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IV 



Mild as an angel, on the riven prow 



She stands arrayed for the dread sacrifice 



In her consummate beauty ! many avow 



And many a prayer, as each brave sailor tries 



To front the furious billows, doth ascend 



Up to the heaven of heavens ! There all is gloom ! 



The fatal hour has come, and here Aust end 



Her sainted life, in all its virgin bloom. 



Ah ! o'er the ship yon crested billow leaps 



And Virginie is in its foamy grasp ! 



One look — one tear — One agonising gasp 



And all is gone. . . Hope, love and beauty sleeps 



In the deep tomb of Avaters, premature 



To the earth's best, brightest things, too spotless to endure !- 



My reverie is past. ., Once more I turn 



To contemplate the stern reality 



Of life, and watch those pangs that sear and burn 



The cheek of innocence, whose suppliant cry 



Passes unheard amidst the angry surge 



Of human struggles : genius, like a flower 



Whose perfumed beauties tenderly emerge 



Into a brief existence, there must urge 



Its faidtering strength, unrecompensed that power, 



Supreme o'er all, to elevate and console, 



To plume with pinions fair our earth-bound hearts, 



And shed hope's soft effulgence o'er the soul ! 



Yet e'en this darker destiny imparts 



A sweet, though hidden joy, beyond the worlds' control. 



VI 



For Grenius holds high commerce with its God, 



Nearer its soarings and more frequent too 



fn that supernal region whose bright sod 



Fond youth's ideal Tempe can outdo. 



And just is our eternal Parent here 



To scatter thorns along the path of life ; 



Por genius in its strenuous career, 



With its own spiritual pleasures rife 



Can Avell forego the gifts of pomp and power 



Wealth's vain concomitants, fleeting as vain ! 



Such Bernardin ! was thy unblemished dower. 



And by its aid thy memoiy will remain 



Whilst beauty, virtue and religious moA'e 



The hearts of men with hope, with sympathy and love. 



