Sung like a dirge, and the white billows lash'd
The boat, and then like ravenous lions dash'd
Against the deep wave-hidden rocks, and told
Of ghastly perils as they backward roll'd.

The lovers, driven along from hour to hour,
Were helpless, hopeless, in the ocean's power.-
The storm continued, and no voice was heard,
Save that of some poor solitary bird,

Which sought a shelter on the quivering mast,
But soon borne off by the tremendous blast,
Sunk in the waters screaming. The great sea
Bared like a grave its bosom silently;

Then sank and panted like an angry thing
With its own strength at war: the vessel flew
Towards the land, and then the billows grew

Larger and white, and roar'd as triumphing,
Scattering afar and wide the heavy spray,
That shone like loose snow as it pass'd away.

THE ORPHAN MAID.

NOVEMBER'S hail-cloud drifts away,

November's sun-beam wan

Looks coldly on the castle grey,
When forth comes Lady Anne.

The orphan by the oak was set,
Her arms, her feet, were bare,
The hail-drops had not melted yet
Amid her raven hair.

Scott.

And, "Dame," she said, "by all the ties

That child and mother know,

Aid one who never knew those joys—
Relieve an orphan's woe."

The lady said, "An orphan's state
Is sad and hard to bear;

Yet worse the widow'd mother's fate,
Who mourns both lord and heir.

"Twelve times the rolling year has sped,
Since, while from vengeance wild
Of fierce Strathallan's chief I fled,—
Forth's eddies whelm'd my child!"

"Twelve times the year its course has borne," The wandering maid replied, "Since fishers on St. Bridget's morn

Drew nets on Campside side.

"St. Bridget sent no scaly spoil,—
An infant, well nigh dead,

They saved, and rear'd in want and toil,
To beg from you her bread."

That orphan maid the lady kiss'd,—

bear;

66 My husband's looks you St. Bridget and her morn be bless'd!

You are his widow's heir!"

They've robed that maid so poor and pale

In silk and sandals rare,

And pearls, for drops of frozen hail,

Are glist'ning in her hair,

FAIRIES.

Hamilton.

HE quaked indeed—he listen'd long-he started;
A ray of light shot upward from the core
Of the water lilies, and they spread, and parted;
And then the light increased more and more;
And fainting sounds of sweetness kiss'd the shore,
And swoon'd upon the water. All afloat
And restless were those flowers, with their bright store
Of fairies; for at every mellow note,

A small and dazzling form stood in each silvery boat.

The waves did melt and part before those flowers,
That bent them like the gentlest boats to land,
And as scared rose-leaves flit from summer bowers,
Those small and pretty spirits, each with wand
Of crystal brightness in its pearly hand,

Pass'd to the grassy quiet of the shore;
The verdure silver'd underneath that band
Of fays, in spots of softest lustre, more
Starlight and sweet than aught in palaces of yore!

Amid that airy, elfin company,

There were the prettiest shapes that e'er were seen,
Span-long, and very sightly to the e'e,

And young as one night's dew-drops are, I ween;
And they as light upon the grass did lean,
Listening to lone sounds waken'd in the air,
From lutes etherial!-more emerald green
The grass became, rejoicing calmly there,
In creatures of romance, so radiantly fair.

The freckled cowslip sprang, but meekly droop'd,
In those most tremulous starry presences;
Wreaths of the odorous eglantine were loop'd
From spray to spray of all the youthful trees:
Blossoms as white as foam of coursing seas

Studded the grass and leaves; and all about,
The gold and purple breast of the heart's-ease
Did offer resting spots to that quaint rout,
And rose-buds in the air for a fairy's kiss did pout.

Out peep'd the snow-drop, though 'twas summer time;
How could it from such revels be away?
Although it was oppress'd with the warm clime,
Still it look'd beautiful in its array,

And lonely as the budding star of day!

All these bright flowers were one night's ornament, Born in the fairies' breath, to pass away

Even with their vanishings,-by Flora lent
To make for sportive fays the deckings of their tent.

The enthusiast gazed, like one bewildered

And breathless with immortal visitings; He sat in chill delight, nor stirr❜d his head, Lest all should pass away like shadowy things; Now would his eye be dazed with the wings Of spangled fay, hovering o'er blossom white; And now he listen'd to lone thrilling strings Of magic lutes, and saw the hare-bell bright In its blue veins, for there nestled a form of light.

One blew a honeysuckle trumpet well,

And made young martial music, till it laugh'd;
And in its mirth flew sparks unmatchable
Of light around; another, with sweet craft,

Stole from some careless fay its cup, and quaff'd
The dew-wine to its depth,-then amid weeds
Hid the small crystal goblet :-oft a shaft,

Made of the film taken from water reeds,

Did fleet across the air, and pierce the lilac's beads.

Under the shadow of a May sweet blossom,
Two placid elves, like linked sisters, chased
The moments with the heaving of the bosom,
In happy sleep their arms were interlaced,
And their bright cheeks commingling, seem'd to taste
Each other's rosy beauty: overhead

A bee, that had been trammell'd in his haste
That magic eve, a lulling murmur bred,

And dewy leaves a hymn to sylvan quiet shed!

A wand was waved through the charmed air,
And up there rose a very costly throng

Of ivory tables, stored with dainties rare,

At sight of which e'en dieted men might long:
They rose amid strange minstrelsy and song;

And there was pheasant from enchanted wood,
And swan from fairy stream; and these among
Were chalices of eastern dew-wine, brew'd
By pearly hands, in fair Arabian solitude.

And golden berries steep'd in cream, were soon
Brought there from stores in Asian palaces;
And from the lonely mountains of the moon,
From which swarth Afric's serpent river frees

Its wily head, fish stranger than the seas

Hold in their deep green wastes, to the bright feast Were brought in coral dishes, by streak'd bees;

And fruit, the very loveliest and the least,

Came from young spangled trees in gardens of the east.