CHANGES ON THE DEEP.

A GALLANT ship! and trim and tight
Across the deep she speeds away,
While mantled with the golden light
The sun throws back at close of day.
And who, that sees that stately ship
Her haughty stem in ocean dip,
Has ever seen a prouder one
Illumined by a setting sun?

The breath of summer, sweet and soft,

Her canvass swells, while, wide and fair,
And floating from her mast aloft,

Her flag plays off on gentle air.
And, as her steady prow divides
The waters to her even sides,
She passes, like a bird, between
The peaceful deep and sky serene.
And now gray twilight's tender veil

The moon with shafts of silver rends;
And down on billow, deck, and sail,
Her placid lustre gently sends.
The stars, as if the arch of blue
Were pierced to let the glory through,
From their bright world look out and win
The thoughts of man to enter in.
And many a heart that's warm and true
That noble ship bears on with pride;
While, mid the many forms, are two

Of passing beauty, side by side.

A fair young mother, standing by
Her bosom's lord, has fixed her eye,
With his, upon the blessed star
That points them to their home afar.
Their thoughts fly forth to those, who there
Are waiting now, with joy to hail
The moment that shall grant their prayer,
And heave in sight their coming sail.
For, many a time the changeful queen
Of night has vanished, and been seen,
Since, o'er a foreign shore to roam,
They passed from that dear, native home.
The babe, that on its father's breast
Has let its little eyelids close,
The mother bears below to rest,

And sinks with it in sweet repose.
The while a sailor climbs the shroud,
And in the distance spies a cloud:
Low, like a swelling seed, it lies,
From which the towering storm shall rise.
The powers of air are now about

To muster from their hidden caves;
The winds, unchained, come rushing out,
And into mountains heap the waves.
Upon the sky the darkness spreads!
The Tempest on the Ocean treads;
And yawning caverns are its track
Amid the waters wild and black.

Its voice-but who shall give the sounds
Of that dread voice?-The ship is dashed
In roaring depths-and now she bounds
On high, by foaming surges lashed.

And how is she the storm to bide?
Its sweeping wings are strong and wide!
The hand of man has lost control
O'er her-his work is for the soul!

She's in a scene of Nature's war:
The winds and waters are at strife;
And both with her contending for

The brittle thread of human life
That she contains; while sail and shroud
Have yielded, and her head is bowed.
Then who that slender thread shall keep
But He whose finger moves the deep?

A moment-and the angry blast

Has done its work and hurried on. With parted cables, shivered mast

With riven sides, and anchor gone,
Behold the ship in ruin lie;

While from the waves a piercing cry
Surmounts the tumult high and wild,

And shouts to heaven," My child! my child!"

The mother in the whelming surge

Lifts up her infant o'er the sea,
While lying on the awful verge

Where time unveils eternity-
And calls to Mercy, from the skies
To come and rescue, while she dies,
The gift that, with her fleeting breath,
She offers from the gates of death.
It is a call for Heaven to hear.

Maternal fondness sends above
A voice, that in her Father's ear

Shall enter quick, for God is love.
In such a moment, hands like these
Their Maker with their offering sees;
And for the faith of such a breast
He will the blow of death arrest!

The moon looks pale from out the cloud,
While Mercy's angel takes the form
Of him, who, mounted on the shroud,
Was first to see the coming storm.
The sailor has a ready arm

To bring relief, and cope with harm;
Though rough his hand, and nerved with steel,
His heart is warm and quick to feel.
And see him, as he braves the frown
That sky and sea each other give!
Behold him where he plunges down,
That child and mother yet may live,
And plucks them from a closing grave!
They're saved! they're saved! the maddened

wave

Leaps foaming up, to find its prey

Snatched from its mouth and borne away.

They're saved! they're saved! but where is he,
Who lulled his fearless babe to sleep!
A floating plank on that wild sea

Has now his vital spark to keep!
But, by the wan, affrighted moon,
Help comes to him; and he is soon
Upon the deck with living men
To clasp that smiling boy again.

WITH cherub smile, the prattling boy,
Who on the veteran's breast reclines,
Has thrown aside his favorite toy,

And round his tender finger twines
Those scattered locks, that, with the flight
Of fourscore years, are snowy white;
And, as a scar arrests his view,

He cries, "Grandpa, what wounded you?"

"My child, 'tis five-and-fifty years

This very day, this very hour,
Since, from a scene of blood and tears,
Where valor fell by hostile power,
I saw retire the setting sun
Behind the hills of Lexington;
While pale and lifeless on the plain
My brothers lay, for freedom slain !

"And ere that fight, the first that spoke
In thunder to our land, was o'er,
Amid the clouds of fire and smoke,

I felt my garments wet with gore!
"Tis since that dread and wild affray,
That trying, dark, eventful day,
From this calm April eve so far,
I wear upon my cheek the scar.

"When thou to manhood shalt be grown,

And I am gone in dust to sleep,
May freedom's rights be still thine own,
And thou and thine in quiet reap
The unblighted product of the toil
In which my blood bedewed the soil!
And, while those fruits thou shalt enjoy,
Bethink thee of this scar, my boy.

