THE VALE OF LANHERNE. 171 



While old Saint Mawgan with the uproar rang; 

 The old oaks round the Hall like saplings failed^ 

 And many an elm the homeless rooks bewaiFd; 

 And soon the foremost of the anxious band 

 From hill and dale that rushed, the Squire was hailed, 

 And first was seen upon the trembling strand, 

 Grasping the cliff *mid clouds of spray and whirling sand. 



How reeled the skies commingling with the waves, 

 The solid earth seemed moving like the main, 

 And heaved the hollow rocks like yawning graves. 

 Who but a king had ever thought to chain 

 The mighty Sea 1 fit scheme for pride- turned brain ! 

 But kings are wiser grown, nor think to bind 

 The billows now, but only to restrain 

 The silent motion of the human mind. 

 But stronger than the Sea shall they Man*s spirit find. 



What choir of thunders bursts along the strand, 

 Pealing the dirge of navies, while the gale 

 Pours its wild fugue as from some organ grand, 

 To die in mournful tones in distant vale. 

 Woe to the far sea-bird and landward sail. 

 Woe to the sea-boy on the quivering mast, 

 Mothers and wives and maids shall long bewail 

 This day to many a gallant heart the last — 

 Death leaves the land to-day to ride upon the blast. 



A sail — a sail ! a hundred voices shout. 

 Now lost within the billows' downward sweep, 

 Now from the wild of waters bursting out 

 Like snow-white courser from some forest deep : 

 Away — away it bounds o'er glen and steep 

 Of the green sea, like steed that hears afar 

 The hunter's blast ; so might the charger leap 

 Upon its hills to scent the distant war, 

 Tossing its silver mane, and spurning every bar. 



The Sloop right onward booms upon the coast; 

 Three British Seamen by the helm are seen, 



Men by their looks, all hope of rescue lost, 

 Yet firm of heart, who from their youth have been 

 Familiar with the waves; theirs the staid mien, 

 Of men nor foe nor tempest can subdue, 

 The proper liegemen of the Ocean's Queen: 



