High in his chariot glow'd the lamp of day

Thou living ray of intellectual fire.

The sacred lamp of day Now dipt in western clouds his parting ray.

With living colours give my verse to glow: The sad memorial of a tale of woe!

Again she plunges! hark! a second shock Bilges the splitting vessel on the rock; Down on the vale of death, with dismal cries, The fated victims shuddering cast their eyes In wild despair; while yet another stroke With strong convulsion …

The scene was changed. It was a bark that slowly held its way, And o'er its lee the coast of France in the light of evening lay; And on its deck a lady sat, who gazed with tearful eyes Upon the fast receding hills that dim and distant rise.

So All is diff’rent, and yet All is One.