Republican Herald

Poetry.
TO THE STORMY PETREL.
Written on board the ship Liverpool.
BY CH. C. BAROTEAU.
Bird of the sea and of the storm,
That lov'st the bounding billows foam,
Where dost thou hide thy tiny form,
Where may we seek to find thy home ?
The Linnet loves the hazle bush,
And sing around it all day long-
The Mock bird, and the speckled Thrush
Awake the green-wood with their song-
The Sparrow twitters in the morn,
At the first dawning of the day,
And round her dwelling in the thorn,
Warblest her sweet melodious lay:-
But thou, lone bird, o'er ocean's foam,
When winds are piping loud and high,
Forever roving, without a home,
Utterest a wild, peculiar cry
And dancing on the dashing spray,
In utter recklessness and glee,
Or flitting lightly far away
O'er the rough billows of the sea.
Loud roars the tempest through the air,
And shrill the wild winds whistle o'er us-
Weather and lee-we see thee there,
Or skimming o'er the wave before us.
Or if the sea be calm and still.
Precursor of the coming storm,
We deem thee harbinger of ill
And welcome not thy tiny form.
Yet, wanderer of the deep, like thee,
I've been upon the ocean long,
And heard the stormy winds howl free,
And listened to your wildest song;
Companion of my stormy way,
I bid thee now a long farewell;
No more to see thee dance the spray,
No more upon the wave to dwell.
My long lost home I seek once more—
Affection bids me welcome there-
No more to bear the tempest roar,
No more the stormy sea to dare.