Communicated by Mr Henry Thomson

Oh! heard ye at midnight the tempest loud roaring?
 Oh! saw ye the ocean that burst from its bed?
Or the gay gallant vessel that broke from her mooring?
 Oh! heard ye the wails, and the shrieks of the dead?

All hush’d are the waves — and a hope may be cherish’d,
 That once more the brave vessel may ride on the main,
But alas! hapless kindred of those who have perish’d
 Ye never shall hear their lov’d voices again.

Proud Man! — Thou are heir but to trouble and sorrow,
 Since thy breath thus depends on the wind & the tide;
This moment’s thy own but whose is tomorrow,
 The Being who made thee, alone can decide.

Written in the middle of a very tempestuous night