MARINER'S HYMN. LAUNCH thy bark, mariner! Christian, God speed thee! Let loose the rudder-bands Good angels lead thee! Set thy sails warily, Tempests will come; Steer thy course steadily; Christian, steer home! Look to the weather-bow, Breakers are round thee; Let fall the plummet now, Shallows may ground thee. Reef in the foresail, there! Hold the helm fast! So let the vessel wearThere swept the blast. JOSEPH BLANCO WHITE. 1775-1841. [BORN at Seville, Spain, July 11, 1775; of an Irish Catholic family; ordained a priest, 1799; came to England in 1810; left the Catholic Church, and became a tutor in the family of Lord Holland; resided in London as a man of letters, contributing to leading reviews and periodicals, and producing several works in Spanish and English. Among his works were, Letters from Spain, 1822; Practical and Internal Evidence Against Catholicism, 1825; Second Travels of an Irish Gentleman in Search of a Religion, 1833. Died at Liverpool, May 20, 1841. His Sonnet to Night was called by Coleridge the finest in the language.] NIGHT AND DEATH. MYSTERIOUS Night! when our first parent knew Thee from report divine, and heard thy name, Did he not tremble for this lovely frame, This glorious canopy of light and blue? And lo! creation widened in man's view. Who could have thought such darkness lay concealed Within thy beams, O sun! or who could find, Whilst fly, and leaf, and insect stood revealed, That to such countless orbs thou mad'st us blind! Yet 'neath a curtain of translucent dew, Why do we then shun Death with Bathed in the rays of the great set ting flame, Hesperus with the host of heaven came, anxious strife? If light can thus deceive, wherefore not life? CHARLES LAMB. 1775-1834. [BORN in the Temple, London, February 10, 1775; was educated at Christ's Hospital, with Coleridge for a school-fellow; became clerk in the India House, 1792; retired on a pension, 1825; died December 27, 1834. His poetry is as follows:- Poems by S. T. Coleridge, second Edition, to which are now added poems by Charles Lamb and Charles Lloyd, 1797. Blank Verse, by Charles Lloyd and Charles Lamb, 1798. Poetry for Children, entirely original; by the Author of Mrs. Leicester's School, 1809. Poems in The Works of Charles Lamb, 1818. Album Verses, with a few others, by Charles Lamb, 1830.] THE OLD FAMILIAR FACES. I HAVE had playmates, I have had companions, How some they have died, and some they have left me, And some are taken from me; all are departed; In my days of childhood, in my joyful All, all are gone, the old familiar faces. THE GRANDAME. ON the green hill top, Hard by the house of prayer, a modest roof, And not distinguished from its neighbor-barn, Save by a slender-tapering length of spire, The Grandame sleeps. A plain stone barely tells The name and date to the chance passenger. For lowly born was she, and long had eat, Well-earned, the bread of service: - A mounting spirit, one that entertained And how the prattling tongue of garru- Delighted to recount the oft-told tale course Of births, of titles, and alliances; WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR. [WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR was born at Warwick, Jan. 30, 1775; died at Florence, Dec. 17, 1864. He resided in Italy almost continuously from 1815 to 1835, and afterwards twenty-one years in Bath. His writings, the dates of which range from 1795 to almost the year of his death, were first collected by himself in two large volumes (1846), and afterwards (1876), with his Life, by Mr. John Forster, in eight vols. 8vo.] The generous horse and not the warlike man. But neither soldier now nor steed avails: Nor steed nor soldier can oppose the Gods: Nor is there aught above like Jove himself, Nor weighs against his purpose, when once fixt, Aught but, with supplicating knee, the Prayers. Swifter than light are they, and every face, Tho' different, glows with beauty; at the throne Of mercy, when clouds shut it from mankind, They fall bare-bosom'd, and indignant Jove Drops at the soothing sweetness of their voice The thunder from his hand let us arise On these high places daily, beat our breast, Prostrate ourselves and deprecate his wrath. TAMAR AND THE NYMPH. "OH seek not destin'd evils to divine, Found out at last too soon! cease here the search, 'Tis vain, 'tis impious, 'tis no gift of mine; I will impart far better, will impart What makes, when Winter comes, the Sun to rest So soon on Ocean's bed his paler brow, And Night to tarry so at Spring's return. And I will tell sometimes the fate of men Who loos'd from drooping neck the restless arm Adventurous, ere long nights had satisfied The sweet and honest avarice of love; How whirlpools have absorb'd them, storms o'erwhelm'd, And how amid their struggles and their prayers More stately? most the simple crown adorns Of rushes and of willows intertwined With here and there a flower: his lofty brow Shaded with vines and mistletoe and oak He rears, and mystic bards his fame resound. Or gliding opposite, th' Illyrian gulf Will harbor us from ill." While thus she spake, She toucht his eyelashes with libant lip, And breath'd ambrosial odors, o'er his cheek Celestial warmth suffusing: grief dispersed, And strength and pleasure beam'd upon his brow. Then pointed she before him: first arose love. It stood so near him, so acute each sense, That not the symphony of lutes alone Or coo serene or billing strife of doves. But murmurs, whispers, nay the very sighs Which he himself had utter'd once, he heard. Next, but long after and far off, appear The cloudlike cliffs and thousand towers of Crete, |