Or bathe in brighter quietude

A roamer of the deep.

So far the peaceful soul of Heaven
Hath settled on the sea,

It seems as if this weight of calm

Were from eternity.

O world of waters! the steadfast earth
Ne'er lay entranced like thee!

Is she a vision wild and bright
That sails amid the still moon-light
At the dreaming soul's command?
A vessel borne by magic gales,
All rigged with gossamery sails,
And bound for fairy land?

Ah no!-an earthly freight she bears,
Of joys and sorrows, hopes and fears;

And lonely as she seems to be,

Thus left by herself on a moonlight sea, In loneliness that rolls,

She hath a constant company,

In sleep or waking revelry,
Five hundred human souls!

Since first she sailed from fair England,
Three moons her path have cheered;
And another lights her lovelier lamp
Since the Cape hath disappeared.
For an Indian isle she shapes her way:
With constant mind both night and day
She seems to hold her home in view,

And sails as if the path she knew ;
So calm and stately is her motion
Across the unfathomed trackless ocean.

And well, glad vessel! mayst thou stem The tide with lofty breast,

And lift thy queen-like diadem

O'er these thy realms of rest:

For a thousand beings, now far away,
Behold thee in their sleep,

And hush their beating hearts to pray
That a calm may clothe the deep.
When dimly descending behind the sea
From the Mountain Isle of Liberty,

Oh! many a sigh pursued thy vanish'd sail :
And oft an eager crowd will stand,
With straining gaze on the Indian strand,

Thy wonted gleam to hail.

For thou art laden with beauty and youth,
With honour bold and spotless truth;

With fathers who have left in a home of rest

Their infants smiling at the breast;

With children who have bade their parents farewell,

Or who go to the land where their parents dwell. God speed thy course, thou gleam of delight! From rock and tempest clear;

Till signal gun from friendly height

Proclaim, with thundering cheer,

To joyful groups on the harbour bright,

That the good ship HOPE is near !

THE SHIP'S RETURN.

BY JOHN WILSON.

THE pier-head with a restless crowd
Seems all alive; there, voices loud
Oft raise the thund'rous cheer,
While, from on board the ship of war,
The music bands both near and far
Are playing faint or clear.

The bells ring quick a joyous peal,

Till the very spires appear to feel

The joy that stirs throughout their tapering height.
Ten thousand flags and pendants fly

Abroad, like meteors in the sky,
So beautiful and bright.

And, while the storm of pleasure raves
Through each tnmultuous street,
Still strikes the ear one darling tune,
Sung hoarse, or warbled sweet;'
Well doth it suit the first of June,
"Britannia rules the waves!"

What ship is she that rises slow Above the horizon-white as snow, And covered as she sails

By the bright sunshine, fondly wooed

In her calm beauty, and pursued
By all the Ocean gales?

Well doth she know this glorious morn,-
And by her subject waves is borne,

As in triumphal pride:

And now the gazing crowd descry,
Distinctly floating on the sky,

Her pendants long and wide.

The outward forts she now hath passed;
Loftier and loftier towers her mast;
You almost hear the sound

Of the billows rushing past her sides,
As giant-like she calmly glides
Through the dwindled ships around.
Saluting thunders rend the Main !
Short silence—and they roar again,
And veil her in a cloud:

Then up leap all her fearless crew,
And cheer till shore, and city too,
With echoes answer loud.

In peace and friendship doth she come,
Rejoicing to approach her home,

After absence long and far:

Yet with like calmness would she go
Exulting to behold the foe,

And break the line of war.

REASONS FOR MIRTH.

BY MISS MITFORD.

THE sun is careering in glory and might
Mid the deep blue sky and the cloudless white;
The bright wave is tossing its foam on high,
And the summer breezes go lightly by ;
The air and the water dance, glitter, and play —
And why should not I be as merry as they?

The linnet is singing the wild wood through; The fawn's bounding footstep skims over the dew; The butterfly flits round the flower_tree ;

And the cowslip and blue-bell are bent by the bee; All the creatures that dwell in the forest are gay And why should not I be as merry as they?