Vengeful he pours his fiery breath,
And every blast is big with death;
The light'ning fury of his eye

Darts through the darkness of the sky.

Danger, and her appalling train,

Rush forth; our heroes all disdain :
Bright shines their valour; Fear stalks by;
She turns and hides her haggard eye.

Hark! the victorious shout is risen;
It sweeps the bright'ning brow of heaven;
And proudly claims an angel's lay
To swell the triumphs of the day.

BALLAD.

A MOTHER AT THE GRAVE OF HER SON,

The crescent moon, with glimmering light,
Rode through a dusky sky;

And, rock'd by winds, the bird of night
Began its doleful cry.

When, lo! a hapless mother's sighs
Amidst the gloom were heard;
With throbbing heart, and tearful eyes,
She sought the lone church-yard.

Alone she trod the willow'd shade,
Where skulls and coffins lay;

And midnight ghosts to haunt were said

The unfrequented way.

Screen'd, as she thought, from human view,

She sigh❜d without restraint;

And, shelter'd beneath a shade of

Pour'd forth her sad complaint.

yew,

Fast did the tide of sorrow run,

Which drown'd her weeping eyes: "Alas!" she cried, "my dearest son Hears not his mother's sighs.

"Thou tyrant, Death, thy venom'd dart
Hath made my woes complete:
For, oh! this dreadful stroke my heart
Was unprepared to meet.

"Deluded thus by Hope was I

That health his days would crown: Why were my prospects raised so high, For Death to cut them down?

"But still this thought shall cheer my heart, While Faith points to the skies;

Where Death no more shall hurl his dart, To wound Affection's ties."

THE SAILOR'S FUNERAL.

Rais'd on the deck, bereft of life,
Where he had toil'd 'mid storm and strife,
The sailor lies, in hammock bound,
While his brave shipmates gather round.

One says,

"No crew e'er parted

With an old mate more honest hearted; For well did he his part perform — How stout was he amidst the storm!"

A second cries, "And many a scar

Poor Jack receiv'd at Trafalgar :

Sure on the main there cannot be

A better seaman than was he."

They now commit him to the deep,
Where Neptune's heroes safely sleep;
For whirlwind's rage nor war's dread roar
His noble zeal will waken more.

The prayers are said, the generous crew In sorrow take their last adieu;

With feelings that become the brave They watch awhile his unmarked grave.

So when the tear which friendship calls
Is shed, and dried fast as it falls,
Each sailor drinks, the scene to close,
His widow's health, his soul's repose.