:

Aw'D by her own rash words she was still and her eyes to the seaward Look'd for an answer of wrath: far off, in the heart of the darkness,

Bright white mists rose slowly; beneath them the wandering ocean Glimmer'd and glow'd to the deepest

abyss; and the knees of the maiden Trembled and sank in her fear, as afar, like a dawn in the midnight,

Rose from their seaweed chamber the choir of the mystical sea-maids. Onward toward her they came, and her heart beat loud at their coming, Watching the bliss of the gods, as waken'd the cliffs with their laughter. Onward they came in their joy, and before them the roll of the surges Sank, as the breeze sank dead, into smooth green foam-fleck'd marble, Aw'd; and the crags of the cliff, and the

pines of the mountain were silent. Onward they came in their joy, and around them the lamps of the seanymphs,

Myriad fiery globes, swam panting and

heaving; and rainbows,

Crimson and azure and emerald, were

broken in star-showers, lighting Far through the wine-dark depths of the crystal, the gardens of Nereus, Coral and sea-fan and tangle, the blooms and the palms of the ocean. Onward they came in their joy, more

white than the foam which they scatter'd,

Laughing and singing, and tossing and twining, while eager, the Tritons Blinded with kisses their eyes, unreprov'd, and above them in worship

Hover'd the terns, and the seagulls swept past them on silvery pinions

Echoing softly their laughter; around them the wantoning dolphins

Sigh'd as they plunged, full of love; and the great sea-horses which bore them Curv'd up their crests in their pride to the delicate arms of the maiden,

Pawing the spray into gems, till the fiery rainfall, unharming,

Sparkled and gleam'd on the limbs of the nymphs, and the coils of the mermen. Onward they went in their joy, bath'd round with the fiery coolness, Needing nor sun nor moon, self-lighted, immortal: but others,

Pitiful, floated in silence apart; in their bosoms the sea-boys,

Slain by the wrath of the seas, swept down by the anger of Nereus ; Hapless, whom never again on strand or on quay shall their mothers

Welcome with garlands and vows to the temple, but wearily pining

Gaze over island and bay for the sails of the sunken; they heedless Sleep in soft bosoms forever, and dream of the surge and the sea-maids. Onward they pass'd in their joy; on their brows neither sorrow nor anger; Self-sufficing, as gods, never heeding the woe of the maiden.

THE LAST BUCCANEER

OH, England is a pleasant place for them that 's rich and high;

But England is a cruel place for such poor folks as I;

And such a port for mariners I ne'er shall see again,

As the pleasant Isle of Avès, beside the Spanish main.

There were forty craft in Avès that were both swift and stout,

All furnish'd well with small arms and cannons round about;

And a thousand men in Avès made laws so fair and free

To choose their valiant captains and obey them loyally.

Thence we sail'd against the Spaniard with
his hoards of plate and gold,
Which he wrung by cruel tortures from the
Indian folk of old ;

Likewise the merchant captains, with hearts as hard as stone,

Which flog men and keel-haul them and starve them to the bone.

Oh, the palms grew high in Avès and fruits that shone like gold,

And the colibris and parrots they were gorgeous to behold;

And the negro maids to Avès from bondage fast did flee,

To welcome gallant sailors a sweeping in from sea.

Oh, sweet it was in Avès to hear the landward breeze

A-swing with good tobacco in a net between the trees,

With a negro lass to fan you while you listen'd to the roar

Of the breakers on the reef outside that never touched the shore.

But Scripture saith, an ending to all fine things must be,

So the King's ships sail'd on Avès and quite put down were we.

All day we fought like bulldogs, but they burst the booms at night;

And I fled in a piragua sore wounded from the fight.

Nine days I floated starving, and a negro lass beside,

Till for all I tried to cheer her, the poor young thing she died;

But as I lay a gasping a Bristol sail came by, And brought me home to England here to beg until I die.

And now I'm old and going I'm sure I can't tell where ;

One comfort is, this world 's so hard I can't be worse off there:

If I might but be a sea-dove I'd fly across the main,

To the pleasant Isle of Avès, to look at it once again.

LORRAINE

"ARE you ready for your steeple-chase,
Lorraine, Lorraine, Lorrèe ?
Barum, Barum, Barum, Barum,
Barum, Barum, Baree.

She clasp'd her new-born baby, poor Lorraine, Lorraine, Lorrèe,

Barum, Barum, Barum, Barum,
Barum, Barum, Baree.

"I cannot ride Vindictive, as any man might see,

And I will not ride Vindictive, with this baby on my knee;

He's kill'd a boy, he's kill'd a man, and why must he kill me?"

"Unless you ride Vindictive, Lorraine, Lorraine, Lorrèe,

Unless you ride Vindictive to-day at Coulterlee,

And land him safe across the brook, and win the blank for me, It's you may keep your baby, for you'll get no keep from me.

"That husbands could be cruel," said Lorraine, Lorraine, Lorrèe,

"That husbands could be cruel, I have known for seasons three; But oh, to ride Vindictive while a baby cries for me,

And be kill'd across a fence at last for all the world to see!"

She master'd young Vindictive - O, the gallant lass was she!

And kept him straight and won the race as near as near could be ;

But he kill'd her at the brook against a pollard willow tree;

Oh! he kill'd her at the brook, the brute,
for all the world to see,
And no one but the baby cried for poor
Lorraine, Lorrèe.

A FAREWELL

My fairest child, I have no song to give you; No lark could pipe to skies so dull and gray: Yet, ere we part, one lesson I can leave you For every day.

clever;

Do noble things, not dream them, all day

long:

ever

One grand, sweet song.