Chapter III: Part 3

Then a little speck grows clearer,
Draws--it seems but slowly--nearer,
Seen by those to whom 'tis dearer--
Known by them too well!
Brighter now the morn is growing,
Clearer, still, and clearer, throwing
Light upon the billows, shewing
'Tis no dream we tell.

Fast the fatal sands they're leaving;
Hail! the Life-boat, proudly cleaving,
Where the angry sea is heaving
Mountain-waves of foam.
Onward, homeward, quickly nearing,
'Mid the ringing, deaf'ning cheering,
Loving words of welcome hearing,
Greet the conquerors home.

Far away the wreck is lying;
But they bring, 'neath colours flying,
Five poor Frenchmen, spared from dying,
Safe to England's isle.
English hands they're warmly pressing,
English children they're caressing,
Asking, praying, Heaven's blessing,
With a tear and smile.

Simple words tell acts of daring--
Unknown heroes laurels wearing,
Brother-like all honour sharing,
Now and evermore.
Speed the Life-boat, England's daughters;
Bless her path across the waters;
Tell her gallant deeds of glory;
Spread the truthful, noble story,
Far from England's shore!

AUGUSTA A. L. MAGRA.

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