Harkt Harkl 'tis the boom of a distant gun, And the stoutest heart doth quail, For there's death maybe in the raging sea To him who would dare the gale.

But the wind may shriek till it crack each cheek, And the sea prove a watery grave, There are brave lads to-night who will challenge its might In the thought of a life to save.

Kef rain: Bend to the oar with a sturdy will, Heedless of wind, or foam.

God speed the boat! keep her safely afloat, Bring the storm-warrior home.

'Tis a battle grim for a human limb— To wage, 'mid the tempest's gloom; In the landsman's breast is a fear confessed— They go, but to meet their doom! And the surf runs high on the dread lee shore, Where the wreck shows o'er the main; But the sight is a charm, giving strength to each arm, And they pull to the old refrain.

Refrain: Bend to the oar, etc.

Gallant storm-warrior, facing the danger, Risking thy life for the one in despair; Wrestling with Death for the storm-tossed and helpless, What shall reward for thy courage so rare ? Tho' the brave deeds of the past be forgotten— Lost in the future thine errands of love; They are inscribed to thy credit for ever By the Great Judge in the Log-Book above.

ABTHUB PHILIP COXFOBD.

(All rights reserved).

NOTICE.

The next number of the LIFE-BOAT JOURNAL will be published on the 1st November, 1899..