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CRUCE AND CORONA.
Still wildly on the foaming billows dash,And higher round the reef each moment roll,Some mortal sweeping to the depths beneath.With calm sublime the mother meets her fate.The darkness of the hour just ere the dawnBroods o'er the reef; no human form is there.'Tis morn upon the sea. With sails unfurledTo gentle breezes, o'er the azure wavesMajesticly a stately vessel glides.A piteous cry floats o'er the heaving waves,And startles ev'ry soul within the ship,A wailing cry that vibrates on the heartWith pow'r as can no sound but human voice.The ship moves on; and soon before the viewThere tow'rs a cliff high o'er a wreck-strewn reef.A boat is lowered from the vessel's side,Two sailors brave row swiftly to the reef,In silence tread among the wrecks, and comeWhere still within its cavern cradle liesThe little one that in the last night's stormThe mother left in trembling hope and trust.
Upon the child the wond'ring sailors gaze,And wonder in the child's soul stills her cries.But wonder gives to disappointment place,As suddenly to consciousness there comesThe mem'ry of her mother. From the cave
