18.

19.

20

And a thousand years it firmly grew,
And a thousand blasts defied;

And, mighty in strength, its broad arms threw
A shadow dense and wide.

It

grew where the rocks were bursting out

From the thin and heaving soil

Where the ocean's roar, and the sailor's shout,
Were mingled in wild turmoil.

Where the far-off sound of the restless deep
Came up with a booming swell,

And the white foam dashed to the rocky steep;
But it loved the tumult well.

Then its huge limbs creaked in the midnight air,
And joined in the rude uproar;

For it loved the storm, and the lightning's glare,
And the sound of the breakers' roar,

The bleaching bones of the sea-bird's prey
Were heaped on the rocks below;

And the bald-head eagle, fierce and gray,

Looked off from its topmost bough.
Where its shadow lay on the quiet wave

The light boat often swung,

And the stout ship, saved from the ocean-grave,
Her cable round it flung.

21. Change came to the mighty things of earth,— Old empires passed away;

Of the generations that had birth,

O Death! where, where were they?
Yet fresh and green the brave oak stood,
Nor dreamed it of decay,

Though a thousand times in the autumn wood,
Its leaves on the pale earth lay.

22.

23.

24.

25.

A sound comes down in the forest trees,
An echoing from the hill;

It floats far off on the summer breeze,

And the shore resounds it shrill :

Lo! the monarch tree no more shall stand
Like a watch-tower of the main,-

The strokes fall thick from the woodman's hand,
And its falling shakes the plain.

The stout old oak!-'T was a worthy tree,
And the builder marked it out;

And he smiled its angled limbs to see,

As he measured the trunk about.

Already to him was a gallant bark
Careering the rolling deep,
And, in sunshine, calm, or tempest dark,
Her way she will proudly keep.

The chisel clicks, and the hammer rings,
And the merry jest goes round;
While he who longest and loudest sings,
Is the stoutest workman found.
With jointed rib, and treenailed plank
The work goes gayly on,

And light-spoke oaths, when the glass they drank,
Are heard till the task is done.

She sits on the stocks, the skeleton ship,
With her oaken ribs all bare,
And the child looks up with parted lip,
As it gathers fuel there;

With brimless hat, the bare-foot boy

Looks round with strange amaze,
And dreams of a sailor's life of joy
Are mingling in that gaze.

26.

27.

28.

29.

With graceful waist and carvings brave
'The trim hull waits the sea;

And she proudly stoops to the crested wave,
While round go the cheerings three.

from the yeasty deep,

Where it plunged in foam and spray;

And the glad waves gathering round her sweep,
And buoy her in their play.

Thou wert nobly reared, O heart of oak!
In the sound of the ocean roar,

Where the surging wave o'er the rough rock broke,
And bellowed along the shore.

And how wilt thou in the storm rejoice,

With the wind through spar and shroud,

To hear a sound like the forest voice,
When the blast was raging loud!

With snow-white sail, and streamer gay,
She sits like an ocean-sprite,
Careering on in her trackless way,

In sunshine or dark midnight:

Her course is laid with fearless skill,
For brave hearts man the helm;
And the joyous winds her canvas fill,-
Shall the wave the stout ship whelm ?

On, on she goes, where icebergs roll
Like floating cities by ;

Where meteors flash by the northern pole,

And the merry dancers fly;

Where the glittering light is backward flung
From icy tower and dome,

And the frozen shrouds are gayly hung

With gems from the ocean foam.

30.

31.

32.

On the Indian sea was her shadow cast,

As it lay like molten gold,

And her pendant shroud and towering mast
Seemed twice on the waters told.
The idle canvas slowly swung,

As the spicy breeze went by,

And strange, rare music around her rung
From the palm-tree growing nigh.

O gallant ship! thou didst bear with thee
The gay and the breaking heart,

And weeping eyes looked out to see
Thy white-spread sails depart.
And, when the rattling casement told
Of many a periled ship,

The anxious wife her babes would fold,
And pray with trembling lip.

The petrel wheeled in her stormy flight;
The wind piped shrill and high;

On the topmast sat a pale blue light,

That flickered not to the eye:

The black cloud came like a banner down,
And down came the shrieking blast ;
The quivering ship on her beams is thrown,
And gone are helm and mast.

33 Helmless, but on before the gale

She plows the deep-troughed wave:
A gurgling sound—a frenzied wail—
And the ship hath found a grave.
And thus is the fate of the acorn told,
That fell from the old oak tree,

And the woodland Fays in the frosty mold
Preserved for its destiny.

EXERCISE CLII.

FALLS OF NIAGARA.

L. H. SIGOURNEY.

1. Every good Mussulman considers it a duty to perform, once in his life, a pilgrimage to the shrine of his Prophet at Mecca; and every American endeavors to make at least one visit to the Falls of Niagara. But the most devout Osmanlee that prostrates himself before the tomb of Mohammed, can feel no excess of fervor, that will compare with the sensations inspired, even in a mind and heart of ordinary sensibility, by the sight of this sublime cataract,—the wonder of the Atlantic world, the glorious temple not made with hands, where the incense of nature rises forever toward Nature's God, as the compressed waters of one vast inland sea pour down into another.

2. On arriving at Niagara, my young companion and myself, notwithstanding our impatience, had sufficient self-command to resolve on economizing our enjoyment, or, rather, lengthening it out, in seeing Niagara by degrees: reserving, for the last, the grand view that comprises the whole of the Falls at once. We found that we were right, and that the sum of our delight was greater in consequence.

3. They commence very gradually, where the bottom of the river first becomes slightly rocky. A few bells of white foam are scattered far apart on the surface of the dark green water, the current seeming to increase in velocity. As it proceeds, the foam-specks become larger and closer, till they run into long wreaths. Then these wreaths unite, and become ridges; and the ridges follow each other so closely, that they blend together into high wide crests of foam, that stretch from shore to shore: crowding one upon another, hurrying wildly on into those before them, and overtaken by those behind. By the time the Rapids have passed the Cataract Hotel, scarcely a streak of green can be discovered among them, so covered is the whole channel with spreading masses of snowy white.