But a pang will rise with sad alloy, To soften my spirit and sink my joy, To a mother who hath a child at sea. ELIZA COOK. THE MARINER'S MOTHER'S PRAYER. "A woman's feeble cry may have overruled the elemental war."-(CHALMERS.) THE tempest round the cottage roars, And bends the aged ash; The casement shakes-a deluge pours- Poor sailor! in this midnight hour, How canst thou stand the tempest's power? Thy mother, startled from her sleep, By nature's wild uproar, Thinks of her boy, far on the deep, And, succour to implore, Falls on her knees before His throne, She prays to Him who dried her tears, To Him, who chased the fishers' fears, THE MARINER'S MOTHER'S PRAYER. 257 Cold Infidel!-thou sneer'st to see A widow in distress, Who, thinking on a rocky lee, Prays Heaven her boy to bless.— 'Tis well thou laugh'st not at her care, But at the folly of her prayer. Oh! know'st thou not she prays to Him He checks the blast-a zephyr blows, Borne on the wings of Jesus' name, Thus feeble woman on her knees Can hush the storm, and calm the seas. Yes-her's is covenanted power, With her thy Saviour's grace implore, And praise Him when thou makest the shore. J. LONGMUIR. R THE SAILOR'S MOTHER. ONE morning (raw it was and wet— Not old, though something past her prime : Majestic in her person, tall and straight, And like a Roman matron's was her mien and gait. The ancient spirit is not dead; Old times, thought I, are breathing there; Proud was I that my country bred Such strength, a dignity so fair. She begged an alms, like one in poor estate; When from these lofty thoughts I woke, 66 "What is it," said I, “ that you bear Beneath the covert of your cloak, Protected from the cold bleak air?" She answered, soon as she the question heard, "A simple burthen, sir, a little singing bird." And thus continuing, she said, "I had a son, who many a day Sailed on the seas, but he is dead; In Denmark he was cast away; And I have travelled weary miles, to see If aught which he had owned might still remain for me. THE PAIN OF UNCERTAINTY. "The bird and cage they both were his; 259 The singing bird had gone with him; When last he sailed, he left the bird behind, From bodings, as might be, he had upon his mind. "He to a fellow-lodger's care Had left it to be watched and fed, And pipe its song in safety; there I found it when my son was dead; And now, [forgive] me for my little wit, I bear it with me, sir;-he took so much delight in it!" WORDSWORTH. THE PAIN OF UNCERTAINTY. "The hope that keeps alive despair."-(MONTGOMERY.) WHERE art thou, my beloved son, Oh, find me, prosperous or undone! Seven years, alas! to have received To have despaired, have hoped, believed, Ah! little doth the young one dream, My son, if thou be humbled, poor, Alas! the fowls of heaven have wings, |