uses of the storm
We hear their piercing cries.
_Bertram_. C.R. MATURIN.

A brave vessel,
Who had no doubt some noble creatures in her,
Dashed all to pieces. O, the cry did knock
Against my very heart! Poor souls! they perished.
_The Tempest, Act i. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

They lit the high sea-light, and the dark began to fall.
"All hands to loose topgallant sails," I heard the captain call.
"By the Lord, she'll never stand it," our first mate, Jackson, cried.
... "It's the one way or the other, Mr. Jackson," he replied.

She staggered to her bearings, but the sails were new and good,
And the ship smelt up to windward just as though she understood.
As the winter's day was ending, in the entry of the night,
We cleared the weary headland, and passed below the light.
_Christmas at Sea_. R.L. STEVENSON.

SIGH.

To love,
It is to be all made of sighs and tears.
_As You Like It, Act V. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

The world was sad.--the garden was a wild;
And Man, the hermit, sighed--till Woman smiled.
_Pleasures of Hope, Pt. I_. T. CAMPBELL.

Sighed and looked unutterable things.
_The Seasons: Summer_. J. THOMSON.

My soul has rest, sweet sigh! alone in thee.
_To Laura in Death_. PETRARCH.

Yet sighes, deare sighes, indeede true friends you are
That do not leave your left friend at the wurst,
But, as you with my breast I oft have nurst,
So, gratefull now, you waite upon my care.
_Sighes_. SIR PH. SIDNEY.

Sighs
Which perfect Joy, perplexed for utterance,
Stole from her sister Sorrow.
_The Gardener's Daughter_. A. TENNYSON.

SILENCE.

Three Silences there are: the first of speech,
The second of desire, the third of thought.
_The Three Silences of Molinos_. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

Stillborn silence! thou that art
Flood-gate of the deeper heart!
_Silence_. R. FLECKNOE

And silence, like a poultice, comes
To heal the blows of sound.
_The Music Grinder_. O.W. HOLMES.

Silence in love betrays more woe
Than words, though ne'er so witty;
A beggar that is dumb, you know,
May challenge double pity.
_The Silent Lover_. SIR W. RALEIGH.

Shallow brooks murmur moste,
deepe silent slide away.
_The Arcadia, Thirsis and Dorus_. SIR PH. SIDNEY.

What, gone without a word?
Aye, so true love should do: it cannot speak;
Fo