It rested on the scene, More still and motionless than lie Beside it stood a hoary seer, And through my heart a whisper ran, "God, or his angel shrouded here Holds converse with this holy man." No glory on it seemed to dwell; Who listens to momentous things, What some great herald brings. But as I gazed, a little boat, Swift, without rudder, oars, or sail, Down through the ambient air afloat, Bore onward one who seemed to hail The patriarch, and he turned his head; He turned and saw a smiling boy, Smiling in beauty and in youth, With eyes in which eternal truth Lay with eternal joy. He touched that old man's snowy head, And boat, youth, cloud, and patriarch fled! A multitude of dreams have passed Since this, and perished as they came; But in my mind imprinted fast This lives, and still remains the same. The beauty of that gliding car; The mystery of the cloud and sage; Those plains in arid drought so stern; That solemn hush, that seemed etern;In memory's living page, Still stand in light, more real far Than thousands of our day-dreams are! First-mate was I of the Nancy, A tight ship and a sound; Full thirteen knots an hour. The sea was as a glassy lake, By a steady gale impressed; But just what liked him best. And dallying thus one afternoon, I stood upon the deck; Whether 't was rock, or fish, or cloud, So I called unto a seaman, We called a third unto us then, That he the sight might see; Then came a fourth, a fifth, a sixth, But no two could agree. "Nay, 't is a little boat," I said, "And it roweth with an oar!" But none of them could see it so, All differing as before. "It cometh on; I see it plain; It is a boat!" I cried, And sure enough, a boat it was, Within it sate a little child, The fairest e'er was seen; No covering wore he on his head, The rudest man on board our ship There sat he in his pretty boat, Like an angel from the sky, The little oar slid from his hand; And as we tokened him to come, His little boat he neared, And smiled at all our friendly words, Nor seemed the least afeared. "Come hither a-board!" the captain said; And without fear of ill, He sprang into the lordly ship, With frank and free good will. And strange to tell, his pleasant speech And yet such English, sweet and pure, There were three, he said, who dwelt with him His parents and his sister young, A family of love. His father, he said, had made his boat From out a large sea-shell; "And what a wondrous tale," said he, "I shall this evening tell!" His robes, he said, his mother had wove And he laughed at the clothes the seamen wore, When the little child had stayed with us, He smiled farewell to all on board, And said that he would go. "For I must be back again," said he, For me they all will wait; I must be back again," quoth he, "Or ever the day be late!" "He shall not go!" the captain said; "Haul up his boat and oar! The pretty boy shall sail with us To the famous English shore! "Thou shalt with me, my pretty boy; I'll find thee a new mother; I've children three at home, and thou To them shalt be a brother!" "Nay, nay, I shall go back!" he said; "For thee I do not know; I must be back again," he cried, "Before the sun be low!" Then sprang unto the vessel's side, And made as he would go. The captain was a strong, stern man; "Haul up yon cockle-shell! And you, my boy, content you, In this good ship to dwell!" As one who gladly would believe So heard the child, with half a smile, But when he saw them seize his boat, The smile was gone, and o'er his face And then a passion seized his frame, He stamped his little feet in rage, "Twas a wicked deed as e'er was done I longed to set him free; And the impotence of his great grief Was a grievous sight to me. At length, when rage had spent itself, "Oh take me back again!" he cried, And at the word "farewell" he wept, As if his heart would break; The very memory of his tears Sore sad my heart doth make. The captain's self was almost moved One man whose eyes were dry. When the captain saw the seamen's grief, And shut his heart against the child, Down from the deck he took him PART II. IT was a wicked deed, and Heaven As you will see. There something was, Whereon the captain stole the child, On board that was not right. From out the cabin evermore, Where they were all alone, And now and then cries sad enough Like one who doeth wrong, Against a conscience strong. With a good will or a free; I found him lying on his bed, Oppressed with fever-pain; "I have done wickedly," said he, "And Christ doth me condemn; I have children three on land," groaned he, "And woe will come to them! "I have been weighed, and wanting found; I've done an evil deed! I pray thee, mate, 'tis not too late, Take back this child with speed! "I have children three," again groaned he,. "And I pray that this be done! Thou wilt have order of the ship When I am dead and gone: — I pray thee do the thing I ask, That mercy may be won!" I vowed to do the thing he asked, And true enough, that very day I took the little child away, I feared at first that all his grief At length he woke from that dead woe, I clasped him close unto my breast, At length I did bethink me Of Jesus Christ; and spake "For me and thee, dear child," I said, Without he give the cure!" Like as the heavy clouds of night Oh happy hours of converse sweet;- That knowledge sweet and new. And ever by my side he kept, Loving, and meek, and still: But never more to him returned His bold and wayward will:He had been tried and purified From every taint of ill. PART III. THE eve whereon the captain died We'll find the island out." So back unto the place we came, And on the third, at break of day, And then the low-lands rose to view, Down on his knees the child he fell, When the mountains came in view, And tears ran streaming from his eyes,For his own isle he knew. "Oh give to me my boat!" he cried, And give to me mine oar!" Just then we saw another boat Pushed from the island-shore. A carved boat of sandal-wood, Its sail a silken mat, All richly wrought in rainbow-dyes, Down from the ship into the sea The little boy he sprung; Like some sea-creature beautiful Next moment in his mother's arms The happiest and the sweetest sight Was the coming back of this poor child -Now wot ye of his parentage? "T would make a pleasant history "T is not for my weak speech to tell Whate'er the island held they gave; But I might not stay; and that same day And, with the wind that changed then Went from the harbour out. -T is joy to do an upright deed; "T is joy to do a kind; And the best reward of virtuous deeds But a blessing great went with the ship, And how the child became a man, As I never trod the island more, EASTER HYMNS. HYMN I. THE TWO MARYS. Oh dark day of sorrow, When the master no longer A refuge should prove; Oh dark day of sorrow, For we surely believed not But the trust of our spirits At even they laid him There, there will we seek him: Oh strangest of sorrow! Weep not, nor tremble; And be not dismayed; The Lord hath arisen! See where he was laid! The grave-clothes, behold them; The spices; the bier; The napkin that bound him;But he is not here! Death could not hold him; The grave is a prison That keeps not the living; The Christ has arisen! HYMN III. THE LORD JESUS. Why are ye troubled? What the prophets have written "Tis I, be not doubtful! Why ponder ye so? The willing hath suffered; The chosen been slain; The end is accomplished! Behold me again! Death has been conquered· The grave has been rivenFor sin a remission Hath freely been given! Fearless in spirit, Yet meek as the dove, Go preach to the nations This gospel of love. For the night of the mighty I go to the father, There life never-ending; But the hour is accomplished! HYMN IV. THE ELEVEN. THE Lord is ascending!- See, angels, archangels The Master is taken; The Master is taken; But the joy of his presence Our hearts burned within us To hear but the word Which he spake, ere our spirits The Lord hath ascended! The Lord hath ascended; CORN-FIELDS. In the young merry time of spring, But when the merry spring is past, But then as day and night succeed, The red-rose groweth wan, When on the breath of autumn breeze, |