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287
THE “TIGER.”
[_]
A letter from Odessa of June 16th states:—“A few days ago the English steamer Vesuvius ran into these roads and brought the wife of Captain Giffard, to whom General Osten- Sacken gave the permission, with a quarantine guardian, to visit the grave of her husband, who commanded the ill-fated steamer “Tiger.” — She remained twenty-four hours collecting particulars of her husband's dying moments, which were those of a hero meeting his death in his country's cause.”
Beneath Odessa's foreland,
Washed by the Russian wave,
Shattered and black an English ship
Rots in her sandy grave.
The sea-shell clogs her cannon,
The sea-worm eats her oak,
And the sea-weeds dank cling to the plank
Whence English thunders spoke.
Washed by the Russian wave,
Shattered and black an English ship
Rots in her sandy grave.
The sea-shell clogs her cannon,
The sea-worm eats her oak,
And the sea-weeds dank cling to the plank
Whence English thunders spoke.
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Behind Odessa's foreland,
Under the Russian sky,
That noble vessel's noble chief
In bloody grave doth lie.
Not bravely in fair battle
Cut dow~ upon his deck,
But driving lost on an iron coast,
And shot on a helpless wreck.
Under the Russian sky,
That noble vessel's noble chief
In bloody grave doth lie.
Not bravely in fair battle
Cut dow~ upon his deck,
But driving lost on an iron coast,
And shot on a helpless wreck.
Unto Odessa's foreland
Who comes for vengeance due?
A legion bold in steel and gold—
A fleet with seamen true?
Oh shame! no sworn avengers,
But a gentle lady there,
Sitting alone by an uncarved stone
Weeping her wifely tear.
Who comes for vengeance due?
A legion bold in steel and gold—
A fleet with seamen true?
Oh shame! no sworn avengers,
But a gentle lady there,
Sitting alone by an uncarved stone
Weeping her wifely tear.
Oh, black Odessan foreland,
Only his widow there!
Oh, lonely, lonely sepulchre,
Only one falling tear!
Why roars no rage of cannon?
Why rings no levelled gun?
With sword and spear—not sigh and tear—
England should mourn her son.
Only his widow there!
289
Only one falling tear!
Why roars no rage of cannon?
Why rings no levelled gun?
With sword and spear—not sigh and tear—
England should mourn her son.
She to that fatal foreland
Came o'er the stormy wave;
Shall women for the one they love
Alone be bold and brave?
How, England, will thy captains
Die bravely in thy strife,
When Giffard's rest no mourner blest
But a woman and a wife?
Came o'er the stormy wave;
Shall women for the one they love
Alone be bold and brave?
How, England, will thy captains
Die bravely in thy strife,
When Giffard's rest no mourner blest
But a woman and a wife?
Far from Odessa's foreland
His vessel's jack was ta'en;
Oh! for the death its champion died
Win back that flag again.
Plant it with shot and sabre
Above the Russian's best;
And the conquering shout, as the cross flaunts out,
Shall bring him better to rest.
His vessel's jack was ta'en;
Oh! for the death its champion died
Win back that flag again.
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Above the Russian's best;
And the conquering shout, as the cross flaunts out,
Shall bring him better to rest.
“The Press.”
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