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THE BLACK SEAL.
BY L. E. L.
Far, far across the sunny sea,
The gallant vessel goes;
Her white wings like a sea-bird's spread
That hovers o'er its foes.
Her decks are armed, the battle flag
Floats red around the mast;
And other ships have lowered theirs
Where'er that flag has past.
Her course has been amid those isles,
Those western isles which first,
Like some sweet dream of Paradise,
Upon the Spaniard burst.
With scarlet flowers that light their hills
And valleys that are bright,
With golden creepers—and with birds,
That sparkle in their flight.
