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Who led us through that fierce array Of foes, so stern and dark, The buffet of whose iron hands Could crush the strongest bark? Who brought us from their fearful realm Unscathed, the tale to tell, At home, amid a listening group, While tears of rapture swell?

Forget Him not,&mdash;that God of love, But pay the worship due, And on the altar of the soul The incense-flame renew, To Him, who foiled that frigid host Who on their Ocean path, So terrible in beauty frowned, So pitiless in wrath.

&#x002A;The scene here described occurred to the steamship "Great Western," which on her voyage between Europe and the United States, in 1841, passed through a fleet of icebergs, reported by Capt. Hoskins, as between three and four hundred in number, headed by one larger than the rest, whose length was computed at three quarters of a mile, and its entire altitude, above and below the surface, at four hundred feet.