And, Sir, one night, not long ago,-
December storms were beating,-

I heard her voice, so fond and dear,
Float down, my name repeating.
"The fir-trees rocked upon the hill,

And blast to blast was calling-
She said, 'The earth is dark and drear;
Come home, come home, my darling!'
"The black winds blew-the heavy hail
On hill and holt was driven-
She said,' Come up the golden stair,
And through the gate of heaven !'

"And soon, oh soon!"-but here her speech
Broke off; a sudden lightness
Passed o'er the child's pale cheek and brow,
As with a sunbeam's brightness,—

And she went wandering o'er the moor,
Low crooning some wild ditty :-
"God's calm," I said, " be on her shed,
And God's exceeding pity!"

UNDER MY WINDOW.

UNDER my window, under my window,
All in the midsummer weather,
Three little girls with fluttering curls
Flit to and fro, together;

There's Bell with her bonnet of satin sheen, And Maud, with her mantle of silver-green, And Jeanne, with the scarlet feather.

Under my window, under my window,
Leaning stealthily over;

Merry and clear, the voice I hear

Of each glad-hearted rover.

Ah! sly little Jeanne, she steals my roses,
And Maud and Bell twine wreaths and posica
As busy as bees in clover.

Under my window, under my window,
In the blue midsummer weather,
Stealing slow, on a hushed tiptoe,

I catch them all together.

Bell, with her bonnet of satin sheen,
And Maud, with her mantle of silver-green,
And Jeanne, with the scarlet feather.

Under my window, under my window,

And off, through the orc: ard closes, While Maud she flouts, and Bell she pouts, They scamper, and drop their posies ; But dear little Jeanne takes naught amiss. And leaps in my arms with a loving kiss, And I give her all my roses.

MAUD.

LITTLE Maud, my queen!
Oh! the winsome lady!
All the bright midsummer day
Thrush and black-cap on the spray,
Sing for her so blithe and gar,

In the wood-depths shady.
Ah! but Maud, my queen,

By your troth remember, You've a poet, all your own, Keeps for you his sweetest tone, Singing, not in June alone,

But in bleak December. Maud, my lady, if you please, Say whose singing's best of these?

Little Maud, my queen!

Oh! the winsome lady! Leaps her lap-dog to and fro, Fawning-fond her hound doth grow. When she pats and pats them so, In the wood-depths shady. Ah! but Maud, my queen, By your troth remember, You've a poet loves you still, Be your humor what it will Cross or kind, or warm or chill, June or bleak December. Maud, my lady, if you please, Say whose loving's best of these

They rowed her in across the rolling foam,
The cruel crawling foam,

The cruel hungry foam

To her grave beside the sea:

But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle home Across the sands of Dee!

EARL HALDAN'S DAUGHTER. A BALLAD-A. D. 1400.

IT was Earl Haldan's daughter,

She looked across the sea;
She looked across the water,
And long and loud laughed she:
"The locks of six princesses
Must be my marriage-fee,

To hey bonny boat, and ho bonny boat!
Who comes a-wooing me!"

It was Earl Haldan's daughter,
She walked along the sand:

When she was aware of a knight so fair,
Come sailing to the land.

His sails were all of velvet,
His mast of beaten gold,

And "hey bonny boat, and bo bonny boat,
Who saileth here so bold?"

"The locks of five princesses I won beyond the sea;

I shore their golden tresses, To fringe a cloak for thee.

One handful yet is wanting,

But one of all the tale;

So hey bonny boat, and ho bonny boat! Furl up thy velvet sail!"

He leapt into the water,

That rover young and bold;

He gript Earl Hallan's daughter,
He shore her locks of gold;

"Go weep, go weep, proud maiden,
The tale is full to-day.

Now hey bonny boat, and ho bonny boat! Sail Westwar I ho, and away!".

THE LAST BUCCANEER.

A BALLAD-A. D. 1740.

OH England is a pleasant place for them that's rich and high;

But England is a cruel place for such poor folk: as I;

And such a port for mariners I ne'er shall see again,

As the pleasant Isle of Avès, beside the Spar.sh main.

There were forty craft in Avès that were both swift and stout,

All furnished well with small arms and cannons round about;

And a thousand men in Avès made laws so fair and free

To choose their valiant captains and obey them loyally.

Thence we sailed against the Spaniard with his hoards of plate and gold,

Which he wrung by cruel tortures from the Indian folk of old;

Likewise the merchant captains, with hearts as hard as stone,

Which flog men and keel-haul them and starve them to the bone.

Oh the palms grew high in Avès and fruits that shone like gold,

And the colibris and parrots they were gorgeous to behold;

And the negro maids to Avès from bondage fast did flee,

To welcome gallant sailors a-sweeping in from sea.

