EXERCISE LXII.

THE STEAMBOAT.

SEE how yon flaming herald treads
The ridged and rolling waves,
As, crashing o'er their crested heads,
She bows her surly slaves!
With foam before and fire behind,
She rends the clinging sea,
That flies before the roaring wind,
Beneath her hissing lee.

The morning spray, like sea-born flowers,
With heaped and glistening bells,
Falls round her fast in ringing showers
With every wave that swells;
And, flaming o'er the midnight deep,
In lurid fringes thrown,

The living gems of ocean sweep
Along her flashing zone.

With clashing wheel, and lifting keel,

And smoking torch on high,

When winds are loud, and billows reel,

She thunders foaming by!

When seas are silent and serene,

With even beam she glides,

The sunshine glimmering through the green
That skirts her gleaming sides.

Now, like a wild nymph, far apart
She veils her shadowy form,
The beating of her restless heart
Still sounding through the storm;
Now answers, like a courtly dame,
The reddenning surges o'er,
With flying scarf of spangled flame,
The Pharos of the shore

To-night yon pilot shall not sleep,

Who trims his narrowed sail;
To-night yon frigate scarce shall keep
Her broad breast to the gale;

And many a foresail, scooped and strained,
Shall break from yard and stay,

Before this smoky wreath has stained
The rising mist of day.

Hark! hark! I hear yon whistling shrouds,-
I see yon quivering mast:

The black throat of the hunted cloud
Is panting forth the blast!

An hour, and, whirled like winnowing chaff,
The giant surge shall fling
His tresses o'er yon pennon-staff,
White as the sea bird's wing!

Yet rest, ye wanderers of the deep!
Nor wind nor wave shall tire
Those fleshless arms, whose pulses leap
With floods of living fire;

Sleep on and when the morning's light
Streams o'er the shining.bay,

Oh, think of those for whom the night
Shall never wake in day!

EXERCISE LXIII.

THE INQUIRY.

TELL me, ye winged winds,
That round my pathway roar,
Do not know some spot
ye
Where mortals weep no more?
Some lone and pleasant dell,
Some valley in the west,

Where, free from toil and pain
The weary soul may rest?

The loud wind dwindled to a whisper low,
And sighed for pity, as it answered, “No!"

Tell me, thou mighty deep,
Whose billows round me play,
Knowest thou some favored spot,
Some island far away,

Where weary man may find
The bliss for which he sighs,
Where sorrow never lives,
And friendship never dies?

The loud waves, rolling in perpetual flow,
Stopped for a while, and sighed to answer, "No."

And thou, serenest moon,
That with such holy face
Dost look down upon the earth,

Asleep in night's embrace

Tell me, in all thy round,
Hast thou not seen some spot,
Where miserable man

Might find a happier lot?

Behind a cloud the moon withdrew in woe,
And a sweet voice, but sad, responded, "No!"

Tell me, my sacred soul;
Oh! tell me, hope and faith,
Is there no resting place
From sorrow, sin, and death?
Is there no happy spot,
Where mortals may be blessed,
Where grief may find a balm,

And weariness a rest?

Faith, Hope, and Love, best boons to mortals given, Waved their bright wings, and answered, "Yes, in Heaven

EXERCISE LXIV.

THE MIDNIGHT MAIL.

'TIS midnight,-all is peace profound'
But lo! upon the murmuring ground,
The lonely, swelling, hurrying sound
Of distant wheels is heard!

They come, they pause a moment, -- when,
Their charge resigned, they start, and then
Are gone, and all is hushed again,

As not a leaf had stirred.

Hast thou a parent far away,
A beauteous child, to be thy stay
In life's decline, or sisters, they

Who shared thine infant glee?
A brother on a foreign shore,
Whose breast thy choen token bore?
Or are thy treasures wandering o'er
A wide, tumultuous sea?

If aught like these, then thou must feel
The rattling of that reckless wheel,
That brings the bright or boding seal,
On every trembling thread

That strings thy heart, till morn appears
To crown thy hopes, or end thy fears,
To light thy smile, or draw thy tears,
As line on line is read.

Perhaps thy treasure 's in the deep,
Thy lover in a dreamless sleep,
Thy brother where thou canst not weep
Upon his distant grave!

Thy parent's hoary head no more
May shed a silver lustre o'er

His children grouped, nor death restore
Thy son from out the waves!

Thy prattler's tongue, perhaps, is stilled,
Thy sister's lip is pale and chilled,
Thy blooming bride perchance has filled
Her corner of the tomb.

May be, the home where all thy sweet
And tender recollections meet,
Has shown its flaming winding-sheet
In midnight's awful gloom!

And while, alternate o'er my soul
Those cold or burning wheels will rol.
Their chill or heat, beyond control,
Till morn shall bring relief,-
Father in heaven, whate'er may be
The cup which thou hast sent for me,
I know't is good, prepared by thee,
Though filled with joy or grief!

EXERCISE LXV.

THE STRANGER AND HIS FRIEND.

Nay:

A POOR wayfaring man of grief
Has often cross me on my way,
And sued so humbly for relief,
That I could never answer
I had not power to ask his name,
Whither he went, or whence he came,
Yet was there something in his eye,
That won my love, I knew not why.

Once, when my scanty meal was spread,
He entered; not a word he spake;
Just perishing for want of bread;

I gave him all; he blessed it, brake,
And ate, but gave me part again;
Mine was an angel's portion then,
For while I fed with eager haste,
That crust was manna to my taste.

I spied him where a fountain burst
Clear from the rock; his strength was gone
The heedless water mocked his thirst;

He heard it, saw it hurrying on;

I ran to raise the sufferer up;

Thrice from the stream he drained my cup,
Dipped, and returned it running o'er;

I drank, and never thirsted more.

'T was night; the floods were out; it blew A winter hurricane aloof;

I heard his voice abroad, and flew

To bid him welcome to my roof;

I warmed, I clothed, I cheered my guest,
Laid him on my couch to rest;

Then made the hearth my bed, and seemed
In Eden's garden while I dreamed.

Stript, wounded, beaten, nigh to death,
I found him by the highway side;
I roused his pulse, brought back his breath,
Revived his spirit, and supplied