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Thou tremblest to survey:

Then oh! for them, since such there be,
That brave with adverse destiny
The horrors of that foaming sea
That calls aloud for prey!

Can love of gold-can thirst of gain,
Repay thy dangers, fatal Main!

A moment's lull: the darkness clears;
And see yon gallant vessel nears,
And, wearing slowly, landward steers,
As land could shelter give:

Alas! in such a night of fears,

What bark can near, and live?
St. Mary! while thy pitying scan
Regards the ills of life,

Oh, deign to aid-for Mercy can-
The faltering powers of feeble man
In this unequal strife!

See, where the angry billows rave,
How gallantly she rides the wave,
Whose breaking sprays unceasing lave
Her pennon-crested mast!

While yon last broad and whitening sail
Spreads wide, or shifts to catch the gale;
As dauntless heart, tho' worn and pale,
That keeps its course, and scorns to quail
Beneath Destruction's blast.

Yet here in vain thy head-way tends;
No smiling haven here extends

Its welcome arm for thee:
Thy labouring course too quickly ends,
Thy toil is vain when Fate descends;
The breakers bar thy lee.

She strikes-she heels-the billows rave:
Oh God! and is there none to save?

That wild cry of despair!-too well
Upon my soul the accents swell:
O'er all that fierce turmoil how clear

Rings human anguish on the ear!

And that long' hideous scream that thrilled

Till e'en the tempest's voice seemed stilled..............

'Tis mute......yet now it springs again,

Resounding o'er the roaring main,

As though the merman mourned his caves
Contaminate by earthly graves,
Or water-fiends in frantic song
Yell'd their mad dirge the waves along;
So high o'er earth and air it rose,
So wide, so wild-life's current froze
Beneath that voice of wail and woes.

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But

yon slow heaving billow swarms
With spars and specks of struggling forms;
Lost or restored as Ocean's breast
Involves or leaves them on its crest:
Come then, and haste to meet the wave,
Perchance not all in vain to save.

Still they come near......on safety's brink
Almost; and striving but to sink........
Sink one by one, with gurgling cry,
And fruitless arms upraising high
That seek to grasp where nought is nigh.
And oft that dread, unearthly shriek

Comes drearier with the watery tone,

As though the depths of ocean speak

Its fearful tale in sounds unknown.

Whence that shrill, strange and harrowing moan,
Mortality can never own?

See-shoreward as the billows sweep—

Apart and few the strugglers come:

Their limbs unwonted vigour keep,
As, breasting still the giant deep,

They strive with snort and foam.
See one, their foremost, heads the course-
He's safe!-No, Heavens! 'tis but a horse!
Yet welcome, welcome, gallant steed-
Where thou hast sped, man must succeed.

They come indeed-a goodly train

Of coursers seek the strand;

Still breathed and panting from the main,
They struggle on to land.

But still the heart looks out in vain ;
For where are they who held the rein,
And ruled them with the hand ?
Man is not there!-Could none survive
The peril that left these alive?

Or sought they Scilly's treacherous coast,
On those unsparing breakers lost?
Comes none to speak of dangers past!

Yet there! the hindmost of the train,
Yon courser pants; the last, the last-
His rider clinging to his mane.
Faithful and true in utmost need,
God speed thy safety, noble steed!

He lives!.....Opprest with travail sore,
His wearied limbs can do no more,
His hand resigns its hold:

Aye, rest thee well-but not before

Friends, food, and wine thy strength restore......
He faints, he slumbers on the shore-

Life and its toils for ever o'er

And Death's cold arms unfold !]

But as his quivering members sank,
Ere yet the fainting spirit shrank-

One moment's respite brief: Fondly the faithful horse essayed His dying master's plight to aid; Turn'd to the hand so oft obeyed, Caressed, and gazed, and mournful neighed In sympathizing grief, As fain his weakness to upbraid

That could not yield relief.

And fixed, with low and plaintive cry,
His eye upon that failing eye,

As conscious of the parting nigh,
And sharing life's last agony.
And, as it passed, his spirits drank
That grateful glance with quivering flank,
Contorted nostril, limbs outspread,
And drooping crest and sinking head:
True to his Lord, in woe or pride,
He knelt him at his master's side,
Shiver'd, and turn'd, and silent died.
But from that lorn and faithful one
Afar the flying herd is gone:
And shake the surge's dripping dank,
From the free mane and panting flank,
Or roll upon the turf-or speed
With hoofs of joy along the mead-
Or turn the watery roar to hear,
With trembling limbs and eyes of fear;
Then bound from terror still too near.

The long fore leg and fleshy thigh,
Dark coat, low ears, and crupper high,

Broad back and strength of bone;
Their easy course, and light curvet,
Betray at once the famed Genette
Upon its haunches thrown.
Not such as trained to trumpet calls,
For war's array or martial halls,
Find pasture meet in lordly stalls
Of Xeres' gay domain:

But, happier far, employed to share
A gentler rule and softer care;

The spurless stripling's weight to bear,

Or prance beneath the burthen fair
Of Beauty's silken rein.

