But Christian, of an higher order, stood Like an extinct volcano in his mood; Silent, and sad, and savage,-with the trace Of passion reeking from his clouded face; Till lifting up again his sombre eye, It glanced on Torquil who lean'd faintly by. "And is it thus ?" he cried, "unhappy boy! And thee too, thee my madness must destroy."

And who the first that, springing on the strand,

Leap'd like a Nereid from her shell to land, With dark but brilliant skin, and dewy eye Shining with love, and hope, and constancy? Neuha, the fond, the faithful, the adored, Her heart on Torquil's like a torrent pour'd; And smiled, and wept, and near, and nearer clasp'd,

stood,

Yet dabbled with his lately flowing blood; Seized his hand wistfully, but did not press, And shrunk as fearful of his own caress; Enquired into his state; and when he heard The wound was slighter than he deem'd or fear'd,

A moment's brightness pass'd along his brow, As much as such a moment would allow. "Yes," he exclaim'd, “we are taken in the toil,

But not a coward or a common spoil; Dearly they have bought us—dearly still may buy,And I must fall; but have you strength to fly? "Twould be some comfort still, could you survive:

Our dwindled band is now too few to strive. Oh! for a sole canoe! though but a shell, To bear you hence to where a hope may

dwell!

But brief their time for good or evil thought;

The billows round the promontory brought The plash of hostile oars - Alas! who made That sound a dread? All round them seem'd array'd

Against them, save the bride of Toobonai: She, as she caught the first glimpse o'er the bay

Of the arm'd boats which hurried to complete The remnant's ruin with their flying feet, Beckon'd the natives round her to their prows, Embark'd their guests, and launch'd their light canoes;

In one placed Christian and his comrades twain;

But she and Torquil must not part again. She fix'd him in her own-away! away! They clear the breakers, dart along the bay, And towards a group of islets, such as bear The sea-bird's nest and seal's surf-hollow'd lair,

They skim the blue tops of the billows; fast

Even superstition now forbade their stay.
Some said he had not plunged into the wave,
But vanish'd like a corpse-light from a grave;
Others, that something supernatural
Glared in his figure, more than mortal tall;
While all agreed, that in his cheek and eye
There was the dead hue of eternity.
Still as their oars receded from the crag,
Round every weed a moment would they lag,
Expectant of some token of their prey;
But no-he had melted from them like the

spray.

Torquil, the nursling of the northern seas, Pursued her liquid steps with art and ease. Deep-deeper for an instant Neuha led The way then upward soar'd—and, as she spread Her arms, and flung the foam from off her locks, Laugh'd, and the sound was answer'd by the rocks.

They had gain'd a central realm of earth again, But look'd for tree, and field,and sky, in vain. Around she pointed to a spacious cave, Whose only portal was the keyless wave; (A hollow archway by the sun unseen, Save through the billows' glassy veil of

green,

In some transparent ocean-holiday,
When all the finny people are at play;)
Wiped with her hair the brine from Tor-
quil's eyes,

surprise; Led him to where the rock appear'd to fut And form a something like a Triton's hut; For all was darkness for a space, till day Through clefts above let in a sober'd ray; As in some old cathedral's glimmering aisle The dusty monuments from light recoil, Thus sadly in their refuge submarine The vault drew half her shadow from the

Of Torquil's knife struck fire, and thus array'd The grot with torchlight. Wide it was and high,

And show'd a self-born Gothic canopy; The arch uprear'd by Nature's architect, The architrave some earthquake might erect; The buttress from some mountain's bosom hurl'd,

When the Poles crash'd and Water was the World;

Or harden'd from some earth-absorbing fire While yet the globe reek'd from its funeral pyre;

The fretted pinnacle, the aisle, the nave, Were there, all scoop'd by Darkness from her Cave.

There, with a little tinge of Phantasy. Fantastic faces moped and mow'd on high,

And then a mitre or a shrine would fix

The eye upon its seeming crucifix.
Thus Nature play'd with the Stalactites,
And built herself a chapel of the Seas.

And Neuha took her Torquil by the hand, And waved along the vault her kindled brand,

And led him into each recess, and show'd
The secret places of their new abode.
Nor these alone, for all had been prepared
Before, to soothe the lover's lot she shared;
The mat for rest; for dress the fresh gnatoo,
And sandal-oil to fence against the dew;
For food the cocoa-nut, the yam, the bread
Born of the fruit; for board the plantain
spread

With its broad leaf,or turtle-shell which bore
A banquet in the flesh it cover'd o'er;
The gourd with water recent from the rill,
The ripe banana from the mellow hill;
A pine-torch-pile to keep undying light,
And she herself, as beautiful as Night,
To fling her shadowy spirit o'er the scene,

She, as he gazed with grateful wonder, press'd

Her shelter'd love to her impassion'd breast;
And, suited to her soft caresses, told
An elden tale of Love,-for Love is old,
Old as Eternity, but not outworn
With each new being born or to be born:
How a young Chief, a thousand moons ago,
Diving for turtle in the depths below,
Had risen, in tracking fast his ocean-prey.
Into the cave which round and o'er them lay;
How, in some desperate feud of after-time,
He shelter'd there a daughter of the clime,
A foe beloved, and offspring of a foe,
Saved by his tribe but for a captive's woe;
How, when the storm of war was still'd,

he led

His island-clan to where the waters spread
Their deep green shadow o'er the rocky door,
Then dived-it seem'd as if to rise no more:
His wondering mates, amazed within their
bark,
Or deem'd him mad, or prey to the blue shark,
Row'd round in sorrow the sea-girded rock,
Then paused upon their paddles from the
shock,

When, fresh and springing from the deep,
they saw
A Goddess rise-so deem'd they in their awe;
And their companion, glorious by her side,
Proud and exulting in his Mermaid-bride;
And how, when undeceived, the pair they
bore

With sounding conchs and joyous shouts to shore;

How they had gladly loved and calmly died,
And why not also Torquil and his bride?
Not mine to tell the rapturous caress
Which follow'd wildly in that wild recess
This tale; enough that all within that cave
Was Love, though buried strong as in the

The wave which bore them still, their foes

way,

would bear. Who, disappointed of their former chase, In search of Christian now renew'd their race. Eager with anger, their strong arms made Like vultures baffled of their previous prey. They gain'd upon them, all whose safety lay In some bleak crag or deeply-hidden bay: No further chance or choice remain'd; and For the first further rock which met their right sight

They steer'd,to take their latest view of land, And yield as victims, or die sword in hand; Dismiss'd the natives and their shallop, who Would still have battled for that scanty

Begun the praises of a thousand years;
No nation's eyes would on their tomb be bent,
No heroes envy them their monument;
However boldly their warm blood was spilt,
Their life was shame, their epitaph was
guilt.

And this they knew and felt, at least the one,