THE SEA. 



God ! the only one on record ; he was but one of the noble army of sailor martyrs of 

 whom Mrs. Hemans sung so touchingly : 



' ' Yet more ! the billows and the depth have more ! 



High hearts and brave are gathered to thy breast ! 

 They hear not now the booming waters roar ; 



The battle thunders will not break their rest. 

 Keep thy red gold and gems, thou stormy grave 1 

 Give back the true and brave ! 



GETTING OXIT THE "LONDON'S" BOATS. 



" Give back the lost and lovely ! those for whom 



The place was kept at board and hearth so long, 

 The prayer went up through midnight's breathless gloom, 



And the vain yearning woke 'midst festive song ! 

 Hold fast thy buried isles, thy towers or throne 



But all is not thine own. 



" To thee the love of woman hath gone down ; 



Dark flow the tides o'er manhood's noble head, 

 Or youth's bright locks, and beauty's flowery crown : 



Yet must thou hear a voice Restore the dead! 

 Earth shall reclaim her precious things from thee! 



Restore the dead, thou sea ! " 



The boat, into which the captain had thrown a compass, and to the occupants of which 



