Rest in peace, thou gentle spirit,
Throned above;

Souls like thine with GoD inherit
Life and love!

BALLAD OF THE TEMPEST.

WE

E were crowded in the cabin,
Not a soul would dare to sleep;

It was midnight on the waters,
And a storm was on the deep.

'Tis a fearful thing in winter

To be shattered in the blast, And to hear the rattling trumpet

Thunder, "Cut away the mast!"

So we shuddered there in silence—
For the stoutest held his breath,
While the hungry sea was roaring,
And the breakers talked with Death.

As thus we sat in darkness,

Each one busy in his prayers-
"We are lost!" the captain shouted,
As he staggered down the stairs.

But his little daughter whispered,
As she took his icy hand,
"Isn't GOD upon the ocean,

Just the same as on the land ?”

Then we kissed the little maiden,

And we spoke in better cheer,
And we anchored safe in harbour
When the morn was shining clear.

George H. Boker.

A BALLAD OF SIR JOHN FRANKLIN.

"The ice was here, the ice was there,

The ice was all around."-COLERIDGE.

H, whither sail you, Sir JOHN FRANKLIN ?" Cried a whaler in Baffin's Bay. "To know if between the land and the pole I find a broad sea-way."

may

"I charge you back, Sir JOHN FRanklin,

As

you would live and thrive;

For between the land and the frozen pole
No man may sail alive."

But lightly laughed the stout Sir JOHN,

And spoke unto his men :

"Half England is wrong if he is right;

Bear off to westward then."

"Oh, whither sail you, brave Englishman ?"

Cried the little Esquimaux.

"Between your land and the polar star My goodly vessels go."

"Come down, if you would journey there,"

The little Indian said,

"And change your cloth for fur clothing, Your vessel for a sled."

But lightly laughed the stout Sir JOHN,
And the crew laughed with him too:
"A sailor to change from ship to sled,
I ween, were something new!"

All through the long, long polar day,
The vessels westward sped ;

And wherever the sail of Sir JOHN was blown,

The ice gave way and fled

Gave way with many a hollow groan,
And with many a surly roar,

But it murmured and threatened on every side,

And closed where he sailed before.

"Ho! see ye not, my merry men,
The broad and open sea?
Bethink ye what the whaler said,
Think of the little Indian's sled !"
The crew laughed out in glee.

"Sir JOHN, Sir JOHN, 'tis bitter cold,
The scud drives on the breeze,
The ice comes looming from the north,
The very sunbeams freeze."

"Bright summer goes, dark winter comes—
We cannot rule the year;

But long ere summer's sun goes down,
On yonder sea we'll steer."

The dripping icebergs dipped and rose,

And floundered down the gale;

The ships were stayed, the yards were manned, And furled the useless sail.

"The summer's gone, the winter's come,

We sail not on yonder sea:

Why sail we not, Sir JOHN FRANKLIN ?"

A silent man was he.

"The summer goes, the winter comes-
We cannot rule the year:

I ween, we cannot rule the ways,
Sir JOHN, wherein we'd steer."

The cruel ice came floating on,
And closed beneath the lee,

Till the thickening waters dashed no more;
'Twas ice around, behind, before—

My God! there is no sea!

"What think you of the whaler now?
What of the Esquimaux ?

A sled were better than a ship,
To cruise through ice and snow."

Down sank the baleful crimson sun,
The Northern Light came out,
And glared upon the ice-bound ships,
And shook its spears about.

The snow came down, storm breeding storm,

And on the decks was laid:

Till the weary sailor, sick at heart,

Sank down beside his spade.

"Sir JOHN, the night is black and long, The hissing wind is bleak,

The hard, green ice is strong as death :—

I prithee, Captain, speak!"

"The night is neither bright nor short, The singing breeze is cold,

The ice is not so strong as hope

The heart of man is bold !"

1

"What hope can scale this icy wall,
High o'er the main flag-staff?
Above the ridges the wolf and bear
Look down with a patient, settled stare,
Look down on us and laugh."

The summer went, the winter came―
We could not rule the year;

But summer will melt the ice again,
And open a path to the sunny main,
Whereon our ships shall steer.

The winter went, the summer went,
The winter came around:

:

But the hard, green ice was strong as death, And the voice of Hope sank to a breath, Yet caught at every sound.

'Hark! heard ye not the noise of guns? And there, and there, again?" ""Tis some uneasy iceberg's roar,

As he turns in the frozen main.”