There was no bread within the wreck,
     And water we had none,
  Yet he murmured not, and cheered me
     When my last hopes were gone;
  But I saw him waste and waste away,
     And his rosy cheek grow wan.

  Still on we drove,
     I knew not where,
  For many nights and days,
     We were too weak to raise a sail,
  Had there been one to raise.

  Still on we went, as the west wind drove,
     On, on, o’er the pathless tide;
  And I lay in a sleep, ’twixt life and death,
     And the child was at my side.

  And it chanced as we were drifting on
     Amid the great South Sea,
  An English vessel passed us by
     That was sailing cheerily;
  Unheard by me, that vessel hailed
     And asked what we might be.

  The young child at the cheer rose up,
     And gave an answering word,
  And they drew him from the drifting wreck
     As light as is a bird.

  They took him gently in their arms,
      And put again to sea:—­
  ‘Not yet! not yet!’ he feebly cried,
     ‘There was a man with me.’

  Again unto the wreck they came,
     Where, like one dead, I lay,
  And a ship-boy small had strength enough
     To carry me away.

  Oh, joy it was when sense returned
     That fair, warm ship to see. 
  And to hear the child within his bed
     Speak pleasant words to me!

  I thought at first that we had died,
     And all our pains were o’er,
  And in a blessed ship of Heaven
     Were sailing to its shore.

  But they were human forms that knelt
     Beside our bed to pray,
  And men, with hearts most merciful,
     Did watch us night and day.

  ’Twas a dismal tale I had to tell
     Of wreck and wild distress,
  But, even then, I told to none
     The captain’s wickedness.

  For I loved the boy, and I could not cloud
     His soul with a sense of shame:—­
  ’Twere an evil thing, thought I, to blast
     A sinless orphan’s name! 
  So he grew to be a man of wealth,
     And of honourable fame.

  And in after years, when he had ships,
     I sailed with him the sea,
  And in all the sorrow of my life
     He was a son to me;
  And God hath blessed him every where
     With a great prosperity.

The Amulet for 1830.

* * * * *

THE LITTLE MAJOR’S LOVE ADVENTURE.

You must know, when I was in the 18th light dragoons, I was quartered in Canterbury; and having got some introductory letters, I contrived to make out a pleasant time enough.  One of my visiting-houses was old Tronson’s the banker’s—­devilish agreeable family—­four pretty girls—­all flirted—­painted on velvet—­played the harp—­sang Italian, and danced as if