into kindred frames. Soon too the fiery spirit shall rise again; shall exult in martial conflict; and in the cause of liberty daring to conquer, and not dreading to die.

XCI.

A drop of water fell out of a cloud into the sea, and finding itself lost in such an immensity of fluid matter, broke out into the following reflection: "Alas! What an inconsiderable creature am I in this prodigious ocean of waters! My existence is of no concern to the universe; I am reduced to a kind of nothing, and am less than the least of the works of God." It so happened that an oyster, which lay in the neighbourhood of this drop, chanced to gape and swallow it up in the midst of this its humble soliloquy. The drop, says the fable, lay a great while hardening in the shell, until by degrees it was refined into a pearl, which falling into the hands of a diver, after a long series of adventures, is at present that famous pearl which is fixed on the top of the Persian diadem.

Spectator.

XCI.

Into PROSE, literally rendered.

When a drop of water had fallen down from a cloud into the sea, overwhelmed in the infinite stream it thus reasoned with itself. "Alas for me, what a little one I am in this so great ocean! That I am at all, what does it concern the world? Thus reduced nearly to nothing, among the works of

God I am less even than the least." While it was thus talking to itself, by chance an oyster, which close at hand was lying beneath, swallowed up the drop with wide-open mouth. It however, so it is in the fable, was a long while hardening in the surface of the shell, until at last it became a pearl. Which when it came into the hands of a diver, afterwards meeting with a varied lot, now it is attached, remarkable beyond others, in the peak of the diadem of the King of the Persians.

XCII.

Fair blows the wind, the vessel drives along,
Her streamers fluttering at their length, her sails
All full, she drives along, and round her prow
Scatters the ocean spray. What feelings then
Fill'd every bosom, when the mariners,
After the peril of that weary way,

Beheld their own dear country! Here stands one
Stretching his sight toward the distant shore,
And as to well-known forms his busy joy
Shapes the dim outline, eagerly he points
The fancied headland and the cape and bay,
Till his eyes ache o'erstraining. This man shakes
His comrade's hand and bids him welcome home,
And blesses God, and then he weeps aloud.
Here stands another, who in secret prayer
Calls on the Virgin and his patron saint,
Renewing his old vows of gifts and alms
And pilgrimage, so he may find all well.

Southey.

XCII.

Into HEXAMETERS.

The breeze is favourable, and the exulting ship flits over the waters with easy course, and gives her canvas to the winds with full bosom, and the streamers waft fluttering at the masthead. The exulting ship scuds on, and with hoary spray the wave dances lightly around her, as though it gave kisses to the prow. What emotions of spirit, what conflicts of mind the sailors felt, when at last they were revisiting the dear shores of their country, after the thousand perils of the sea. One standing on the prow, stretches his eyes in longing for the distant land; in the obscure boundary of sight he imagines to himself various shapes, familiar spots, sharp rocks, and curved bays, and craggy heights of mountain, until by gazing his dulled vision wearies. That man renders thanks to God, with starting tears, he grasps his comrade's hand and hails him returning. That man, far off, inwardly, nor moving his lips, implores the aid of the blessed Virgin and his guardian divinity. He promises aid to the poor, and votive gifts, and holy wanderings, with which he may have bound himself of old, if the fates would restore him to his country with prosperous auspices.

XCIII.

THE SEA DIVER.

My way is on the bright blue sea,
My sleep upon its rocky tide;

And

has follow'd me

an eye
many
Where billows clasp the worn sea-side.

My plumage bears the crimson blush
Where ocean by the sun is kissed;
When fades the evening's purple flush,
My dark wing cleaves the silver mist.

Full many a fathom down, beneath
The bright arch of the splendid deep,
My ear has heard the sea-shell breathe
O'er living myriads in their sleep.

They rested by the coral throne,
And by the pearly diadem,

Where the pale sea-grape had o'ergrown
The glorious dwellings made for them.

XCIII.

Into ELEGIACS.

Lo my way is over the blue waves of the sea, I have safe repose in the rapid whirlpools. As I am borne in my course, a thousand eyes look forth, where the roaring billow strikes the worn shore. My plumage shines glittering with brightred hue, when the sun kisses the waters of ocean with his light. As the gilded rays lessen at the evening hour, my Moreover I glide

dark wing cuts through the mists of air. down to the hidden caves of the deep sea, where a hollow arch of water overhangs. Countless species rest beneath; but to them, and to me, the sea-shell gives its magic sounds. These lie where a seat is beneath them wrought of coral; where a

diadem shines jewelled with light. Where the pale grape had crept on with wondrous clusters through the splendid roof of the watery dwelling.

XCIV.

At night, upon my storm-drench'd wing,
I poised above a helmless bark,
And soon I saw the shattered thing
Had passed away and left no mark.

And when the wind and storm had done,
A ship, that had rode out the gale,
Sunk down-without a signal gun-
And none was left to tell the tale.

I saw the pomp of day depart,

The cloud resign its golden crown,
When to the ocean's beating heart
The sailor's wasted corse went down.

Peace be to those whose graves are made
Beneath the bright and silver sea;
Peace that their relics there were laid

With no vain pride and pageantry.

XCIV

Longfellow.

Into ELEGIACS.

Once in a stormy night my roving wing settled, where the wave bore a bark without a rudder. Soon I saw that shat