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And fast through the midnight dark and drear,

Through the whistling sleet and snow, Like a sheeted ghost, the vessel swept

Towards the reef 8 of Norman's Woe.

And ever the fitful gusts between,

A sound came from the land ;
It was the sound of the trampling surf

On the rocks and the hard sea-sand.

The breakers were right beneath her bows,

She drifted a dreary wreck,
And a whooping billow swept the crew

Like icicles from her deck.

She struck where the white and fleecy waves

Looked soft as carded wool,
But the cruel rocks they gored her side,

Like the horns of an angry bull.

Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice,

With the masts, went by the board ; Like a vessel of glass she stove and sank,

Ho! ho! the breakers roared !

At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach

A fisherman stood aghast,
To see the form of a maiden fair

Lashed close to a drifting mast.

The salt sea was frozen on her breast,

The salt tears in her eyes ;
And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-weed,

On the billows fall and rise,

Such was the wreck of the Hesperus,

In the midnight and the snow ;
Christ save us all from a death like this,

On the reef of Norman's Woe!

Longfellow.

D

TO BLOSSOMS.

1 Schooner, a vessel with two masts.
2 Skipper, captain.
3 Veering flaw, varying gusts of wind.
4 Spanish Main means here that part of

the Atlantic Ocean which washes
the northern shores of South
America between the Windward
Islands and the Isthmus of Darien.
It properly means the main land
of that continent; but came to be
applied to the adjoining sea.

5 The moon had a golden ring, a lumin

ous halo round the moon, occasioned by the density of vapoury

particles in the atmosphere. 6 Fog-bell, a warning bell rung in foggy

weather to prevent collisions. 7 The Lake of Galilee. See Matt. viii.

23-27 8 Reef, rocks partially covered with

water.

TO BLOSSOMS.

Fair pledges of a fruitful tree,

Why do ye fall so fast ?

Your date is not so past, But you may stay yet here

awhile, To blush and gently smile; And

go

at last. What! were ye born to be

An hour or half's delight;

And so to bid good-night? 'Twas pity Nature brought

ye forth, Merely to shew your

worth,

And lose you quite. But you are lovely leaves,

where we May read how

things have Their end, though ne'er

so brave : And after they have shewn

their pride, Like you, awhile; they

glide

[graphic]

soon

Into the grave.

Herrick.

[graphic]

BUTTERCUPS AND DAISIES. I never see a young hand hold The starry bunch of white and gold, But something warm and fresh will start About the region of my heart. My smile expires into a sigh; I feel a struggling in the eye, 'Twixt hạmid drop and sparkling ray, Till rolling tears have won their way; For soul and brain will travel back

Through Memory's chequered mazes, To days when I but trod Life's track

For Buttercups and Daisies.'
Tell me, ye men of wisdom rare,
Of sober speech and silver hair ;
Who carry counsel, wise and sage,
With all the gravity of age :
Oh, say, do ye not like to hear
The accents ringing in your ear,

52

BUTTERCUPS AND DAISIES.

When sportive urchins laugh and shout,
Tossing those precious flowers about,
Springing with bold and gleesome bound,

Proclaiming joy that crazes ;
And chorusing the magic sound

Of ‘Buttercups and Daisies ?'
Are there, I ask, beneath the sky
Blossoms that knit so strong a tie
With childhood's love? Can any please
Or light the infant eye like these ?
No, no; there's not a bud on earth,
Of richest tint, or warmest birth,
Can ever fling such zeal and zest
Into the tiny hand and breast.
Who does not recollect the hours

When burning words and praises
Were lavished on those shining flowers,

• Buttercups and Daisies ?'

There seems a bright and fairy spell
About their very names to dwell ;
And though old Time has marked my brow
With care and thought, I love them now.
Smile, if ye will, but some heart-strings
Are closest linked to simplest things ;
And these wild-flowers will hold mine fast,
Till love, and life, and all be past :
And then the only wish I have

Is, that the one who raises
The turf-sod o'er me plant my grave
With 'Buttercups and Daisies.'

Eliza Cook.

THE GOLDEN MEAN.
Receive, dear friend, the truths I teach,
So shalt thou live beyond the reach

Of adverse Fortune's power :
Not always tempt the distant deep,
Nor always timorously.creep

Along the treacherous shore. He that holds fast the golden mean, And lives contentedly between

The little and the great, Feels not the wants that pinch the poor, Nor plagues that haunt the rich man's door,

Imbittering all his state. The tallest pines feel most the power Of wintry blast; the loftiest tower

Comes heaviest to the ground ; The bolts that spare the mountain's side, His cloud-capt eminence divide,

And spread the ruin round.

The well-informed philosopher
Rejoices with a wholesome fear,

And hopes in spite of pain ;
If winter bellow from the north,
Soon the sweet spring comes dancing forth,

And Nature laughs again.

What if thy heaven be overcast ?
The dark appearance will not last ;

Expect a brighter sky:
The god that strings the silver bowl
Awakes sometimes the muses too,

And lays his arrows by.
If hindrances obstruct thy way,
Thy magnanimity display,

And let thy strength be seen;

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