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“Aslwith his wings aslant,
With his prey laden ,
“Three weeks we westward here, And when the storm was o’er, Cloud-like we saw the shore
Stretching to lee-ward; There for my lady’s bower Built I the lofty tower, \Vhieh, to this very hour,
Stands looking sea-ward.
“There lived we many years;
“ Still grew my bosom then , Still as a stagnant fen! Hateful to me were men ,
The sun-light hateful! In the vast forest here , Clad in my warlike gear, Fell I upon my spear,
O , death was grateful!
“Thus, seamed with many scars
THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS.
IT was the schooner Hesperus,
And the skipper had taken his little daughter,
Blue were her eyes as the fairy—flax,
And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds,
The skipper he stood beside the helm,
And he watched how the veering flaw did blow
Then up and spake an old Sailor, Had sailed the Spanish Main , “I pray thee, put into yonder port, For I fear a hurricane.
* In Scandanavia this is the customary salutation when drinking in health. I have slightly changed the orthography of the word, in order to preserve the correct pronunciation.
Colder and louder blew the wind,
The snow fell hissing in the brine,
Down came the storm, and smote amain,
She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed,
“Come hither! come hither! my little daughter,
He wrapped her warm in his seaman’s coat
“0 father! I hear the sound of guns,
“Some ship in distress, that cannot live
“0 father! I see a. gleaming light, 0 say, what may it be?” But the father answered never a word, A frozen corpse was he. Longfellow. I. 6
Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark,
The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow
Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed That saved she might be;
And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave, On the Lake of Galilee.
And fast through the midnight dark and drear,
Like a sheeted ghost, the vessel swept
And ever the fitful gusts betweeen
It was the sound of the trampling surf,
The breakers were right~beneath her bows,
And a whooping billow swept the crew
She struck where the white and fleecy waves
But the cruel rocks, they gored her side
Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice,
Like a vessel of glass, she stove and sank,
At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach,
To see the form of a maiden fair,
The salt sea was frozen on her breast,
And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-weed,
Such was the wreck of the Hesperus ,
THE LUCK OF EDENHALL.
[The tradition. upon which this ballad is founded, and the “shards of the Luck of Edcnhall," still exlst in England. The goblet is in the possession of Sir Christopher Musgrave, Bart.. of Eden Hall, Cumberland; and is not so entirely shattered, as the ballad leaves it.]
01“ Edenhall, the youthful Lord
Bids sound the festal trumpet’s call;
He rises at the banquet board,
And cries , ’mid the drunken revellers all,
The butler hears the words with pain,
Takes slow from its silken cloth again
Then said the Lord; “This glass to praise,
The gray-beard with trembling hand obeys,-
It beams from the Luck of Edenhall.
Then speaks the Lord, and waves it light,