And safe from the whirlpool and free from the grave, Comes back to the daylight the soul of the brave!"
And he comes, with the crowd in their clamor and glee; And the goblet his daring has won from the water He lifts to the king as he sinks on his knee-
And the king from her maidens has beckoned his daughter. She pours to the boy the bright wine which they bring, And thus spoke the Diver-" Long life to the King!
"Happy they whom the rose-hues of daylight rejoice, The air and the sky that to mortals are given! May the horror below nevermore find a voice- Nor man stretch too far the wide mercy of Heaven! Nevermore, nevermore may he lift from the sight The veil which is woven with terror and night!
"Quick brightening like lightning, the ocean rushed o'er me, Wild floating, borne down fathom deep from the day; Till a torrent rushed out on the torrents that bore me, And doubled the tempest that whirled me away. Vain, vain was my struggle-the circle had won me, Round and round in its dance the mad element spun me.
"From the deep, then, I called upon God, and He heard me, In the dread of my need, He vouchsafed to mine eye A rock jutting out from the grave that interred me;
I sprung there, I clung there, and death passed me by, And, lo! where the goblet gleamed through the abyss, By a coral-reef saved from the far Fathomless.
"Below, at the foot of that precipice drear,
Spread the gloomy, and purple, and pathless Obscure! A silence of horror that slept on the ear,
That the eye more appalled might the horror endure! Salamander, snake, dragon-vast reptiles that dwell In the deep-coiled about the grim jaws of their hell. "Dark crawled, glided dark, the unspeakable swarms, Clumped together in masses, misshapen and vast; Here clung and here bristled the fashionless forms; Here the dark, moving bulk of the hammer-fish passed;
And, with teeth grinning white, and a menacing motion, Went the terrible shark-the hyena of ocean.
"There I hung, and the awe gathered icily o'er me,
So far from the earth, where man's help there was none! The one human thing, with the goblins before meAlone--in a loneness so ghastly-alone !
Deep under the reach of the sweet living breath,
And begirt with the broods of the desert of death.
Methought, as I gazed through the darkness, that now I saw a dread hundred-limbed creature-its prey!-
And darted, devouring; I sprang from the bough Of the coral, and swept on the horrible way; And the whirl of the mighty wave seized me once more, It seized me to save me, and dash to the shore."
On the youth gazed the monarch, and marvelled: quoth he, "Bold diver, the goblet I promised is thine;
And this ring I will give, a fresh guerdon to thee- Never jewels more precious shone up from the mine- If thou'lt bring me fresh tidings, and venture again, To say what lies hid in the innermost main! "
Then out spake the daughter in tender emotion
"Ah! father, my father, what more can there rest?
Enough of this sport with the pitiless ocean
He has served thee as none would, thyself hast confest. If nothing can slake thy wild thirst of desire,
Let thy knights put to shame the exploit of the squire!"
The king seized the goblet, he swung it on high, And whirling, it fell in the roar of the tide : "But bring back that goblet again to my eye,
And I'll hold thee the dearest that rides by my side; And thine arms shall embrace, as thy bride, I decree, The maiden whose pity now pleadeth for thee."
And heaven, as he listened, spoke out from the space, And the hope that makes heroes shot flame from his eyes,
He gazed on the blush in that beautiful face- It pales-at the feet of her father she lies! How priceless the guerdon! a moment-a breath- And headlong he plunges to life and to death!
They hear the loud surges sweep back in their swell, Their coming the thunder-sound heralds along! Fond eyes yet are tracking the spot where he fell,- They come, the wild waters, in tumult and throng Roaring up to the cliff-roaring back as before, But no wave ever brings the lost youth to the shore!
HAD a hat-it was not all a hat
Part of the brim was gone-yet still I wore It on, and people wondered, as I passed; Some turned to gaze-others just cast an eye And soon withdrew it, as 'twere in contempt. But still my hat, although so fashionless In complement extern, had that within Surpassing show-my head continued warm, Being sheltered from the weather, spite of all The want, as has been said, of shading brim.
A change came o'er the color of my hat.
That which was black grew brown, and then men stared With both their eyes, they stared with one before, The wonder now was twofold-and it seemed Strange, that things so torn, and old, should still Be worn, by one who might-but let that pass! I had my reasons, which might be revealed, But for some counter reasons far more strong, Which tied my tongue to silence. Time passed on. Green Spring and flowery Summer, Autumn brown And frosty Winter came,—and went, and came,— And still, through all the seasons of two years, In park, in city, yea, in routs and balls,
The hat was worn, and borne. Then folks grew wild
With curiosity-and whispers rose,
And questions passed about-how one so trim
In coats, boots, pumps, gloves, trowsers, could ensconce His caput in a covering so vile.
A change came o'er the nature of
Grease-spots appeared; but still, in silence, on
I wore it; and then family and friends Glared madly at each other. There was one- Who said-but hold! no matter what was said, A time may come when I-away, away— Not till the season's ripe, can I reveal Thoughts that do lie too deep for common minds; Till then, the world shall not pluck out the heart Of this my mystery. When I will-I will! The hat was greasy now, and old, and torn— But torn, old, greasy, still I wore it on.
A change came o'er the business of this hat. Women, and men, and children scowled on me; My company was shunned-I was alone- None would associate with such a hat- Friendship itself proved faithless, for a hat. She that I loved, within whose gentle breast I treasured up my heart, looked cold as death: Love's fires went out, extinguished by a hat. Of those that knew me best, some turned aside, And scudded down dark lanes-one man did place His finger on his nose's side, and jeered— Others, in horrid mockery, laughed outright; Yea, dogs, deceived by instinct's dubious ray, Fixing their swart glare on my ragged hat, Mistook me for a beggar, and they barked. Thus women, men, friends, strangers, lover, dogs- One thought pervaded all-it was, my hat.
A clrange-it was the last-came o'er this hat. For lo! at length, the circling months went round, The period was accomplished, and one day This tattered, brown, old, greasy coverture,
Time had endeared its vileness, was transferred To the possession of a wandering son
Of Israel's fated race, and friends once more
Greeted my digits with the wonted squeeze : Once more I went my way along, along,
And plucked no wondering gaze; the hand of scorn, With its annoying finger, men and dogs,
Once more grew pointless, jokeless, laughless, growlless; And last, not least, of rescued blessings-love,
Love smiled on me again, when I assumed
A brand-new beaver of the Andre mold;
And then the laugh was mine, for then came out The secret of this strangeness-'twas a bet!
SHAMUS O'BRIEN.-LOVER.
JIST afther the war, in the year '98,
As soon as the boys wor all scattered and bate, "Twas the custom, whenever a pisant was got, To hang them by thrial-barrin' sich as were shot. There was trial by jury goin' on by daylight, And the martial law hangin' the lavins by night. It's them was hard times for an honest gossoon: If he missed in the judges, he'd meet a dragoon; An' whether the sodgers or judges gev sentence,. The divil a much time they allowed for repentance. An' it's many's the fine boy was then on his keepin' Wid small share iv restin', or atin', or sleepin'; An' because they loved Erin, and scorned to sell it, A prey for the bloodhound, a mark for the bullet- Unsheltered by night, and unrested by day,
With the heath for their barrack, revenge for their pay; An' the bravest an' hardiest boy of them all Was Shamus O'Brien, from the town of Glingall. His limbs were well set, an' his body was light,
An' the keen-fanged hound had not teeth half so white; But his face was as pale as the face of the dead,
And his cheek never warmed with the blush of the red;
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