INFLUENCE OF HOPE ON THE SAILOR. Lo! to the wintry winds the pilot yields With meteor-standard to the winds unfurled, Now far he sweeps, where scarce a summer smiles, Poor child of danger, nursling of the storm, But HOPE can here her moonlight vigils keep, HOMEWARD BOUND. 277 Rush on his thought; he sweeps before the wind, HOMEWARD BOUND. SHE comes, majestic with her swelling sails, And watched, all anxious, every wind that blows. THE HOME VOYAGE. WE give the white sail As yon rising sun we meet, Though the blast of the north As we ride on our ocean path; We smile at their mingled wrath. Oh! the bosom swells high With a stormy joy, As we meet them with answering pride; As we hang o'er the bow, While our ocean plough Flings the baffled floods aside. We give the white sail To the evening gale, Though the night be dark and drear, The breeze that sings loud In our straining shroud Shall but further our glad career. THE HOME VOYAGE. Though she bow to the wave, Greets his foeman with courtesy due: Shall she rise again, And in calm disdain Unshaken her course pursue. And every crest On the foam's white breast Is gemmed with an ocean star, That gleams with a light, Like torches bright Through vases of clouded spar. Then give the white sail To the rising gale Though our vessel be stout and fleet, Full many a sun His course must run Ere our native land we greet. Though our path be known And yon silent lights above, There are hearts that e'en now Breathe for us the vow And the wordless prayer of love. There are eyes that shall beam 279 There are voices, whose accents sweet Shall yet sweeter be heard For the faltered word, That our coming can scarcely greet. Then give the white sail To the joyous gale, Till her yards the billows kiss; Till rapid she seem As the kindling dream Of Love, and of Hope, and Bliss. "The Winter's Wreath." LAND DESCRIED. MORN had in splendour burst upon the hills Whence sacred Ganges pours his murmuring flood, When from the highest mast the mariners Descried, ahead, the distant table-land. Passed was the fearful storm, and mighty seas This is, assuredly, the region Of Oriental Ind, which thou dost seek; Thou art, here may thy arduous labours end." Gama beyond himself transported felt, |