Oh sweet it was in Avès to hear the landward breeze A-swing with good tobacco in a net between the

trees,

A MYTH.

A FLOATING, a floating
Across the sleeping sea,

All night I heard a singing bird
Upon the topmost tree.

"Oh, came you from the isles of Grecce, Or from the banks of Seine,

Or off some tree in forests free,
Which fringe the Western main?"

"I came not off the old world-
Nor yet from off the new-
But I am one of the birds of God
Which sing the whole night through."
"Oh sing and wake the dawning,
Oh whistle for the wind;

The night is long, the current strong,
My boat it lags behind."

"The current sweeps the old world,
The current sweeps the new;
The wind will blow, the dawn will glow
Ere thou hast sailed them through."

THERE SITS A BIRD.

THERE sits a bird on every tree,
With a heigh-ho!

There sits a bird on every tree,
Sings to his love, as I to thee,

With a heigh-ho, and a heigh-ho!
Young maids must marry.

There grows a flower on every bough,
With a heigh-ho!

There grows a flower on every bough,
Its gay leaves kiss-I'll show you how;
With a heigh-ho, and a heigh-ho!
Young maids must marry.

The sun's a bridegroom, earth a bride, With a heigh-ho!

The sun's a bridegroom, earth a bride,
They court from morn to eventide :
The earth shall pass, but love abide.
With a heigh-ho, and a heigh-ho!
Young maids must marry.

QUA CURSUM VENTUS.

As ships, becalmed at eve, that lay

With canvas drooping, side by side, Two towers of sail at dawn of day

Are scarce, long leagues apart, descried;
When fell the night, upsprung the breeze,
And all the darkling hours they plied,
Nor dreamt but each the self-same scas
By each was cleaving, side by side:
E'en so-but why the tale reveal

Of those whom, year by year unchanged,
Brief absence joined anew to feel,

Astounded, soul from soul enstranged? At dead of night their sails were filled, And onward each rejoicing steered :Ah, neither blame, for neither willed,

Or wist, what first with dawn appeared!

To veer, how vain! On, onward strain,

Brave barks! In light, in darkness too,
Through winds and tides one compass guides,
To that, and your own selves, be true.
But O blithe breeze, and O great seas,
Though ne'er, that earliest parting past,
On your wide plain they join again,

Together lead them home at last!
One port, methought, alike they sought,
One purpose hold where'er they fare,—

O bounding breeze, O rushing seas,
At last, at last, unite them there!

THE SONG OF LAMECH.

HEARKEN to me, ye mothers of my tent:
Ye wives of Lamech, hearken to my speech:
Adah, let Jubal hither lead his goats;
And Tubal Cain, O Zillah, hush the forge;
Naamah her wheel shall ply beside, and thou,
My Jubal, touch, before I speak, the string.
Yea, Jubal, touch, before I speak, the string.
Hear ye my voice, beloved of my tent,
Dear ones of Lamech, listen to my speech.

Scarce seen, amid the foldings of his limbs.
But when the sin was bright upon the field,
To Adam still, and Eve still waiting by,
And weeping, lift he up his voice and spake.
Cain said, "The sun is risen upon the earth;
The day demands my going, and I go.--
As you from Paradise, so I from you :
As you to exile, into exile I :

My father and my mother, I depart.
As betwixt you and Paradise of old,
So betwixt me, my parents, now, and yon,
Cherubim I discern, and in their hand
A flaming sword that turneth every way,
To keep the way of my one tree of life.
The way my spirit yearns to, of my love.
Yet not, O Adam and O Eve, fear not.
For He that asked me, Where is Abel? He

Who called me cursed from the earth, and said.
A fugitive and vagabond thou art,

He also said, when fear had slain my soul,
There shall not touch thee man nor be ist. Fear not
Lo, I have spoke with God, and He hath said,
Fear not ;-and let me go as He hath said."
Cain also said (O Jubal, touch thy string),-

For when the years were multiplied, and Cain
Eastward of Eden, in this land of Ned,
Had sons, and sons of sons, and sons of them,
Enoch and Irad and Mehujael

(My father, and my children's grandsire he),
It came to pass that Cain, who dwelt alone,
Met Adam, at the nightfall, in the field:
Who fell upon his neck, and wept, and said,

O, if I cursed thee, O my child, I sinned,

And He that heard me, heard, and said me Nay:
My first, my only one, thou shalt not go."
And Adam answered also, "Cain, my son,
He that is gone forgiveth, we forgive :
Rob not thy mother of two sons at once;
My child abide with us and comfort us."

And Cain replied, when weeping loosed his voice
My dreams are double, O my father, good
And evil :-terror to my soul by night,
And agony by day, when Abel stands

A dead, black shade, and speaks not, neither looka
Nor makes me any answer when I cry,
Curse me, but let me know thou art alive!