SONNET—THE SEA.
BY A. L. B. M.D.
| There's silent grandeur in the boundless waste Of Ocean's bosom when the winds are still, And quiet beauty, like the moonbeam traced In lengthened shadows on some snow-clad hill; There's fiercer grandeur in the chainless sea, When the storm-spirit wakes it from its rest, And the high waves are dashing wild and free, As the white foam they bear upon their breast. The thunder's voice is louder on the sea, The lightning flashes with a wilder glare, And landsmen know not of the dangers, he, Whose home is on the Ocean's wave, must dare; Yet it is pictured in its mighty roar, And in the wrecks which strew the rock-bound shore. |
For the Southern Literary Messenger.
SKETCHES OF THE HISTORY
And Present Condition of Tripoli, with some accounts of the other Barbary States.
No. IV.
Egypt was then in an unsettled state, and a few details respecting its situation may be permitted, although not absolutely connected with the present subject.