VENGEFUL thy motion,

O shivering Ocean,

Troubled and gray with the storms that are past,

As some cynic sage,

Hoary with age,

Cheers not, but chills e'en the love found at last.

Mock not and rail not,

Moan not and wail not,

The rocks thou art lashing will ever be fast.

They tenderly wondered,

No more to be sundered; -

Betrothed, they looked forth on a vista of love;

Soft beam her eyes on him,

Deep as her trust in him, -

Eyes of the color that comes from above.

Fond are her eyes of blue,

Their light of bright Hope the hue,

And yet of the sea that with drear monotone,

Bewailing the death of life,

Love's flight from worldly strife,

Mocks its blue waves with its ne'er-ending moan.

With worshipping awe of her,

Fearing not death for her,

Holy the time when two souls flow as one.

Shun not the reef, my boat,

Light o'er the billows float,

Thy journey is endless and scarcely begun.

Now, while he bends to her,

Reverently tends to her

All that he hopes for on earth and above,

Then first she turns from him,

Muttering a prayer for him, -

Sacred the prayer of a maiden's pure love!

Now on the reefs they float, -

Helpless the little boat, -

The setting sun pierces the breakers so grim;

Wavers a holy light

Over their faces bright,

Bright with the prayer of their marriage hymn.

Soothing thy motion,

O trembling Ocean,

Heaving with love for the dear ones at rest;

Loving, not hating,

Praying and waiting,

Surely they left this poor world at its best; -

Never thy voice is sad,

Always thy murmur glad,

Speaking of peace that is found in thy breast.

S.