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And near him, on the sea-weed, lay—
Till then we had not wept,

But well our gushing hearts might say
That there a mother slept!

For her pale arms a babe had press’d,
With such a wreathing grasp,

Billows had dashed o’er that fond breast,
Yet not undone the clasp.

Her very tresses had been flung,
To wrap the fair child’s form,

Where still their wet long streamers clung
All tangled by the storm.

And beautiful, ’mid that wild scene,
Gleamed up the boy’s dead face,

Like slumber’s, trustingly serene,
In melancholy grace.

Deep in her bosom lay his head,
With half shut violet eye—

He had known little of her dread,
Nought of her agony.

Oh, human Love! whose yearning heart,
Through all things vainly true,

So stamps upon thy mortal part
Its passionate adieu—

Surely thou hast another lot,
There is some home for thee,

Where thou shalt rest, remembering not
The moaning of the sea!

Bash-Bish.
«“ a asn-Bisn!” I hear my little read-

ers exclaim, “what awful thing

is that? Is it an animal, or a

fish? or is it the name of an In-
dian?” No, my little fellows, it is nel-
ther the one nor the other; it is noth-
ing more nor less than one of the wildest
and maddest little falls in all New Eng-
land. “But where is it? I never heard
of it before; my Geography tells me of
Niagara falls, St. Anthony falls, Genesee
falls, Trenton falls, and a good many

 

THE YOUTH’S CABINET.

others besides, but says nothing about
Bash-Bish falls, I am sure.”

Ah, your curiosity is excited, is it?
that is just what I want. Now pay at-
tention, and I will tell you.

The falls of Bash-Bish are in the town
of Mt. Washington, the extreme south-
western town in the state of Massachu-
setts. It is at a great elevation above
tide-water, on the top of the Taughconic
range of mountains, one of the peaks of
voila Everet) is the second highest
point Of land in the state. The town
contains about four hundred inhabitants.

These falls are becoming quite cele-
brated, and are now visited every year
by hundreds of people, who come here
to behold God’s wonders as displayed
in the foaming cataract and towering
mountains. The stream which forms
the falls has its source in the mount-
ains, and runs westerly, and in succes-
sive beautiful cascades, precipitates it-
self, in the distance of about a mile,
from the heights of the Taughconic
range to the country below, where it
lazily ripples over the plains of Copake.

But we will go back to the falls.
Here, hanging over a pool of foaming
water, at the foot of a beautiful cascade,
is an immense pile of rocks, hundreds
of feet above the boiling flood below.
This is called the “Eagle’s Nest.” It
is a weary ascent to the top, I assure
you. But you must go up, difficult as
it is to climb the hills, or you will not
see half the wonders of Bash-Bish ; and
when you get there, if your nerves are
strong enough, you must cautiously ap-
proach the verge of the cliff, and look
down into the abyss below; and if any
of your company are there, they will
look like Lilliputians,

 

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