25 4 THE ISLAND OF NANTUCKET. 



enough on this little island to embody in ringing, 

 singing rhyme. Dr. Arthur E. Jenks, perhaps the 

 most prolific of our native poets, .and who, it is to be 

 hoped, will before long give to the world a collection 

 of his sparkling little gems, has caught the true spirit 

 of poetry in the natural scenery of this "isle of the 

 sea." As with those before mentioned, there is room 

 but for a few short extracts from his poems. Some 

 years since, during a time of long-continued cold 

 weather, the harbor became closed to navigation, and 

 we were ice-bound. In order to make the time pass 

 less wearily, Dr. Jenks wrote a little pastoral, drama- 

 tized it, and placed it upon the Athenaeum stage with 

 fine scenic effects. It was called " A Winter Crystal," 

 and deserved its name. The following is an extract 

 from it : — 



" Across the plains that like the Scottish moors 

 Are but lone barrens to the man who sees 

 No beauty in their quietness, — who has 

 No heart for Nature in her peaceful moods, 

 No love for the wild flowers and fragrant pines,— 

 Alone upon a lofty headland loomed 

 The weather-beaten tower of Sancoty! 



"Out there in dark night-watches, flashing o'er 

 The treacherous surge that haunts the trackless shore, 

 Light to the mariner whose vessel ploughs 

 The furrows of the ocean, as the blade 

 Of the good husbandman the seas of grain 

 Whose waves roll in upon the harvest floor 

 For the support of man and beast. Dear old 

 Gray Sancoty! Thy form is fair to me; 

 To others thou art but a lighthouse, cold 

 And spiritless, — a pile of quarry stone; 



