So the sweet lark, high poised in air,

Shuts close his pinions to his breast
If chance his mate's shrill call he hear,
And drops at once into her nest.
The noblest captain in the British fleet
Might envy William's lip those kisses sweet.

66

"O Susan, Susan, lovely dear !

My vows shall ever true remain ;
Let me kiss off that falling tear:
We only part to meet again.

Change as ye list, ye winds, my heart shall be
The faithful compass that still points to thee.

"Beliève not what the landmen say

Who tempt with doubts thy constant mind: They'll tell thee, sailors, when away,

In every port a mistress find.

Yes, yes, believe them when they tell thee so;
For thou art present wheresoe'er I go.

"If to far India's coast we sail,

Thy eyes are seen in diamonds bright,

Thy breath is Afric's spicy gale,

Thy skin is ivory so white:

Thus every beauteous object that I view
Wakes in my soul some charm of lovely Sue.

"Though battle call me from thy arms,

Let not my pretty Susan mourn :
Though cannons roar, yet, safe from harms,
William shall to his dear return.

Love turns aside the balls that round me fly,

Lest precious tears should drop from Susan's eye."

The boatswain gave the dreadful word,
The sails their swelling bosom spread:
No longer must she stay aboard.

They kissed, she sighed, he hung his head.
Her lessening boat unwilling rows to land:
"Adieu!" she cries, and waved her lily hand.

JOHN GAY.

SUMMER LONGINGS.

OWN by the sea, down by the sea,

DOWN

for me.

cool sandy beach lies waiting for me.
The waves they may plash,

The surf it may dash;

Be it sunshine or storm, for my coming they wait: Star-fish and mussel, and sweet-smiling skate All things of the sea

Are waiting for me.

Down by the sea, down by the sea,
A breezy piazza is waiting for me:
Or iced lemonade,

Croquet in the shade,

Or music at nightfall, with lamps on the lawn,
Or the surf rolling madly from midnight till dawn -
All joys of the sea

Are waiting for me.

Down by the sea, down by the sea,

A beautiful maiden is waiting for me:
I know not her name,

Nor wherefore she came ;

But I know by the moon overhead that it shines On the shore where a lady fair wanders and pines, (The maiden, you see,

Who's waiting for me.)

Down by the sea, down by the sea,

The morrow shall find me if morrow there be.
I'll stay there a while,

And live in her smile;

Enjoy the piazza, the surf, and the plash;
Be happy, so happy!— then, quite out of cash,
Come back from the shore

To the dusty old store,

And see her no more.

Heigho!

ANONYMOUS.

THE SEA.

(THE LOVER.)

You stooped, and picked a red-lipped shell

Beside the shining sea :

"This little shell, when I am gone,
Will whisper still of me."

I kissed your hands upon the sands,
For you were kind to me.

I hold the shell against my ear,
And hear its hollow roar :
It speaks to me about the sea,

But speaks of you no more.

I pace the sands, and wring my hands,

For you are kind no more.

RICHARD HENRY STODDARD.

THE CHAMBERED NAUTILUS.

HIS is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign,

THIS is the of pear

The venturous bark that flings

On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings
In gulfs enchanted, where the Siren sings,

And coral-reefs lie bare,

Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair.

Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl:
Wrecked is the ship of pearl!

And every chambered cell,

Where its dim dreaming life was wont to dwell,
As the frail tenant shaped his growing shell,
Before thee lies revealed,

Its irised ceiling rent, its sunless crypt unsealed.

Year after year beheld the silent toil

That spread his lustrous coil.

Still, as the spiral grew,

He left the past year's dwelling for the new,

Stole with soft step its shining archway through,

Built up its idle door,

Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no

more.

Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee,
Child of the wandering sea,

Cast from her lap forlorn!

From thy dead lips a clearer note is born

Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn.

While on mine ear it rings,

Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that

"Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul !

As the swift seasons roll;

Leave thy low-vaulted past!

Let each new temple, nobler than the last,
Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast,

Till thou at length art free,

Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea!"

OLIVER WENDELL HOLmes.

A

THE LONG WHITE SEAM.

SI came round the harbor-buoy,
The lights began to gleam;

No wave the land-locked harbor stirred;
The crags were white as cream;
And I marked my love by candle-light
Sewing her long white seam.

It's aye sewing ashore, my dear,
Watch and steer at sea;

It's reef and furl and haul the line,
Set sail, and think of thee.

I climbed to reach her cottage-door:

Oh, sweetly my love sings;

Like a shaft of light her voice breaks forth;
My soul to meet it springs,

As the shining water leaped of old

When stirred by angel wings.