Like the cloud that through the wilderness the path of Israel traced, Like an airy phantom, dull and wan, a spirit of the waste- From the sandy sea uprising, as the water-spout from ocean, A whirling cloud of dust keeps pace with the courser's fiery motion. Croaking companion of their flight, the vulture whirrs on high ; Below, the terror of the fold, the panther, fierce and sly, And hyenas foul, round graves that prowl, join in the horrid race; By the footprints wet with gore and sweat, their monarch's course they trace. They see him on his living throne, and quake with fear, the while With claws of steel he tears piecemeal his cushion's painted pile; On! on! no pause, no rest, giraffe, while life and strength remain ! The steed by such a rider backed may madly plunge in vain. Reeling upon the desert's verge, he falls and breathes his last; The courser, stained with dust and foam, is the rider's fell repast; O'er Madagascar, eastward far, a faint flush is descried; Thus nightly, o'er his broad domain, the king of beasts doth ride. THE FORSAKEN MERMAN.-(M. Arnold.) Come, dear children, let us away; Now my brothers call from the bay; Call her once before you go, Call once yet, In a voice that she will know : Children's voices should be dear "Mother dear, we cannot stay." The wild white horses foam and fret. Margaret! Margaret! Come, dear children, come away down, Call no more. One last look at the white-walled town, And the little grey church on the windy shore, Then come down, She will not come though you call all day. Come away, come away. Children dear, was it yesterday We heard the sweet bells over the bay? Through the surf and through the swell, Where the spent lights quiver and gleam; Children dear, was it yesterday On a red gold throne in the heart of the sea, She combed its bright hair, and she tended it well, sea, She said: "I must go, for my kinsfolk pray In the little grey church on the shore to-day. Children dear, were we long alone? Long prayers," I said, "in the world they say. From the church came a murmur of folk at their prayers, But we stood without in the cold blowing airs. We climbed on the graves, on the stones, worn with rains, And we gazed up the aisle through the small leaded panes. She sate by the pillar; we saw her clear: Margaret, hist! come quick, we are here. Dear heart," I said, "we are long alone. The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan." But, ah, she gave me never a look, For her eyes were sealed to the holy book. "Loud prays the priest; shut stands the door." Come away, children, call no more. Come away, come down, call no more. Down, down, down, Down to the depths of the sea. She sits at her wheel in the humming town, Hark, what she sings; "O joy, O joy, For the humming street, and the child with its toy; And the blessed light of the sun." And so she sings her fill, Singing most joyfully, Till the shuttle falls from her hand, And the whizzing wheel stands still. She steals to the window, and looks at the sand; For the cold strange eyes of a little Mermaiden, Come away, away, children. She will start from her slumber A pavement of pearl. Singing, "Here came a mortal, But faithless was she. And alone dwell for ever The kings of the sea." But children at midnight, |