And life in me: there was a horrid kind From heaven or earth-and rather let me see Myr. And the end? Sar. At last I sate marble, as they, when rose The hunter, and the crew; and smiling on meYes, the enlarged but noble aspect of The hunter smiled upon me-I should say His lips, for his eyes moved not-and the woman's Sar. Embraced me, while I shrunk from her, as if, Had been the son who slew her for her incest. But think not of these things-the mere creations Unused to toil, yet over-wrought by toil Sar. I am better. Now that I see thee once more, what was seen SATAN AT HEAVEN'S GATE. But bringing up the rear of this bright host, And where he gazed a gloom pervaded space. THE SHIPWRECK 'Twas twilight, for the sunless day went down Over the waste of waters; like a veil, Which, if withdrawn, would but disclose the frown Of one who hates us, so the night was shown, And grimly darkled o'er their faces pale, And hopeless eyes, which o'er the deep alone Gazed dim and desolate; twelve days had Fear Been their familiar, and now Death was here. Some trial had been making at a raft, With little hope in such a rolling sea, A sort of thing at which one would have laugh'd, Their preservation would have been a miracle. At half past eight o'clock, booms, hencoops, spars, And the sea yawn'd around her like a hell, And down she suck'd with her the whirling wave, Like one who grapples with his enemy, And strives to strangle him before he die. And first one universal shriek there rush'd, Of echoing thunder: and then all was hush'd, Save the wild wind, and the remorseless dash * There were two fathers in this ghastly crew, But he died early; and when he was gone, [done, One glance on him, and said, "Heaven's will be I can do nothing," and he saw him thrown Into the deep without a tear or groan. The other father had a weaklier child, Of a soft cheek, and aspect delicate; But the boy bore up long, and with a mild And patient spirit held aloof his fate; Little he said, and now and then he smiled, As if to win a part from off the weight He saw increasing on his father's heart, With the deep deadly thought, that they must part. And o'er him bent his sire, and never raised His eyes from off his face, but wiped the foam From his pale lips, and ever on him gazed, And when the wish'd for shower at length was come, And the boy's eyes, which the dull film half glazed, Brightened, and for a moment seem'd to roam, He squeezed from out a rag some drops of rain Into his dying child's mouth-but in vain. The boy expired—the father held the clay, nd looked upon it long, and when at last Death left no doubt, and the dead burthen lay 'Twas borne by the rude wave wherein 'twas cast. Then he himself sunk down, all dumb and shivering, And gave no sign of life, save his limbs quivering. Now overhead, a rainbow, bursting through The scattering clouds, shone-spanning the dark sea, Resting its bright base on the quivering blue : And all within its arch appeared to be Clearer than that without, and its wide hue Wax'd broad and waving, like a banner free, Then changed like to a bow that's bent, and then Forsook the dim eyes of these shipwreck❜d men, It changed, of course; a heavenly cameleon, The airy child of vapour and the sun, Brought forth in purple, cradled in vermilion, Baptized in molten gold, and swathed in dun, Glittering like crescents o'er a Turk's pavilion, And blending every colour into one. * With twilight it again came on to blow, But not with violence; the stars shone out, The boat made way: yet now they were so low, They knew not where nor what they were about. Some fancied they saw land, and some said "No!" The frequent fog-banks gave them cause to doubtSome swore that they heard breakers, others guns, And all mistook about the latter once. As morning broke, the light wind died away, When he who had the watch sung out and swore If 'twas not land that rose with the sun's ray, He wish'd that land he never might see more; |