A MARINER'S WIFE.

"I'll tell thee: On some shore I stood, Or sea, or inland bay,

Or river broad, I know not,-save

There seemed no boundary to the wave
That chafed and moaned away.

"The shore was lone, the wave was lone,
The horizon lone; no sail

Broke the dim line 'twixt sea and sky,
Till slowly, slowly, one came by,

Half ghost-like, grey and pale.

"It was a very little boat,

Had neither oars nor crew;
But as it shoreward bounded fast,

One form seemed leaning by the mast-
And Norman's face I knew!

"He never looked nor smiled at me,
Though I stood there alone;
His brow was very grave and high,
Lit with a glory from the sky,—

The wild bark bounded on!

271

"I shrieked: 'Oh! take me; take me, love! The night is falling dread.'

'My boat may come no nearer shore; And, hark! how mad the billows roar! Art thou afraid?' he said.

“Afraid! with thee?' 'The wind sweeps fierce The foamy rocks among ;

A perilous voyage waiteth me'—

Then, then, indeed I go with thee,'

I cried, and forward sprung.

"All drenched with brine, all pale with fear,

Ah! no, not fear, 'twas bliss!

I felt the strong arms draw me in;
If after death to heaven I win
"Twill be such joy as this!

"No kiss, no smile, but aye that clasp,-
Tender, and close, and brave,-
While, like a tortured thing, upleapt
The boat, and o'er her deck there swept
Wave thundering after wave.

"I looked not to the stormy deep, Nor to the angry sky;

Whether for life or death we wrought,

My whole world dwindled to one thought,— Where he is, there am I!

“On, on, through leaping waves slow calmed, With salt spray on our hair,

And breezes singing in the sail,
Before a safe and pleasant gale,

The boat went bounding fair.

DEATH IN A MARINER'S FAMILY.

"But whether to a shore we came,

Or seaward sailed away, Alas! to me is all unknown;

O happy dream, too quickly flown!

O cruel, cruel day!"

Pale Helen lived, or died? dull time

O'er all that history rolls;

Sailed they, or sunk they on life s waves?—
I only know earth holds two graves,

And heaven two blessed souls.

From Chambers' Journal.

DEATH IN A MARINER'S FAMILY:

A SIMPLE RECORD OF FACTS.

FROM the far sea-foam, to his peaceful home,
The sailor returned with joy;

With the wife of his youth, in love and truth,
He embraced his girl and boy.

And he would not taste what love had placed
On his clean and frugal board,

Till he bent his knee in thanks to Thee,

His children's Guardian and Lord.

S

273

But the spring-tide flows, and the fair wind blows,
Repaired is each brail and brace;

And his wife, boy, and girl, as the sails unfurl,
He commends to their Saviour's grace.

Oh! his children dear, how he prayed to fear
Their God, for His favour given-

To choose the good part, and seek the new heart—
To make meet for the joys of heaven!

Then away he bore for the sunny shore,
Where the gold of the orange glows;
But his daily prayer, for his home's welfare,
From the altar of incense rose.

And how did the Lord his love accord
To the prayer of filial fear?

Did sunshine and shower each lovely flower
In the blush of its beauty cheer?

The sunshine and shower of the Spirit's power
Did their souls with grace adorn;

While the passing night and the growing light
Spoke the dawning of glory's morn.

But day by day, in swift decay,

Grief saw their beauty fail;—

Thus the crimson glows in the heart of the rose, While the outer leaves wax pale.

DEATH IN A MARINER'S FAMILY.

275

Oh! sweet were the songs of their infant tongues
As they praised their Shepherd-Lord,
Whose rod of power, in death's dark hour,
Would comfort and aid afford.

And they smiled to hear they would soon appear,
In the garments blood-washed white,
With the victor's palm, and the harper's psalm,
And the crowns of the children of light.

Then the bud that last was chilled by the blast
Was the first to fade and fall;

And her brother-flower, from her parting hour,
Seemed hastening to her call.

While we met in the gloom of the funeral room,
To bear earth to earthy rest,

The angels of light bore her brother's sprite
To her's in the homes of the blest.

Thus their lives were sweet, and their Lord thought meet,

That in death they should not sever ;— Thrice happy flowers, in Eden's bowers Your bloom shall be blighted never!

J. LONGMUIR.