They turned to the Earth, but she frowns on her child; they turned to the Sea, and he smiled as of old: Sweeter was the peril of the breakers white and wild, Sweeter than the land, with its bondage and gold! Bayard Taylorry The star of love now shines above, Among the leaves the wind-harp weaves Got Morris. [Written at Scarborough, in the Summer of 1805.] ALL hail to the ruins, the rocks, and the shores! Now brilliant with sunbeams and dimpled with oars, Now dark with the fresh-blowing gale, With the waters divided the land, His ramparts of rocks round the continent And cradled the deep in his hand, While soft o'er thy bosom the cloud-shadows sail, And leap o'er the bounds of his birth, If man may transgress his eternal command, And the silver-winged sea-fowl on high, Like meteors bespangle the sky, Or dive in the gulf, or triumphantly ride, Like foam on the surges, the swans of the tide. From the tumult and smoke of the city set free, From the crest of the mountain I gaze upon thee, For mine eye is illumined, my genius takes flight, And moves on thy waters, wherever they roll, My spirit descends where the dayspring is born, And the breezes that rock the light cradle of morn Are sweet as the Phoenix's pyre. O regions of beauty, of love and desire! O gardens of Eden! in vain Placed far on the fathomless main, To ravage the uttermost earth, And violate nations and realms that should be There are, gloomy Ocean, a brotherless clan, From the homes of their kindred, their fore- Love, friendship, and conjugal bliss, Demands of the spoiler his share of the prey. Then joy to the tempest that whelms them beneath, And makes their destruction its sport; But woe to the winds that propitiously breathe, Where the vultures and vampires of Mammon Where Nature with Innocence dwelt in her Where Europe exultingly drains youth, The life-blood from Africa's veins; When pure was her heart and unbroken her Where man rules o'er man with a merciless rod, And spurns at his footstool the image of God! truth. When the sun o'er the ocean descending in smiles, But firm as our rocks, and as free as our waves, Sinks softly and sweetly to rest? No! Father of mercy! befriend the opprest; And slave and his master devoutly unite To walk in thy freedom and dwell in thy light! As homeward my weary-winged Fancy extends Ah me! what new prospects, new horrors, arise! All foaming, and panting with blood; For Britannia is wielding the trident to-day, And hurling her thunder with absolute sway She triumphs; the winds and the waters conspire But the cries of the fatherless mix with her praise, And the tears of the widow are shed on her bays. O Britain, dear Britain! the land of my birth; O Isle most enchantingly fair! The spears of the Romans we broke, Thou Pearl of the Ocean! thou Gem of the And bends above our heads the flowering locust Serene and mild, the untried light May have its dawning; And, as in summer's northern night The evening and the dawn unite, Bends like an arch of fire the glowing sunse sky! So then, beach, bluff, and wave, farewell! No token stone nor glittering shell, Of this brief thoughtful hour of musing by the JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. TWILIGHT AT SEA. THE twilight hours, like birds, flew by, Ten thousand stars were in the sky, Had caught a star in its embrace, OCEAN. AMELIA B. WELBY. FROM "THE COURSE OF TIME," BOOK I. GREAT Ocean! strongest of creation's sons, The sunset hues of Time blend with the soul's In nature's anthem, and made music such As pleased the ear of God! original, Loud uttering satire, day and night, on each |