"And horribly mingling in dread array,
Curled in many a hideous ball,
The sepia and the prickly ray,
My eye beheld them all.

With white teeth glistening in the dark,
Was the ocean's hyena, the horrible shark.

Full well I knew, as there I hung,
How vain was earthly aid;

Mid monsters the sole human thing,

In that drear desert laid.

Deep, deep, where the accents of man never rung,
Mid the monsters of ocean's dark desert I hung.

"Shuddering, I thought they were coming more near, With a hundred creeping joints!

Then in the maddening frenzy of fear,

I loosened my grasp of the coral points.

I was seized by the whirlpool's stream once more,
But it saved me now, for it brought me to shore."

At the tale of the youth greatly marvelled the king,
And he spake" The goblet is thine;

For thee too I destine, brave swimmer, this ring,
See how its jewels gleam and shine!

But first thou must venture and tell unto me

What thou'st seen in the lowermost depths of the sea."

Then his daughter, pale and sorrowing, came,
Her accents caressingly plead :

"O father, enough of this terrible game,

None other would venture this perilous deed.

Or, if thy heart still doth this homage desire,

It is time that the knights put to shame the brave squire.”

All madly the king grasps the goblet once more,

And hurls it far into the sea,

"If thou wilt again the lost treasure restore,

The first of my knights shalt thou be;
And thou shalt clasp her as a loving bride,
Who pleads with soft pity for thee at my side."

Love nerves his soul with heavenly might,
And his eyes all sparkling glow;
As he sees the beautiful cheek grow bright,
Ere she sinks as pale as snow.
What would he not dare that prize to win?
Victory or death! and he plunges in.

And now they hear the distant roar

Of the back returning waves;

They gaze in vain on the foam-swept shore,

As they pour from their rocky caves

s;

Wave upon wave the dark billows sweep,

But none bears the youth again from the deep!

From the German of Schiller.

LIV

THE TREASURES OF THE DEEP.

What hid'st thou in thy treasure-caves and cells?
Thou hollow-sounding and mysterious main !
Pale glistening pearls, and rainbow-coloured shells,
Bright things which gleam unrecked of and in vain.
Keep, keep thy riches, melancholy sea!

Yet

We ask not such from thee.

the depths have more! more,

What wealth untold,

Far down, and shining through their stillness, lies! Thou hast the starry gems, the burning gold,

Won from ten thousand royal argosies.

Sweep o'er thy spoils, thou wild and wrathful main!
Earth claims not these again!

Yet more, the depths have more! - Thy waves have rolled
Above the cities of a world gone by!

Sand hath filled up the palaces of old,

Sea-weed o'ergrown the halls of revelry.Dash o'er them, Ocean! in thy scornful play, Man yields them to decay!

Yet more, the billows and the depths have more !
High hearts and brave are gathered to thy breast!
They hear not now the booming waters roar

Thy battle-thunders will not break their rest.
Keep thy red gold and gems, thou stormy grave!—
Give back the true and brave!

Give back the lost and lovely! those for whom

The place was kept at board and hearth so long ; The prayer went up thro' midnight's breathless gloom; And the vain yearning woke 'midst festal song. Hold fast thy buried isles, thy towers o'erthrownBut all is not thine own!

F. HEMANS.

LV

THE MARINER'S CHILD.

Oh, weep no more, sweet mother!
Oh, weep no more to-night;
And only watch the sea, mother,
Beneath the morning light.

Then the bright blue sky is joyful,
And the bright blue sky is clear;
And I can see, sweet mother,

To kiss away your tear.

But now the wind goes wailing

O'er the dark and trackless deep;
And I know your grief, sweet mother,
Though I only hear you weep.

My father's ship will come, mother,
In safety o'er the main;

When the grapes are dyed with purple
He will be back again.

The vines were but in blossom

When he bade me watch them grow; And now the large leaves, mother, Conceal their crimson glow.

He'll bring us shells and sea-weed
And birds of shining wing;
But what are these, dear mother?
It is himself he'll bring.

I'll watch with thee, sweet mother,
But the stars fade from my sight -
Come, come, and sleep, dear mother
Oh, weep no more to-night!

L. E. LANDON.

LVI

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 chafe and toss in the spray.
Children dear, let us away.