SHIPWRECK.
THREE days and nights the boat stood out,
And battled for its life;
" We'll win through yet," the captain said,
And buckled to the strife.
We cheered him then, a feeble cheer,
There was no breath to spare;
For one hand held a fainting hope,
And one a strong despair.
The sun went down behind the hills,
The mighty hills of foam;
And as the green the crimson caught,
We thought of hills at home.
