SAILED from the Downs in the "Nancy,"
My jib how she smacked through the breeze!
She's a vessel as tight to my fancy
As ever sailed on the salt seas.
So adieu to the white cliffs of Britain,
Our girls and our dear native shore !

For if some hard rock we should split on,
We shall never see them any more.
But sailors were born for all weathers,
Great guns let it blow, high or low,
Our duty keeps us to our tethers,

And where the gale drives we must go.

When we entered the Straits of Gibraltar
I verily thought she'd have sunk,
For the wind began so for to alter,

She yawed just as tho' she was drunk,
The squall tore the mainsail to shivers,

Helm a-weather, the hoarse boatswain cries; Brace the foresail athwart, see she quivers, As through the rough tempest she flies. But sailors were born for all weathers, Great guns let it blow, high or low, Our duty keeps us to our tethers,

And where the gale drives we must go.

The storm came on thicker and faster,
As black just as pitch was the sky,
When truly a doleful disaster

Befel three poor sailors and I.

Ben Buntline, Sam Shroud and Dick Handsail,
By a blast that came furious and hard,
Just while we were furling the mainsail,
Were every soul swept from the yard.
But sailors were born for all weathers,
Great guns let it blow, high or low,
Our duty keeps us to our tethers,

And where the gale drives we must go.

a

Y, build her long and narrow and deep!

She shall cut the sea with a scimetar's sweep,
Whatever betides and whoever may weep!

Bring out the red wine! Lift the glass to the lip!
With a roar of great guns, and a Hip! hip!
Hurrah!" for the craft, we will christen the ship!

Dash a draught on the bow! Ah, the spar of white wood

Drips into the sea till it colors the flood

With the very own double and symbol of blood!

Now out with the name of the monarch gigantic
That shall queen it so grandly when surges are frantic!
Child of fire and of iron, God save the “Atlantic!"

All aboard, my fine fellows! "Up anchor!" the word

Ah, never again shall that order be heard,

For two worlds will be mourning you gone to a third!

To the trumpet of March wild gallops the sea;
The white-crested troopers are under the lee-
Old World and New World and Soul-World are three.
Great garments of rain wrap the desolate night;
Sweet heaven disastered is lost to the sight;
"Atlantic," crash on in the pride of thy might!
With thy look-out's dim cry, "One o'clock, and all
right!"

Ho, down with the hatches! The seas come aboard!
All together they come, like a passionate word,
Like pirates that put every soul to the sword!
Their black flag all abroad makes murky the air,
But the ship parts the night as a maiden her hair-
Through and through the thick gloom, from land here
to land there,

Like the shuttle that weaves for a mourner to wear!

Good-night, proud "Atlantic!" One tick of the clock, And a staggering craunch and a shivering shock'Tis the flint and the steel! 'Tis the ship and the rock!

Deathless sparks are struck out from the bosoms of girls,

From the stout heart of manhood, in scintillant whirls,
Like the stars of the flag when the banner unfurls!

What hundreds went up unto God in their sleep!
What hundreds in agony baffled the deep-
Nobody to pray and nobody to weep!

Alas for the flag of the single "White Star,"
With light pale and cold as the woman's hands are
Who, froze in the shrouds, flashed her jewels afar,
Lost her hold on the world, and then clutched at a spar!
God of mercy and grace! How the bubbles come up
With souls from the revel, who stayed not to sup;
Death drank the last toast, and then shattered the cup!
BENJAMIN F. TAYLOR.

THE SHIPWRECKED SAILORS.

'HE floods are raging, and the gales blow high,
Low as a dungeon-roof impends the sky;
Prisoners of hope, between the clouds and
waves,

Six fearless sailors man yon boat that braves
Peril redoubling upon peril past;

-From childhood nurslings of the wayward blast,
Aloft as o'er a buoyant arch they go,

Whose keystone breaks-as deep they plunge below;
Unyielding, though the strength of man be vain;
Struggling, though borne like-surf along the main;
In front, a battlement of rocks; in rear,
Billow on billow bounding; near, more near,
They verge to ruin ;-life and death depend
On the next impulse-shrieks and prayers ascend.
JAMES MONTGOMERY.

D

THE BEACON LIGHT.

ARKNESS was deepening o'er the seas,
And still the hulk drove on;
No sail to answer to the breeze,—
Her masts and cordage gone:
Gloomy and drear her course of fear,-
Each looked but for a grave,—
When, full in sight, the beacon-light
Came streaming o'er the wave.

And gayly of the tale they told,

When they were safe on shore;

How hearts had sunk, and hopes grown cold, Amid the billows' roar;

When not a star had shone from far,

By its pale beam to save,

Then, full in sight, the beacon-light

Came streaming o'er the wave.

