the singer's skill;

Then smiled he with a lofty pride;

right well at last he knew

The maiden of the spinning-wheel was to her troth-plight true.

"Ah, roguish little Elsie! you act your part full well:

You know that I must bear my shield and in my castle dwell!

"The lions ramping on that shield between the hearts aflame

Keep watch o'er Denmark's honor, and guard her ancient name. For know that I am Volmer; I dwell in yonder towers,

Who ploughs them ploughs up Denmark, this goodly home of ours!

"I tempt no more, fair Elsie! your heart I know is true;

Would God that all our maidens were

good and pure as you!

Well have you pleased your monarch, and he shall well repay; God's peace! Farewell! To-morrow will bring another day!"

He lifted up his bridle hand, he spurred his good steed then,

And like a whirl-blast swept away with all his gallant men.

The steel hoofs beat the rocky path; again on winds of morn The wood resounds with cry of hounds and blare of hunter's horn.

"Thou true and ever faithful!" the listening Henrik cried; And, leaping o'er the green hedge, he stood by Elsie's side. None saw the fond embracing, save, shining from afar,

The Golden Goose that watched them from the tower of Valdemar.

O darling girls of Denmark! of all the flowers that throng

Her vales of spring the fairest, I sing for you my song.

has plenty still!

THE THREE BELLS.

BENEATH the low-hung night cloud
That raked her splintering mast
The good ship settled slowly,
The cruel leak gained fast.

Over the awful ocean

Her signal guns pealed out. Dear God! was that thy answer From the horror round about?

A voice came down the wild wind, "Ho! ship ahoy!" its cry: "Our stout Three Bells of Glasgow Shall lay till daylight by!"

Hour after hour crept slowly,

Yet on the heaving swells Tossed up and down the ship-lights. The lights of the Three Bells!

And ship to ship made signals,

Man answered back to man, While oft, to cheer and hearten,

The Three Bells nearer ran;

And the captain from her taffrail Sent down his hopeful cry. "Take heart! Hold on!" he shouted, "The Three Bells shall lay by!"

All night across the waters

The tossing lights shone clear; All night from reeling taffrail The Three Bells sent her cheer.

And when the dreary watches

Of storm and darkness passed, Just as the wreck lurched under,

All souls were saved at last.

Sail on, Three Bells, forever,

In grateful memory sail! Ring on, Three Bells of rescue, Above the wave and gale!

Type of the Love eternal,
Repeat the Master's cry,
As tossing through our darkness
The lights of God draw nigh!

NOTE 1, page 1.

MOGG MEGONE, or Hegone, was a leader among the Saco Indians, in the bloody war of 1677. He attacked and captured the garrison at Black Point, October 12th of that year; and cut off, at the same time, a party of Englishmen near Saco River. From a deed signed by this Indian in 1664, and from other circumstances, it seems that, previous to the war, he had mingled much with the colonists. On this account, he was probably selected by the principal sachems as their agent in the treaty signed in November, 1676.

NOTE 5, page 2.

Captain Harmon, of Georgeana, now York, was, for many years, the terror of the Eastern Indians. In one of his expeditions up the Kennebec River, at the head of a party of rangers, he discovered twenty of the savages asleep by a large fire. Cautiously creeping towards them until he was certain of his aim, he ordered his men to single out their objects. The first discharge killed or mortally wounded the whole number of the unconscious sleepers. NOTE 6, page 2.

Wood Island, near the mouth of the Saco. It was visited by the Sieur de Monts and Champlain, in 1603. The following extract, from the journal of the latter, relates to it: "Having left the Kennebec, we ran along the coast to the westward, and cast anchor under a small island, near the mainland, where we saw twenty or more natives. Í here visited an island, beautifully clothed with a fine growth of forest trees, particularly of the oak and walnut; and overspread with vines, that, in their season, produce excellent grapes. We named it the island of Bacchus." - Les Voyages de Sieur Champlain, Liv. 2, c. 8.

