THE following lines, which graphically describe the rescue of a shipwrecked crew by one of the Life-boats of the NATIONAL LIFE-BOAT INSTITUTION, were written by WILLIAM POTTER, a coast- guardman and coxswain of the Cahore Life-boat, on the shipwreck and rescue of the crew of the Austrian barque Nanta, lost on a bank off Cahore, in county Wexford, on the 18th January, 1877.

The Nanta left Glasgow on the 10th Janu- ary, bound to Lussino, with 641 tons of coals and 50 tons of pig iron on board.

At 6.30 A.M. on the 18th she struck on the Long Bank, and at 8.30 on the Busk Bank, near Cahore. At daylight, through the heavy storm and mist, the barque was observed from Cahore to strike on the bank and show signals of distress. Under the directions of the late Captaia D'OLIER GEORGE, the Hon. Secretary of the Cahore Branch of the NATIONAL LIFE-BOAT INSTI- TUTION, the Life-boat of the station was launched, in charge of POTTER, her cox- swain, when after four hours' incessant toil she succeeded in carrying off the whole of the crew, thirteen in number.

Owing to the heavy sea breaking over the ship, which was lying stern on to the sea, the Life-boat could not get alongside, so the anchor was let go, and the boat veered astern under the mainyard, from which the crew, as opportunity offered, swung themselves into her; the sea during the whole time- breaking with great fury over both ship and boat. The rescue of the crew was considered to be the most courageous which had ever taken place on that coast, and is in these homely verses faithfully delineated.

Fierce blew the storm, and the rain fell in torrents, As at daybreak I sped to the shore To scan with my glass o'er those treacherous currents That sweep round the banks off Cahore.

Ere long through the gloom and the mist I espied A ship rushing forth to her grave, And the flag of distress then I also descried ; 'Twas to signal the Life-boat to save.

I gave the alarm, " There's a ship in distress, I saw her dark hull strike the bank.

Bear a hand, man the boat, use the utmost express, The weather is stormy and dank." Our Secretary shouts, "Bear a, hand, tie your belts, men, One moment's delay may prove fatal," Whilst he manfully pulls at the ropes, and cries " Haul, men, That ship 'gainst those waves cannot battle; Come, bear a hand, Coxswain, is your gear in the boat?" " Oh yes, Sir, all's snug in her now." " Bear a hand, bear a hand, men, and get her afloat, Take this rope to the pier from her bow." Soon the Life-boat is launched and each man grasps his oar, " Give way, my brave men, for the ship." The signal's then given to those stationed on shore The ropes of the Life-boat to slip.

They tug at the oars, every muscle they strain ; But the tide is against us, we see; And also the storm and the cold pelting rain, As well as the heave of the sea.

Slacks the tide now a little,* I'm sure we gain ground; Why the flagstaff's now on with the tree : Give way, my brave men, ere those seamen are drowned.

See yon fragments of wreck pass our lee.

Ah! there goes a rocket, mark its course through the air, It falls 'tween the ship and the land.

What now are their feelings? why, of utter despair, They know not that help's nigh at hand.

What joy fill'd each breast, when to seaward careering, The red, white, and blue boat they view! To them like an angel of mercy appearing, She revives again hopes 'mongst the crew.

All's activity now, they prepare for the spring, And ropes to the yard's quarter fasten; Now all being prepared for the dangerous swing, They back to their shelter fast hasten.

The breakers we enter, they rise on our weather; Look out 1 keep her head to the sea; Let's meet them, my lads; pull the blue oars together, Ere we're forced on their crests far to lee.

We meet them, they strike us, they quite fill the Life-boat, To the seas they slew round her quarter; They stun some strong men, and the ropes about all float, But free is she soon from the water.

Give way, now's your time, let your Courage prove true, There's a slant, we near the wreck fast.

Now ease ou your white oars, and pull up the blue, Your anchor get ready to cast.

We reach our position, outside of the stranger, The anchor let go, back astern.

Be cool, men 1 be cool, men 1 we'll soon brave the danger, And quick to the shore will return.

Back astern, there's a life-buoy thrown o'er the ship's side, A rope attached to it I see; Stand by to catch, 'twill shoot here with the tide That's eddying from under her lee.

Grappled quick is the life-buoy, hauled out of the water, And soon are our ropes all attached To the dark strangor's bow and to her lee quarter, And one to her midships made fast.

As the space 'twixt the ship and the Life-boat decreases, Increases the danger tenfold, For the waves clasp the wreck in their direful embraces, Tear through her bulwarks and enter her hold.

Anon on the crest of the waves the boat rises; Again she's engulfed 'neath her lee; But the self-freeing beauty those waves now despises, Her bow being turned to the sea.

Now a Greek," from the land where Byron was buried, In frenzy springs into the tide, And is well-nigh indeed to eternity hurried By being killed 'tween the boat and ship's side.

Catch him quick ere he sinks, see that cut on his head.

With a strong arm he's grasped whilst afloat, Then assisted by others, whilst freely he bled, Half stunned he's flung into the boat.

We now plumb the mainyard, we hail them to swing, But the danger the ship's crew alarms; Till one man gains courage and makes the dread spring, And drops midst the Life-boatmen's arms.

And thus one by one they drop from the ropes, As the boat rises high on the water, Till they're saved, they're all saved, and low buoyant our hopes As we haul off the boat from the quarter! The seas we strive cheat, haul ahead, then astern; Fast still are our ropes to the ship; With your hatchets stand by ! when the order is given To cut and the anchor to trip.

Look out! for this sea 'twill break on us with fury, Haul well taut your hawser, belay; Stoop low, for your lives, men, hurry, lads! hurry! And make not a moment's delay.

With grandeur terrific it coils o'er the boat's bow, Sweeps o'er her midships, bursts over her stern.

Now broken are oars by the might of the strong blow, And we're forced on Its crest fast astern.

Be smart, now it's smooth, quick your spare oars, get ready, Cut the ropes, and the anchor weigh fast; Now give way together, be steady, men, steady, A few strokes and the great danger's past.

Give way, my brave men, ere the sea strikes her broadside, Fast forced is she now through the water; Now ease, lads, you may! for the breakers we're outside, See, they burst just to lee off our quarter.

Now the dread bank is crost, and our course shaped for land, The poor perished seamen grasp each Life- boatman's hand, And we're told that they're Austrians from a land of the brave, That at life's risk we've saved from a watery grave.

We soon reach the shore, where excitement is great; They learn all are saved, and with joy their hearts beat.

We spring from the boat, they give cheer after cheer; Her brave work is done, she's moored by the pier.