Were burnt for beacons; cities were consumed; And fearful hope was all the world contained: The flashes fell upon them. Some lay down, The wild birds And, terrified, did flutter on the ground, And War, which for a moment was no more, Did glut himself again :-a meal was bought With blood, and each sat sullenly apart, Gorging himself in gloom; no love was left: All earth was but one thought,—and that was death, Died, and their bones were tombless as their flesh; The birds, and beasts, and famished men, at bay, The crowd was famished by degrees; but two And they were enemies; they met beside Where had been heaped a mass of holy things And, shivering, scraped, with their cold, skeleton hands, Each other's aspects,―saw, and shrieked, and died,— And their masts fell down piecemeal; as they dropped, The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave; Ex. CXXIII-THE DEMON SHIP. HOOD. 'T WAS off the Wash-the sun went down-the sea looked black and grim, For stormy clouds, with murky fleece, were mustering at the brim; Titanic shades! enormous gloom!-as if the solid night It was a time for mariners to bear a wary eye, With such a dark conspiracy between the sea and sky! Down went my helm-close reefed-the tack held freely in my hand With ballast snug I put about, and scudded for the land. Loud hissed the sea beneath her lee; my little boat flew fast, But faster still the rushing storm came, borne upon the blast. Lord! what a roaring hurricane beset the straining sail! What furious sleet, with level drift, and fierce assaults of hail! What darksome caverns yawned before! what jagged steeps behind! Like battle-steeds, with foamy manes, wild tossing in the wind. Each after each sank down astern, exhausted in the chase, A snowy sheet, as if each surge upturned a sailor's shroud : Its briny sleet began to beat beforehand in my face I felt the rearward keel begin to climb its swelling base! Another pulse, and down it rushed, an avalanche of brine! Beyond that rush I have no hint of any after-deed For I was tossing on the waste, as senseless as a weed. With sharp and sudden pang I drew another birth of breath; O! never may the moon again disclose me such a sight As met my gaze, when first I looked on that accursed night! I've seen a thousand horrid shapes, begot of fierce extremes Of fever; and most frightful things have haunted in my dreams Hyenas, cats, blood-loving bats, and apes with hateful stare, Pernicious snakes, and shaggy bulls, the lion, and she-bear, Strong enemies, with Judas looks, of treachery and spiteDetested features, hardly dimmed and banished by the light! Pale-sheeted ghosts, with gory locks, upstarting from their tombs All fantasies and images, that flit in midnight glooms— Hags, goblins, demons, lemures, have made me all aghast,But nothing like that Grimly One who stood beside the mast! His cheek was black-his brow was black-his eyes and hair as dark: His hand was black, and where it touched it left a sable mark; His throat was black, his vest the same, and when I looked beneath, His breast was black-all, all was black, except his grinning teeth. His sooty crew were like in hues, as black as Afric slaves! waves! "Alas!" I cried, "for love of truth and blessed mercy's sake, Where am I? in what dreadful ship? upon what dreadful lake ? What shape is that, so very grim, and black as any coal? My happy days, when I was yet a little sinless child- stern A dozen pair of grimly cheeks were crumpled on the nonce- They crowed their fill, and then the chief made answer for the whole, "Our skins," said he, "are black, ye see, because we carry coal; You'll find your mother, sure enough, and all your native fields For this here ship has picked you up-the 'Mary Ann,' of Shields!" Ex. CXXIV.-THE BARON'S LAST BANQUET. ALBERT G. GREENE. O'ER a low couch the setting sun had thrown its latest ray, By wasting pain, till time and toil its iron strength had spent. They come around me here, and say my days of life are o'er, That I shall mount my noble steed and lead my band no more; They come, and, to my beard, they dare to tell me now that I, Their own liege lord and master born, that I—ha! ha!— must die. "And what is death? I've dared him oft, before the Paynim spear; Think ye he's entered at my gate-has come to seek me here? I've met him, faced him, scorned him, when the fight was raging hot; I'll try his might, I'll brave his power!-defy, and fear him not! "Ho! sound the tocsin from my tower, and fire the culverin; Bid each retainer arm with speed; call every vassal in. Up with my banner on the wall,-the banquet-board prepare, Throw wide the portal of my hall, and bring my armor there!" An hundred hands were busy then: the banquet forth was spread, And rung the heavy oaken floor with many a martial tread; |