O'er that vast plain where nought was seen
The ocean and the sky between,

And there all buried to the breast

In the hungry surf that round her prest―
With feeble arms, in anguish wild,

High o'er her head she raised her child,
Endured of winds and waves the strife,
To add a unit to its life.

Poor wretch, she deemed it might not be

That the cruel shark his meal should make Of the babe she'd nursed so tenderly,

By her own sweet native lake.

I whelmed that infant in the sea
To add a pang to her misery,

And the wretched mother's frantic yell
Came o'er me like a soothing spell!

Are ye so haughty in your pride,

To deem of all the earth beside,

That yours are fields and fragrant bowers,
And gold and gems of priceless worth,

And all the glory of the earth?
Ah, mean is all your pageantry

To that proud, fadeless blazonry,
That waves in scathless beauty free,
Beneath the blue, old rolling sea!
For there are flowers that wither not,
And leaves that never fall,

THE DEMON OF THE SEA.

Immortal forms in each wild grot,

Still bright and changeless all.
Decay is not on beauty's bloom,
Nor canker in the rose,
No prescience of a future doom

To mar the sweet repose.
There Proteus' changeful form is seen,
And Triton winds his shell,

While through old Ocean's valleys green,
The tuneful echoes swell.

But though a Demon rightly named,
For terror more than mercy famed,-

Yet Demons e'en respect the power

That nerves the heart in danger's hour.
And when the veteran of a hundred storms,
Whom, many a wild midnight,

I've girded with a thousand startling forms
Of terror and affright,-

When tempests roar, and hell-fiends scream,
The thunders crash, the lightnings gleam,

'Mid biting cold and driving hail

Still grasps the helm, still trims the sail,

Nor deigns to utter coward cries,
But as he lived, so fearless dies,-
Mingles his last faint, bubbling sigh

With the pealing tempest's banner-cry ;

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Then winds are hushed, the billow falls,
Where storms are wont to be,

As I bear him to the untrodden halls

Of the deep, unfathomed sea! Now Triton sends a mournful strain

Through all that vast profound,— At once a bright immortal train Come thronging at the sound.

And on a shining, pearly car

They place the honored dust,
And ocean's chargers gently bear
Along the sacred trust,
While far o'er all the glassy plain
By mighty Neptune led,

In sadness move that funeral train,-
Thus Ocean wails her dead!

And now the watch of Life is past,
The shattered hulk is moored at last,
Nor e'en the tempest's thrilling breath
Can wake the 'dull, cold ear of Death."
No bitter thoughts of home and loved ones dart
Their untold anguish through the seaman's heart.

-Peaceful be thy slumbers, brother,

There's no prouder grave for thee,
Well may pine for thee a mother,
Flower of ocean's chivalry!

SONNET

TO A BURGUNDY ROSE, PRESENTED THE AUTHOR BY

A LADY.

BY HENRY J. GARDNER.

FAIREST of flowers, by fairest lady given!
Thine only fault that thou wilt quickly fade,-
Though early plucked, yet blessed to be riven
From thine own stem, and on her bosom laid,
Like as a pearl in gold, a star in heaven!
Oh! I would dream were I not half afraid,-
That she in some thought-wildered happy hour,
Erst-while ere thou wert given me, fair flower,
A kiss perchance may have impressed on thee.
And I would dream that some mysterious power
Had kept the blessing in those leaves, for me!
So would I ply thee with a venturous lip,
The nectar of that hidden thing to sip,-

And dream the while of rose-lipped loveliness and thee!

MENTAL BEAUTY.

BY RICHARD H. VOSE.

I LOVE the hour when day is spent,

And stars are in the firmament:

Sweet hour of night, thy shadows roll, A heavenly calmness o'er the soul.

I love to gaze upon the deep,

When furious storms are lulled to rest; How calmly sweet those billows sleep, And mildly smile on ocean's breast.

Oh! who can gaze upon the ocean, And see the moonbeams sparkle there, Nor feel the flame of pure devotion, Nor offer up one fervent prayer.