NOTE 7, page 2.

John Bonython was the son of Richard Bonython, Gent., one of the most efficient and able magistrates of the Colony. John proved to be "a degenerate plant." In 1635, we find, by the Court Records, that, for some offence, he was fined 40 s. In 1640, he was fined for abuse toward R. Gibson, the minister, and Mary his wife. Soon after he was fined for disorderly conduct in the house of his father. In 1645, the "Great and General Court" adjudged John Bonython outlawed, and incapable of any of his Majesty's laws, and proclaimed him a rebel." (Court Records of the Prov

ince, 1645.) In 1651, he bade defiance to the laws of Massachusetts, and was again outlawed. He acted independently of all law and authority; and hence, doubtless, his burlesque title of "The Sagamore of Saco," which has come down to the present generation in the following epitaph:

"Here lies Bonython; the Sagamore of Saco, He lived a rogue, and died a knave, and went to Hobomoko."

By some means or other, he obtained a large estate. In this poem, I have taken some liberties with him, not strictly warranted by historical facts, although the conduct imputed to him is in keeping with his general character. Over the last years of his life lingers a deep obscurity. Even the manner of his death is uncertain. He was supposed to have been killed by the Indians; but this is doubted by the able and indefatigable author of the History of Saco and Biddeford. - Part I. p. 115.

NOTE 8, page 2.

Foxwell's Brook flows from a marsh or bog, called the "Heath," in Saco, containing thirteen hundred acres. On this brook, and surrounded by wild and romantic scenery, is a beautiful waterfall, of more than sixty feet.

NOTE 9, page 3.

Hiacoomes, the first Christian preacher on Martha's Vineyard; for a biography of whom the reader is referred to Increase Mayhew's account of the Praying Indians, 1726. The following is related of him: "One Lord's day, after meeting, where Hiacoomes had been preaching, there came in a Powwaw very angry, and said, 'I know all the meeting Indians are liars. You say you don't care for the Powwaws';- then calling two or three of them by name, he railed at them, and told them they were deceived, for the Powwaws could kill all the meeting Indians, if they set about it. But Hiacoomes told him that he would be in the midst of all the Powwaws in the

island, and they should do the utmost they could against him; and when they should do their worst by their witchcraft to kill him, he would without fear set himself against them, by remembering Jehovah. He told them also he did put all the Powwaws under his heel. Such was the faith of this good man. Nor were these Powwaws ever able to do these Christian Indians any hurt, though others were frequently hurt and killed by them.". Mayhew, pp. 6, 7, c. I.

66

NOTE 12, page 6.

Wetuomanit, -a house god, or demon. 'They the Indians - have given me the names of thirty-seven gods which I have, all which in their solemne Worships they invocate!" R. Williams's Briefe Observations of the Customs, Manners, Worships, &c., of the Natives, in Peace and Warre, in Life and Death: on all which is added Spiritual Observations, General and Particular, of Chiefe and Special use upon all occasions - to all the English inhabiting these parts; yet Pleasant and Profitable to the view of all Mene. 110, c. 21.

NOTE 13, page 7.

P.

Mt. Desert Island, the Bald Mountain upon which overlooks Frenchman's and Penobscot Bay. It was upon this island that the Jesuits made their earliest settlement.

NOTE 14, page 8.

Father Hennepin, a missionary among the Iroquois, mentions that the Indians believed him to be a conjurer, and that they were particularly afraid of a bright silver chalice which he had in his possession. "The Indians," says Père Jerome Lallamant, "fear us as the greatest sorcerers on earth."

NOTE 15, page 8.

the famous warrior and chieftain of NorBomazeen is spoken of by Penhallow, as ridgewock." He was killed in the attack of the English upon Norridgewock, in 1724.

NOTE 16, page 9.

Père Ralle, or Rasles, was one of the most zealous and indefatigable of that band of Jesuit missionaries who, at the beginning of the seventeenth century, penetrated the forests of America, with the avowed object of converting the heathen. The