And sick of prey, yet howling on for more, Vomitest thy wrecks on its inhospitable shore; Treacherous in calm, and terrible in storm, Who shall put forth on thee, Unfathomable Sea?

THE FUGITIVES.

I.

THE waters are flashing,
The white hail is dashing,
The lightnings are glancing,
The hoar-spray is dancing.
Away!

The whirlwind is rolling,

The thunder is tolling,

The forest is swinging,

The minster bells ringing.
Come away!

The Earth is like Ocean,
Wreck-strewn and in motion;
Bird, beast, man, and worm,
Have crept out of the storm.
Come away!

II.

"Our boat has one sail,
And the helmsman is pale ;-

A bold pilot I trow,

Who should follow us now,"
Shouted he;

And she cried, "Ply the oar;
Put off gayly from shore!"
As she spoke, bolts of death
Mixed with hail, specked their path
O'er the sea.

And from isle, tower, and rock,
The blue beacon-cloud broke;
Though dumb in the blast,

The red cannon flashed fast

From the lee.

III.

"And fearst thou, and fearst thou? And seest thou, and hearst thou? And drive we not free

O'er the terrible sea,

I and thou?"

One boat-cloak did cover

The loved and the lover;

Their blood beats one measure,

They murmur proud pleasure
Soft and low;

While around the lashed Ocean,
Like mountains in motion,

Is withdrawn and uplifted,
Sunk, shattered, and shifted,
To and fro.

IV.

In the court of the fortress
Beside the pale portress,

Like a bloodhound well beaten
The bridegroom stands, eaten
By shame.

On the topmost watch-turret, As a death-boding spirit, Stands the gray tyrant father; To his voice the mad weather Seems tame;

And with curses as wild
As e'er clung to child,

He devotes to the blast

The best, loveliest, and last
Of his name!

MUTABILITY.

THE flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow dies;

All that we wish to stay,

Tempts and then flies.

What is this world's delight?
Lightning that mocks the night,
Brief even as bright.

Virtue, how frail it is!

Friendship too rare!

Love, how it sells poor bliss
For proud despair!

But we, though soon they fall,

Survive their joy and all

Which ours we call.

Whilst skies are blue and bright,

Whilst flowers are gay,

Whilst eyes that change ere night Make glad the day,

Whilst yet the calm hours creep,— Dream thou-and from thy sleep Then wake to weep.

ΤΟ

MINE eyes were dim with tears unshed;
Yes, I was firm-thus wert not thou.
My baffled looks did fear* yet dread
To meet thy looks-I could not know
How anxiously they sought to shine
With soothing pity upon mine.

To sit and curb the soul's mute rage
Which preys upon itself alone;
To curse the life which is the cage

Of fettered grief that dares not groan,
Hiding from many a careless eye
The scorned load of agony;

Whilst thou alone, then not regarded,

The [

thou alone should be,—

To spend years thus, and be rewarded,
As thou, sweet love, requited me
When none were near-O! I did wake
From torture for that moment's sake.

Upon my heart thy accents sweet
Of peace and pity fell like dew
On flowers half dead;―thy lips did meet

Mine tremblingly; thy dark eyes threw Their soft persuasion on my brain, Charming away its dream of pain.

* Read yearn?