Trifling with terror, while they strive to shun
The curling billows; laughing as they run;
They know the neck that joins the shore and sea,
Or, ah! how changed that fearless laugh would be.
Observe how various Parties take their way,
By seaside walks, or make the sand-hills gay;
There group'd are laughing maids and sighing swains,
And some apart who feel unpitied pains;
Pains from diseases, pains which those who feel,
To the physician, not the fair, reveal:
For nymphs (propitious to the lover's sigh)
Leave these poor patients to complain and die.
Lo! where on that huge anchor sadly leans
That sick tall figure, lost in other scenes;
He late from India's clime impatient sail'd,
There, as his fortune grew, his spirits fail'd;
For each delight, in search of wealth he went,
For ease alone, the wealth acquired is spent -
And spent in vain; enrich'd, aggrieved, he sees
The envied poor possess'd of joy and ease:
And now he flies from place to place, to gain
Strength for enjoyment, and still flies in vain :
Mark with what sadness, of that pleasant crew,
Boist'rous in mirth, he takes a transient view;
And fixing then his eye upon the sea,

Thinks what has been and what must shortly be:
Is it not strange that man should health destroy,
For joys that come when he is dead to joy?
Now is it pleasant in the Summer-eve,
When a broad shore retiring waters leave,
Awhile to wait upon the firm fair sand,
When all is calm at sea, all still at land;

And there the ocean's produce to explore,
As floating by, or rolling on the shore;
Those living jellies (1) which the flesh inflame,
Fierce as a nettle, and from that its name;
Some in huge masses, some that you may bring
In the small compass of a lady's ring;
Figured by hand divine -

there's not a gem

Wrought by man's art to be compared to them;
Soft, brilliant, tender, through the wave they glow,
And make the moonbeam brighter where they flow.
Involved in sea-wrack, here you find a race,
Which science doubting, knows not where to place;
On shell or stone is dropp'd the embryo-seed, (2)
And quickly vegetates a vital breed. (3)

While thus with pleasing wonder you inspect
Treasures the vulgar in their scorn reject,
See as they float along th' entangled weeds
Slowly approach, upborne on bladdery beads;

(1) Some of the smaller species of the Medusa (sea-nettle) are exquisitely beautiful: their form is nearly oval, varied with serrated longitudinal lines; they are extremely tender, and by no means which I am acquainted with can be preserved, for they soon dissolve in either spirit of wine or water, and lose every vestige of their shape, and indeed of their substance: the larger species are found in misshapen masses of many pounds weight; these, when handled, have the effect of the nettle; and the stinging is often accompanied or succeeded by the more unpleasant feeling, perhaps in a slight degree resembling that caused by the torpedo.

(2) Various tribes and species of marine vermes are here meant that which so nearly resembles a vegetable in its form, and perhaps, in some degree, manner of growth, is the coralline called by naturalists Sertularia; of which there are many species in almost every part of the coast. The animal protrudes its many claws (apparently in search of prey) from certain pellucid vesicles, which proceed from a horny, tenacious, branchy stem.

(3) [The topics which this evening view on the sea-shore embraces have never, as far as we recollect, been so distinctly treated of in poetry: they are here recorded, too, in very appropriate numbers. The versification, of the latter part of the passage particularly, is brilliant and éveillée, and has something of the pleasing restlessness of the ocean itself. GIFFORD.]

Wait till they land, and you shall then behold . The fiery sparks those tangled fronds infold, Myriads of living points (1); th' unaided eye Can but the fire and not the form descry. And now your view upon the ocean turn, And there the splendour of the waves discern; Cast but a stone, or strike them with an oar, And you shall flames within the deep explore; scoop the stream phosphoric as you stand, And the cold flames shall flash along your hand; When, lost in wonder, you shall walk and gaze On weeds that sparkle, and on waves that biaze. (2)

Or

(1) These are said to be a minute kind of animal of the same class: when it does not shine, it is invisible to the naked eye.

