The Portland daily press., 1864-08-27

SPRING came with bursting buds and flowers,
And all revived in natures bowers;
The tuneful birds tho wing
Earth's sweetest flowers were blossoming.
mother, DER the blue waves foam,
Pinned for her dear New England home
In cuba's fair and sunny Isle
'Naught could her weary hours beguile;
Tho DER her the fragrant breeze,
Borne from the snowy orange trees
And perfumes from all the bowers
She heedeth not their brightest flowers
But longed to cross the oceans foam,
To reach her Forest City home.
She loves tn Antilles brightest gem
Vale yumriA its sunny glen
She loves the fair tnbe-rose know,
That chimes Its yespers sweet and owi
She loves the perfumed roses there.
Yes, loves this Eden lslo so fair,
Where fre-nies in the dusk of night,
Like stars lash forth their glimmering light
But loves still the violet blue.
The snow-drop May-lower. daisy too
Our own spring flowers, she longs to see,
All fresh with dew from of the lea;
As palms lean towards the god of day
So turns her heart to home away.
Her youngest pet aud frst-born child,
with her the absent hours have wied;
Still no true happiness or joy.
Without her absent girl and boy.
She signs to the heaying main,
And see her happy home again,
The husband, wife, and daughters dear,
Are bounding DER the waters clear
The White Ship poughs its rapid way,
Amid the graceful peariy spray,
And many happy words pass ronnd.
On ship-board from the homevard bound,
On mothers sweet music swells,
ofdancing and bright sea-shells.
She says, what happiness to
To glide 30 swiftly DER the sea;
In every breath she breathes this sigh
! Fine for my own native sky
For there await impatiently,
Loved yearning hearts to welcome me.
Oh! White Ship dash aside the foam,
And bear me to my Sweet Home.
Soon to her longing eye is seen
Bright Cascos shores enrolled in green
And to her thoughts she uttcrance gave:
II love thee-blue Atlantic wave
Thou'st borne swiftly safely DER.
Thy bosom, to my native shore.
Our Forest CITY meets my view,
Its spires rise high in azure blue;
Furi now White Ship thy snowy sail
No longer futter in the gale.
Hark. welcome voices from the shorc
From loving friends-our voyage is DER,
Yes White Ship, safely DER the main
Thouasi borne me TO my home again.
One week Of happiness passed
Too bright, too beautiful to last,
Twas midnight, and an angel came,
And while she slept he breathed her name
Fond mother wake and hear this cry
60 forth the Bridegroom cometh nigh,
And leave this world of sin and woe
And to the land of love we'll go.-
The mother woke-and breathed sigh;
Alas I've reached by home to die;
Dear childreu-must leave you now,
And 70 the fell destroyer bow
He whom | We loved since chi dhood's day.
Must tread alone LIES cheerless way;
Aud viii the Black Ship waft me ocr
In safety-to the shining shore,
II comes ii comes DER deaths dark sea.
IL anchors now, and waits for thee,
Its signal Blooms along the shore,
The waves dash high with deafening roar;
Tho darkencd is thy starry sky,
The star of Hope shines clear and high:
Sweet music falls upon her ear
Such strains as only angels hear
Al midnight sorrows pail spread
And children wept mother dead;
Yes, wept and cried In agony,
This bitter cup. oh pass from me.
Black Ship Oh leave her-we implore,
And we Of Heaven will ask no more.
When ended was this fearful night,
Her spirit pure had taken flight;
When calmly broke the Sabbath morn
Another saint in Heaven born.
Our blessed book Of 'scommon Prayer
Laid open by her bedside theTei-
Dearly beloved in the Lord.
Come to the table Of our God"
Ths sweet communion service read
And she numbered with the dead,
She family breathed her hast Good Night,
Ere deaths dark angel dimmed her sight
The Black Ship bears its precious freight
In safety to the Golden Gate,
But while deep grief your hearts oerwhelm,
Faith points Saviour at the helm.
The sea Of Death so drear to sight,
Is now aglow with Heavenly light
Suppress your tears-no longer sigh;
This loved one prepared to die
Forever sing. Atlantic wave,
requiem Ger the mothers grave
For the dearest thing in their memory,
Is the White Ship on thy bright blue sea,
Portland, 1854, MAJ
"A beautiful valley-also a river which springs fro
bearing the same name The banks Of this river are
cred with the most beautiful and gorgeous flowers
bloom perpetually and grow uxuriantly that in n
places they form perfect arbours There i trad
concerning this valley which thus Al the iii
tue indian slaughter they threw themselves from the
cipcs excaiming in terror n q e. Hence the nan,
ffhe Spanish madens believe the tube-rose at the
sfsespers, gives forth low aud sacred melody.
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