RECOLLECTIONS OF A WANDERER.

_The Wreck._[1]

_(For the Mirror.)_



All night the booming minute-gun
Had pealed along the deep,
And mournfully the rising sun
Look'd o'er the tide-worn steep,
A bark from India's coral strand,
Before the rushing blast,
Had vailed her topsails to the sand
And bowed her noble mast.
The Queenly ship! brave hearts had striven
And true ones died with her!
We saw her mighty cable riven,
Like floating gossamer!
We saw her proud flag struck that morn,
A star once o'er the seas,
Her helm beat down, her deck uptorn,
And sadder things than these!
MRS. HEMANS

Sweet romantic Cove of Torwich--repository of my youth's recollections!--A
mingled gust of feeling crosses over me, rainbow-like,--fraught with the
checkered remembrances of "life's eventful history," when I turn to the