For men must work, and women must weep,
And there's little to earn, and many to keep,
Though the harbour bar be moaning.

Three wives sat up in the lighthouse tower.

And they trimmed the lamps as the sun went down : They looked at the squall, and they looked at the shower, And the night-rack came rolling up ragged and brown. But men must work, and women must weep, Though storms be sudden, and waters deep, And the harbour bar be moaning.

Three corpses lay out on the shining sands

In the morning gleam as the tide went down,

And the women are weeping and wringing their hands,
For those who will never come home to the town:
For men must work, and women must weep,
And the sooner 'tis over, the sooner to sleep,
So goodbye to the bar and its moaning.

KINGSLEY.

LIII

THE DIVER.

"Have I a knight, or have I a page,
Who will dive in this dark abyss?

I have plunged a cup 'neath its foaming rage,
Around it the dark waves hiss.

He who rescues the cup from yon

awful deep,

May for ever the golden treasure keep."

Thus spake the king; and the goblet bright

From the steep cliff where he stood, He dashes with an arm of might

In Charybdis' raging flood.

"Who has the heart, must I ask it again,

The cup to bring back from the foaming main ? ”

And the knights and the squires all silently stand,
Looking down with their eager eyes

At the wild, wild sea, from the calm, safe land,
And not one will win the prize.

And the king for the third time asks, with a frown, "Is there no one here, who will venture down?"

But all stand still in silent fear

When a page, both bold and gay,

Stepped forth from the crowd, with dauntless air,
Casting mantle and scarf away,
While knights and ladies in amaze
On that undaunted bearing gaze.

And now he treads the cliff's dark

And marks the abyss below

verge,

Whose depths are wrapped in foaming surge,
Where Charybdis' waters flow;

And loud as the distant thunder's roar,

The waves rush forth from her lap once more.

And seething and boiling and hissing it rushes,
As when water is mingled with fire;

Till to heaven's blue height the foaming surge gushes,
Wave after wave ever higher and higher,

As if it could never exhausted be,

But the sea must give birth to another sea.

But at length the furious storm was hushed,
And dark midst the foaming spray,

A chasm yawned wide as the waters rushed,
As if 'twere the portal to hell's dark way.—
And the bystanders mark how the furious waves
Go down through the bubbling gulf to their graves.

Now quick! ere the breakers again resound,
To Heaven he commends his soul;

And

a cry of horror is heard around,

As the wild waves o'er him roll!

And the greedy jaws of the fierce white wave
Mysteriously close o'er the swimmer brave.

And silence now reigns o'er the waters' wide waste, Save in the deep's hollow swell,

As from lip to lip the eager word passed.

"Brave-spirited youth-farewell!"

More hollow and hollow now grows the dull roar, More fearful and fearful suspense on the shore.

King! if thou cast in thy crown of gold,
And say: "He who brings it here,
Kingdom and crown for his own shall hold ".
I would deem the price too dear.
What the howling deep conceals below,
No mortal man can live- and know.

Full many a stately vessel there

Went down to that yawning cave,

While spars and masts, all shattered and bare,
Dash up from that fearful wave.

And clearer and louder again comes the roar,

Like the voice of the storm, drawing nigh to the shore.

And seething and boiling and hissing it rushes,

As when water is mingled with fire,

Till to heaven's blue height the foaming surge gushes, Flood upon flood ever higher and higher.

As if it could never exhausted be,

But the sea must give birth to another sea.

Behold! midst those billows so dismal and drear,
What glitters so swan-like and white?

See, an arm and a dazzling neck appear,

And move through the waves with might.

It is he and see, in his left hand high,
He waveth the goblet exultingly.

And deep and long was the breath he drew,
As he greeted the heavenly light;

And joyously burst forth the crowd anew:

"He is here he is saved from the caverns of night, For the yawning gulf, and the watery grave

Had not power to hold that spirit brave.”

He comes, they surround him with shouts of delight, At the feet of the monarch he falls;

On bended knee gives the goblet bright,

The king his fair daughter calls.

With sparkling wine of ruby red,

She fills the cup— while the brave youth said:

"Long life to the king! and glad may he be, Who breathes in the light of the rosy sky; But 'tis fearful down in the deep deep sea,

Nor should man tempt the gods on high, Nor evermore strive to reveal to the light

What their mercy conceals beneath terror and night.

"Down, down with the lightning's speed I rushed, Down to the rocky cave;

The wild flood like a torrent rushed,

And mingling seemed my grave, While dizzy with its angry sound, Resistless I was whirled around.

"Then showed me my God, to whom I had cried In my terrible hour of need,

A cliff, jutting out of the deep at my side;
I grasped it, and felt I was freed.

And there hung the goblet on coral steep,
Saved from the bottomless ocean deep.

"Beneath it lay still mountain deep,
All dark was its purple bed;
And though the ear appeared to sleep,
The eye gazed down in dread,

Beholding the depths of those waters dark

All alive with the dragon, the snake, and the shark.