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POEMS.
Perchance we ne'er shall mingle here
In thought, or drop a grief-ful tear
Together o'er a common bier,
  Or recreate in mirth;
Then may we clasp each other's hand
Within the borders of that land,
Where we shall meet and understand
  The mysteries of earth.




Watch Hill.
But yesterday the gayest throng
That ever sojourned by the sea,
With billows wrestled, brave and strong,
Or shone in festal halls, where song
And minuet held revelry.

O'er watery courses flying yachts,
Competitors fraternal, sped;
Their "logs" recording wondrous knots,
Till, far from view, but meager dots
The overstraining vision led.

But crafty shark and monster whale
May now disport where these have been,
Unterrified by gay taffrail
Of pleasure-craft whose pennon sail
Some landsman's hand hath gathered in.