And at last their prayers were answered: It was in the month of June, An hour before the sunset Of a windy afternoon, ¿ZT30I WIOXID UHT TO ZIBAW T When, steadily steering landward, A ship was seen below, And they knew it was Lamberton, Master, for Who sailed so long ago o diquonít b A On she came, with a cloud of canvas, one uputng for alt bourge Right against the wind that blew,candy ti Until the eye could distinguish out buck The faces of the crew.rwort oft modt. SmA Then fell her straining topmasts, Hanging tangled in the shrouds, oib? And her sails were loosened and lifted, .197 And blown away like clouds. And the masts, with all their rigging, Fell slowly, one by one, tofi ba, rally? eith As a sea-mist in the sun! not And the people who saw this marvel Each said unto his friend, J And the pastor of the village " T Gave thanks to God in prayer, A That, to quiet their troubled spirits, He had sent this Ship of Air. THE WARDEN OF THE CINQUE PORTS. A MIST was driving down the British Channel, And through the window-panes, on floor and panel, It glanced on flowing flag and rippling pennon, And, from the frowning rampart, the black cannon Sandwich and Romney, Hastings, Hithe, and Dover To see the French war-steamers speeding over, Sullen and silent, and like couchant lions, Their cannon, through the night, Holding their breath, had watched, in grim defiance, The sea-coast opposite. And now they roared at drum-beat from their stations Each answering each, with morning salutations, And down the coast, all taking up the burden, As if to summon from his sleep the Warden And Lord of the Cinque Ports. Him shall no sunshine from the fields of azure, No drum-beat from the wall, No morning gun from the black fort's embrasure, Awaken with its call! 1 No more, surveying with an eye impartial Shall the gaunt figure of the old Field Marshal For in the night, unseen, a single warrior, Dreaded of man, and surnamed the Destroyer, He passed into the chamber of the sleeper, And as he entered, darker grew, and deeper, He did not pause to parley or dissemble, Ah! what a blow! that made all England tremble Meanwhile, without, the surly cannon waited, Nothing in Nature's aspect intimated HAUNTED HOUSES. ALL houses wherein men have lived and died Are haunted houses. Through the open doors The harmless phantoms on their errands glide With feet that make no sound upon the floors. We meet them at the door-way, on the stair, A sense of something moving to and fro. There are more guests at table, than the hosts Is thronged with quiet, inoffensive ghosts, The stranger at my fireside cannot see The forms I see, nor hear the sounds I hear; He but perceives what is; while unto me All that has been is visible and clear. We have no title-deeds to house or lands; The spirit-world around this world of sense Our little lives are kept in equipoise These perturbations, this perpetual jar, Of earthly wants and aspirations high,; Come from the influence of an unseen star,^ An undiscovered planet in our sky... And as the moon from some dark gate of cloud Throws o'er the sea a floating bridge of light, Across whose trembling planks our fancies crowd Into the realm of mystery and night,—‚' So from the world of spirits there descends IN THE CHURCHYARD AT CAMBRIDGE. IN the village churchyard she lies, Dust is in her beautiful eyes, No more she breathes, nor feels, nor stirs; At her feet and at her head Lies a slave to attend the dead, But their dust is white as hers. Was she a lady of high degree, And foolish pomp of this world of ours |