1832.] 



Gibhs the Pirate. 



463 



the mulatto steward, being convicted upon the evidence of their asso- 

 ciates, were condemned to death, and executed upon Long Island, 

 near the scene of their landing from the brig. The particulars of this 

 narrative are from the confessions of Gibbs, previous to his death ; and 

 an important document is said to have been rendered by him, containing 

 the names of many of his former associates in his career of piracy : 

 from which it appears, that many of the highest authorities of the island 

 of Cuba have been for years connected with piratical adventurers. 

 It is now the prevailing opinion in America, that the military occupa- 

 tion, by a superior power, of that lawless dependency of Spain, can alone 

 prevent a repetition of those murderous piratical horrors, which have 

 recently spread universal terror over the seas of the West Indies. 



MEDITATIONS ON A SCENE IN SUMMER. 



OH, Spirit of the Day, what sounds are these ? 

 And what a lovely light is on the land ! 

 Here pilgrim-like I sink upon my knees, 

 Where summer, with its glad and golden hand, 

 Hath spread profuser glories ; and thus fanned 

 By the mild air, at Nature's living shrine, 

 I yield my spirit to her sweet command ; 

 And, filled with calm delight and thoughts divine, 

 Salute the sacred sun, and watch its slow decline. 







Above me, and around me> and beneath, 

 Far issuing from the sky, the tree, the ground, 

 Beings invisible a balm bequeath, 

 Wherein the mystic charm of health is found. 

 Here, seated on this softly shadowed mound, 

 Beneath the breathing beauty of these trees, 

 That seem enamoured of each sylvan sound, 

 Raising their leafy lyres amid the breeze, 

 Here may my mind look forth in full majestic ease : 



And, with a deeply meditative eye, 

 Reading the radiant truth sublimely writ 

 Along the purple page unrolled on high, 

 Surpassing all the powers of mortal wit, 

 Behold across the vivid volume flit 

 The cold grey shadows of unsettled things, 

 Dimming the azure tints that still emit 

 A warmth and welcome unto one that brings 

 A heart by nature held from worldly wanderings. 



Anon my eye enraptured views the air 

 With silver plumes and wreaths fantastic graced, 

 Pictured in colours exquisitely fair 

 And varied as the forms amid them traced : 

 They come and vanish, not to be effaced 

 From the mute mind, that treasures in its cell 

 The tokens of eternal beauty placed 

 Promiscuously round, that man may dwell 

 Among familiar signs of joy invisible. 