"But, should thy country's voice be heard
To bid her children fly to arms,
Gird on thy grandsire's trusty sword:
And, undismayed by war's alarms,
Remember, on the battle field,
I made the hand of GoD my shield:
And be thou spared, like me, to tell
What bore thee up, while others fell!"

THE SNOWFLAKE.

"Now, if I fall, will it be my lot
To be cast in some lone and lowly spot,
To melt, and to sink unseen, or forgot?

And there will my course be ended?"
"T was this a feathery Snowflake said,
As down through measureless space it strayed,
Or as, half by dalliance, half afraid,

It seemed in mid air suspended.

"Oh, no!" said the Earth, "thou shalt not lie
Neglected and lone on my lap to die,
Thou pure and delicate child of the sky!

For thou wilt be safe in my keeping.
But, then, I must give thee a lovelier form-
Thou wilt not be a part of the wintry storm,
But revive, when the sunbeams are yellow and

warm,

And the flowers from my bosom are peeping!

"And then thou shalt have thy choice, to be
Restored in the lily that decks the lea,
In the jessamine bloom, the anemone,

Or aught of thy spotless whiteness;
To melt, and be cast in a glittering bead
With the pearls that the night scatters over the

mead,

In the cup where the bee and the firefly feed,
Regaining thy dazzling brightness.

"I'll let thee awake from thy transient sleep,
When Viola's mild blue eye shall weep,

In a tremulous tear; or, a diamond, leap
In a drop from the unlocked fountain;
Or, leaving the valley, the meadow, and heath,
The streamlet, the flowers, and all beneath,
Go up and be wove in the silvery wreath
Encircling the brow of the mountain.

"Or wouldst thou return to a home in the skies,
To shine in the Iris I'll let thee arise,
And appear in the many and glorious dyes

A pencil of sunbeams is blending!
But true, fair thing, as my name is Earth,
I'll give thee a new and vernal birth,
When thou shalt recover thy primal worth,
And never regret descending!"

"Then I will drop," said the trusting Flake; But, bear it in mind, that the choice I make Is not in the flowers nor the dew to wake;

66

Nor the mist, that shall pass with the morning. For, things of thyself, they will die with thee; But those that are lent from on high, like me, Must rise, and will live, from thy dust set free, To the regions above returning.

"And if true to thy word and just thou art,
Like the spirit that dwells in the holiest heart,
Unsullied by thee, thou wilt let me depart,

And return to my native heaven.
For I would be placed in the beautiful bow,
From time to time, in thy sight to glow;
So thou mayst remember the Flake of Snow
By the promise that God hath given!"

THE WINDS.

WE come! we come! and ye feel our might,
As we're hastening on in our boundless flight,
And over the mountains and over the deep
Our broad, invisible pinions sweep,
Like the spirit of Liberty, wild and free!
And ye look on our works, and own 'tis we;
Ye call us the Winds: but can ye tell
Whither we go, or where we dwell?

rent,

Ye mark, as we vary our forms of power,
And fell the forests, or fan the flower,
When the harebell moves, and the rush is bent,
When the tower's o'erthrown, and the oak
As we waft the bark o'er the slumbering wave,
Or hurry its crew to a watery grave;
And ye say it is we!-but can ye trace
The wandering winds to their secret place?

And, whether our breath be loud or high,
Or come in a soft and balmy sigh,
Our threatenings fill the soul with fear,
Or our gentle whisperings woo the ear
With music aerial, still 't is we.

And ye list and ye look; but what do ye see?
Can ye hush one sound of our voice to peace,
Or waken one note when our numbers cease?

Our dwelling is in the Almighty's hand;
We come and we go at his command.
Though joy or sorrow may mark our track,
His will is our guide, and we look not back:
And if, in our wrath ye would turn us away,
Or win us in gentle airs to play,

Then lift up your hearts to Him who binds
Or frees, as he will, the obedient winds.

THE FROST.

THE Frost looked forth one still, clear night,
And whispered, "Now I shall be out of sight:
So, through the valley, and over the height,
In silence I'll take my way.

I will not go on like that blustering train-
The wind and the snow, the hail and the rain-
Who make so much bustle and noise in vain;
But I'll be as busy as they."

Then he flew to the mountain and powder'd its crest;
He lit on the trees, and their boughs he drest
In diamond beads; and over the breast
Of the quivering lake he spread

A coat of mail, that it need not fear
The downward point of many a spear
That he hung on its margin, far and near,

Where a rock could rear its head.

He went to the windows of those who slept,
And over each pane, like a fairy, crept;
Wherever he breathed, wherever he stept,

By the light of the morn, were seen
Most beautiful things: there were flowers and trees;
There were bevies of birds, and swarms of bees;
There were cities, with temples and towers-and
All pictured in silver sheen!
[these

YE mighty waters, that have joined your forces, Roaring and dashing with this awful sound, Here are ye mingled; but the distant sources Whence ye have issued-where shall they be found?

