From the flashing surf, whose vision

Gleams Elysian

In the tropic clime of Youth;

From the strong Will, and the Endeavour

That for ever

Wrestles with the tides of Fate;

From the wreck of Hopes far-scattered,
Tempest-shattered,

Floating waste and desolate ;

Ever drifting, drifting, drifting
On the shifting

Currents of the restless heart;
Till at length in books recorded,

They, like hoarded

Household words, no more depart.

LONGFELLOW.

THE WIVES OF BRIXHAM.

You see the gentle water,

How silently it floats;
How cautiously, how steadily,
It moves the sleepy boats;
And all the little loops of pearl
It strews along the sand,
Steal out as leisurely as leaves
When summer is at hand.

S

And thunder from its rest,

When the stormy taunts of winter

Are flying at its breast; And if you like to listen,

And draw your chairs around,
I'll tell you what it did one night
When you were sleeping sound.

The merry boats of Brixham
Go out to search the seas;
A staunch and sturdy fleet are they,
Who love a swinging breeze;
And before the woods of Devon,
And the silver cliffs of Wales,
You may see, when summer evening falls,
The light upon their sails.

But when the year grows darker,
And grey winds hunt the foam,
They go back to little Brixham,
And ply their toil at home.

And thus it chanced one winter's night,
When a storm began to roar,

That all the men were out at sea,
And all the wives on shore.

Then as the winds grew fiercer,

The women's cheeks grew white,—

It was fiercer in the twilight,

And fiercest in the night;

'Out spake a wife,-"We've beds at home,
We'll burn them for a light."'

SEA SONGS AND BALLADS, page 275.

The strong clouds set themselves like ice

Without a star to melt,

The blackness of the darkness

Was darkness to be felt.

The storm, like an assassin,
Went on its wicked way,

And struck a hundred boats adrift,
To reel about the bay.

They meet, they crash-God keep the men!
God give a moment's light!
There is nothing but the tumult,

And the tempest and the night.

The men on shore were anxious,—
They dreaded what they knew;
What do you think the women did?
Love taught them what to do!
Out spake a wife,-"We've beds at home,
We'll burn them for a light,-

Give us the men and the bare ground!
We want no more to-night."

They took the grandame's blanket,

Who shivered and bade them go;

They took the baby's pillow,

Who could not say them no;

And they heaped a great fire on the pier ;
And knew not all the while

If they were heaping a bonfire,
Or only a funeral pile.