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the last of the gascoignes.
Watching the sea gulls cleaving the foam,
Around the fine bows of his future home!
Over her hull he cast his dark eyes,
Then glancing them upward to the skies,
Paused a moment, earnestly to view
The binding ropes both stout and true.
How little he dreamt of danger or wreck,
As he stood on the frigate's noble deck!
Bidding farewell to his native land,
Gascoigne now sails for a distant strand.
Suddenly there breaks upon his listening ear,
In tones both loud, distinct and clear,
Borne on the breeze of the dancing main,
Words of a wild and mournful strain:—
Listening a moment, they passed away
Like floating clouds on a summer's day,—
"I know not why—that unhappy lay
Sweeps like an arrrow o'er my youthful brain!"
As Gascoigne spoke, the singer turned his face,
So mild, so gentle, in all its quiet grace;—
It seemed too pure for earth or sea,
So saint-like in its sweet tranquility!
¢Who art thou?" now Gascoigne wildly cried,
Springing to the youthful singer's side.
"My name," said the boy, "is Allan Grey:"—
All reserve in an instant passed away.
Around the fine bows of his future home!
Over her hull he cast his dark eyes,
Then glancing them upward to the skies,
Paused a moment, earnestly to view
The binding ropes both stout and true.
How little he dreamt of danger or wreck,
As he stood on the frigate's noble deck!
Bidding farewell to his native land,
Gascoigne now sails for a distant strand.
Suddenly there breaks upon his listening ear,
In tones both loud, distinct and clear,
Borne on the breeze of the dancing main,
Words of a wild and mournful strain:—
Listening a moment, they passed away
Like floating clouds on a summer's day,—
"I know not why—that unhappy lay
Sweeps like an arrrow o'er my youthful brain!"
As Gascoigne spoke, the singer turned his face,
So mild, so gentle, in all its quiet grace;—
It seemed too pure for earth or sea,
So saint-like in its sweet tranquility!
¢Who art thou?" now Gascoigne wildly cried,
Springing to the youthful singer's side.
"My name," said the boy, "is Allan Grey:"—
All reserve in an instant passed away.
