Where the wide storms their banners fling, Thy fields, the boundless air; 2. Thou art perch'd aloft, on the +beetling crag, And on, with a haste that can not lag, Again thou hast plum'd thy wing for flight, And away, like a spirit wreath'd in light, 3. Lord of the +boundless realm of air! The hearts of the bold and ardent dare Beneath the shade of thy golden wings, From the river of Egypt's cloudy springs, 4. For thee they fought, for thee they fell, Thou wert, through an age of death and fears, 5. And then, a deluge of wrath it came, And the nations shook with dread; And it swept the earth, till its fields were flame, And pil'd with the mingled dead. Kings were roll'd in the wasteful flood, With the low and crouching slave; And together lay in a shroud of blood, *The Roman standard was the image of an eagle. The soldiers swore by it, and the loss of it was considered a disgrace. † Alluding to the destruction of Rome by the northern barbarians. 6. And where was then thy fearless flight? There, on the silent and lonely shore, And the world in its darkness, ask'd no more 7. "But then, came a bold and hardy few, 8 "And now, that bold and hardy few And danger and doubt I have led them through, And over their bright and +glancing arms, With an eye that fires, and a spell that charms, CVI. - THE SHIPWRECK. of the 1. IN the winter of 1824, Lieutenant GUnited States navy, with his beautiful wife and infant child, tembarked in a packet at Norfolk, bound to South Carolina. For the first day and night after their departure, the wind continued fair, and the weather clear; but, on the evening of the second day, a severe gale sprung up, and, toward midnight, the captain, judging himself much further from the land than he really was, and dreading the Gulf Stream, hauled in for the coast; but with the intention, it is presumed, of lying to when he supposed himself clear of the Gulf. Lieut. G. did not approve of the captain's determination, and the result proved that his fears were well founded; for toward morning the vessel grounded. 2. Vain would it be, to attempt a description of the horror which was depicted in every countenance, when the awful shock, occasioned by the striking of the vessel's bottom, was first experienced. The terror of such a situation can be known only to those, who have themselves been shipwrecked. No others can have a tolerable idea of what passed in the minds of the wretched crew, as they gazed with vacant horror on the thundering elements, and felt, that their frail bark must soon, perhaps the next thump, be dashed to pieces, and they left at the mercy of the billows, with not even a plank between them and eternity. First, comes the thumping of the vessel; next the dashing of the surge over her sides; then, the tcareening of the vessel on her beam ends, as the waves, for an instant, recede; and lastly, the crashing of the spars and timbers, at each returning wave; the whole forming a scene of confusion and horror which no language can describe. 3. But awful as is the shipwrecked sailor's prospect, what are his feelings compared to the agony of a fond husband and father, who clasps in a last embrace his little world, his beloved wife and child! The land was in sight, but to approach it was scarcely less dangerous, than to remain in the raging sea around them. Lieut. G. was a seaman, and a brave one; accustomed to danger, and quick in seizing upon every means of rescuing the unfortunate. But now, who were the unfortunate, that called on him for rescue? Who were they, whose screams were heard louder than the roaring elements, imploring that aid which no human power could afford them? His wife and child! O! heart-rending *agony. 4. But why attempt to describe what few can imagine? In a word, the only boat which could be got, was manned by two gallant tars. Mrs. G., and her child, and its nurse were lifted into it; it was the thought of +desperation! The freight was already too much. Mr. G. saw this, and knew that the addition of himself would diminish the chances of the boat's reaching the shore in safety; and horrible as was the alternative, he himself gave the order;— “Push off, and make for the land, my brave lads !"—the last words that ever passed his lips! The order was obeyed; but ere the little boat had proceeded fifty yards, (about half the distance to the beach,) it was struck by a wave, *capsized, and boat, passengers, and all, *enveloped in the angry surge! The wretched husband saw but too distinctly the destruction of all that he held dear. But here, alas, and forever were shut out from him all *sublunary prospects. He fell upon the deck-powerless, senseless, a CORPSE-the victim of a sublime sensibility. 5. But what became of the unhappy wife and child? The answer shall be brief. Mrs. G. was borne through the breakers to the shore by one of the brave sailors; the nurse was thrown upon the beach with the drowned infant in her arms. Mrs. G. was taken to a hut senseless, continued *delirious many days, but finally recovered her senses, and with them, a consciousness of the awful catastrophe which, in a moment, had made her a CHILDLESS WIDOW. 1. I know thou art gone to the land of thy rest; I know thou art gone where the weary are blest, Where Love has put off in the land of its birth, And Hope, the sweet singer that gladden'd the earth, 2. I know thou art gone where thy forehead is starr'd Where the light of thy loveliness can not be marr'd, I know thou hast drunk of the Lethe that flows 3. This eye must be dark that so long has been dim, But my heart has revealings of thee and thy home, I never look up with a vow, to the sky, 4. In the far-away dwelling, wherever it be, And the love that made all things as music to me, In the thush of the night, on the waste of the sea, I have ever a presence that whispers of thee, 5. And though like a mourner that sits by a tomb, Yet the grief of my bosom-oh! call it not gloom- By sorrow treveal'd, as the stars are by night, And hope, like the rainbow-a creature of light, CVIII. THE EAGLE'S NEST. BAIRN; Child. - FROM WILSON. WEE WEAN; a little child. 1. ALMOST all the people in the parish were loading in their meadow-hay on the same day of midsummer, so drying was the sunshine and the wind; and huge heaped-up twains, that almost hid from view the horses that drew them along the sward beginning to get green with second growth, were moving in all directions toward the snug farm-yards. Never had the parish seemed before so populous. +Jocund was the balmy air with laughter, whistle, and song. But the +tree-gnomons threw the shadow of " one o'clock" on the green dial-face of the earth; the horses were unyoked and took instantly to gazing; groups of men, women, lads, lasses, and children, collected under grove, and bush, and hedgerow; graces were pronounced, some of them rather too tedious in presence of the mantling milk-cans, bullion-bars of butter, |