From some strange, unaccountable presentiment, I stepped mechanically backward and cast an eye at the brig, which had now floated to some distance. As I did so, a trail of fire glanced before my sight, and I saw the simmering shot enter her side. Thought was not quicker than the explosion which followed, shaking the sea beneath and the sky above, and almost deafening the ear with its unearthly concussion, while instantaneously a gush of flame shot far up into the sky; the masts of the vessel were lifted perpendicularly upwards, and the whole air was filled with shattered timbers and mangled human bodies that fell the next minute pattering around us into the deep. Oh God! the fearful sight! The shrieks of the wounded and drowning—the awful struggles of the poor wretches in the water—the sullen cloud that settled over the scene of death, will they ever pass away from my memory? But I drop a veil over a sight too horrible to recount. Suffice it to say, of all the rover’s crew, not one survived to see that sun go down. A few we picked up with our boats, but they died ere night. The cause of the explosion is soon told. The brig’s magazine had been struck and fired by our LAST SHOT. * * * * * THE SONG OF MADOC. BY G. FORRESTER BARSTOW. Away! away! the bright blue waves are dashing With sparkling crests like spotless mountain snow, As in the fight our mighty falchion’s flashing Above the foe. Away! away! old ocean spreads before us Its broad domain, where sunk the sun’s last ray, While in the deep blue sky that arches o’er us Stars shine to light our way. Away! away! from home’s entrancing pleasures The festal board, the bower of lady fair, The roof that holds our hearts’ most valued treasures, The loved ones there, We go: and while the burning tear is starting From eyes that gaze upon a shoreless main, Fill! fill to those from whom we now are parting, And ne’er may see again. Fill to the loved ones whose bright eyes are beaming As yonder stars in their pure heaven of blue, Bright as the stars those brilliant eyes are gleaming With heaven’s own hue. Fill to the loved ones whose bright cheeks are glowing As eastern heaven in morning’s virgin ray, Whose necks, down which their auburn locks are flowing, Would shame the dashing spray. Away! away! above the waves careering, Our ship speeds lightly on an unknown way, Far to the west our course we now are steering With spirits gay. Far to the west, where brilliant gems are shining, And mighty rivers roll o’er golden sands, Where sweetest flowers and richest grapes are twining, Wooing the stranger’s hands. * * * * *