This sickening carnage might have lasted five minutes longer, had not the Confederate squadron sunk in consequence of the gimlet-hole. Down went the doomed craft of unblest treason, and in another moment the officer and crew of her were in the water, which reached nearly to their knees, imploring our fleet not to let them drown. Oh, that sight! the thrilling yet terrifying and agonizing grandeur of that dreadful moment! shall I ever forget it--ever cease to hear those cries ringing in mine ears? I'm afraid not, my boy--I'm afraid not. The Commodore rescued the sufferers from a watery grave; and having been privately informed by them that the South might be conquered, but never overcome, brought them ashore by the collars. Need I describe how our noble old nautical sea-dog was received by the Mackerel Brigade? need I tell how the band whipped out his key-bugle and played all the triumphant airs of our distracted country, and several original cavatinas? But, alas! my boy, this iron-plate business is taking all the romance out of the navy. How different is the modern from THE ANCIENT CAPTAIN. The smiles of an evening were shed on the sea, And its wave-lips laughed through their beardings of foam; And the eyes of an evening were mirrored beneath The shroud of the ship and her home. And as Time knows an end, so that sea knew a shore, Afar in a beautiful, tropical clime, Where Love with the Life of each being is blent, In a soft, psychological Rhyme. Oh, grand was the shore, when deserted and still It breasted the silver-mailed hosts of the Deep! And like the last bulwark of Nature it seemed, 'Twixt Death and an Innocent's sleep. But grander it was to the eyes of a knight, When clad in his armor he stood on the sands, And held to his bosom its essence of Life-- An heiress of titles and lands. Ah, fondly he gazed on the face of the maid! And blush-spoken fondness replied to his look; While heart answered heart with a feverish beat, And hand pressed the hand that it took. "Fair lady of mine," said the knight, stooping low, "Before I depart for the banquet of Death, I crave a new draught from the fountain of Life, Whose waters are all in thy breath. "The breast that is filled with thine image alone, May safely defy the dread tempest of steel; For while all its thoughts are of love and of thee, What peril of Self can it feel?" He paused; and the silence that followed his words, Was spread like a Hope, 'twixt a Dream and a Truth; And in it, his fancy created a world Wrought out of the dreams of his youth. Then shadows crept over the beautiful face Turned up to the sky in the pale streaming light, As shadows sweep over the orient pearl, Far down in the river at night.