The Sailor Boy's Grave.

Before the next year's roses came,

That gentle call was given,

And the mother, and her two sweet babes,
Were all of them in heaven.

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THE SAILOR BOY'S GRAVE.

HEN I was here, three years ago,

This grave was not yet made;

And the fearless boy who sleeps below,

About the village played.

I think his mother loved him best

Of all her orphan crew;

And while she worked for all the rest,
She thought, poor Jack! of you.

He was a boy of lively parts,

And full of frolic glee;

And merry were the children's hearts
When Jack came home from sea.
But Heaven reclaimed the gifts it lent,
And tried his soul with pains;
The dread command on earth was sent,
And fever scorched his veins.

His sun-burnt cheek grew wan and pale,
His bright black eye grew dim
He grew too weak his boat to sail
Down by the river's brim;
And first, impatiently, he said :-
"I wish the wind blew free
Upon my face and round my bed--
Oh, that I were at sea!"

But soon he felt that never more,

(Though she was not a wreck)

That white-sailed ship should leave the shore, And he be on her deck.

He took his mother's hand in his,

And heaved a bitter sigh: 'Mother," said he, "I feel it is

God's will that I should die!

Remember me to all I loved,

And those were all I knew;

For all to me have kindness proved,
. The captain and the crew.

Tell them, that faint, and weak, and ill,
And sinking in the grave,

I thought upon my messmates still,
My brothers of the wave!

And when I'm in the green earth's breast,

Let Henry go to sea,

Because he's stronger than the rest,

And of a spirit free.

That God who stills the roaring wind,

Charge over him shall take;

And the old boatswain will be kind

To Henry, for my sake.

And oh dear mother, when you cry (For grieve I know you will) Remember there's a God on high

Who sees and pities still;

And murmur to yourself the word

You taught us long ago,

That still by Him the wail is heard,

Which none will heed below."

Napoleon and the Sailor.

Wild storms had met that vessel's track,
And broke the sea in foam;

Loud winds had roared around, yet Jack

Had sailed in safety home.

But now he called, who was his stay

Upon that boisterous tide, And in his bed one sunny day,

The little sailor died!

Long, long beside the cottage hearth,
They missed him from his place;
His loud, light laugh, his voice of mirth,
His happy, eager face!

They played no cricket on the green,

No game of bat and ball;

For he was gone who once had been

The spirit of them all.

But round his grave each Sabbath day,

Silently, hand in hand,

s-how gay)

(Thinking how kind he was

His once-loved playmates stand.

O little children of a race,

To whom short time is given,

So part on earth that, face to face,
Ye all may meet in heaven!

129

APOLEON'S banners at Boulogne

Armed in our island every freeman, His navy chanced to capture one Poor British seaman.

They suffered him-I know not how-
Unprisoned on the shore to roam;
And aye was bent his longing brow
On England's home.

His eye, methinks, pursued the flight
Of birds to Britain half-way over;
With envy they could reach the white
Dear cliffs of Dover.

A stormy midnight watch, he thought,

Than this sojourn would have been dearer, If but the storm his vessel brought

To England nearer.

At last, when care had banished sleep,

He saw one morning-dreaming-doating,

An empty hogshead from the deep
Come shoreward floating;

He hid it in a cave, and wrought

The livelong day laborious; lurking Until he launched a tiny boat

By mighty working.

Heaven help us! 'twas a thing beyond

Description wretched: such a wherry

Perhaps ne'er ventured on a pond,

Or crossed a ferry.

For ploughing in the salt sea-field,

It would have made the boldest shudder;

Untarred, uncompassed, and unkeeled,

No sail-no rudder.

Napoleon and the Sailor.

From neighbouring woods he interlaced
His sorry skiff with wattled willows;
And thus equipped he would have passed
The foaming billows-

But Frenchmen caught him on the beach,
His little Argo sorely jeering;

Till tidings of him chanced to reach
Napoleon's hearing.

With folded arms Napoleon stood,
Serene alike in peace and danger;
And in his wonted attitude,

Addressed the stranger :

"Rash man, that wouldst yon channel pass
On twigs and staves so rudely fashioned;
Thy heart with some sweet British lass
Must be impassioned."

"I have no sweetheart," said the lad;

"But-absent long from one another

Great was the longing that I had
To see my mother."

"And so thou shalt," Napoleon said, "Ye've both my favour fairly won;

A noble mother must have bred

He

So brave a son."

gave the tar a piece of gold,

And with a flag of truce commanded He should be shipped to England Old, And safely landed.

131