"Thou shalt have half my gold!" he That instant o'er the flood the moon

"And, oh! Lord William, dost thou know The boat sunk down, the murderer sunk How dreadful 'tis to die?

THE LITTLE MARINER.

Ay, sitting on your happy hearths, beside Oh! pleasant were the tales he told of lands your mother's knee, so strange and new; How should you know the miseries and And in my ignorance I vowed I'd be a sailor too:

dangers of the sea? My father was a mariner, and from my My father heard my vow with joy; so in earliest years the early May I can remember, night and day, my We went on board a merchantman, bound mother's prayers and tears. for Honduras Bay.

I can remember how she sighed when blew Right merrily, right merrily, we sailed the stormy gale; before the wind, And how for days she stood to watch the With a briskly heaving sea before, and the long-expected sail : landsman's cheer behind.

Hers was a silent, patient grief; but fears There was joy for me in every league, deand long delay, light on every strand, And wakeful nights and anxious days, were And I sat for days on the high foretop, on wearing her away. the long look-out for land.

And when the gusty winds were loud, and There was joy for me in the nightly watch, autumn leaves were red, on the burning tropic seas,

I watched, with heavy heart, beside my To mark the waves, like living fires, leap mother's dying bed: up to the freshening breeze. Just when her voice was feeblest, the Right merrily, right merrily, our gallant neighbours came to say, ship went free,

The ship was hailed an hour before, and Until we neared the rocky shoals within then was in the bay. the Western Sea.

Alas! too late the ship returned-too late Yet still none thought of danger near, till her life to save; in the silent night

My father closed her dying eyes, and laid The helmsman gave the dreadful word of Breakers to the right!"

her in the grave.

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He was a man of ardent hopes, who never The moment that his voice was heard, was knew dismay; felt the awful shock; And, spite of grief, the winter-time wore The ship sprang forward with a bound, and cheerfully away.

He had crossed the equinoctial line full seven times or more;

struck upon a rock.

All hands aloft!" our captain cried: in terror and dismay

And, sailing northward, had been wrecked They threw the cargo overboard, and cut on icy Labrador.

the masts away:

He knew the Spice Isles, every one, where "Twas all in vain, 'twas all in vain; the sea the clove and nutmeg grow,

rushed o'er the deck,

And the aloe towers, a stately tree, with And, shattered with the beating surf, down clustering bells of snow. went the parting wreck.

He had gone the length of Hindustan, down The moment that the wreck went down Ganges' holy flood; my father seized me fast, Through Persia, where the peacock broods, And leaping 'mid the thundering waves, a wild bird of the wood; seized on the broken mast.

And, in the forests of the West, had seen I know not how he bore me up, my senses the red deer chased,

seemed to swim,

And dwelt beneath the piny woods, a hun- A shuddering horror chilled my brain, ter of the waste.

and stiffened every limb.

What next I knew, was how at morn, on a | And day by day, though burning thirst bleak, barren shore, and pining hunger came,

Out of a hundred mariners, were living His mercy, through our misery, preserved only four. each drooping frame:

I looked around, like one who wakes from And after months of weary woe, sickness, dreams of fierce alarm, and travel sore,

And round my body still I felt, firm locked, He sent the blessed English ship that took my father's arm. us from that shore.

And with a rigid, dying grasp, he closely And now, without a home or friend, I held me fast, wander far and near, Even as he held me when he seized, at And tell my miserable tale to all who lend midnight, on the mast. With humble hearts and streaming eyes, Thus sitting by your happy hearths, beside down knelt the little band, your mother's knee,

an ear.

Praying Him who had preserved their lives How should you know the miseries and! to lend His guiding hand.

dangers of the sea?

She loved, and young Richard had settled And as hollowly howling it swept through

"Twas in autumn, and stormy and dark was Yet the ruins were lonely and wild, and