III.

Yet more I would know more! I burn to pierce
The hidden secrets of thy ocean home:

Where are the victims of its surges fierce,

Who dreamt of calms, and wakened 'mid its foam ;The souls that perished 'neath the stormy wave, When none were nigh to save?

IV.

Where are the stately ship, and gallant crew,
Whose hapless fate is sealed to all beside ?
The warrior bold a fear that never knew,

The love-linked pair whom death could not divide; (For thou hast seen them in their last embrace, Calm, sleeping face to face?)

V.

Fond hearts and true

the beautiful and brave,

Childhood's bright hair-the veteran's locks of grey; Foemen and friends, sink down to one wide grave, And none are spared to tell us where they lay. Where are the lost and loved so many seek?

Speak, I conjure thee, speak!

M

VI.

How dost thou answer?-With a low, sweet dirge

Sad as the booming of the sullen main,— The far-off warnings of the restless surge,

When storms are growing into strength again! Perchance a requiem for the glorious dead,

Youth, beauty, valour fled.

VII.

Whate'er thy source and purpose, I rejoice
To list thy mystic murmurings, soft and clear:
To me thou seemest like a still, small voice,
By conscience whispered in my world-vexed ear,
To lead my soul from grovelling things of earth,
To hopes of loftier birth!

[This little Poem was intended by its author as an imitation of the manner of Mrs. Hemans].

SECOND SIGHT.

BY MRS. HEMANS.

Ne'er erred the prophet heart that grief inspired, Though joy's illusions mock their votarist.

MATURIN.

I.

A mournful gift is mine, O friends!
A mournful gift is mine!

A murmur of the soul, which blends

With the flow of song and wine.

II.

An eye, that through the triumph's hour

Beholds the coming woe,

And dwells upon the faded flower,
Midst the rich summer's glow.

III.

Ye smile to view fair faces bloom

Where the father's board is spread;

I see the stillness and the gloom
Of a home whence all are fled.

IV.

I see the withered garlands lie

Forsaken on the earth,

While the lamps yet burn, and the dancers fly Through the ringing hall of mirth.

V.

I see the blood-red future stain

On the warrior's gorgeous crest, And the bier amidst the bridal train, When they come with roses drest.

VI.

I hear the still small moan of Time,

Through the ivy-branches made, Where the palace, in its glory's prime, With the sunshine stands arrayed.

VII.

The thunder of the seas I hear,

The shriek along the wave,

When the bark sweeps forth, and song and cheer

Salute the parting brave.

VIII.

With every breeze a spirit sends

To me some warning sign ;—

A mournful gift is mine, O friends!
A mournful gift is mine!

IX.

Oh! prophet heart! thy grief, thy power

To all deep souls belong;

The shadow in the sunny hour,

The wail in the mirthful song.

X.

This sight is all too sadly clear

For them a veil is riven;

Their piercing thoughts repose not here,
Their home is but in heaven!

SONG.

I.

LILY! the smile that lit thy brow
First won each feeling warm and deep;
But I could ne'er have loved as now,

Had I not seen thee weep.

II.

And if the vow you plighted when
Those tears were falling, be not kept,
I'll ne'er believe in tears again-
Although an angel wept.