Appall'd upon its gulf;

;-then backwards shrunk

Convulsively to life, and hope renew'd

Unfroze his blood, and o'er his features threw
A light that could not last. For evening came,
And the great sun descended to the main,
While oft the beautiful, beloved orb

The seaman watch'd, and sigh'd to see it sink
Beneath the wave; but as the twilight grew
Deeper and deeper, and the darkness clos'd
Upon him, and the hungry, howling surge
Was heard below, loud clamouring for its prey,
He wept-the lone man wept!

Again it came,

The unchang'd, unchanging morning, rising wild Upon a joyless world; yet did his eye

Glisten to see the dawn, though it awoke

In tempest; and that day flew by, and night
Once more fell on him, and another morn

Broke, and the sufferer liv'd! The hand of death
Was on him, yet delay'd the fatal grasp;
And round the agonized victim look'd,

But succour came not! On the rugged rock
Crash'd the torn wreck in thunder, and the sea
Disgorg'd the dead-within the black recoil

Of waters dash'd the dead; and on the brave,
The lov'd, he gaz'd, and at his side Despair
Now sat, and pointed to the abyss!

A shout

Comes from the cliffs-a shout of joy! Awake,
Thou lonely one from death's fast-coming sleep!—
Arise, the strand is thronging with brave men-
A thousand eyes are on thee, and a bark
Bursts o'er the breaching foam! The shifting cloud
Flies westward, and away the storm, repell'd
Reluctant sails: the winds have backward flung
The billows of the Atlantic! See, they come,-
They come a dauntless island-band-and now
A cheer is heard-and hark the dash of oars
Among the reefs! His eye with instant hope
Brightens, and all the ebbing tides of life
Rush with returning vigour! Now the spray
Flies o'er the advancing pinnace, for the wave
Though half subdued is mighty; yet her prow
Victorious parts the surges,-nearer roll

The cheers of that bold crew-the welcome sounds
Thrill on his ear- the deep'ning plunge of oars
Foams round the desert rock-'tis won! 'tis won!
And he is sav'd!

H

IMITATION FROM THE PERSIAN.

By Dr. Southey.

LORD! who art merciful as well as just,
Incline thine ear to me, a child of dust!
Not what I would, O Lord! I offer thee,
Alas! but what I can.

Father Almighty, who hast made me man,
And bade me look to Heaven, for thou art there,
Accept my sacrifice and humble prayer.
Four things which are not in thy treasury,

I lay before thee, Lord, with this petition:-
My nothingness, my wants,

My sins, and my contrition!

THE NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY

ASTOR, LENOX AND TILDEN FOUNDATIONS.