And the silent waves, in their fearful sweep,
Will ingulf both you and me;
But still, like a beacon that tells of the past,
Will stand our first elm-tree.
THE ROYAL CARPENTER OF AMSTERDAM.
The superintendent of the Dock Yard in Amsterdam was seated in his office one afternoon, indulging himself in smoking a rude pipe; a luxury then recently imported from the colony of Virginia, in the New World.
His reflections, whatever they were, were broken in upon by a knock at the door,—not a timid, hesitating knock; but a bold, authoritative summons. The superintendent, judging it must proceed from some person of consequence, hastily laid aside his pipe, and quickly threw open the door, to admit his unknown visitor.