in the wreck of her magnificence,With eye prophetic, she foresaw the ruin
Of the proud capital of all the world.
She saw the quickening symptoms of rebellion
Among the nations, and she caught their cry
For freedom and for vengeance!
Hark! the Goth
Is thundering at the gate, His reckless sword
Leaps from the scabbard, eager to vindicate
The cause of the oppressed. A thousand years
The sun has witnessed in his daily course
The tyranny of Rome, now crushed forever.
The mighty mass of her usurped dominion,
By its own magnitude at last dissevered,
Is crumbling into fragments; and the shades
Of long-forgotten generations shriek
With fiendish glee over the yawning gulf
Of her perdition.
TEMPER LIFE'S EXTREMES
'Tis wise, in summer-warmth, to look before,
To the keen-nipping winter; it is good,
In lifeful hours, to lay aside some store
Of thought, to leaven the spirit's duller mood;
To mould the sodded dyke, in sunny hour,
Against the coming of the wasteful flood;
Still tempering Life's extremes, that Wo no more
May start abrupt in Joy's sweet neighborhood.
If Day burst sudden from the bars of Night,
Or with one plunge leaped down the sheer abyss,
Painful alike were darkness and the light,
Bearing fixed war through shifting victories;
But sweet their bond, where peaceful twilight lingers,
Weaving the rosy with the sable fingers.
THE CRUISE OF THE RAKER
CHAPTER V
The report of the pistol fired by Julia had also been heard upon the pirate brig. To Florette it gave assurance of the safety of the fair fugitive. The pirate sprang to his feet, forgetful of his wound, but fell back helpless upon the companion-way, and soon relapsed into his former thoughtful state, supposing the sound had come from the deck of the Raker, though it had seemed much too near and distinct to appear possible that such was the case.
The escape of Julia was not discovered until the following morning. The wrath of the pirate was fearfully vindictive. Even Florette became alarmed when he fiercely accused her of some share in the disappearance of the captive girl. This she tremblingly denied, suggesting the opinion that Julia must have jumped overboard, in her despair, induced by the threats of the pirate. The loss of the boat was also noticed, but not connected with the escape of Julia, it being supposed that it had been carelessly fastened. As a very natural consequence of his anger, the pirate sought some person on whom he could vent its fury.
"Call aft the other woman," shouted he, "unless she, too, has jumped overboard."
A grim smile was interchanged between the men who heard this order. John's true sex had not been long kept concealed after he had reached the pirate brig, and he had nearly fallen a victim to the rage the unpleasant discovery excited in the men, but his ludicrous and abject expressions of terror, though they awoke no emotions of pity, yet excited the merriment of his captors, and turned their anger into laughter. A man's garments were thrown to him, in which he speedily equipped himself, being indeed in no slight degree relieved by the change. Since that time he had kept himself as much aloof as possible from the crew, anxiously and fearfully expectant of some sudden catastrophe, either that his brains would be blown out without affording him an opportunity to expostulate, or that he would be called upon to walk the plank.
He was roused by a heavy hand laid upon his shoulder.
"O dear, don't," cried John.
"The captain has sent word for'ard arter you, and faith ye had betther be in a hurry, for he's a savage when he's mad."
"O! now I've got to do it."
"Do what?"
"Why walk the plank to be sure."
"Arrah, jewel! don't be onaisy now."
"Wont I's, don't you think?"
"Not a bit of it, darling. I think he will be afther running you up to the yard-arm."
"But I can't run up it."
"Ha! ha! but come along, honey."
Half dragging John after him, the sailor led him to the quarter-deck.
"Here's the lady, captain, an' faith she's a swate one."
The truth of the case had already been explained to the pirate.
"You cowardly fool," said he, "did you expect to escape by such a subterfuge? Pat, run him up to the yard-arm."
"Yes, captain, and that will be a relaif to him, for he was mighty afraid he'd have to walk the plank."
"He was? well then he shall."
The vindictiveness of the pirate commander, who had only changed the mode of John's death because he thought that by so doing he should render it more fearful and bitter to the victim, was the means of saving the poor cockney's life. So do revenge and malice often overreach themselves.
A long plank was laid out over the side of the brig and John commanded to walk out on it. He showed a strong disinclination to obeying, but a huge pistol placed against his forehead quickly influenced his decision, and with a cry of anguish he stepped out upon it. As the board tipped he turned to spring back to the brig, but slipping up, fell upon the board, which he pulled after him into the water.
"Fool," cried the captain to one of his men, "what did you let the board loose for, he will float now till the chase picks him up – fire into him."
A dozen balls were fired at John, and it seems he was hit, for he let go the board and sunk.
"There, captain, he's done for."
The brig by this time had reached a considerable distance from the place where John had been committed to the deep, and when he rose to the surface, as he soon did, he was out of danger from their shot.
"O dear!" cried he, "I shan't ever get ashore; I never could swim much."
The waves threw him against the plank.
"O! a shark! a shark!" shouted John, "now don't;" and he grasped hold of the plank in a frenzy of fear. He soon discovered the friendly aid it would afford him, and held on to it with the tenacity of despair.
In less than half an hour the Raker came up. John was noticed from its deck, and a brawny tar seizing a rope and taking two or three turns of it round his left arm sprang overboard to rescue the half unconscious cockney.