Who may retrace the ways that ye have taken, Ye streams and drops? who separate you all, And find the many places ye've forsaken,

To come and rush together down the fall? Through thousand, thousand paths have ye been roaming,

In earth and air, who now each other urge To the last point! and then, so madly foaming,

Leap down at once from this stupendous verge. Some in the lowering cloud a while were centred, That in the stream beheld its sable face, And melted into tears, that, falling, entered With sister waters on this sudden race. Others, to light that beamed upon the fountain, Have from the vitals of the rock been freed, In silver threads, that, shining down the mountain, Twined off among the verdure of the mead. And many a flower that bowed beside the river, In opening beauty, ere the dew was dried, Stirred by the breeze, has been an early giver Of her pure offering to the rolling tide. Thus, from the veins, through earth's dark bosom pouring,

Many have flowed in tributary streams;
Some, in the bow that bent, the sun adoring,
Have shone in colors borrowed from his beams.
But He, who holds the ocean in the hollow

Of his strong hand, can separate you all!
His searching eye the secret way will follow
Of every drop that hurries to the fall!
We are, like you, in mighty torrents mingled,

And speeding downward to one common home; Yet there's an Eye that every drop hath singled, And marked the winding ways through which

we come.

Those who have here adored the Sun of heaven, And shown the world their brightness drawn

from him,

Again before him, though their hues be seven,

Shall blend their beauty, never to grow dim.

We bless the promise, as we thus are tending

Down to the tomb, that gives us hope to rise Before the Power to whom we now are bending, To stand his bow of glory in the skies!

THE MOON UPON THE SPIRE.

THE full orbed moon has reached no higher
Than yon old church's mossy spire,
And seems, as gliding up the air,
She saw the fane; and, pausing there,
Would worship, in the tranquil night,
The Prince of Peace-the Source of light,
Where man for GoD prepared the place,
And God to man unveils his face.
Her tribute all around is seen;
She bends, and worships like a queen!
Her robe of light and beaming crown
In silence she is casting down;
And, as a creature of the earth,
She feels her lowliness of birth-
Her weakness and inconstancy
Before unchanging purity!

Pale traveller, on thy lonely way,
"Tis well thine homage thus to pay;
To reverence that ancient pile,
And spread thy silver o'er the aisle
Which many a pious foot has trod,
That now is dust beneath the sod;
Where many a sacred tear was wept
From eyes that long in death have slept!
The temple's builders-where are they?
The worshippers?-all passed away,
Who came the first, to offer there
The song of praise, the heart of prayer!
Man's generation passes soon;
It wanes and changes like the moon.
He raises the perishable wall,
But, ere it crumbles, he must fall!
And does he sink to rise no more?
Has he no part to triumph o'er
The pallid king? no spark, to save
From darkness, ashes, and the grave?
Thou holy place, the answer, wrought
In thy firm structure, bars the thought!
The Spirit that established thee

Nor death nor darkness e'er shall see!

THE ROBE.

"T was not the robe of state

Which the high and the haughty wear, That my busy hand, as the lamp burned late, Was hastening to prepare.

It had no clasp of gold, No diamond's dazzling blaze, For the festive board; nor the graceful fold To float in the dance's maze.

"T was not to wrap the breast With gladness light and warm;

For the bride's attire for the joyous guest,
Nor to clothe the sufferer's form.

"T was not the garb of wo
We wear o'er an aching heart,
When our eyes with bitter tears o'erflow,
And our dearest ones depart.

"Twas what we all must bear To the cold, the lonely bed! "Twas the spotless uniform they wear In the chambers of the dead!

I saw the fair young maid
In the snowy vesture drest;
So pure, she looked as one arrayed
For the mansions of the blest.

A smile had left its trace
On her lip at the parting breath,
And the beauty in that lovely face
Was fixed with the seal of death!

THE CONSIGNMENT.
FIRE, my hand is on the key,
And the cabinet must ope!

I shall now consign to thee
Things of grief, of joy, of hope.
Treasured secrets of the heart

To thy care I hence intrust:
Not a word must thou impart,

But reduce them all to dust. This in childhood's rosy morn, This was gayly filled and sent. Childhood is for ever gone:

Here, devouring element !

This was Friendship's cherished pledge; Friendship took a colder form: Creeping on its gilded edge,

May the blaze be bright and warm!

These the letter and the token,

Never more shall meet my view! When the faith has once been broken, Let the memory perish too! This 'twas penned while purest joy Warmed the heart, and lit the eye. Fate that peace did soon destroy, And its transcript now will I! This must go! for, on the seal When I broke the solemn yew, Keener was the pang than steel;

"T was a heart string breaking, too! Here comes up the blotted leaf,

Blistered o'er by many a tear. Hence! thou waking shade of grief! Go, for ever disappear!

This is his, who seemed to be

High as heaven, and fair as light: But the visor rose, and he

Spare, O Memory, spare the sight Of the face that frowned beneath, While I take it, hand and name, And entwine it with a wreath

Of the purifying flame!
These the hand is in the grave,
And the soul is in the skies,
Whence they came! "Tis pain to save
Cold remains of sundered ties!
Go together, all, and burn,

Once the treasures of my heart!
Still, my breast shall be an urn
To preserve your better part!