CAPE COTTAGE.

We stood upon the ragged rocks,

When the long day was nearly done, The waves had ceased their sullen shocks

And lapped our feet with murmuring tone, And, o'er the Bay, in streaming locks

Blew the red tresses of the Sun.

Along the west the golden bars
Still to a deeper glory grew,

Above our heads, the faint few stars

Looked out from the unfathomed blue,

And the far city's clamorous jars

Seemed melted in that evening hue.

Oh sunset sky, oh purple tide,

Oh friends to friends that closer press'd, Those glories have in darkness died,

And ye have left my longing breast,

I could not keep you by my side,

Nor fix that radiance in the west.

Upon those rocks the waves shall beat

With the same low and murmurous strain,

Across those waves with glancing feet
The sunset rays shall seek the main;
But when together shall we meet,
Cape Cottage, on thy shores again?

NEARER TO THEE.

YEARS, years have fled, since, hushed in thy last slumber,
They laid thee down beneath the old elm tree;
But with a patient heart each day I number,
Because it brings me nearer still to thee.

Twilight comes, and robes in softest splendor
All that is beautiful on land and sea,
And o'er my spirit flings an influence tender,
For in that hour I nearer seem to thee.

The night is gone; and as the mists of morning
Before the Day-god's burning presence flee,
Thus in my heart a welcome light is dawning,
That cheers me as I nearer press to thee.

I sometimes think thy spirit kindly watches
Over the heart that loved so tenderly;
For there are rapturous moments when it catches
As if in dreams, a blessed glimpse of thee.

In those sweet seasons thou dost come before me,
With loveliness that earth may never see:

I feel thy presence like a blessing o'er me,
And then I know I nearer am to thee.

THE LAUNCHING.

She starts-she moves-she seems to feel
The thrill of life along her keel,

And spurning with her foot the ground,
With one exulting, joyous bound,
She leaps into the ocean's arms!

H. W. LONGFELLOW.

WELL may they deck the ship to-day
With colors flaunting free,

Well

may she wear her best array, So soon a bride to be;

Long has the dainty beauty kept

Her lover from her charms,

But now her last lone sleep is slept,
We give her to his arms.

Oh, guard our darling from the storm:

Thy bosom never bore

A prouder or more faultless form,

A fairer love before.

Tame down thy billows thundering shocks,

Thy foaming wrath, O Sea!

And keep her from the angry rocks

That lie along her lee.

Her home has been where green hills kiss The river's rippling tide,

But, oh! our eyes must learn to miss The Ocean's new-made bride, Where white-capp'd waves forever rise, Where sea-birds skim the foam, Far off, beneath the sea-kissed skies, Our Beauty seeks her home.

Ah, proud may be the mariners
That stand upon her deck;
They little fear, in strength like hers,
The tempest or the wreck:

And proudly may her ensign fly

That bears the stripes and stars;

The peace that builds a ship like this,
Is worth a thousand wars.

A. D. Woodbridge.