She was a prince's child,
I but a Viking wild,

And though she blushed and smiled,

I was discarded!

Should not the dove so white

Follow the sea-mew's flight,

Why did they leave that night.
Her nest unguarded?

Scarce had I put to sea,
Bearing the maid with me,-

Fairest of all was she

Among the Norsemen !

When on the white sea-strand,

Waving his armed hand,

Saw we old Hildebrand,

With twenty horsemen.

Then launched they to the blast,

Bent like a reed each mast,

Yet we were gaining fast,

When the wind failed us ;

And with a sudden flaw

Came round the gusty Skaw,

So that our foe we saw

Laugh as he hailed us.

And as to catch the gale

Round veered the flapping sail, Death! was the helmsman's hail,

Death without quarter!

Mid-ships with iron keel

Struck we her ribs of steel;

Down her black hulk did reel
Through the black water!

As with his wings aslant
Sails the fierce cormorant,
Seeking some rocky haunt,
With his prey laden,

So toward the open main,
Beating to sea again,

Through the wild hurricane,

Bore I the maiden.

Three weeks we westward bore, And when the storm was o'er, Cloud-like we saw the shore

Stretching to leeward!

There for my lady's bower

Built I the lofty tower,

Which, to this very hour,

Stands looking seaward.

There lived we many years;
Time dried the maiden's tears;

She had forgot her fears,

She was a mother;

Death closed her mild blue eyes,

Under that tower she lies;

Ne'er shall the sun arise

On such another !

Still grew my bosom then,
Still as a stagnant fen!
Hateful to me were men,
The sunlight hateful!

In the vast forest here,
Clad in my warlike gear,

Fell I upon my spear,

Oh, death was grateful!

Thus, seamed with many scars
Bursting these prison-bars,

Up to its native stars

My soul ascended!

There from the flowing bowl

Deep drinks the warrior's soul,

Skoal to the Northland! Skoal !"5

-Thus the tale ended.

THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS.

It was the schooner Hesperus,

That sailed the wintry sea;

And the skipper had taken his little daughtèr To bear him company.

Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax,

Her cheeks like the dawn of day, And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds, That ope in the month of May.

The skipper he stood beside the helm,

His pipe was in his mouth,

And he watched how the veering flaw did blow The smoke now west, now south.

Then up and spake an old sailor,
Had sailed the Spanish Main,

"I pray thee, put into yonder port,
For I fear a hurricane.

Last night, the moon had a golden ring,
And to night no moon we see!"

The skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe,
And a scornful laugh laughed he.

Colder and louder blew the wind,

A gale from the north-east ; The snow fell hissing in the brine,

And the billows frothed like yeast.

Down came the storm, and smote amain

The vessel in its strength;

She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed,
Then leaped her cable's length.

"Come hither! come hither! my little daughtèr,
And do not tremble so;

For I can weather the roughest gale,
That ever wind did blow."

He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat
Against the stinging blast;

He cut a rope from a broken spar,
And bound her to the mast.

"O father! I hear the church-bells ring; Oh, say, what may it be?"

""Tis a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast !"And he steered for the open sea.

"O father! I hear the sound of guns; Oh, say, what may it be?"

"Some ship in distress, that cannot live In such an angry sea!"

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