And why do the roaring ocean, And the night-wind, wild and bleak, As they beat at the heart of the mother, Drive the colour from her cheek? SIR HUMPHREY GILBERT. SOUTHWARD with fleet of ice Wild and fast blew the blast, And the east-wind was his breath. His lordly ships of ice Glistened in the sun; On each side, like pennons wide, His sails of white sea-mist Dripped with silver rain; But where he passed, there were cast Eastward from Campobello Sir Humphrey Gilbert sailed;3 Three days or more seaward he bore, Then, alas! the land-wind failed. Alas! the land-wind failed, And ice-cold grew the night; And never more, on sea or shore, Should Sir Humphrey see the light. He sat upon the deck, The Book was in his hand; "Do not fear! Heaven is as near," He said, "by water as by land!" In the first watch of the night, Out of the sea, mysteriously, The fleet of Death rose all around. The moon and the evening star Were hanging in the shrouds; Every mast, as it passed, Seemed to rake the passing clouds. They grappled with their prize, As of a rock was the shock; Heavily the ground-swell rolled. Southward through day and dark With mist and rain, to the Spanish Main; L Southward, for ever southward, They drift through dark and day ; And like a dream, in the Gulf-stream Sinking, vanish all away. THE LIGHTHOUSE. THE rocky ledge runs far into the sea, Even at this distance I can see the tides, Upheaving, break unheard along its base, A speechless wrath, that rises and subsides In the white lip and tremour of the face. And as the evening darkens, lo! how bright, Not one alone; from each projecting cape Holding its lantern o'er the restless surge. H Like the great giant Christopher it stands Upon the brink of the tempestuous wave, Wading far out among the rocks and sands, The night-o'ertaken mariner to save. And the great ships sail outward and return, They wave their silent welcomes and farewells. They come forth from the darkness, and their sails Gleam for a moment only in the blaze, And eager faces, as the light unveils, Gaze at the tower, and vanish while they gaze. The mariner remembers when a child, On his first voyage, he saw it fade and sink; And when, returning from adventures wild, He saw it rise again o'er ocean's brink. Steadfast, serene, immovable, the same It sees the ocean to its bosom clasp The rocks and sea-sand with the kiss of peace; It sees the wild winds lift it in their grasp, And hold it up, and shake it like a fleece. The startled waves leap over it; the storm Press the great shoulders of the hurricane. The sea-bird wheeling round it, with the din Dashes himself against the glare, and dies. A new Prometheus, chained upon the rock, "Sail on!" it says, "sail on, ye stately ships! THE FIRE OF DRIFT-WOOD. WE sat within the farm-house old, Whose windows, looking o'er the bay, Gave to the sea-breeze, damp and cold, |