“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,

O, 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!"

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 daughter,

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 to 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 Northeast, 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;

a

She shuddered and paused, like a frightened steed,

Then leaped her cable's length.