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The pleasant books, that silently among

Our household treasures take familiar places, And are to us as if a living tongue

Spake from the printed leaves or pictured faces!

Perhaps on earth I never shall behold,

With eye of sense, your outward form and semblance; Therefore to me ye never will grow old,

But live for ever young in my remembrance.

Never grow old, nor change, nor pass away!
Your gentle voices will flow on for ever,
When life grows bare and tarnished with decay,
As through a leafless landscape flows a river.

Not chance of birth or place has made us friends,
Being oftentimes of different tongues and nations,
But the endeavour for the selfsame ends,

With the same hopes and fears and aspirations.

Therefore I hope to join your seaside walk,
Saddened, and mostly silent, with emotion;
Not interrupting with intrusive talk

The grand, majestic symphonies of ocean.

Therefore I hope, as no unwelcome guest,

At your warm fireside, when the lamps are lighted,

To have my place reserved among the rest,

Nor stand as one unsought and uninvited!

BY THE SEASIDE.

THE BUILDING OF THE SHIP.

"BUILD me straight, O worthy Master! Staunch and strong, a goodly vessel, That shall laugh at all disaster,

And with wave and whirlwind wrestle!"

The merchant's word

Delighted the Master heard;

For his heart was in his work, and the heart

[blocks in formation]

A quiet smile played round his lips,

As the eddies and dimples of the tide
Play round the bows of ships,

That steadily at anchor ride.

And with a voice that was full of glee,
He answered, "Ere long we will launch
A vessel as goodly, and strong, and staunch,
As ever weathered a wintry sea!"

And first with nicest skill, and art,
Perfect and finished in every part,

A little model the Master wrought,
Which should be to the larger plan
What the child is to the man,
Its counterpart in miniature;

That with a hand more swift and sure
The greater labour might be brought
To answer to his inward thought.
And as he laboured, his mind ran o'er
The various ships that were built of
yore,
And above them all, and strangest of all
Towered the Great Harry, crank and tall,
Whose picture was hanging on the wall,
With bows and stern raised high in air,
And balconies hanging here and there,
And signal lanterns and flags afloat,

And eight round towers, like those that frown
From some old castle, looking down

Upon the drawbridge and the moat.

And he said with a smile, "Our ship, I wis,

Shall be of another form than this!"

It was of another form, indeed;

Built for freight, and yet for speed,

A beautiful and gallant craft;

Broad in the beam, that the stress of the blast,

Pressing down upon sail and mast,

Might not the sharp bows overwhelm ;
Broad in the beam, but sloping aft

With graceful curve and slow degrees,

That she might be docile to the helm,
And that the currents of parted seas,
Closing behind, with mighty force,
Might aid and not impede her course.

In the ship-yard stood the Master,
With the model of the vessel,

That should laugh at all disaster,

And with wave and whirlwind wrestle!

Covering many a rood of ground,

Lay the timber piled around;

Timber of chestnut, and elm, and oak,
And scattered here and there, with these,

The knarred and crooked cedar knees;
Brought from regions far away,
From Pascagoula's sunny bay,

And the banks of the roaring Roanoke!
Ah! what a wondrous thing it is

To note how many wheels of toil

One thought, one word, can set in motion ! There's not a ship that sails the ocean,

But every climate, every soil,

Must bring its tribute, great or small,
And help to build the wooden wall!

The sun was rising o'er the sea,
And long the level shadows lay,
As if they, too, the beams would be
Of some great, airy argosy,

Framed and launched in a single day.
That silent architect, the sun,

Had hewn and laid them every one,
Ere the work of man was yet begun.
Beside the Master, when he spoke,
A youth, against an anchor leaning,
Listened, to catch his slightest meaning.
Only the long waves, as they broke
In ripples on the pebbly beach,
Interrupted the old man's speech.

Beautiful they were, in sooth,
The old man and the fiery youth!
The old man, in whose busy brain
Many a ship that sailed the main
Was modelled o'er and o'er again ;—
The fiery youth, who was to be

The heir of his dexterity,

The heir of his house, and his daughter's

hand,

When he had built and launched from land

What the elder head had planned.

“Thus,” said he, "will we build this ship! Lay square the blocks upon the slip,

And follow well this plan of mine.
Choose the timbers with greatest care ;

all that is unsound beware;

For only what is sound and strong
To this vessel shall belong.

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