Away! on the glist’ning plain we go, With our steely feet so bright; Away! for the north winds keenly blow And winter’s out to-night.
With the stirring shout of the joyous rout To the ice-bound stream we hie; On the river’s breast, where snow flakes rest, We’ll merrily onward fly!
Our fires flame high; by their midnight glare We will wheel our way along; And the white woods dim, and the frosty air, Shall ring with the skater’s song.
With a crew as bold as ever was told For the wild and daring deed, What can stay our flight by the fire’s red light, As we move with lightning speed.
We heed not the blast who are flying as fast As deer o’er the Lapland snow; When the cold moon shines on snow-clad pines And wintry breezes blow.
The cheerful hearth, in the hall of mirth, We have gladly left behind— For a thrilling song is borne along On the free and stormy wind.
Our hearts beating warm—we’ll laugh at the storm When it comes in a fearful rage— “While with many a wheel on the ringing steel A riotous game we will wage.”
By the starry light of a frosty night We trace our onward way; While on the ground with a splintering sound The frost goes forth at play.
Then away! to the stream, in the moonlight’s beam, For the night it waneth fast, And the silent tread of the ghostly dead At the midnight hour hath passed. H. B. T.
Ay, now I am in Arden; the more fool I; when I was at home I was in a better place; but Travelers must be content. AS YOU LIKE IT.
BY THE AUTHOR OF “PILOT,” “RED ROVER,” “TWO ADMIRALS,” “WING-AND-WING,” “MILES WALLINGFORD,” &c.
[Entered, according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1846, by J. Fenimore Cooper, in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States, for the Northern District of New York.]
At the piping of all hands, When the judgment signal’s spread— When the islands and the land, And the seas give up their dead, And the south and the north shall come; When the sinner is dismayed, And the just man is afraid, Then heaven be thy aid, Poor Tom. BRAINARD.
The people had now a cessation from their toil. Of all the labor known to sea-faring men, that of pumping is usually thought to be the most severe. Those who work at it have to be relieved every minute, and it is only by having gangs to succeed each other, that the duty can be done at all with any thing like steadiness. In the present instance, it is true, that the people of the Swash were sustained by the love of gold, but glad enough were they when Mulford called out to them to “knock off, and turn in for the night.” It was high time this summons should be made, for not only were the people excessively wearied, but the customary hours of labor were so far spent, that the light of the moon had some time before begun to blend with the little left by the parting sun. Glad enough were all hands to quit the toil; and two minutes were scarcely elapsed ere most of the crew had thrown themselves down, and were buried in deep sleep. Even Spike and Mulford took the rest they needed, the cook alone being left to look out for the changes in the weather. In a word, everybody but this idler was exhausted with pumping and bailing, and even gold had lost its power to charm, until nature was recruited by rest.