"And, behold, as I approached it—with a rapt and Before 'The Grace of Sunderland' was wrecked. dazzled stareHe's never been his own man since that hour; Thinking that I saw old comrades just ascending the For there were thirty men aboard of her, great stairAnigh as close as you are now to me, Suddenly the solemn challenge broke of-Halt!' and And ne'er a one was saved. 'Who goes there!' 'I'm a friend,' I said, 'if you are!' 'Then advance, sir, to the stair!' "I advanced! That sentry, Doctor, was Elijah Ballantyne! First of all to fall on Monday, after we had formed the line! 'Welcome, my old Sergeant, welcome! Welcome by that countersign!' And he pointed to the scar there, under this old cloak of mine. "They're lying now, With two small children, in a row: the church "She bumped upon the reef; "As he grasped my hand I shuddered, thinking only And God Almighty's guns were going off, But he smiled and pointed upward, with a bright and "Then a sudden shame came o'er me at his uniform of light: "When she took the ground, 'That's the way, sir, to Headquarters.' 'What Head- She went to pieces like a lock of hay quarters?' 'Of the Brave!' Tossed from a pitchfork. Ere it came to that, 'But the great tower?' 'That was builded of the great The captain reeled on deck with two small things, deeds of the brave!' One in each arm-his little lad and lass. Their hair was long and blew before his face, Or else we thought he had been saved; he fell, But held them fast. The crew, poor luckless souls! The breakers licked them off, and some were crushed, Some swallowed in the yeast, some flung up dead, The dear breath beaten out of them: not one Jumped from the wreck upon the reef to catch The hands that strained to reach, but tumbled back With eyes wide open. But the captain lay At my own so old and battered, and at his so new and bright; 'Ah!' said he, 'you have forgotten the new uniform to-night! 'Hurry back—you must be here at just twelve o'clock to-night!' "And the next thing I remember, you were sitting And clung-the only man alive. They prayed— there and I 'For God's sake, captain, throw the children here!' Doctor-did you hear a footstep? Hark!-God bless Throw them!' our parson cried; and then she struck you all! Good bye! And then he threw one, a pretty two years' child, Doctor, please to give my musket and my knapsack, But the gale dashed him on the slippery verge, when I die, To my son-my son that's coming-he won't get here till I die! And down he went. They say they heard him cry. "Then he rose up and took the other one, "Tell him his old father blessed him-as he never did And all our men reached out their hungry arms, before And to carry that old musket" is at the door! "Till the Union " -See! it opens ! father! speak once more!" And cried out, 'Throw her, throw her!' and he did. "Bless you"-gasped the old gray sergeant. And he Just as a woman might the lump of salt lay and said no more! FORCEYTHE WILLSON. That 'twixt her hands into the kneading-pan WRECK OF "THE GRACE OF SUTHERLAND." "We hauled our men in : two of them were dead 66 'E'S a rare man, Our parson; half a head above us all." "That's a great gift, and notable,” said I. "Ay, Sir; and when he was a younger man He went out in the life-boat very oft, The sea had beaten them, their heads hung down⚫ JEAN INGELOW. GEORGE NIDIVER. EN have done brave deeds, And bards have sung them well: I of good George Nidiver Now a tale will tell. In Californian mountains Keen his eye and sure his aim A little Indian boy Followed him everywhere, And when the bird or deer To help with right good-will. The boy turned round with screams, The hunter raised his gun He knew one charge was all And through the boy's pursuing foe He sent his only ball. The other on George Nidiver Came on with dreadful pace: The hunter stood unarmed, And met him face to face. I say unarmed he stood: George Nidiver stood still, And looked him in the face : The wild beast stopped amazed, Then came with slackening pace. Still firm the hunter stood, The hunter met his gaze, Nor yet an inch gave way; The bear turned slowly round, And slowly moved away. What thoughts were in his mind What thoughts were in George Nidiver, But sure that rifle's aim, Swift choice of generous part, Showed in its passing gleam The depths of a brave heart. HOW'S MY BOY? O, sailor of the sea! name, good wife, And in what ship sailed he?" "My boy John He that went to seaWhat care I for the ship, sailor? My boy's my boy to me. "You come back from sea, And not know my John? I might as well have asked some landsman, Yonder down in the town. There's not a soul in all the parish But knows my John. "How's my boy-my boy? And unless you let me know I'll swear you are no sailor, Blue jacket or no "Brass buttons or no, sailor, Anchor and crown or no Sure his ship was the 'Jolly Briton"". "Speak low, woman, speak low!" "And why should I speak low, sailor, Why should I speak low, sailor?"- What care I for the ship, sailor- Be she afloat or be she aground, "How's my boy-my boy? What care I for the men, sailor? SYDNEY DObell. ALL'S WELL. ESERTED by the waning moon, When skies proclaim night's cheerless noon, The sentry walks his lonely round; Where caution marks the guarded way, "Who goes there? Stranger, quickly tell!" "A friend!" "The word?" "Good-night;" all's well. Or, sailing on the midnight deep, When weary messmates soundly sleep, THE SEA-BIRD'S SONG. N the deep is the mariner's danger, 'Tis the sea-bird, sea-bird, sea-bird, The sea-bird, sea-bird, sea-bird, Who watches their course who so mildly Who hovers on high o'er the lover, And her who has clung to his neck? Whose wing is the wing that can cover With its shadow the foundering wreck? My eye in the light of the billow, My wing on the wake of the wave, I shall take to my breast for a pillow My foot on the iceberg has lighted, The sea-bird, sea-bird, sea-bird, JOHN G. C. BRAINARD. |