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While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy tempests blow. .
The spirit of your fathers
Britannia needs no bulwark, —
The meteor flag of England
A TUFT OF GREEN MOSS IN THE AFRICAN DESERT.
ON MUNGO PARK'S FINDING A TUFT OF GREEN MOSS IN THE AFRICAN DESERT.- Edinburgh
The sun had reached its midday height,
On Afric's burning land;
Was filled with glowing sand.
No mighty rock upreared its head
In all the weary plain;
But one wide, sandy main.
Dauntless and daring was the mind
Those deserts to explore ;
In wilds untrod before.
And, ah! shall we less daring show,
Than ever heroes dream;
Whence flows salvation's stream?
Let peril, nakedness, and sword,
Our burning zeal oppose;
A TUFT OF GREEN MOSS IN THE AFRICAN DESERT. 133
Yet, martyr-like, we 'll lift the voice,
And blossom as the rose.
Sad, faint, and weary, on the sand
Covered his burning head;
All nature seemed as dead.
One tiny tuft of moss alone,
Fixed his delighted gaze;
His lips o'erflowed with praise.
O, shall not He who keeps thee green,
Thy fellow-exile save?
Me from a scorching grave.
The heaven-sent plant new hope inspired,
And bore him safe along,
Lulled by the negro's song.
Thus we, in this world's wilderness,
Seem undisturbed to reign,
LANDING OF THE PILGRIM FATHERS.
May faint because we feel alone,
And join our homeward strain.
Yet often, in the bleakest wild
• Expectant of the skies,
Meets our admiring eyes.
From gazing on the tender flower,
Hath all its beauty given;
And brilliant hues of heaven.
Our drooping faith, revived by sight,
New hope distends the breast;
And seek the pilgrim's rest.
LANDING OF THE PILGRIM FATHERS. –
The breaking waves dashed high
On a stern and rock-bound coast,
Their giant branches tost;
And the heavy night hung dark
The hills and waters o'er,
On the wild New England shore.
Not as the conqueror comes,
They, the true-hearted, came; Not with the roll of stirring drums,
And the trumpet that sings of fame;
Not as the flying come,
In silence and in fear, — They shook the depths of the desert's gloom
With their hymns of lofty cheer.
Amidst the storm they sang,
And the stars heard and the sea ! And the sounding aisles of the dim wood rang
To the anthems of the free!
The ocean-eagle soared
From his nest by the white wave's foam, And the rocking pines of the forest roared,
This was their welcome home!
There were men with hoary hair
Amidst that pilgrim-band; —
Away from their childhood's land ?
There was woman's fearless eye,
Lit by her deep love's truth;
And the fiery heart of youth.