Virginia Argus. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1796-1816, 1815-11-25
.MIsCELLANY.


he FOL ovmg elegant lines, by JoHs ID WoIr ESQ
otBcist0l.. Y. 4. were published in the Ckreni-
Gle some years since. The subject is one which
viii at all times interest the feelings of The
American people. Though written long be
fore the latewar, vet the events OF that glorious
conflict have proved the gallant sailor to b,
every way worthy of the sympa,hies OF the a
bic and benevolent poet. The third stanza j
particularly poetical; the fourth iinusual
wild and romantic. The two concluding line
inay well be styled prophetic. The best Com
neEt upon them has been offered by the alrnos
lt,ibroker series ofvictories which have crown
ed the efforts of our brave tnrs, and Tie grea
JispaiSty IF The .9ner-ican loss cembaed .sit
Thar q the enemy, Bost. Pah '''
GR.7YE 0FIIfE IMPRESSED S.7ILoR
HIGH on the cliff the maniac stood,
And watsh'd old oceans heaymgfiood
Beneath her feet the briny wave,
Curi'd DER the shipwrecs'd SAILORS grave:
Loose on the gale her tresses !wsvd,
Dark rolPd herr eve, while thus she ray'd;
Where yoh white curling billow
With wild commotion sweeps,
Deep, on hisrocky pillow,
My muchlov'd sailor sleeps.
Al dark and lonely is his OCEAN bed,
Ger his grave -
No Hover shall wave
No pitying friend shall weep
Where shall the traveller point and say,
There rests the gallant saiior's clay
roor sailor boy, thy grave is cold and deep;
While teinpests howl,
And pillows roll,
And burst above thy head
Hard IS my sailors rocky pillow,
Chill DER his slunbers bursts the billow,
While Albion's blood-stained banners play
triumphant Ger his sleeping clay.
90 let me seek his oozy grave,
And nisome sea-maid's peafly cave
Soft make his bed -
I'll pluck the fairest, sweetest flowers
ihat bloom in Neptune's coral bowers
To deck his head
Choicely I'll plat the sea-ereen vest.
10 mantle Ger his faithful breast,
For COLDS his sleep:
Without shroud, the demons gave
My sailor TO his watery grave,
That grave so deep:
Hard, sailor, is thy ROCKY, pillow,
ThLe Ger thy slumbers bursts the billow.s
The maniac ceas'd. The storm of night
How'd Ger the dark and awful beight.
The lightning burst around her head /;
Quick to the utmost verge she sped,
And look'd below---l need no more
Ere morn, the tempest ceas'd to roar:
Bright rose The slin-his earliest ray
Smird on the maniac's lifeless clay,
Her form the fisherman descri'd.
Half buried in the sand,
He say'd from the whelming tide.
And bore it from the strand
Where the mourniuI willows wave.
On the green bank near,
He kindly delv'd the MANAGES crave.
And Ger it dropp'da tear.
Rest, hapless boy, beneath the bilIow
Poor maniac, sleep beneath yon willow,
Just HeaveH viii one day demand
Your 6Iooa df Britdi,fs hureisreus handy
Newspaper printing is business recurring
he most intense labor, and the closest applics
ion, beth of body and mind Ii is a business des
ructiye of health and case; frequently cnts shor,
ne thread of existence, and IS bar TO every
ieasure of life Do not those, then, who devote
themselves to its duties--who sacrifice health
ieasure, and even life itself, to the benefit Of
heir fellow-citizens-do they not merit their re.
DdrH-2 We know I'VE addresq ,aoso-,l1~ 49,.