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SONG.

OUR boat to the waves go free,

By the bending tide, where the curled wave breaks, Like the track of the wind on the white snow-flakes; Away! away! 'Tis a path o'er the sea.

Blasts may rave!-spread the sail,

For our spirits can wrest the power from the wind, And the gray clouds yield to the sunny mind; Fear not we the whirl of the gale.

Waves on the beach, and the wild sea-foam,
With a leap, and a dash, and a sudden cheer,
Where the sea-weed makes its bending home,
And the sea-birds swim on the crests so clear,
Wave after wave, they are curling o'er,
Where the white sand dazzles along the shore.
W. E. CHANNING.

BALLAD.

He stood on the rock,

And he looked on the sea, And he said of his false Love, 'My Love, where is she?'

'Have they bought her with bracelets And lured her with gold?

Is her love for her lover

A tale that is told?'

From the crest of the wave,
In the deep of the gulf,

Came a voice that cried, 'Save!
For behold the sea-wolf!'

He stood on the rock,

And he looked on the wave, And he said, 'Oh! St. Ulfrid, Who's this that cries, Save!'

Then arose from the billow,
A head with a crown,
And two hands that divided
The hair falling down.

As the foam in the moonlight
The two hands were fair,
And they put by the tangles
Of sea-weed and hair.

He knew the pale forehead -
A spell to his ear

Was the voice that repeated,
'The sea-wolf is here!'

'I come, Love,' he answered;At sunrise next day

A fisherman wakened

The Priest in the Bay.

'For the soul of a sinner Let masses be said

The sin shall be nameless,

And nameless the dead.'

HENRY TAYLOR.

NIGHT AND MORNING.

I.

THE grey sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon, large and low;
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its speed in the slushy sand.

Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick, sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,

And a voice less loud, through its joys and fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each!

II.

Round the cape of a sudden came the sea,
And the sun looked over the mountain's rim,
And straight was a path of gold for him,
And the need of a world of men for me.

ROBERT BROWNING.

LEANDER SWIMMING.

THEN at the flame a torch fair Hero lit,
And o'er her head anxiously holding it,
Ascended to the roof; and leaning there,
Lifted its light into the darksome air.

The boy beheld, — beheld it from the sea,
And parted his wet locks, and breathed with glee,
And rose, in swimming, more triumphantly.

Smooth was the sea that night, the lover strong,
And in the springy waves he danced along.
He rose, he dipped his breast, he aimed, he cut
With his clear arms, and from before him put
The parting waves, and in and out the air
His shoulders felt, and trailed his washing hair;
But when he saw the torch, oh! how he sprung,
And thrust his feet against the waves, and flung
The foam behind, as though he scorned the sea,
And parted his wet locks, and breathed with glee,
And rose, and panted, most triumphantly!

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