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8. He springs from his hammock, || he flies` to the deck; Amazement confronts him || with images dire; Wild winds and mad waves || drive the ve sel a wreck, The masts fly in splinters, || the shrouds are on fire! 9. Like mountains the billows || tumultuously swell, In vain the lost wretch' || calls on mercy to save; Unseen hands of spirits || are ringing his knell, And the death-angel flaps || his broad wings o'er the wave. 10. Oh, Sailor-boy'! || woe to thy dream of delight!
In darkness || dissolves the gay frost-work of bliss; Where now is the picture | that Fancy touched bright; Thy parents' fond pressure, || and love's honeyed kiss? 11. Oh, Sailor-boy'! Sailor-boy'! || never again
Shall home, love, or kindred, || thy wishes repay;
13. On beds of green sea-flower || thy limbs shall be laid,
14. Days', months", years', and ages, || shall circle away,
Oh, Sailor-boy! Sailor-boy'! | peace to thy soul.
1. WHERE is she, the poor maniac, whose wildly-fixed eyes
She weeps not', yet often and deeply she sighs;
2. No aid', no compassion', the maniac will seek;
Through the rags do the winds of the winter blow bleak
3. Yet cheerful and happy`, nor distant the day,
The traveler remembers, who journeyed this way,
As Mary, the Maid of the Inn.
4. Her cheerful' address filled the guests with delight, As she welcomed them in with a smile;
Her heart was a stranger to childish affright,
When the wind whistled down the dark aisle.
5. She loved; and young Richard had settled the day`, And she hoped to be happy for life:
But Richard was idle and worthless; and they
6. 'Twas in autumn, and stormy and dark was the night,
7. ""Tis pleasant," cried one, "seated by the fireside,
"A fine night for the Abbey`!” his comrade replied:
8. "I myself, like a school-boy, should tremble to hear
9. "I'll wager a dinner," the other one cried,
"That Mary' would venture there now`:"
10. "Will Mary this charge on her courage allow?"
11. With fearless good-humor did Mary comply`,
The night it was gloomy, the wind it was high;
12. O'er the path so well known, still proceeded the maid, Where the Abbey rose dim on the sight;
Through the gateway, she entered, she felt not afraid;
Yet the ruins were lonely and wild, and their shade
13. All around her was silent, save when the rude blast
Over weed-covered fragments still fearless she passed,
Where the alder-tree grew in the aisle.
14. Well pleased did she reach it, and quickly drew near,
When the sound of a voice seemed to rise on her ear;
15. The wind blew, the hoarse ivy shook over her head`:
The wind ceased', her heart sunk in her bosom with dread,
16. Behind a wide column, half breathless with fear,
That instant, the moon o'er a dark cloud shone clear,
17. Then Mary could feel her heart-blood curdle cold!
It blew off the hat of the one, and behold,
18. "Stop! the hat!" he exclaims; "Nay, come on, and fast hide
19. She ran with wild speed`, she rushed in at the door`,
Her limbs could support their faint burden no more;
20. Ere yet her pale lips could her story impart,
Her eyes from that object convulsively start,
For, O Heaven! what cold horror thrilled through her heart,
21. Where the old Abbey stands, on the common hard by',
Not far from the inn, it engages the eye`;
The traveler beholds it, and thinks with a sigh',
Of poor Mary, the Maid of the Inn.
LESSON XXXIII. 3 3
MIDNIGHT MASS FOR THE DYING YEAR.
1. YES, the year is growing old,
And his eye is pale and bleared;
2. The leaves are falling, falling',
Caw! caw! the rooks are calling,
3. Through woods and mountain-passes
4. The hooded clouds, like friars,
Tell their beads in drops of rain,
5. There he stands, in the foul weather,
A king,—a king`!
6. Then comes the summer-like day,
His joy! his last`! O, the old man gray
Gentle and low`.
7. To the crimson woods he saith,
Of the soft air, like a daughter's breath,
Do not laugh at me!
8. And now, the sweet day is dead;
No stain from its breath is spread
No mist or stain!
9. Then, too, the Old Year dieth,
And the forests utter a moan,
Vex not his ghost!
10. Then comes, with an awful roar,
11. Howl! howl! and from the forest
12. For there shall come a mightier blast,
And the stars from heaven downcast,
1. SOLDIER', rest! || thy warfare o'er',
Sleep the sleep || that knows not breaking; Dream of battle-fields || no more,
Days of danger', nights of waking,
In our isle's enchanted hall,
Hands unseen | thy couch are strewing,
Fairy strains of music || fall,
Every sense in slumber dewing.
Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking;
Morn of toil', || nor night of waking`.
2. No rude sound shall reach thine ear",
Here's no war-steed's neigh and champing,
* These words mean, "Lord, have mercy! Christ, have mercy!"