Come with thy melting skies Like her cheek blushing, Come with thy dewy eyes Where founts are gushing; Come where the wild bee hies When dawn is flushing.
Lead her where by the brook The first blossom keepeth, Where, in the sheltered nook, The callow bud sleepeth; Or with a timid look Through its leaves peepeth.
Lead her where on the spray, Blithely carolling, First birds their roundelay For my lady sing— But keep, where'er she stray True-love blossoming.
THE SHIPWRECK OF CAMOENS.
BY EMMA C. EMBURY.
Clouds gathered o'er the dark blue sky, The sun waxed dim and pale, And the music of the waves was changed To the plaintive voice of wail; And fearfully the lightning flashed Around the ship's tall mast, While mournfully through the creaking shrouds Came the sighing of the blast.
With pallid cheek the seamen shrank Before the deepening gloom; For they gazed on the black and boiling sea As 'twere a yawning tomb; But on the vessel's deck stood one With proud and changeless brow; Nor pain, nor terror was in the look He turned to the gulf below.
And calmly to his arm he bound His casket and his sword; Unheeding, though with fiercer strength The threatening tempest roared; Then stretched his sinewy arms and cried: "For me there yet is hope, The limbs that have spurned a tyrant's chain With the stormy wave may cope.
"Now let the strife of nature rage, Proudly I yet can claim, Where'er the waters may bear me on, My freedom and my fame." The dreaded moment came too soon, The sea swept madly on, Till the wall of waters closed around, And the noble ship was gone.