Bloomington herald. [volume] (Bloomington, I. T. [Iowa]) 1840-1849, 1841-05-07
From the Lancaster Inteligcncer & Journal
The Lost Bar4ue.
BY J. ERSKINE DOW

BY J. ERSKINE DOW.
The signing woods in splendor smile
AS evening showers her crimson glow;
But do they smile, who roam the while
Where pillows rave and breezcs blow
1t was wild evening in Autumn, when
a solitary Sloop of War was standing
down the Gulf Of Mexico, before the
breath Of Norther.
There is something soul-sickenng in
the prospect of riding out tempest at sea
in wind and wave-worn barque, when
the entrance of the destined port is at hand
and favorable tide only necessary to give
her ingress to haven of safety.-How
dismally sounds the blast amid the rigging
how dark and cherries appears the bo-
som of the deep, and how melancholy be-
comes the soul Of the mariner-Hope dies
within him as the hazy hills are hid from
view, and Sorrow comes with the dark>
ness of tempestuous night.
Amid the halls of thunder, beneath the
battle lanterns, the seamen are seen gath>
cred in little knots together, and the sem
tinel at the cabin door, wrapped in his ia
tigue coat, PAGES gloomily from side to
side, and thinks of his happy home, and
the pleasures of the gay parade. In the
cabin all is still, for the Captain in his
dreadnought stands by the weather horse
block on deck and endeavors to read the
mysteries of the shrouded heavens. The
gun room is silent also, solitary taper
CLEANS amid the increasing gloon, and the
hoarse crcaking of the rudder, as it moves
from side to side, and the dashing of the
water through its casing into the wards
room, adds to the uncertain wildness Of
the hour.
In the steerage--that Heaven and some
thing else, of man of war-the midship-
men have swung their hammocks byprory
and few figures wrapped in overcoats,
with glazed caps bridled unde: their chins,
sit bending over aged chart or an old
Bowdtch upon plain deal mess table,
that is dashed to stout staples in the deck
and which stands amid "the shock o. soup
plates and the crush of jugs" while per-
haps love sick Refer who has doubled
Cape Horn, and enjoyed the nameless de-
lights of Lima and Valparaiso, sits perch
ed up in a corner of the room upon mess
locker, scraping South American air up>
on the crazy carcase of Violin, or mur>
dering Spanish lovers serenade upon an
uLtuned and eccentric guitar, and ever and
anon mingling his own discordant tenor
with the doubtful melody of the instrument!
Every thing is damp and close on board,
and the windsail, as it reaches down to the
cockpit, plays like a pendulum in an old
Dutch clock, from side to side in the mar.
row hatchway. The light flares wildly,
the ship rocks like wounded duck upon
the wave, and plunges along her lightning
. like course, jarring, and creaking, and
grooming, and rafting from topmast head
to shot locker; camp stools and those sits
ting upon them, clothes lockers and mess
stores, quadrants, broadswords, and cock
ed hats, fiddle cases and spit,oons, Bows
bitches, parallel rules, dividers and old
boots, stockings without mates, and lucky
bags unmuzzled, tumble about in most
glorious confusion while the midshipmen
Of the first watch swings in his hammock
over head and dreams of Dock yard duty
"a dinner at chop house-and sea.
port belle. On Deck, the starboard watch
have been mustered, and are at their sta>
tons. The first Lieutenant and the Off
GERS ofthe Deck stand at the weather gang
way, watching the scowling storm /: and
the midshipmen of the watch pace along