THE MEETING OF THE SHIPS.
“We take each other by the hand, and we exchange a few words and
looks of kindness, and we rejoice together for a few short moments;
and then days, months, years intervene, and we see and know nothing
of each other.”—Washington Irving.
Two barks met on the deep mid-sea,
When calms had still'd the tide;
A few bright days of summer glee
There found them side by side.
And voices of the fair and brave
Rose mingling thence in mirth;
And sweetly floated o'er the wave
The melodies of earth.
Moonlight on that lone Indian main
Cloudless and lovely slept;
While dancing step, and festive strain
Each deck in triumph swept.
And hands were link'd, and answering eyes
With kindly meaning shone;
Oh! brief and passing sympathies,
Like leaves together blown.
A little while such joy was cast
Over the deep's repose,
Till the loud singing winds at last
Like trumpet music rose.
And proudly, freely on their way
The parting vessels bore;
In calm or storm, by rock or bay,
To meet—oh, never more!
Never to blend in victory's cheer,
To aid in hours of woe;
And thus bright spirits mingle here,
Such ties are formed below.
