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Like shooting stars, athwart the gloom The merchant-sails were sped ;

Yet oft, before ita midnight, doom, They mark'd the high mast head

Of that devoted vessel, tost

By winds and floods, now seen, now lost ; While every gun-fire spread

A dimmer flash, a fainter roar ;

— At length they saw, they heard no more.

There are to whom that ship was dear.

For love and kindred's sake ; When these the voice of Rumour hear»

Their inmost heart shall quake, Shall doubt, and fear, and wish, and grieve, Believe, and long to unbelievc.

But never cease to ache ; Still doom'd, in f-ad suspense, to bear The Hope that keeps alive Despair.

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