THE LOSS OF THE STEAMER LEXINGTON.
"We know not what a day may bring forth."
Fled like the horrors of a fearful dream;,
The secrets of that dark and awful night.
The sun in glorious majesty went down,
Shedding the splendors of his parting beam:
O'er the expanse of sky, and land, and sea.
Forth on the yielding wave the bounding bark,
Exulting as an uncaged bird to cleave
With golden wing its airy element,
Moved in the pride of queenly dignity.
And hearts beat there whose gems of truth and love
Outshone the wealth of Eastern argosy.
Hope, the fond priestess at affection's shrine,
Awaited each returning wanderer,
While Love grew breathless from excess of bliss.
The secrets of that dark and awful night.
The sun in glorious majesty went down,
Shedding the splendors of his parting beam:
O'er the expanse of sky, and land, and sea.
Forth on the yielding wave the bounding bark,
Exulting as an uncaged bird to cleave
With golden wing its airy element,
Moved in the pride of queenly dignity.
And hearts beat there whose gems of truth and love
Outshone the wealth of Eastern argosy.
Hope, the fond priestess at affection's shrine,
Awaited each returning wanderer,
While Love grew breathless from excess of bliss.
How little know we, when the heart beats high
With joy's untold, unutterable strength,
What the dim future has in store to blight
Life's fairest bloom, and hope's most radiant dreams!
Morn broke in glory where the sun had set
In peace. That gallant bark, which proudly trod
Her onward path, and seemed to set at nought
The strength of man, and almost to repel,
In scorn, the arm of the Omnipotent,
Where had it vanished, with its wealth of mind?
Had the pure breeze of heaven, with gentle breath,
Borne it in triumph to its destined port?
Had heart met heart in bliss, around that shrine
Made sacred by the hallowing name of home?
With joy's untold, unutterable strength,
What the dim future has in store to blight
Life's fairest bloom, and hope's most radiant dreams!
Morn broke in glory where the sun had set
In peace. That gallant bark, which proudly trod
Her onward path, and seemed to set at nought
The strength of man, and almost to repel,
In scorn, the arm of the Omnipotent,
Where had it vanished, with its wealth of mind?
Had the pure breeze of heaven, with gentle breath,
Borne it in triumph to its destined port?
Had heart met heart in bliss, around that shrine
Made sacred by the hallowing name of home?
Not such the dark reality; but grief
Imprints no trace upon the treacherous wave,
Nor leaves its record on. the sea-washed sand.
Else might a pen of living flame have stamped,
Deeply, indelibly, its impress there.
What precious hopes were blighted, what sweet dreams
Were to the hours: of waking anguish changed,
When goodness, beauty, youth and age were borne.
Trophies to gem the silent halls of death!
Thither the pride of manhood, and the grace
Of matron beauty, and the uncounted wealth
Garnered within a mother's love, went down.
The eagle glance of youth, the fearless eye
Of childhood's holy confidence are closed
In that hushed sleep which knows no waking hour,
Save in the clime where death is all unknown.
Imprints no trace upon the treacherous wave,
Nor leaves its record on. the sea-washed sand.
Else might a pen of living flame have stamped,
Deeply, indelibly, its impress there.
What precious hopes were blighted, what sweet dreams
Were to the hours: of waking anguish changed,
When goodness, beauty, youth and age were borne.
Trophies to gem the silent halls of death!
Thither the pride of manhood, and the grace
Of matron beauty, and the uncounted wealth
Garnered within a mother's love, went down.
The eagle glance of youth, the fearless eye
Of childhood's holy confidence are closed
In that hushed sleep which knows no waking hour,
Save in the clime where death is all unknown.
And thou, O-man of God! what yearning thoughts
Cluster around thy lowly ocean-grave!
What fervor of devotion, what sublime
And spirit-stirring powers of mind were thine!
Thy voice, as though an angel's harp had lent
The music of its chords to mortal tongue,
Fell on the listening ear, and charmed the soul.
We hear no more its meek yet earnest tones,
In fervent prayer within God's earthly courts.
Amid angelic hosts thy strains are heard,
Hymning the praises of the Eternal One.
Nor by his side, thy brother and thy friend,
"Shall calmly rest thy precious ashes, where
Mount Auburn sheds its perfume on the breeze,
Wooing earth's pilgrim traveler to repose,
Mid Spring's sweet bloom and Autumn's glorious hues,
On the calm bosom of his mother earth.
Love on the marble cenotaph shall trace
The spotless record of thy faithfulness,
While nature rears its monument of waves
Above the nameless spot where sleeps thy dust.
Cluster around thy lowly ocean-grave!
What fervor of devotion, what sublime
And spirit-stirring powers of mind were thine!
Thy voice, as though an angel's harp had lent
The music of its chords to mortal tongue,
Fell on the listening ear, and charmed the soul.
We hear no more its meek yet earnest tones,
In fervent prayer within God's earthly courts.
Amid angelic hosts thy strains are heard,
Hymning the praises of the Eternal One.
Nor by his side, thy brother and thy friend,
"Shall calmly rest thy precious ashes, where
Mount Auburn sheds its perfume on the breeze,
Wooing earth's pilgrim traveler to repose,
Mid Spring's sweet bloom and Autumn's glorious hues,
On the calm bosom of his mother earth.
Love on the marble cenotaph shall trace
The spotless record of thy faithfulness,
While nature rears its monument of waves
Above the nameless spot where sleeps thy dust.
Rest ye in peace, ye sleepers of the deep!
Oft shall the tear-dimmed eye, as pensive eve
Sheds o'er the soul sweet memories of the past,
Turn to that lone and lowly resting-place;
While faith reposes in implicit trust
On the sure promise of Omnipotence:
The sea shall yield its dead, and buried Love
And Love left sorrowing o'er its wreck of bliss,
Shall meet again in rapture.
Oft shall the tear-dimmed eye, as pensive eve
Sheds o'er the soul sweet memories of the past,
Turn to that lone and lowly resting-place;
While faith reposes in implicit trust
On the sure promise of Omnipotence:
The sea shall yield its dead, and buried Love
And Love left sorrowing o'er its wreck of bliss,
Shall meet again in rapture.
So tread on
The remnant of your earthly pilgrimage,
Ye who have seen life's fairest hopes decay,
Counting each cloud that lowers above your head
But as a curtaining veil which death shall rend,
And to his children's eye the smile reveal
Of Love Divine,—viewing each thorn that mars
Your pathway as a flower to make more bright
The amaranth wreath which crowns the sons of God.
None are so near the golden gate of heaven
As those whose spirits have been rendered pure
By sanctified afflictions. So pass on,
Till ye awake from earth's short, feverish dream,
To share the blissful day which knows no night.'
The remnant of your earthly pilgrimage,
Ye who have seen life's fairest hopes decay,
Counting each cloud that lowers above your head
But as a curtaining veil which death shall rend,
And to his children's eye the smile reveal
Of Love Divine,—viewing each thorn that mars
Your pathway as a flower to make more bright
The amaranth wreath which crowns the sons of God.
None are so near the golden gate of heaven
As those whose spirits have been rendered pure
By sanctified afflictions. So pass on,
Till ye awake from earth's short, feverish dream,
To share the blissful day which knows no night.'