Your wife dejected sea-ward looks and sues,
And you relentless can her tears abuse.

Come, master, heave ahead! or I will roam

The deep without you, and bear tidings home 3065 That you from out the ship can not be got,

While in the locker there remains a shot.

Then farewell, shipmates! Thus the needle steers
To his lov'd star. My bosom has its fears
Lest Amphitrite with grief I overwhelm.

Master, hold on! mind, mind your weather-helm!

LXVII.

At length the full-gorg'd monarch of the main,
Reel'd to his car, and dizzy seiz'd the rein;
The scourge he raises, but with swimming eyes,
His head hangs heavy as o'er sea he flies,
Till from his seat he falls with shock profound,
And in his dire descent, the billows dance around.
Full swift the Nereids, by affection sway'd,

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Rise from the deep, and minister their aid;
Sooth the affrighted steeds, and in a ring
With hair dishevell'd mourn their prostrate king.
Cymodoce, whose voice excell'd the rest,
Above the waves advanc'd her snowy breast,
And as the ocean-monarch groaning lay,

Thus pour'd the boding accents of dismay : 3085

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What ails our sire! whence, bending down his head,
Wears he the semblance of a mortal dead?
Speak! has some rebel monster of the main
In combat sought to wrest from thee thy reign,
To snatch from thee thy trident, whose stern sway
From pole to pole the raging waves obey.
Her hand the prostrate monarch kindly press'd,
While tears reliev'd the anguish of his breast:
Nymph, to yon ship my fate alone I owe,
With liquor laden-source of all my woe→→→
Her with the lofty sails, and warrior head,
With tompions out, and boarding-nettings spread-
In her was Neptune play'd a yankey trick,*
Whose guilty chief shall rue it to the quick.
Glaucus, when Amphitrite unyokes my car 3100
That whirls her Neptune o'er the deeps afar,
Seek thou the god of storms, supreme o'er wind,
And bid him from their caves the blasts unbind,
Himself the wirlwind ride, op pinions dark,
And keel-up turn the treasonable bark.

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The first Yankey trick on record is alluded to by Butler, in his facetious poem of Hudibras. Soon after the arrival of the first settlers in New England, a white man having killed an Indian, the whole tribe assembled and demanded the death of the criminal. But he being in the heyday of youth and strength, and consequently valuable to a rising state; the Colonists hanged instead of him, an old, superannuated personage, whom years and infirmities had reduced to crutches. The Indians, on detecting the ruse practised on them, called it a "Yankey Trick."

gave

Then thus the groom: (as to his mouth he
The fragrant roll, his solace on the wave)—
At your own door the sin and scandal lie-
You coveted the drop that dims your eye:—
The fault is your's-so wait till time and rest, 3110
And penance due to folly calm your breast.

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Is this the first time-by some fifty score-
That you've been groggy-more than half sea's o'er?
On board the tall three-decker could you stand,
When the old Admiral order'd aft his band
To soothe you with the poor, exploded strain,
That Britons only conquer on the main.
Their ships, 'tis true, could cheerly sway away
On ev'ry top-rope, and inspire dismay
With the red-cross, when only for their foes
The sea gave Dons and Monsieurs to oppose.
But now when Yankey frigates heave in sight,
They pipe to prayers, before they tempt the fight,
And when they strike their flag, attest the skies
They fought a stout two-decker in disguise!*

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* The Quarterly Reviewers indulge only broad grins at the American Navy, but these grins, if persisted in by their successors, may, in the long run, become sardonic. A fleet composed of 12 American 74s, each ship vieing in tonnage with an English hundred gun ship, and manned with fully as numerous a crew, that is 1000 men, would in a line of battle be an object of derision only to fools or madmen. Twelve thousand prime yankey seamen fighting a proportionate number of cannon, and firing them more like riflemen than

M

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Theu the king thus: I see how sits the wind !
Bribes, bribes have made you to their treason blind.
What's in that keg beneath your finny feet?
A present from the crew-and passing sweet!
'Twill suit the nice tooth of my nereid-wife-
She never tasted such in all her life:
Long Sweetening is its just and proper name,
But by Molasses better known to fame.
Then Neptune pensive :-aid me in the car-
My stomach and the liquor are at war→
Oh! for a gentle air to fan the seas!
Whistle, good Glaucus, and invoke the breeze.

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artillerists, would peradventure make such men as the Quarterly Reviewers stop their ears at every broadside. It must likewise be taken into the account that British blood circulates in Jonathan's veins-that the great grandfathers of the aforesaid crews drew their first breath either in England or Wales, in Scotland or Ireland that they feed on beef and drink porter-and that they talk and, unfortunately, swear in English. The Quarterly Reviewers, by their misrepresen tations relative to America, and deceptions practised on their readers, have done more real injury to the common weal of England, than all the offenders, that, since the establishment of their Literary Inquisition, have been freighted off to Australasia. They may indulge their laughter, but they cannot alter the fact, that in the event of a future war with America, England would find the United States' Navy a respectable force. It would not be policy to send her channel fleet across the Atlantic, and she might require a fleet in the Mediterranean, or in the Baltic. She could attack the United States only by detachment; and a smaller armament than that she could detach would be rendered equal or superior on the part of the Americans by the celerity with which they could recover any check, whilst the dis asters of their enemy might be irretrievable.

I see a cat's paw* yonder in the west,

The rising gale will cool your fever'd breast.
Here, on my shoulder, rest your weight of woes,
And while I guide the chariot find repose.
Subdue your anger, master, and disdain
To act the furious tyrant of the main;

The haughtiest hearts at length their rage resign,
And I believ'd that gifts had conquer'd thine. 3145
The arch groom ceas'd, and with his glittering thong
O'er the hush'd billow lash'd the steeds along;
Beside him Neptune doz'd-behind the train
Of Nereids clung, as the car roll'd amain,
And their fair faces often turned aside,
To stop the titt'ring laugh, the blush to hide.

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Meantime our full throng'd yards display a host
Of pendant tars-their country's prime and boast;
And as refulgent to the view off-roll'd

The car-borne god, on flaming wheels of gold, 3155
Their cheering shouts resound. With buxom breast,
(Eas'd of the load his festive soul deprest)
Uprose the monarch from his pearly car
To take a last look of the man of war,

A cat's paw is a partial heaving of the sea's surface in a calm-the germ of the breeze. How often on the ocean have I heard the master of a ship, looking anxiously over the counter, exclaim, after an enduring calm, "Yonder is a cat's paw, at last!"