Well in your sinewy forms I trace
Sure token of that generous race
Renowned for smooth and showy grace,
That course with never-wearying pace
The Lusitanian plain;

That snuff Estremadura's gales,
Or sport in Andalusian dales,
Or dark Grenada's verdant vales,

The pride of stately Spain.

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For 'tis our boast, from age to age,
When sports or wars the steed engage,
Renown'd for speed, or martial rage,
Hath England held the van.
Proud of our stock, for race or toil,
Or fleet to win the sylvan spoil,
And bounded to their native soil
By Laws of Athelstan.

But well for gallant pageants set
Shall Spain rejoice in her Genette,
And such we find in legends hoar,
By hest of high Bellesme of yore,
Transported from Iberian shore
To stalls of Powisland.

Such, too, the wreck'd Armada's boast
Gave perishing to British coast

On Scotia's western strand:

And hence the name, as records say,
That mark the race of Galloway.

But seekest thou trace of those that fled,
When claim'd the seas their masters dead,
And Cornwall spread her arms to gain
The welcome victims from the main,
That brought improvement in their train,
As Cadmus cross'd o'er ocean old
The stores of learning to unfold ;
And wild Oannes, sea-borne, bore
The arts of life to Syrian shore.

Here pause awhile......Goonhilly's mead
Hath well preserved that gallant breed,
Cross'd with the stout Cornubian steed.
Such many a gentle lady loves-
Such many a yeoman stout approves,
When night is sped and stars grow pale,
And wisdom reels midst jugs of ale;

And corn and fruits with morn must come
To Merazion's market home.

GILBERT FORESTER.

September 20, 1832.

THE BRIG WATER WITCH-EARL BELFAST IN REPLY TO NEPTUNE.

SIR,

HA AVING read in your Magazine of this month a paper signed NEPTUNE, giving an account of my Brig the " Water Witch," I beg leave to set him right on some points with regard to her, that I feel confident he has unintentionally mis-stated.

her stern being upright, and, consequently, not so handsome as if it had more over-hung; but being built for a man-of-war, the intention (which has completely succeeded) was to enable her to run two guns out astern without a platform, which most vessels are obliged to have, and which

He is quite correct as regards
VOL. V.-SECOND SERIES.-No. 30.

3 R

is exceedingly inconvenient, inasmuch as it takes up a considerable portion of the quarter-deck.

As regards the quantity of canvas, he is quite wrong, her sails being the same size as a ten-gun brig; nor has she any advantage in being without fittings below, having all the bulk-heads up (with the exception of the one that ought to divide the Captain's cabin from the gun-room), which was omitted, to make a larger and more airy cabin for my friends.

Add to this, that she had her full weight of stores, &c. on board, as if provisioned for five months, with eight eighteen-pound carronades, and two long sixpounders, three boats, all spare spars, &c. on deck, and I am certain my friend NEPTUNE will own he has been mis-led.

I have only to add, that to this day she has beaten everything that has ever attempted to sail with her, both large and small;

SIR,

and although His Majesty's ship Vernon (two thousand two hundred tons) had the advantage in light breezes of her one day, by crossing to windward of her (after a trial of eight hours) about a cable's length, she having started half a cable's length to leeward of the Vernon, I understand she retaliated next day by beating the Vernon (under double reefed topsails and top-gallantsails and considerable head-sea) two or three miles. I can also state, she never took advantage of any of her opponents in starting; and that I should not have the least objection to change her eighteen pounders for four-andtwenty pounders, and sail any square-rigged vessel (now built) in England for whatever sum they please.

Yours obediently,

September 24, 1832.

THE DONCASTER MEETING.

I

ON my arrival on Saturday found this seat of speculation plentifully supplied with horses, most of them (excepting Julius, who appeared in a very ragged trim) looking in blooming and ripe condition, and many of them with very fascinating characters and forms. The bill of fare, however, was not of that delicious appearance as it was wont to be the Stakes, excepting the Champagne, Leger, and Twoyear-olds, being only moderately charged: and a deficiency of three which closed on the entranceday not having filled, tended to make its appearance worse,

The attendance of Sporting

BELFAST.

characters, though not so nume

rous as usual, was nevertheless pretty considerable; yet the town presented a calm and placid appearance quite unusual in the race weeks, from the absence of that numerous class of the middling orders of interested individuals, who usually flocked in to the town in hundreds, either to gratify their taste for the sport, to advocate their fancy with the needful, or treat themselves with an extra holiday and day's pleasure. This falling off was in a great measure to be attributed to the wild enthusiasm of the Saints resident in Doncaster, who fanatically wielded with tremendous

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