And whistled to the morning-star.

And while he whistled long and loud
He heard a fierce mermaiden cry,
() boy, tho' thou art young and proud,
I see the place where thou wilt lie.

The sands and yeasty surges mix In caves about the dreary bay, And on thy ribs the limpet sticks,

And in thy heart the scrawl shall play."

"Fool," he answer'd, "death is sure

To those that stay and those that roam,

But I will nevermore endure

My father raves of death and wreck,

They are all to blame, they are all to blame.

"God help me! save I take my part
Of danger on the roaring sea,
A devil rises in my heart,

Far worse than any death to me."

THE ISLET.

"WHITHER, O whither, love, shall we go, For a score of sweet little summers or so," The sweet little wife of the singer said,

On the day that follow'd the day she was wed, Whither, O whither, love, shall we go?"

66

And the singer shaking his curly head

Turn'd as he sat, and struck the keys
There at his right with a sudden crash,
Singing, "And shall it be over the seas
With a crew that is neither rude nor rash,
But a bevy of Eroses apple-cheek'd,

In a shallop of crystal ivory-beak'd,

With a satin sail of a ruby glow,

To a sweet little Eden on earth that I know,
A mountain islet pointed and peak'd;

Waves on a diamond shingle dash,
Cataract brooks to the ocean run,
Fairily-delicate palaces shine

Mixt with myrtle and clad with vine,
And overstream'd and silvery-streak'd
With many a rivulet high against the Sun
The facets of the glorious mountain flash
Above the valleys of palm and pine.”

"Thither, O thither, love, let us go."

"No, no, no!

For in all that exquisite isle, my dear,

There is but one bird with a musical throat,
And his compass is but of a single note,
That it makes one weary to hear."

"Mock me not! mock me not! love, let us go."

626

"No, love, no.

THE RINGLET.

For the bud ever breaks into bloom on the tree,
And a storm never wakes on the lonely sea,
And a worm is there in the lonely wood,
That pierces the liver and blackens the blood,
And makes it a sorrow to be."

THE RINGLET.

"YOUR ringlets, your ringlets,
That look so golden-gay,

If

you will give me one, but one,

To kiss it night and day,

Then never chilling touch of Time

Will turn it silver-gray;

And then shall I know it is all true gold

To flame and sparkle and stream as of old,
Till all the comets in heaven are cold,
And all her stars decay."

"Then take it, love, and put it by;
This cannot change, nor yet can I.”

2.

'My ringlet, my ringlet,

That art so golden-gay,

Now never chilling touch of Time

Can turn thee silver-gray;

And a lad may wink, and a girl may hint,
And a fool may say his say;

For my doubts and fears were all amiss,
And I swear henceforth by this and this,
That a doubt will only come for a kiss.
And a fear to be kiss'd away."

"Then kiss it, love, and put it by:
If this can change, why so can I."

II.

O Ringlet, O Ringlet,

I kiss'd you night and day,

And Ringlet, O Ringlet,
You still are golden-gay,

But Ringlet, O Ringlet,

You should be silver-gray :

For what is this which now I'm told,
I that took you for true gold,

She that gave you 's bought and sold,
Sold, sold.

2.

O Ringlet, O Ringlet,

She blush'd a rosy red,
When Ringlet, O Ringlet,

She clipt you from her head,
And Ringlet, O Ringlet,

She gave you me, and said,
"Come, kiss it, love, and put it by:
If this can change, why so can I.”
O fie, you golden nothing, fie,

You golden lie.

3.

O Ringlet, O Ringlet,

I count you much to blame,

For Ringlet, O Ringlet,

You put me much to shame,

So Ringlet, O Ringlet,

I doom you to the flame.

For what is this which now I learn,
Has given all my faith a turn?
Burn, you glossy heretic, burn,
Burn, burn.

A WELCOME TO ALEXANDRA.

MARCH 7, 1863.

SEA-KINGS' daughter from over the sea,

Alexandra!

Saxon and Norman and Dane are we,
But all of us Danes in our welcome of thee,
Alexandra!

Welcome her, thunders of fort and of fleet!
Welcome her, thundering cheer of the street!
Welcome her, all things youthful and sweet,
Scatter the blossom under her feet!
Break, happy land, into earlier flowers!

Make music, O bird, in the new-budded bowers!
Blazon your mottos of blessing and prayer!
Welcome her, welcome her, all that is ours!
Warble, O bugle, and trumpet, blare!
Flags, flutter out upon turrets and towers!
Flames, on the windy headland flare!
Utter your jubilee, steeple and spire!
Clash, ye bells, in the merry March air!
Flash, ye cities, in rivers of fire!

Rush to the roof, sudden rocket, and higher
Melt into stars for the land's desire!
Roll and rejoice, jubilant voice,

Roll as a ground-swell dash'd on the strand,
Roar as the sea when he welcomes the land,
And welcome her, welcome the land's desire,
The sea-kings' daughter as happy as fair,
Blissful bride of a blissful heir,

Bride of the heir of the kings of the sea-
O joy to the people and joy to the throne,
Come to us, love us, and make us your own:
For Saxon or Dane or Norman we,

Teuton or Celt, or whatever we be,

We are each all Dane in our welcome of thee,

Alexandra!

A DEDICATION.

DEAR, near, and true -no truer Time himself
Can prove you, tho' he make you evermore
Dearer and nearer, as the rapid of life

Shoots to the fall-take this and pray that he,
Who wrote it, honoring your sweet faith in him,
May trust himself; and spite of praise and scorn,
As one who feels the immeasurable world,
Attain the wise indifference of the wise;
And after Autumn past-

if left to pass
His autumn into seeming-leafless days-
Draw toward the long frost and longest night,
Wearing his wisdom lightly, like the fruit
Which in our winter woodland looks a flower.*

The fruit of the Spindle-tree (Euonymus Europæus).