A RIDE TO THE GREAT LOCH. 53 



" All ! verse instead of a drawing of ocean depths : 

 but you could hardly sketch in a diving-bell. Let 

 us look at the inspiration." 



Ward laughed, and handed the thing to Major 

 Duncan, who put down his pipe and read aloud 



S^EVAS TRANQUILLAS IN T7NDI8. 



' Tis false religion, false philosophy 

 To teach life's ills arc nought, life's pleasures toys; 



And wisest minds with simple natures vie 

 In frankly sharing common griefs and joys. 



Yet doth the heart retain a hallow' d spot, 

 A sacred fane, where many feelings lie 



With which the stranger intermeddleth not 

 A mind's retreat and Christian's sanctuary. 



Men of great heart and eke of judgment ripe 



Have the broad living ocean as their type, 

 That open-arm'd receives earth's tribute streams, 



Spreading in bounteous rain those tributes won ; 

 Changeful in mood, as childhood's face in dreams, 



Frowns with each cloud, or glitters in the sun. 

 Oft fretful gales dispel the ocean's rest, 



Tornadoes fierce its throbbing bosom vex ; 

 Then is upheaved the white and dreaded crest, 



The trembling shore all strewn with piteous wrecks. 

 Yet, far below, in crystal depths profound, 

 Waves have no force, the shrieking wind no sound. 

 Deep, where rich spoils of many a foreign land, 



Hid ever from man's grasping, slowly rot ; 

 Down, where, till doomsday, rest on silver sands 



Unshrouded dead, long shipwreck'd, long forgot, 

 In gloom more hush'd than dim Carthusian cell. 



Such rest, that wind nor wave have never power 

 To move one fragile weed or tiny shell 



