CXXXI.

With this short song they all were satisfied, And soon agreed that it forthwith be sung. In strong, warm feelyngs then each singer vied, And some gave proof they had no lack of lung.

To Duke Street tune were their fine voices strung, And thus verses went off charmingly, While through the distant woods their loud notes rung. The party now, with great alacrity

Regain the boats, and push into that deep, blue sea. And what a beauteous scene was there presented To their admiring gaze on that fine lake. ‘ Twas such that they could all have been contented

To stay forever; but a something spake And bid them hasten, as life was at stake! This may seem, strange, but they with dread behold Heaven's face grow black, while mighty winds awake.

And now‘ tis well that men both strong and bold Have charge of those frail boats well filled with young and old. In this their trouble they look up to God, Who bids the angry elements be still;

And thus suspends o'er them his chastening Rod, While deepest gratitude their bosoms fill, Inspiring them afresh to do His will. It nerves each heart and arm to ply the oar

With ceaseless efforts; working hard until In safety every boat has reached the shore. When the curbed storm at last does all its vengeance pour. The rain comes down in torrents, and the flash

Of vivid lightning penetrates the gloom! Loud roars the mighty thunder, and the dash Of angry waves upon the ear doth boom! The friends, escaped as from a watery tomb,

All stand together‘ neath o'erhanging rock. Somewhat appalled and rather pinched for room, They list in silence each tremendous shock; Yet Christ, their Shepherd, watches o'er his feeble flock.

The storm subsides, and they not much the worse, Cheered by the bright moon beams haste on their way. God's special mercies warmly they rehearse, Which yields fresh comfort, as so well it may.

Upon the whole they had a pleasant day, And ere each separate party leaves the track, The Pastor says, “Dear friends, now let us pray.” All gave consent, and forth there rose no lack

Of earnest prayer to Him who safely brought them back. Now while they separate and thence pursue The several paths that lead them to their farms, I seize occasion to bid warm adieu

To my poor Muse, who lent to me her charms In my adventurous flight; and free from harms Will live in hope the subject to resume As leisure serves me and the topic warms

My height and fancy, which may truth illume, That what I have to sing may live beyond the tomb.