Of ships dismasted that were hailed
And sent no answer back again.

The windows, rattling in their frames,
The ocean, roaring up the beach,
The gusty blast, the bickering flames,
All mingled vaguely in our speech;

Until they made themselves a part
Of fancies floating through the brain,
The long lost ventures of the heart,

That send no answers back again.

O flames that glowed! O hearts that yearned! They were indeed too much akin,

The drift-wood fire without that burned,

The thoughts that burned and glowed within.

H. W. Longfellow.

INTIMATIONS.

HENCE, in a season of calm weather,

Though inland far we be,

Our souls have sight of that immortal sea
Which brought us hither;

Can in a moment travel thither,

And see the children sport upon the shore,

And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.

Wordsworth.

THE FORSAKEN MERMAN.

75

THE FORSAKEN MERMAN.

COME, dear children, let us away!

Down and away below.

Now my brothers call from the bay;
Now the great winds shorewards blow;
Now the salt tides seawards flow;
Now the wild white horses play,
Champ and chaff and toss in the spray.
Children dear, let us away;

This way, this way.

Call her once before you go.
Call once yet,

In a voice that she will know;
"Margaret! Margaret!"

Children's voices should be dear
(Call once more) to a mother's ear ;
Children's voices wild with pain.

Surely she will come again.
Call her once, and come away;
This way, this way.

"Mother dear, we cannot stay,"
The wild white horses foam and fret,
Margaret! Margaret!

Come, dear children, come away down.
Call no more.

One last look at the white-walled town,

And the little gray church on the windy shore, Then come down.

She will not come, though you call all day.
Come away, come away.

Children dear, was it yesterday

We heard the sweet bells over the bay;
In the caverns where we lay,

Through the surf and through the swell,
The far-off sound of a silver bell?
Sand-strewn caverns cool and deep,
Where the winds are all asleep;

Where the spent lights quiver and gleam;
Where the salt weed sways in the stream;
Where the sea-beasts, ranged all round,
Feed in the ooze of their pasture-ground;
Where the sea-snakes coil and twine,
Dry their mail, and bask in the brine ;
Where great whales come sailing by
Sail and sail, with unshut eye,
Round the world for ever and aye?

When did music come this way?
Children dear, was it yesterday?

Children dear, was it yesterday
(Call yet once) that she went away?

Once she sat with you and me,

On a red gold throne in the heart of the sea,
And the youngest sat on her knee.

She combed its bright hair and she tended it

well,

When down swung the sound of the far-off bell;

She sighed, she looked up through the clear green

sea;

THE FORSAKEN MERMAN.

She said, "I must go, for my kinsfolk pray In the little gray church on the shore to-day. 'Twill be Easter-time in the world-ah me!

77

And I lose my poor soul, merman, here with thee." I said, Go up, dear heart, through the waves;

66

Say thy prayer, and come back to the kind sea

caves."

She smiled, she went up through the surf in the bay ; Children dear, was it yesterday?

Children dear, were we long alone?

"The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan; Long prayers," I said, " in the world they say. Come," I said, and we rose through the surf in the

bay.

We went up the beach in the sandy down

Where the sea-stocks bloom, to the white-walled

town,

Through the narrow-paved streets where all was still, To the little gray church on the windy hill.

From the church came a murmur of folk at their

prayers,

But we stood without in the cold blowing airs,

We climbed on the graves, on the stones worn with

rains,

And we gazed up the aisle through the small leaded

panes.

She sat by the pillar; we saw her clear;

Margaret, hist! come quick, we are here.
Dear heart," I said, we are here alone;

66

The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan."

But ah! she gave me never a look,

For her eyes were sealed to the holy book.

"Loud prays the priest; shut stands the door,"

Come away, children, call no more,

Come away, come down, call no more.

Down, down, down,

Down to the depths of the sea;

She sits at her wheel in the humming town,
Singing most joyfully.

66

Hark what she sings: "O joy, O joy,

For the humming street, and the child with its

toy,

For the priest and the bell, and the holy well,
For the wheel where I spun,

And the blessed light of the sun."
And so she sings her fill,

Singing most joyfully,

Till the shuttle falls from her hand,

And the whizzing wheel stands still.

She steals to the window and looks at the sand;
And over the sand at the sea;
And her eyes are set in a stare;
And anon there breaks a sigh.
And anon there drops a tear,
From a sorrow-clouded eye,
And a heart sorrow-laden,

A long, long sigh,

For the cold strange eyes of a little mermaiden,
And the gleam of her golden hair.