The Barren Rock. A lonely rock On the sea-shore stood, Its head to heaven, Its base in the flood: The dews of the morning Bath'd its brow, And the moon-beam play'd On its breast of snow. The summer breezes And the sun shone on it- There came not a leaf, There came not a spray, Nor the heather brown, Nor the lichen grayThe simplers came not To pick with care The healing buds Of the balsam there. What ails thee, thou rock, That still in vain The spring returns With its jocund train, So richly dight, So gaily sped, And finds no wreath On thy sullen head. I look'd again And the waters grewThey reach'd its base, They reach'd its browAgain and again, With fearful shock, The billows broke O'er the lonely rock. But it trembled not As it pass'd them through; And it rose in smiles As the waves withdrew, "Tis well-and so O'er some beside Adversity flows With as rough a tideIt rifles the heart Of the joys it bore, And it comes so oft They will grow no more. 8 But it leaves it firm, Serene to stand On the cold sea-strand. The Three Fishers. Three fishers went sailing away to the west, Each thought on the woman who loved him the best, Three wives sat up in the lighthouse tower, Three corpses lay out on the shining sands, For men must work, and women must weep, And the sooner its over, the sooner to sleep, And good-bye to the bar and its moaning. The Tower of Bottreaux. "The Church at Boscastle, in Cornwall, has no bells, while the neighbouring tower of Tintagel contains a fine peal of six. It is said that a peal of bells for Boscastle, formerly Bottreaux. was once cast at a foundry on the Continent, and that the ship which was bringing them went down in sight of the church-yard. The Cornish legend relative to the event is embodied in the following verses.- Book of Days. Tintagel bells ring o'er the tide, Thus saith their pealing chime : But why are Bottreaux's echoes still? Should be her answering chime : Should echo on the blast. The ship rode down with courses free, Her sheets were loose, her anchor stored, The pilot heard his native bells It was his marriage chime: "Thank God, thou whining knave, on land, But thank at sea the steerman's hand," The captain cries above the gale, "Thank the good ship and ready sail." "Come to thy God in time," Sad gave the boding chime: "Come to thy God at last," Boomed heavy on the blast. Up rose the sea as if it heard "Come to thy God in time," Swung deep the funeral chime : Grace, mercy, kindness past, |