And, like the waters flow From the heart's chamber. "Far in the Northern Land, And, with my skates fast bound, "Oft to his frozen lair Sang from the meadow. "But when I older grew, "Many a wassail-bout Set the cocks crowing, "Once as I told in glee And as the white stars shine Our vows were plighted. Bright in her father's hall When of old Hildebrand "While the brown ale he quaffed, "She was a Prince's child, And though she blushed and smiled, I was discarded! Should not the dove so white Follow the sea-mew's flight, Why did they leave that night "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, 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 "And as to catch the gale Mid-ships with iron keel Struck we her ribs of steel; “As with his wings aslant, So toward the open main, Bore I the maiden. "Three weeks we westward bore, There for my lady's bower 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, O, death was grateful! My soul ascended! THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS. It was the schooner Hesperus, That sailed the wintry sea; And the skipper had taken his little daughter, Blue were her eyes as the fairy flax, Her cheeks like the dawn of day, And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds, 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 Sailór, Had sailed the Spanish Main, "I pray thee, put into yonder port, “Last night, the moon had a golden ring, Colder and louder blew the wind, A gale from the Northeast; * In Scandinavia this is the customary salutation when drinking a health. I have lightly changed the orthography of the word, in order to preserve the correct pronunciation. The snow fell hissing in the brine, And the billows frothed like yeast. Down came the storm, and smote amain She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed, "Come hither! come hither! my little daughter, And do not tremble so; For I can weather the roughest gale, He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat He cut a rope from a broken spar, "O father! I hear the church-bells ring, ""Tis a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!”And he steered for the open sea. "O father! I hear the sound of guns, O say, what may it be?" "Some ship in distress, that cannot live In such an angry sea!" "O father! I see a gleaming light, O say, what may it be?" -- But the father answered never a word,- Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark, The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed That saved she might be; And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave, And fast through the midnight dark and drear, And ever the fitful gusts between It was the sound of the trampling surf, |