He is gone at length; he is laid in the dust,
Death's hand his slumbers breaking;
For the coffined sleep of the good and just,
Is a sure and blissful waking!

His people's heart is his funeral urn;

And should sculptured stone be denied him, There will his name be found when, in turn, We lay our heads beside him.

MARINER'S HYMN.

LAUNCH thy bark, mariner!
Christian, God speed thee!
Let loose the rudder-bands-
Good angels lead thee!
Set thy sails warily,
Tempests will come;
Steer thy course steadily-
Christian, steer home!

-Horace Smith.

66

THE COMPLAINTS OF THE POOR.

Look to the weather-bow,

Breakers are round thee;
Let fall the plummet now,
Shallows may ground thee.
Reef in the foresail there,
Hold the helm fast;
So, let the vessel wear-
There swept the blast.

What of the night, watchman ?
What of the night?
Cloudy—all quiet—

No land yet-all's right."
Be watchful, be vigilant !
Danger may be

At an hour when all seemeth

Securest to thee.

How gains the leak so fast?
Clean out the hold,
Hoist up thy merchandise,
Heave out thy gold!
There, let the ingots go-
Now the ship rights:
Hurrah! the harbour's near-

Lo, the red lights!

Slacken not sail yet

At inlet or island,

Straight for the beacon steer

Straight for the high land;

Crowd all thy canvas on,

Cut through the foam

Christian, cast anchor now

Heaven is thy home!

-Caroline Southey.

THE COMPLAINTS OF THE POOR.

"AND wherefore do the poor complain ?" The rich man asked of me.

"Come, walk abroad with me,” I said, And I will answer thee."

133

ALL MEN ARE BRETHREN.

She said her father was at home,
And he lay sick in bed;
And therefore was it she was sent
Abroad to beg for bread.

We saw a woman sitting down
Upon a stone to rest;
She had a baby at her back,

And another at her breast.

I asked her why she loitered there,
When the wind it was so chill?
She turned her head, and bade the child
That screamed behind be still.

She told us that her husband served
A soldier far away;

And therefore to her parish she

Was begging back her way.

I turned me to the rich man then,
For silently stood he:

"You asked me why the poor complain,

And these have answered thee."

-Southey.

135

ALL MEN ARE BRETHREN.

CHILDREN we are all

Of one Great Father, in whatever clime

His Providence hath cast the seed of life

All tongues, all colours. Neither after death

Shall we be sorted into languages

And tints-white, black, and tawny-Greek and Goth,
Northmen and offspring of hot Africa.

The All-seeing Father-He in whom we live and move-
He, the impartial Judge of all, regards

Nations, and hues, and dialects alike.

According to their works shall they be judged,
When even-handed justice in the scale
Their good and evil weighs.

-Southey

THE INCHCAPE ROCK.

No stir in the air, no stir in the sea:
The ship was as still as she could be;
Her sails from heaven received no motion;
Her keel was steady in the ocean.

Without either sign or sound of their shock,
The waves flowed over the Inchcape Rock;
So little they rose, so little they fell,
They did not move the Inchcape Bell.

The good old Abbot of Aberbrothok
Had placed that bell on the Inchcape Rock.
On a buoy in the storm it floated and swung,
And over the waves its warning rung.

When the rock was hid by the surges' swell,
The mariners heard the warning bell;
And then they knew the perilous rock,
And blest the Abbot of Aberbrothok.

The sun in heaven was shining gay.
All things were joyful on that day:

The sea-birds screamed as they wheeled round,
And there was joyance in their sound.

The buoy of the Inchcape Bell was seen,
A darker speck on the ocean green:
Sir Ralph the Rover walked his deck,
And he fixed his eye on the darker speck.

He felt the cheering power
of spring;
It made him whistle, it made him sing;
His heart was mirthful to excess,
But the Rover's mirth was wickedness.

The boat is lowered, the boatmen row,
And to the Inchcape Rock they go ;
Sir Ralph bent over from the boat,

And he cut the bell from the Inchcape Float.