NOVEMBER 13.
At six this morning, came on a tremendous gale of wind; the captain says, that he never experienced a heavier. However, we rode it out with great success, although, at one time, it was bawled out that we were driving; and, at another, a brig which lay near us broke from her moorings, and came bearing down close upon us. The danger, indeed, from the difference of size, was all upon the side of the brig; but, luckily, the vessels cleared each other. This evening she has thought it as well to remove further from so dangerous a neighbourhood. There is a little cabin boy on board, and Mr. J——— has brought with him a black terrier; and these two at first sight swore to each other an eternal friendship, in the true German style. It is the boy’s first voyage, and he is excessively sea-sick; so he has been obliged to creep into his hammock, and his friend, the little black terrier, has crept into the hammock with him. A boat came from the shore this evening, and reported that several vessels have been dismasted, lost their anchors, and injured in various ways. A brig, which was obliged to make for Ramsgate, missed the pier, and was dashed to pieces completely; the crew, however, were saved, all except the pilot; who, although he was brought on shore alive, what between bruises, drowning, and fright, had suffered so much, that he died two hours afterwards. The weather has now again become calm; but it is still full west.
NOVEMBER 14. (TUESDAY.)
THE HOURS.
Ne’er were the zephyrs known disclosing
More sweets, than when in Tempe’s shades
They waved the lilies, where, reposing,
Sat four and twenty lovely maids.
Those lovely maids were called “the Hours,”
The charge of Virtue’s flock they kept;
And each in turn employ’d her powers
To guard it, while her sisters slept.
False Love, how simple souls thou cheatest!
In myrtle bower, that traitor near
Long watch’d an Hour, the softest, sweetest!
The evening Hour, to shepherds dear. *
In tones so bland he praised her beauty,
Such melting airs his pipe could play,
The thoughtless Hour forgot her duty,
And fled in Love’s embrace away.
Meanwhile the fold was left unguarded—
The wolf broke in—the lambs were slain:
And now from Virtue’s train discarded,
With tears her sisters speak their pain.
Time flies, and still they weep; for never
The fugitive can time restore:
An Hour once fled, has fled for ever,
And all the rest shall smile no more!
* L’heure du berger.