My foot on the iceberg has lighted,
When hoarse the wild winds veer about;
My eye, when the bark is benighted,
Sees the lamp of the lighthouse go out.
I'm the sea-bird, sea-bird, sea-bird,
Lone looker on despair-

The sea-bird, sea-bird, sea-bird,

The only witness there.

JOHN G. C. BRAINARD.

HOMEWARD BOUND.

HEAD the ship for England!

Shake out every sail!

Blithe leap the billows,

Merry sings the gale.

Captain, work the reckoning;

How many knots a-day?—
Round the world and home again,
That's the sailor's way!

We've traded with the Yankees,

Brazilians, and Chinese ;

We've laugh'd with dusky beauties
In shade of tall palm-trees;
Across the Line and Gulf-Stream-

Round by Table Bay—
Everywhere and home again,

That's the sailor's way!

Nightly stands the North Star
Higher on our bow;

Straight we run for England;
Our thoughts are in it now.
Jolly time with friends on shore
When we've drawn our pay ;—-

All about and home again,
That's the sailor's way!

Tom will to his parents;
Jack will to his dear;
Joe to wife and children;
Bob to pipes and beer;
Dicky to the dancing-room,
To hear the fiddles play;—

Round the world and home again,

That's the sailor's way!

WILLIAM ALLINGHAM.

THE SAILOR.

(A ROMAIC BALLAD.)

THOU that hast a daughter

For one to woo and wed,

Give her to a husband

With snow upon his head : Oh, give her to an old man, Though little joy it be, Before the best young sailor That sails upon the sea!

U

How luckless is the sailor

When sick and like to die!
He sees no tender mother,

No sweetheart standing by.
Only the captain speaks to him,—
"Stand up, stand up, young man,
And steer the ship to haven

As none beside thee can."

"Thou sayest to me, 'Stand up, stand up ;' I say to thee, take hold,

Lift me a little from the deck,

My hands and feet are cold.

And let my head, I pray thee,

With handkerchiefs be bound:

There, take my love's own handkerchief, And tie it tightly round.

"Now bring the chart, the doleful chart;
See where these mountains meet--
The clouds are thick around their head,
The mists around their feet:

Cast anchor here; 'tis deep and safe
Within the rocky cleft ;

The little anchor on the right,

The great one on the left.

"And now to thee, O captain,
Most earnestly I pray,
That they may never bury me

In church or cloister gray;

But on the windy sea-beach,

At the ending of the land,
All on the surfy sea-beach,
Deep down into the sand.

For there will come the sailors,
Their voices I shall hear,
And at the casting of the anchor,
The yo-ho loud and clear;
And at hauling of the anchor,
The yo-ho and the cheer,-
Farewell, my love! for to thy bay
I nevermore may steer."

W. ALLINGHAM.

HOW'S MY BOY?

"Ho, Sailor of the sea!

How's my boy-my boy?"

"What's your boy's name, good-wife ? And in what ship sail'd he?"

"My boy John—

He that went to sea

What care I for the ship, sailor?
My boy's my boy to me.

"You come back from sea

And not know my John?

i

I might as well have asked some landsman

Yonder, down in the town.

There's not an ass in all the parish

But he knows my John.

"How's my boy-my boy?
And unless you let me know,
I'll swear you are no sailor,
Blue jacket or no,

Brass button or no, sailor,

Anchor and crown or no !

Sure his ship was the Jolly Britton—” "Speak low, woman, speak low!"

"And why should I speak low, sailor,
About my own boy John?
If I was loud as I am proud
I'd sing him over the town!
Why should I speak low, sailor?"
"That good ship went down,"

"How's my boy-my boy?

What care I for the ship, sailor,
I never was aboard her.

Be she afloat, or be she aground,
Sinking or swimming, I'll be bound,
Her owners can afford her!

I say how's my John ?"

"Every man on board went down,

Every man on board her,"