Each tall and tapering mast Holding it firm and fast! Long ago, In the deer-haunted forests of Maine, Lay the snow, They fell,-those lordly pines! Those grand, majestic pines! The jaded steers Panting beneath the goad, Dragged down the weary, winding road And, naked and bare, To feel the stress and the strain Of the wind and the reeling main, Whose roar Would remind them for evermore Of their native forests they should not see again. And everywhere The slender, graceful spars Poise aloft in the air, And at the mast-head, White, blue, and red, A flag unrolls the stripes and stars. Ah! when the wanderer, lonely, friendless, In foreign harbours shall behold That flag unrolled, "Twill be as a friendly hand Stretched out from his native land, Filling his heart with memories sweet and endless! All is finished! and at length Has come the bridal day Of beauty and of strength. To-day the vessel shall be launched! With fleecy clouds the sky is blanched, And o'er the bay, Slowly, in his splendours dight, The great sun rises to behold the sight. rule; but the reader will see by the following extract of a letter from a friend in Portland, Maine, that it is neither a blunder nor a poetic licence. "In this State, and also, I am told, in New York, ships are sometimes rigged upon the stocks, in order to save time, or to make a show. There was a line large ship launched last summer at Ellsworth, fully rigged and sparred. Some years ago a ship was launched here, with her rigging, spars, sails, and cargo aboard. She sailed the next day, and-was never heard of again! I hope this will not be the fate of your poem!" The ocean old, Centuries old, Strong as youth, and as uncontrolled, Up and down the sands of gold. With ceaseless flow, His beard of snow Heaves with the heaving of his breast. He waits impatient for his bride. With her foot upon the sands, Decked with flags and streamers gay, In honour of her marriage-day, Her snow-white signals fluttering, blending, Round her like a veil descending, Ready to be The bride of the gray, old sea. On the deck another bride Is standing by her lover's side. The prayer is said, The service read, The joyous bridegroom bows his head; Down his own the tears begin to run. The shepherd of that wandering flcck, Of the sailor's heart, All its pleasures and its griefs, And lift and drift, with terrible force, The will from its moorings and its course. "Like unto ships far off at sea, And climb the crystal wall of the skies, As if we could slide from its outer brink. It is not the sea that sinks and shelves, That rock and rise With endless and uneasy motion, Now sinking into the depths of ocean. To the toil and the task we have to do, Then the Master, With a gesture of command, Waved his hand; And at the word, Loud and sudden there was heard, The sound of hammers, blow on blow, She starts, she moves,-she seems to feel And, spurning with her foot the ground, She leaps into the ocean's arms! And lo! from the assembled crowd How beautiful she is! How fair Her form within many a soft caress Through wind and wave, right onward steer! Are not the signs of doubt or fear. Sail forth into the sea of life, Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, Are all with thee,- -are all with thee! THE EVENING STAR. JUST above yon sandy bar, As the day grows fainter and dimmer, Lonely and lovely, a single star Lights the air with a dusky glimmer. Into the ocean faint and far Falls the trail of its golden splendour, And the gleam of that single star Is ever refulgent, soft, and tender. Chrysaor rising out of the sea, Showed thus glorious and thus emulous, Leaving the arms of Callirrhoe, For ever tender, soft, and tremulous. Thus o'er the ocean faint and far Trailed the gleam of his falchion brightly: Is it a God, or is it a star That, entranced, I gaze on nightly! THE SECRET OF THE SEA. Ан! what pleasant visions haunt me All the old romantic legends, All my dreams come back to me. Sails of silk and ropes of sendal, And the answer from the shore! Most of all, the Spanish ballad Like the long waves on a sea-beach, Telling how the Count Arnaldos, How he heard the ancient helmsman Till his soul was full of longing, And he cried, with impulse strong,"Helmsman! for the love of heaven, Teach me, too, that wondrous song!" "Wouldst thou,"-'--so the helmsman answered "Learn the secret of the sea? Only those who brave its dangers Comprehend its mystery!" |