(2) For the cause or causes of this phenomenon, which is sometimes, though rarely, observed on our coasts, I must refer the reader to the writers on philosophy and natural history. [There are few phenomena in nature much more striking than the luminous appearance exhibited by the water of the ocean, particularly in tempestuous weather; terrific, in particular, to landsmen in these cases, as it is resplendent and beautiful in the calms of summer. It has accordingly not only been an object of much remark among common observers, but has excited the attention of naturalists at all times, Bo as to have led to much discussion. From the time of Pliny downwards, frequent enquiries have been made respecting the cause, and accordingly many different theories have been proffered. It was long taken for granted that this property belonged to the water itself, not to any bodies contained in it. Mayer, and others who followed him, considered that this phenomenon depended on the same cause as the light emitted by the diamond and other substances after exposure to the sun's rays. Others were content with calling the light phosphoric, and with supposing that sea-water was endowed with the property of phosphorescence. Another party attributed the light to the putrefaction of sea water, although it was not explained what the connection was between putrefaction and phosphorescence. The experiments of Dr. Hulme made a nearer approximation to the true cause, by showing that the luminous secretion or matter attached to the mucus of certain fishes was diffusible in water. Later or more accurate naturalists, and seamen also, have, however, observed that some marine worms and insects were luminous; and thus it was admitted that some, at least, of the luminous appearances of the sea might be produced by these: but to Dr. Macculloch we are indebted for having first brought the whole of this VOL. III.

M

The ocean too has Winter-views serene, When all you see through densest fog is seen; When you can hear the fishers near at hand Distinctly speak, yet see not where they stand; Or sometimes them and not their boat discern Or half-conceal'd some figure at the stern; The view's all bounded, and from side to side Your utmost prospect but a few ells wide; Boys who, on shore, to sea the pebble cast, Will hear it strike against the viewless mast; While the stern boatman growls his fierce disdain, At whom he knows not, whom he threats in vain. 'Tis pleasant then to view the nets float past, Net after net till you have seen the last; And as you wait till all beyond you slip, A boat comes gliding from an anchor'd ship, Breaking the silence with the dipping oar, And their own tones, as labouring for the shore, Those measured tones which with the scene agrec, And give a sadness to serenity.

All scenes like these the tender Maid should shun, Nor to a misty beach in autumn run; Much should she guard against the evening cold, And her slight shape with fleecy warmth infold; This she admits, but not with so much ease Gives up the night-walk when th' attendants please: Her have I seen, pale, vapour'd through the day, With crowded parties at the midnight play;

question into one clear point of view, in his work on the Western Islands of Scotland, and for so great an extension of the luminous property to the marine species, as to have erected this into a general law. - BREWSTER.]

Faint in the morn, no powers could she exert;
At night with Pam delighted and alert ;

In a small shop she's raffled with a crowd,

Breath'd the thick air, and cough'd and laugh'd aloud;

She who will tremble if her eye explore

[floor;"

"The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on Whom the kind doctor charged with shaking head, At early hour to quit the beaux for bed:

She has, contemning fear, gone down the dance,
Till she perceived the rosy morn advance ;
Then has she wonder'd, fainting o'er her tea,
Her drops and julep should so useless be:
Ah! sure her joys must ravish every sense,
Who buys a portion at such vast expense.

Among those joys, 't is one at eve to sail
On the broad River with a favourite gale;
When no rough waves upon the bosom ride,
But the keel cuts, nor rises on the tide ;
Safe from the stream the nearer gunwale stands,
Where playful children trail their idle hands:
Or strive to catch long grassy leaves that float
On either side of the impeded boat;
What time the moon arising shows the mud,
A shining border to the silver flood:
When, by her dubious light, the meanest views,
Chalk, stones, and stakes, obtain the richest hues;
And when the cattle, as they gazing stand,

Seem nobler objects than when view'd from land:
Then anchor'd vessels in the way appear,
And sea-boys greet them as they pass

cheer?"

"What