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All night the storm had raged, nor ceased,
nor paused, When, as day broke, the Maid, through misty
air, Espies far off a Wreck, amid the surf, Beating on one of those disastrous islesHalf of a Vessel, half—no more; the rest Had vanished, swallowed up with all that there Had for the common safety striven in vain, Or thither thronged for refuge. With quick
glance Daughter and Sire through optic-glass discern, Clinging about the remnant of this Ship, Creatures-how precious in the Maiden's sight! For whom, belike, the old Man grieves still more Than for their fellow-sufferers engulfed Where every parting agony is hushed, And hope and fear mix not in further strife. “But courage, Father! let us out to seaA few may yet be saved." The Daughter's
words, Her earnest tone, and look beaming with faith, Dispel the Father's doubts: nor do they lack The noble-minded Mother's helping hand To launch the boat; and with her blessing
cheered. And inwardly sustained by silent prayer, Together they put forth, Father and Child ! 50 Each grasps an oar, and struggling on they go-Rivals in effort; and, alike intent Here to elude and there surmount, they watch The billows lengthening, mutually crossed And shattered, and re-gathering their might; As if the tumult, by the Almighty's will
56 Were, in the conscious sea, roused and pro
longed That woman's fortitude-so tried, so proved
May brighten more and inore !
True to the mark, They stem the current of that perilous gorge, Their
still strengthening with the strengthening heart, Though danger, as the Wreck is neared,
becomes More imminent. Not unseen do they approach ; And rapture, with varieties of fear Incessantly conflicting, thrills the frames
65 Of those who, in that dauntless energy, Foretaste deliverance; but the least perturbed Can scarcely trust his eyes, when he perceives That of the pair-tossed on the waves to bring Hope to the hopeless, to the dying, lifeOne is a Woman, a poor earthly sister, Or, be the Visitant other than she seems, A guardian Spirit sent from pitying Heaven, In woman's shape. But why prolong the tale, Casting weak words amid a host of thoughts Armed to repel them ? Every hazard faced 76 And difficulty mastered, with resolve That no one breathing should be left to perish, This last remainder of the crew are all Placed in the little boat, then o'er the deep 80 Are safely borne, landed upon the beach, And, in fulfilment of God's mercy, lodged Within the sheltering Lighthouse.--Shout, ye
Waves! Send forth a song of triumph. Waves and Winds,
84 Exult in this deliverance wrought through faith In Him whose Providence your rage hath
served! Ye screaming Sea-mews, in the concert join! And would that some immortal Voice--a Voice
Fitly attuned to all that gratitude
resoluteMight carry to the clouds and to the stars, Yea, to celestial Choirs, GRACE DARLING'S
THE RUSSIAN FUGITIVE.
ENOUGH of rose-bud lips, and eyes
Like harebells bathed in dew,
And veins of violet hue;
A likening to frail flowers;
For seasons and for hours.
Through Moscow's gates, with gold unbarred,
Stepped One at dead of night,
From meditated blight;
As doth the hunted fawn,
15 Appeared unwelcome dawn.
Seven days she lurked in brake and field,
Seven nights her course renewed,
Or berries of the wood;
When lowly doors were shut,
Her Foster-mother's hut.
“ To put your love to dangerous proof
I come,” said she, “ from far;
In terror of the Czar."
No second look she cast,
Embracing and embraced.
She led the Lady to a seat
Beside the glimmering fire,
Prevented each desire:-
And on that simple bed,
Now rests her weary head.
When she, whose couch had been the sod,
Whose curtain pine or thorn,
Who comforts the forlorn;
45 Sleep sealed her eyes, and stole Feeling from limbs with travel spent,
And trouble from the soul.
Refreshed, the Wanderer rose at morn,
And soon again was dight
Through long and perilous flight;
My thanks with silent tears
Now listen to my fears !
“ Have you forgot"-and here she smiled
“The babbling flatteries
Disporting round your knees?
Your star, your gem, your
In many a cloudless hour!
“The blossom you so fondly praised
Is come to bitter fruit;
I spurned his lawless suit,
You, Foster-father dear,
I may not tarry here!
“I cannot bring to utter woe
Your proved fidelity."-
For you we both would die.”
And cheek embrowned by art; Yet, being inwardly unstained,
With courage will depart.”