LOUD beat the treacherous breakers on the shore; The boiling waves like mountains rise on high, Seeming to vent their wild, tumultuous roar To the dark pall that erstwhile was the sky.

The billows, like a seething hell of foam, Circle the craft, all powerless to resist.

" Good God 1 they're lost I and all in sight of home." Baltimore House, Bradford.

Yet what is that, seen through the blinding mist? A cry goes up—" The Life-boat stems the wave, Manned by a fearless, stalwart, sturdy crew, Whose mission 'tis to risk their lives to save, And nobly they their gallant task pursue." Nor halt, nor rest, this rugged, hardy band, Till all nigh wrecked are safely brought to land.

CHAS F. FOBSHAW, LL.D..