Then wildly rose the gladdening shout
Of all that hardy crew;

Boldly they put the helm about,

And through the surf they flew.
Storm was forgot, toil heeded not,
And loud the cheer they gave,
As, full in sight, the beacon-light
Came streaming o'er the wave.

Thus, in the night of nature's gloom,
When sorrow bows the heart,
When cheering hopes no more illume,
And comforts all depart;

Then from afar shines Bethlehem's star,
With cheering light to save;
And, full in sight, its beacon-light
Comes streaming o'er the grave.

AT SEA.

Julia Pardoɛ.

'HE night is made for cooling shade,
For silence, and for sleep;
And when I was a child, I laid
My hands upon my breast, and prayed,
And sank to slumbers deep:
Childlike as then I lie to-night,
And watch my lonely cabin-light.

Each movement of the swaying lamp
Shows how the vessel reels:
As o'er her deck the billows tramp,
And all her timbers strain and cramp
With every shock she feels.

It starts and shudders, while it burns,
And in its hinged socket turns.

Now swinging slow and slanting low,
It almost level lies;

And yet I know, while to and fro
I watch the seaming pendule go
With restless fall and rise,
The steady shaft is still upright,
Poising its little globe of light.

O hand of God! O lamp of peace!
O promise of my soul !

Though weak, and tossed, and ill at ease,
Amid the roar of smiting seas,

The ship's convulsive roll,

I own with love and tender awe
Yon perfect type of faith and law.

A heavenly trust my spirit calms,
My soul is filled with light:
The Ocean sings his solemn psalms,
The wild winds chant: I cross my palms,
Happy as if to-night

Under the cottage roof again

I heard the soothing summer rain.

JOHN TOWNSEND TROWBRIDGE.

RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER.

An Ancient Mariner meeteth three gallants bidden

to a wed

ding feast,

and detain

ath one.

The Wedding-Guest is spell. bound by the eye of the old sea

PART I.

T is an Ancient Mariner,

And he stoppeth one of three.

"By thy long gray beard and glittering eye,

Now wherefore stoppest thou me?

The bridegroom's doors are opened wide.
And I am next of kin ;

The guests are met, the feast is set-
Mayst hear the merry din."

He holds him with a skinny hand:
"There was a ship," quoth he.

"Hold off! unhand me, graybeard loon!"
Eftsoons his hand dropt he.

He holds him with his glittering eye-
The Wedding-Guest stood still;

He listens like a three years' child;

faring man. The Mariner hath his will.

and constrained to hea his

tal

The Marlner tells

how the ship sailed southward

with a good wind and

fair weathe till it

The Wedding-Guest sat on a stoneHe cannot choose but hear;

And thus spake on that ancient man, The bright-eyed Mariner :

Merrily did we drop

Below the kirk, below the hill,

Below the light-house top.

The sun came up upon the left,

Out of the sea came he;

And he shone bright, and on the right
Went down into the sea;

reached the Higher and higher every day,

line.

And every day, for food or play Came to the mariners' hollo!

In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud,

It perched for vespers nine;

Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke

white,

Glimmered the white moonshine."

"God save thee, Ancient Mariner !

And the proveth a bird of good omen, and followeth the ship as it returned northward through fog and floating ice.

The Ancient Mariner inhospitably killeth the

From the fiends, that plague thee thus !— Why look'st thou so?"-"With my cross- pious bird of bow

I shot the Albatross.

PART II.

THE SUN now rose upon the right:
Out of the sea came he,

Still hid in mist, and on the left
Went down into the sea.

And the good south wind still blew behind,

But no sweet bird did follow,
Nor any day, for food or play,
Came to the mariners' hollo!

And I had done an hellish thing,
And it would work 'em woe:
For all averred I had killed the bird
That made the breeze to blow.
Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay,
That made the breeze to blow!

good omen.

His shipmates cry out against the Ancien Mariner, for killing the bird of good luck.

But when the fog cleared off, they justify

the same, and thus make themselves ac complices in the crime.

The fair

breeze continues; the ship enters the Pacific Ocean, and sails northward, even till it reach

s the line.

The ship

hath been suddenly

becalmed;

and the Albatross

begins to be avenged.

A Spirit had fol

lowed them; one of

The furrow followed free;

We were the first that ever burst

Into that silent sea.

It plunged and tacked and veered.

With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, At its near.

We could nor laugh nor wail;

down

'Twas sad as sad could be;

And we did speak only to break

The silence of the sea.

All in a hot and copper sky

The bloody sun, at noon,

Right up above the mast did stand,

No bigger than the moon.

Day after day, day after day,

We stuck-nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.

Water, water everywhere,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water everywhere,
Nor any drop to drink.

The very deep did rot; O Christ!
That ever this should be!

Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea!

About, about, in reel and rout,
The death-fires danced at night;
The water, like a witch's oils,
Burnt green, and blue, and white.

