THE INCHCAPE ROCK.

So thick a haze o'erspreads the sky
They cannot see the sun on high ;
The wind hath blown a gale all day,
At evening it hath died away.

On the deck the Rover takes his stand,
So dark it is they see no land;

Quoth Sir Ralph, "It will be lighter soon,
For there is the dawn of the rising Moon."

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"Canst hear," said one, "the breakers roar? For, methinks, we should be near the shore." "Now where we are I cannot tell,

But I wish we could hear the Inchcape Bell."

They hear no sound, the swell is strong; Though the wind hath fallen they drift along; Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock, "Oh, horror! it is the Inchcape Rock!"

Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair,
He curst himself in his despair;
The waves rush in on every side,
And the vessel sinks beneath the tide.

SOUTHEY.

THE LIGHTHOUSE.

THE rocky ledge runs far into the sea,
And on its outer point, some miles away,
The Lighthouse lifts its massive masonry,

A pillar of fire by night, of cloud by day.

Even at this distance I can see the tides,
Upheaving, break unheard along its base,--
A speechless wrath that rises and subsides,
In the white lip and tremor of the face.

And as the even darkens, lo! how bright,

Through the deep purple of the twilight air, Beams forth the sudden radiance of its light, With strange, unearthly splendour in its glare.

Not one alone; from each projecting cape,

And perilous reef, along the ocean's verge, Starts into life a dim gigantic shape,

Holding its lantern o'er the restless surge.

Like the great giant, Christopher, it stands

Upon the brink of the tempestuous wave, Wading far out among the rocks and sands,

The night-o'ertaken mariner to save.

THE LIGHTHOUSE.

And the great ships sail outward and return,
Bending and bowing o'er the billowy swells,
And ever joyful, as they see it burn,

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They wave their silent welcomes and farewells.

They come forth from the darkness, and their sails Gleam for a moment only in the blaze,

And eager faces, as the night unveils,

Gaze at the tower, and vanish while they gaze.

The mariner remembers, when a child,

On his first voyage, he saw it fade and sink;
And, when returning from adventures wild,
He saw it rise again o'er ocean's brink.

Steadfast, serene, immovable, the same
Year after year, through all the silent night,
Burns on for evermore that quenchless flame,
Shines on that inextinguishable light!

It sees the ocean to its bosom clasp

The rocks and sea-sand with the kiss of It sees the wild winds lift it in their grasp, And hold it up and shake it like a fleece.

peace;

The startled waves leap over it; the storm
Smites it with all the scourges of the rain,
And steadily against its solid form

Press the great shoulders of the hurricane.

The sea-bird wheeling round it, with the din

Of wings, and winds, and solitary cries, Blinded and maddened by the light within,

Dashes himself against the glare and dies.

A new Prometheus, chained upon the rock,
Still grasping in his hand the fire of Jove,
It does not hear the cry, nor heed the shock,
But hails the mariner with words of love.

"Sail on!" it says, "sail on, ye stately ships!
And with your floating bridge the ocean span;
Be mine to guard this light from all eclipse,
Be yours to bring man nearer unto man!"
LONGFELLOW.

ODE TO THE LIGHTHOUSE OF MALTA.

THE world in dreary darkness sleeps profound; The storm-clouds hurry on, by hoarse winds driven;

And night's dull shades and spectral mists confound Earth, sea, and heaven!

King of surrounding chaos! thy dim form
Rises with fiery crown upon thy brow,
To scatter light and peace amid the storm,
And life bestow.

ODE TO THE LIGHTHOUSE OF MALTA.

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In vain the sea with thundering waves may peal,
And burst beneath thy feet in giant sport,
Till the white foam in snowy clouds conceal
The sheltering port.

Thy flaming tongue proclaims, "Behold the shore!"

And voiceless hails the weary pilot back, Whose watchful eyes, like worshippers, explore Thy shining track.

Now silent night a gorgeous mantle wears,-
By sportive winds the clouds are scattered far
And, lo! with starry train the moon appears,
In circling car :

While the pale mist, that thy pale brow enshrouds, In vain would veil thy diadem from sight, Whose form colossal seems to touch the clouds With starlike light.

Ocean's perfidious waves may calmly sleep,
Yet hide sharp rocks, the cliff, false signs dis-
play,-

And luring lights, far flashing o'er the deep,
The ship betray:

But thou, whose splendour dims each lesser beam, Whose firm, unmoved position might declare

I