composed the following stanzas, which I inscribe with all respect to my worthy friend, Mrs. Henry Bell, the esteemed widow of the man whose "Life," I shall now bring to a close. The poem is meant to describe, briefly, the feelings which the first voyage of the Comet gave birth to, when she was witnessed by the thousands who lined the shores of the Clyde, when Bell kindled his fire, and put the steam-power on those paddles, which demonstrated to astonished Glasgow that hot-water was henceforth to do that on the river and sea, which wind, and oar, and canvas were till then supposed the only agents sufficient to drive the vessel through the watery channel.
These rhymes, my honour'd friend, to you
Are penn'd, his merits to unfold,
Whose patriot worth and genius true,
Shall live in song, while Clutha bold
Rolls to the dark and raging deep,
And winds the ocean's bosom sweep!
I saw the bark when first was tried
Its giant-strength on Clyde's rude breast
Of Scotia's rivers all, the pride,
In poet's brightest page confess'd;
The Comet cut its brilliant path
Through waters, in their winter wrath!
A mighty host assembl❜d there,
From city, village, hamlet, glen,
From hill and dale-the brave, the fair,
Bright maidens, matrons, gallant men-
Came to behold that scheme sublime,
Whose fruits now reach to every clime.
Bell stood his post, nor dread had he,
He brav'd the tempest, wildly rude,
While thousands fear'd, yet hop'd to see
His triumph on the briny flood,-
His men were firm,-his master-mind
Led them to conquer wave and wind.
Ye maids and matrons! now ye may
Cast all your fears to howling winds;
For Bell is safe, on Clyde's rough spray,
He rides secure-old Neptune binds
As with a chain, his daring plan,
Succeeds for Britain, and for man!
Not Homer's muse, nor Virgil's pen,
Nor mighty Shakspeare's lofty mind,
Nor godlike Milton's boldest strain
Could e'er unfold, and show mankind
Such wonders, on the ocean seen,
Where thy barks, fam'd Bell, have been.
Thanks to thee, Bell! but deeper yet,
Be thanks to Him who rules on high;
Whose glory in the heavens is set-
In sun, and moon, and stars, and sky,
Which loud proclaim His power divine,
As in their splendid course they shine.
The fire of genius came from heaven,
From Him who David's harp inspir'd,—
In love to man, in kindness given,
To raise our world,-Bell's mind was fir'd
With ardent light, mankind to bless;
And patriots will this truth confess.
The Comet moves,-Dumbarton's rock
Displays its front amid the storm—
She rides, nor heeds the tempest's shock,
A fairy thing, a beauteous form;
She triumphs on that trying day,
While shouts of joy burst on her way.
Port-Glasgow, Greenock, now behold,
The bark which battl'd wind and wave;
And Helensburgh, whose flags so bold
Were rais'd on high, to Bell the brave;
And his fam'd Comet, which had won
Renown afar, from sun to sun.
Sweet Helensburgh, ay, there he liv'd,
Who now sleeps calmly in that grave,*
Wash'd by those billows he depriv'd
Of power to stop the bark, he gave
To link our isle with every shore,
"Till suns shall set to rise no more."
Bell! yes, thy barks to India's strand,
Through China's rivers, seas, now ride,
Through Nile's dread torrent they command
Deep awe, and show Britannia's pride;
And o'er Columbia's tides they roam,
Where Indian finds his grandest home.
Thou saidst, they would cross soon the wild
Of waters into every land,
Where sun hath shone, or stars have smil❜d,
And bear the torch of freedom bland;
And bear the Christian saving light,
And those who wield God's weapons bright.
Ye rulers of Britannia's isle!
How meanly treated ye my friend!
Will not the thought on you recoil,
Now he is gone-with dust to blend?
Two hundred pounds were all ye gave,
To him who conquer'd wind and wave!
The bards through ages yet to come,
Will strike their cords in tones of fire-
In songs which will the world illume,
Delight the matron, son, and sire;
And Bell! they will remember thee,
In strains of sweetest minstrelsy.
Glasgow! thou didst not Bell forget,
Thy sons and daughters knew his worth,Ewing, and Garden, Campbell, set Their seal to his-they knew his birth; His zeal, his labours-Telford too, And Brunel, Fawcett, stood most true.
Gladstone and Smith, M'Gavin, Hume,
Finlay and Alston, Downie, stood
Firm by the man whose name will bloom
In beauty far-"o'er field and flood;"
Long as old Clyde those boats shall bear,
Whose benefits a world will share.
Farewell, my Friend! I knew thee well,-
Thy kindly heart did beat for all!
Oft in my breast a generous swell
Arose for thee; the tear did fall
At times, when o'er thy labours vast,
My mind's-eye was in sorrow cast.
|