The Torpedo.

Valiant sons of the sea,         All the vast deep, your home,         Holds no terror so dread     As this novel and unseen foe,         Lurking under the foam         Of some dangerous channel -     As the torpedo, the scourge of ships.         Through the rigging may roar         olus' thousand gales,         Yet the mariner's heart     Shrinketh not from the howling blast;         Though with battle-rent sails,         Flames and carnage around him,     Cowardice never shall pale his lips.         But when powers concealed,         Threatening with death the crew,         Pave each eddy below,     E'en the bravest are chilled with fear,         Lest yon wizard in blue,         Who their progress is spying,     Touch but the key with his finger-tips.         Lo! with thunderous boom         Towers a column bright,         And the vessel is gone!     In that ocean of blinding spray         Sink her turrets from sight,         By thy potency broken,     O irresistible scourge of ships!      - Harry Howard.