And some in dreams assured were
Of the Spirit that plagued us so ;
ble inhabit. Nine fathom deep he had followed us
From the land of mist and snow.

the invisi

ants of this planet, neither departed souls nor angels. They are

And every tongue, through utter drought, very numer. Was withered at the root;

ous, and

there is no climate or element

without one

or more.

The shipmates, in their sore distress,

would fain throw the

whole guilt on the Ancient Mariner: in sign whereof

they hang the dead sea-bird

round his

neck.

The Ancient

holdeth a

We could not speak, no more than if
We had been choked with soot.

Ah! well-a-day! what evil looks
Had I from old and young!
Instead of the cross the Albatross

About my neck was hung.

PART III.

There passed a weary time. Each throat
Was parched, and glazed each eye-
A weary time! a weary time!

Mariner be. How glazed each weary eye!—
When, looking westward, I beheld
A something in the sky.

sign in the

element afar

I bit my arm, I sucked the blood,

And cried, 'A sail! a sail !'

With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, Agape they heard me call;

Gramercy! they for joy did grin,

And all at once their breath drew in,

As they were drinking all.

'See! see!' I cried, 'she tacks no more!'
Hither to work us weal-
Without a breeze, without a tide,
She steadies with upright keel !'

The western wave was all a-flame ·
The day was well nigh done;
Almost upon the western wave
Rested the broad bright sun,

When that strange shape drove suddenly
Betwixt us and the sun.

And straight the sun was flecked with bars, (Heaven's Mother send us grace!)

As if through a dungeon-grate he peered
With broad and burning face.

Alas! thought I-and my heart beat loud—
How fast she nears and nears!

Are those her sails that glance in the sun,
Like restless gossamers?

Are those her ribs through which the sun
Did peer, as through a grate?
And is that woman all her crew?
Is that a death? and are there two?
Is Death that woman's mate?

Her lips were red, her looks were free,
Her locks were yellow as gold;
Her skin was as white as leprosy :
The night-mare, Life-in-Death, was she,
Who thicks man's blood with cold.

The naked hulk alongside came,
And the twain were casting dice:
'The game is done. I've won! I've won!'
Quoth she, and whistles thrice.

The sun's rim dips; the stars rush out;
At one stride comes the dark;
With far-heard whisper, o'er the sea,
Off shot the spectre-bark.

er approach it seemeth him to be a ship; and at

a dear ransom he freeth his speech from the bonds of thirst.

A flash of joy.

And horror follows. For can it be a ship that

comes onward without wind or tide?

It seemeth him but the skeleton of a ship.

Death and Life-inDeath have

diced for the

ship's crew, and she (the latter) winneth the Ancient Mari

ner.

No twilight within the courts of the

sun.

We listened and looked sideways up!
Fear at my heart, as at a cup,

My life-blood seemed to sip!

The stars were dim, and thick the night,

The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white;

From the sails the dew did drip

Till clombe above the eastern bar,

The horned moon, with one bright star
Within the nether tip.

One after one, by the star-dogged moon,
Too quick for groan or sigh,

Each turned his face with a ghastly pang,
And cursed me with his eye.
Four times fifty living men
(And I heard nor sigh nor groan,)
With heavy thump, a lifeless lump,
They dropped down one by one.
The souls did from their bodies fly-
They fled to bliss or woe!

And every soul, it passed me by,
Like the whizz of my cross-bow!"

The cold sweat melted from their limbs,
Nor rot nor reek did they :

The look with which they looked on me
Had never passed away.

An orphan's curse would drag to hell
A spirit from on high;

But oh more horrible than that

Is a curse in a dead man's eye!
Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse,
And yet I conld not die.

The moving moon went up the sky,
And nowhere did abide :
Softly she was going up,
And a star or two beside-

Her beams bemocked the sultry main,
Like April hoar-frost spread;

But where the ship's huge shadow lay
The charmed water burnt alway,
A still and awful red.

Beyond the shadow of the ship

I watched the water-snakes;

They moved in tracks of shining white;
And when they reared, the elfish light
Fell off in hoary flakes.

Within the shadow of the ship

I watched their rich attire

Blue, glossy green, and velvet black,
They coiled and swam; and every track
Was a flash of golden fire.

O happy living things! no tongue
Their beauty might declare;

A spring of love gushed from my heart,
And I blessed them unaware-
Sure my kind saint took pity on me,
And I blessed them unaware.

The selfsame moment I could pray ;
And from my neck so free
The Albatross fell off, and sank
Like lead into the sea.

PART V.

O SLEEP! it is a gentle thing,
Beloved from pole to pole !

To Mary Queen the praise be given!
She sent the gentle sleep from heaven
That slid into my soul.

The silly buckets on the deck,
That had so long remained,

I dreamt that they were filled with dew;
And when I awoke, it rained.

My lips were wet, my throat was cold
My garments all were dank;
Sure I had drunken in my dreams
And still my body drank.