The hour is approaching, -a terrible hour!
And Vengeance is bending her bow;
Already the clouds of the hurricane lower,
And the rock-rending whirlwinds blow;
Back rolls the huge Ocean, hell opens below;
The floods return headlong, they sweep
The slave-cultured lands to the deep,

In a moment entombed in the horrible void,
By their Maker himself in his anger destroyed.

Shall this be the fate of the cane-planted isles,
More lovely than clouds in the west,

The blood of our ancestors nourished the tree;
From their tombs, from their ashes, it sprung;
Its boughs with their trophies are hung;
Their spirit dwells in it, and -hark! for it
spoke,

The voice of our fathers ascends from their oak.

"Ye Britons, who dwell where we conquered of old,

Who inherit our battle-field graves;

Though poor were your fathers, - gigantic and bold,

When the sun o'er the ocean descending in smiles, We were not, we could not be, slaves;

Sinks softly and sweetly to rest?

No! Father of mercy! befriend the opprest;
At the voice of thy gospel of peace
May the sorrows of Africa cease ;

And slave and his master devoutly unite

To walk in thy freedom and dwell in thy light!

As homeward my weary-winged Fancy extends
Her star-lighted course through the skies,
High over the mighty Atlantic ascends,
And turns upon Europe her eyes:

Ah me! what new prospects, new horrors arise?
I see the war-tempested flood

All foaming, and panting with blood;
The panic-struck Ocean in agony roars,
Rebounds from the battle, and flies to his shores.

For Britannia is wielding the trident to-day,
Consuming her foes in her ire,

And hurling her thunder with absolute sway
From her wave-ruling chariots of fire.

But firm as our rocks, and as free as our waves,
The spears of the Romans we broke,
We never stooped under their yoke.

In the shipwreck of nations we stood up alone,
The world was great Cæsar's, but Britain our own.
JAMES MONTGOMERY,

ADDRESS TO THE OCEAN.

O THOU vast Ocean! ever-sounding Sea !
Thou symbol of a drear immensity!
Thou thing that windest round the solid world
Like a huge animal, which, downward hurled
From the black clouds, lies weltering and alone,
Lashing and writhing till its strength be gone!
Thy voice is like the thunder, and thy sleep
Is as a giant's slumber, loud and deep.
Thou speakest in the east and in the west
At once, and on thy heavily laden breast
Fleets come and go, and shapes that have no life
Or motion, yet are moved and meet in strife.

She triumphs; the winds and the waters con- The earth has naught of this: no chance or change spire

To spread her invincible name;

The universe rings with her fame ;

Ruffles its surface, and no spirits dare
Give answer to the tempest-wakened air;
But o'er its wastes the weakly tenants range

But the cries of the fatherless mix with her At will, and wound its bosom as they go:

Ever the same, it hath no ebb, no flow :

praise, And the tears of the widow are shed on her bays. But in their stated rounds the seasons come,

O Britain, dear Britain! the land of my birth;
O Isle most enchantingly fair!

And pass like visions to their wonted home ;
And come again, and vanish; the young Spring
Looks ever bright with leaves and blossoming ;

Thou Pearl of the Ocean! thou Gem of the Earth! And Winter always winds his sullen horn,
O my Mother, my Mother, beware,

For wealth is a phantom, and empire a snare!
O, let not thy birthright be sold
For reprobate glory and gold!

Thy distant dominions like wild graftings shoot,
They weigh down thy trunk, they will tear up
thy root,

When the wild Autumn, with a look forlorn,
Dies in his stormy manhood; and the skies
Weep, and flowers sicken, when the summer flies.
O, wonderful thou art, great element,
And fearful in thy spleeny humors bent,
And lovely in repose! thy summer form
Is beautiful, and when thy silver waves
Make music in earth's dark and winding caves,

The root of thine oak, O my country! that I love to wander on thy pebbled beach,
stands

Rock-planted and flourishing free ;

Marking the sunlight at the evening hour, And hearken to the thoughts thy waters teach, Its branches are stretched o'er the uttermost lands, Eternity - Eternity-and Power. And its shadow eclipses the sea.

BARRY CORNWALL