SEAWEEDS. 1 4 1 



Oh, children of ocean, blythe are we, 

 Born in the depths of the brimy sea ; 

 Nursed by the motion of sounding waves, 

 Deep in the shadows of coral caves : 



Down, down 

 In the dark blue sea. 



Blythe children of ocean svire are we, 

 When first from the rocks our roots are free ; 

 And spreading our leaves we float away, 

 Up to the light of the living day : 



Up, up 

 In the sun's bright ray. 



Lone children of ocean, lost are we 

 When cast on the shore by the angry sea, 

 If none will gather the sea- weed spray, 

 To mix with the bloom of the garden gay ; 



Still, still 

 To breathe of the sea. 



So I gathered in haste the seaweed spray, 



And brought it forth to the light of day ; 



And I thought, as I did so, of other flowers, 



Gathered from earth for heavenly bowers. 



I pictured the beauteous spirit forms, 



Once nursed below amid life's rude storms ; 



And I thought of their blooming on Canaan's shore. 



To be tossed by angry waves no more." 



That niglit the voice of prayer and praise arose from 

 the cottager and his family, mingling with the distant 

 roar of the ocean, and the ceaseless souorhinp; of the 

 wind ; and we felt as if our little chamber were a mere 

 bench in the great temple, where the mountains wor- 

 shipped, and the trees bowed down their heads, and the 



