Argument.

THE UNLETTERED MUSE.-The Majesty of Nature.-The Uncertainty of Life.-The Presence of GOD.-Last Moments of Probation.-Heaven's Mercy Invoked.-The Catastrophe.-The Cry of Woe.-Struggles of the Dying.-Death Triumphant.— Silence upon the Deep.-Peace to the Dead; Hope to the Living.-The Surviving Pair.-Orlando's Somerset.-His sudden Wrath.-His Thoughts revert to Hyperia.Sentimentalizing in Jeopardy.-Hyperia's Descent upon the Sea.-Her Presence of Mind.-Secures herelf to a Fragment of the Wreck.-Orlando joins her.-The Mournful Meeting.-Hyperia's Burst of Sorrow.-Orlando Encourages her.-They Supplicate Heaven.-Dawn of the First Morning.--They Despond.-Hyperia suffers from Thirst.-She Sinks.-Orlando's Grief-Bethinks him how to Save her.-The Red Rovers. The Arm-Chest.-Strength of Despair.-The Grateful Vision.-Hyperia Revives. Her Gratitude.-Overhauling a Prize.-The Blissful Draught.-The Wandering Arab.-The Wrecked Mariner.-Sunset.-Orlando's Watch.-Midnight at Sea.-Ruminates on the Loss of Fortune.-Is Comforted.-The Second Dawn.Hyperia Urges her Lover to take Repose.-His Reply.-The Mutual Desire.-The Twin Rose-Buds.-Orlando's Request.-Hyperia's Acquiescence.-THE BETROTHal. -Hovering Presence of LOVE.-Calm of the Elements.-The Bird of HOPE.-Tenderness of the Lovers.-On Soundings.-Twilight.-Overcome with Fatigue, the Affianced Pair Supplicate the Protection of Heaven.-They Sink upon the Wreck in Deep Slumber.-The Mournful Bridal Couch.-The Sound of Distant Surf.-Fragrant Music of the Land Breeze.-Fancy's Flight.-The Guiding Tritons.

Canto Chird.

UNLETTERED, wandering wide, I court the Muse,
The fortunes of two Lovers to rehearse,
And cull poetic flowers of many hues,

To deck my story with the charms of verse;-
Expressive language, dignified and terse,

I aim at, and the sentiment sublime,

In unchecked numbers flowing,-free, diverse, Careless the sound should chord in studied chime, But anxious that the sense should echo to the rhyme.

For I was nursed amid romantic glens,

Where springs the mossy knoll, the fragrant lea ;
Rude hills, green dells, dark forests, humid fens,
With all the wild, enchanting imagery

Of untamed Nature; and I love to see
Creation in its own and master forms,—

Mountain and vale, light shrub and stately tree,
Torrent and rivulet,-whatever charms,

Calm sunshine, gentle gales, or the tempestuous storms.

Of dogmas penned, or uttered by the breath
Of prophet, there is none more true than this,—
That "in the midst of life we are in death !"
And the next moment may the soul dismiss
To its eternal home of pain or bliss,

Of weal or woe, of triumph or despair :-
So frail our tenure then, 'twere not amiss
To scan the confines of life's empire, where
Existence trembles on a breath of doubtful air.

In childhood's budding hour, youth's rosy morn, And manhood's radiant day, Time, as he flies, Bears the drawn sword, menacing all that's born, The strong, the weak, the simple and the wise,— Strikes every moment, and a being dies! The fated brand suspends o'er every head, And while we feel secure Death's missive flies! From youth to age upon a hair we tread,—— A hair but separates the living from the dead!

Surely it is a fearful thing to stand

In God's immediate presence !--who may gaze Upon Omnipotence! Th' angelic band Veil their immortal eyes beneath the rays Of uncreated Light.-In rapt amaze, On bended knee, enclasped with triple wing, Before the LORD OF HOSTS, ANCIENT OF DAYS, Their Amaranthine crowns of light they fling, And "Holy Holy !" cry, in ceaseless choral hymn.

The hour is up!-the flying hand of Time
Marks the last moment of probation !—Now
High Heaven have mercy! nor remember crime,
Nor venial sin, nor careless broken vow,

Nor conscious guilt which pales upon the brow:
High Heaven have mercy! while the rushing steam,
Borne on the wing of Death, shrouds all below;
And the proud ship is shattered, length and beam,
Like to a bubble burst upon a rippling stream.

Hark! from the sullen deep a fearful sound,
That dies away where echo ne'er replies:-
Clouds of hot vapor wreath the vessel round,
And, like a midnight fog, obscure the skies.
The ship's a wreck !—in scattered fragments lies,
A smoking ruin on the combing swell!

The red flues have collapsed! destruction flies
Swift as the desolating bolt that fell

On that ill-fated boat,―the lost, the mourned Moselle !

A moment past, and the proud ship was gliding Like a swift dolphin, through the yielding seas— A moment past, and Beauty all confiding, Smiling like Hebe, and intent to please, Poured her bland voice upon the wafting breeze. Where are they now?-the lovely and the brave, The staid, the gay, so late in health and ease?— Some in their berths below have found a grave, Some toss upon the surge, some struggle down the wave!

O what a cry of woe burst from the deep!

What shrieks of terror pierced the vaulted sky!
What icy chills around each heart did creep,-
What black despair gleamed from each straining eye!
Some, flayed alive, upon the waters lie,

And writhe and groan in agony of pain :—

O it were mercy now bestowed, to die,

And sink unconscious down th' unfathomed main, For life is misery,-death is the wretch's gain!

Some vainly grapple with the burning wreck,
Which, slowly settling, tends the wave below;
While others, maddened in life's sudden check,
Blaspheme their GOD! and the last hope forego,
Despairing in th' extremity of woe!

A few resigned upon the waters lie,
And gazing upward with a dying throe,

Await their dissolution drawing nigh,

Their thoughts transferred to realms beyond the distant sky.

The dying boy invokes his sinking sire,
The struggling sire no foothold may recover,-
Husband and wife in either's arms expire,
In either's arms, the maiden and her lover ;-
Strangers and friends are calling to each other,
Childhood imploring aid,-alas! in vain!

The dashing seas each cry of anguish smother,
Hearts cease to beat, and voices to complain,

And Death sits paramount, triumphant on the main !