the last of the gascoignes.
169
And each shuddering at their now dire state;
Being still so uncertain of their future fate.
Alas! how changed is the noble Gascoigne now,
Suffering having marked his once happy brow.
His dark eyes now with a fierce lustre burn,
As on the ocean his restless glance is turned,—
There he kneels, by his loved playmate's side,
And from his pale face the matted hair divides.
Gascoigne now sinking down by Duncan Leigh,
Was plunged by exhaustion in a deep lethargy.
"Rest on, dear Gascoigne, rest on, brave boy,
And may thy now tranquil sleep be unalloy'd."
Thus murmured the still watchful Martin Brend,
As he leant o'er Gascoigne, his new found friend.
Sleep on, brave boy, God is good, and quick to save,
On mountain, lake, or the wild ocean's wave.
But hark! what is the hollow sound I hear?—
Can it be the breaking surf of an island near?
Oh! yes, in the distance, but a few miles away,
They descried a coral isle with its lovely bay!—
All alone, and unseen, it seemed as asleep,
On the wide, the grand, and the tranquil deep.
Slowly towards its most beauteous shore so green,
When the sun's last ray of golden sheen
Bathes the calm breast of the wide Lagoon,
Being still so uncertain of their future fate.
Alas! how changed is the noble Gascoigne now,
Suffering having marked his once happy brow.
His dark eyes now with a fierce lustre burn,
As on the ocean his restless glance is turned,—
There he kneels, by his loved playmate's side,
And from his pale face the matted hair divides.
Gascoigne now sinking down by Duncan Leigh,
Was plunged by exhaustion in a deep lethargy.
"Rest on, dear Gascoigne, rest on, brave boy,
And may thy now tranquil sleep be unalloy'd."
Thus murmured the still watchful Martin Brend,
As he leant o'er Gascoigne, his new found friend.
Sleep on, brave boy, God is good, and quick to save,
On mountain, lake, or the wild ocean's wave.
But hark! what is the hollow sound I hear?—
Can it be the breaking surf of an island near?
Oh! yes, in the distance, but a few miles away,
They descried a coral isle with its lovely bay!—
All alone, and unseen, it seemed as asleep,
On the wide, the grand, and the tranquil deep.
Slowly towards its most beauteous shore so green,
When the sun's last ray of golden sheen
Bathes the calm breast of the wide Lagoon,
