Song [pp. 328-329]

328 Song. [APRIL,~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
when wandering through this silent grave, will
find
"Yet ev'n these bones from insult to protect,
' Some frail memorial still erected nigh,
"With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck'd
" Implores the passing tribute of a sigh."
Situated in full view of the village, it would seem
as if this spot had been selected in order that the
spirits of the mouldering dead might still look back
from their silent resting-place, upon the curling
smoke which lazily floats over their once cheerful
and happy hearths-and, as if the living, from a
constant view of "that bourne from whence no
traveller returns," would learn the vanity of worldly hopes and aspirations. But I forget. Whilst attempting to describe the beauties of my native
land, I wander insensibly back to hours of happiness spent in roving amid those scenes; and again
mingle with the buoyant companions whose merry
laugh once rung with my own over those hills,
where now, I take my solitary evening stroll; and,
as I contemplate any dear object of my childish
reminiscences,
"Still o'er those scenes my memory wakes."
To this must my deviation from my subject be attributed. To return to the little sloop and her destination, will perhaps be more agreeable than wandering over the rugged hills which surround her.
Whilst her crew were making ready to set sailthe party intending to sail in her, consisting of four
wild and reckless young men, dressed in the tip of
the fashion, might be seen in the bar-room of the
village hotel, drinking very freely, and casting their
jibes upon all around, with all that good humor
which " whiskey, gill or penny wheep, or any strong
potation" inspires. The eldest of the company
could not have been more than two and twenty-of
fine athletic proportions, regular and rather handsome features-and a laugh whose merry peals
gave additional zest to his quick and sparkling raillery. As no names will be mentioned, let it suffice
to say, the others were equally as agreaeble in exterior, as well as social qualities-of the first respectability, and of winning manners; their society
was always hailed with delight, either upon those
festal occasions, when decorum loses half her dignity, and maudlin madness seizes upon the throne
of abdicated reason; or in the crowded mazes of
the ball-room, where courtesy restrains the fiery
blood, and leads the chastened mind to the footstool
of beauty. Upon the present occasion, they had
given rein to the wild impulses of "Semeleia
proles;" and, long before the hour of departure had
arrived, were chanting Bacchanalian songs-which
rarely occupy any but the last moments of a revel.
By this time it was in the stroke of trial. The brightness of a summer morning had given way to dense
masses of black clouds; and the soft wind of the
south, was changed to the low murmurings, which
are sometimes the precursors of a dreadful storm.
The oppressive heat of the pent air was almost insupportable. Despite the remonstrances of friends,
the reckless party went on board their frail barque,
with the most awful imprecations; defying the
storm, which lowered over them. Hoisting the anchor, and running up the sails, the sloop turned
slowly round, as if in dread of impending evil; and
moved sluggishly with the ebbing tide; while her
merry crew made the hills peal with their wild
huzzas. Another moment, the clouds gave way,
" And having swept the firmament
"Were now in fierce career for earth."
Peal on peal of distant thunder, came rolling down
the gorge, in which the ill-fated vessel glided slowl y along, er e the storm struck her flapping wings.
Bending beneath the first gust, she rose, and, like
the racer at the rolling of the drum, leaped off
upon her course, with bellying sail and foaming
prow. The awful rolling of heavens artillery, and
the lurid gleams of the Promethean flames, as they
lighted up the dark bay of clouds rolling over the
village, for a moment diverted the gaze of some
kind watchers of the barque, as she rushed madly
through the waters;-another, and the most awful
burst of thunder ever heard, shook the very hills
around. One piercing shriek, one look told all!
T h e vessel had been struck by lightning; her crew
lay scattered over her decks; her mast and sails
were trailing in the waters; and she, unguided,
driving before the fury of the storm, upon the beach
which lay around the village cemetery. Upon
boarding the sloop, the whole party, with but one
exception, were found stretched upon her decks,
blackened and disfigured by the subtle fluid:-and
that gay barque, which had left the hamlet a few
moments before, full of life and gaiety, returned a
dismantled wreck
,' A thing
O'er which the raven flaps his funereal wing."
Occoquan, Va. 1840.
SONG.
BY WILLIAM WALLACE.
Thy soft, blue eyes, my Mary dear, are beaming on my own,
Sweet as the star, whose brilliancy illume the midnight
throne;
And oh! thy voice falls musical as minstrel-winds, that
weave
Their low, deep tones of harmony, on Summer's rosy eve.
Oh! I have thought when hearing it, that angel-lips on high,
Responsive diapasons breathed from yonder azure sky;
So pure, so sweet those tones were heard, Life passed on as
a dream,
On rainbow-glories, floating down a mild and star-lit stream.
Art thou not mine? I know thou art! Thy lips have breath'd
the vow,
And like an angel-diadem, it resteth on my brow.
Song.
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