THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS.

IT was the schooner Hesperus,

That sailed the wintry sea;

And the skipper had taken his little daughter, To bear him company.

Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax,

Her cheeks like the dawn of day,
And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds,
That ope in the month of May.

The skipper he stood beside the helm,
His pipe was in his mouth,

And he watched how the veering flaw did blow
The smoke now West, now South.

Then up and spake an old Sailòr,

Had sailed to the Spanish Main,

"I pray thee, put into yonder port, For I fear a hurricane.

"Last night, the moon had a golden ring,
And to-night no moon we see!"

The skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe,
And a scornful laugh laughed he.

Colder and louder blew the wind,

A gale from the Northeast,

The snow fell hissing in the brine,

And the billows frothed like yeast.

Down came the storm, and smote amain
The vessel in its strength;

She shuddered and paused, like a frightened steed,
Then leaped her cable's length.

"O father! I hear the church-bells ring, O say, what may it be?"

""T is a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!"And he steered for the open sea.

"O father! I hear the sound of guns, O say, what may it be?" "Some ship in distress, that cannot live In such an angry sea!"

"O father! I see a gleaming light,

O say, what may it be?
But the father answered never a word,
A frozen corpse was he.

Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark,
With his face turned to the skies,
The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow
On his fixed and glassy eyes.

Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed That saved she might be;

And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave On the Lake of Galilee.

And fast through the midnight dark and drear
Through the whistling sleet and snow,
Like a sheeted ghost, the vessel swept
Tow'rds the Reef of Norman's Woe.

And ever the fitful gusts between

A sound came from the land;

It was the sound of the trampling surf On the rocks and the hard sea-sand.

And do not tremble so;

For I can weather the roughest gale

That ever wind did blow."

He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat
Against the stinging blast;

He cut a rope from a broken spar,
And bound her to the mast.

She drifted a dreary wreck, And a whooping billow swept the crew

Like icicles from her deck.

She struck where the white and fleecy waves
Looked soft as carded wool,

But the cruel rocks, they gored her side
Like the horns of an angry bull.

32

Then speaks the Lord, and waves it light:
"This glass of flashing crystal tall
Gave to my sires the Fountain-Sprite;
She wrote in it, If this glass doth fall,
Farewell then, O Luck of Edenhall!

"T was right a goblet the Fate should be
Of the joyous race of Edenhall!
Deep draughts drink we right willingly;
And willingly ring, with merry call,
Kling! klang! to the Luck of Edenhall!"

First rings it deep, and full, and mild,
Like to the song of a nightingale;
Then like the roar of a torrent wild;

Then mutters at last like the thunder's fall,
The glorious Luck of Edenhall.

"For its keeper takes a race of might,
The fragile goblet of crystal tall;
It has lasted longer than is right;
Kling! klang!. with a harder blow than all
Will I try the Luck of Edenhall!"

As the goblet ringing flies apart,
Suddenly cracks the vaulted hall;
And through the rift, the wild flames start;
The guests in dust are scattered all,
With the breaking Luck of Edenhall!

In storms the foe, with fire and sword;
He in the night had scaled the wall,
Slain by the sword lies the youthful Lord,
But holds in his hand the crystal tall,
The shattered Luck of Edenhall.

THE ELECTED KNIGHT.

FROM THE DANISH.

SIR OLUF he rideth over the plain,

Full seven miles broad and seven miles wide But never, ah never can meet with the man A tilt with him dare ride.

He saw under the hillside

A Knight full well equipped;

His steed was black, his helm was barred; He was riding at full speed.

He wore upon his spurs

Twelve little golden birds;

Anon he spurred his steed with a clang,
And there sat all the birds and sang.

He wore upon his mail

Twelve little golden wheels;

Anon in eddies the wild wind blew,

And round and round the wheels they flew.

He wore before his breast

A lance that was poised in rest;
And it was sharper than diamond-stone,
It made Sir Oluf's heart to groan.

He wore upon his helm

A wreath of ruddy gold;

And that gave him the Maidens Three,
The youngest was fair to behold.

Sir Oluf questioned the Knight eftsoon
If he were come from heaven down;
"Art thou Christ of Heaven," quoth he,
"So will I yield me unto thee."

"I am not Christ the Great,
Thou shalt not yield thee yet;

I am an Unknown Knight,

Three modest Maidens have me bedight."

"Art thou a Knight elected,

And have three Maidens thee bedight;
So shalt thou ride a tilt this day,
For all the Maidens' honor !""

The first tilt they together rode
They put their steeds to the test;
The second tilt they together rode,
They proved their manhood best,

The third tilt they together rode,
Neither of them would yield;
The fourth tilt they together rode,
They both fell on the field.

Now lie the lords upon the plain,

And their blood runs unto death; Now sit the Maidens in the high tower, The youngest sorrows till death.

Gleaming stood in the morning's sheen. On the spire of the belfry,

Decked with a brazen cock, the friendly flames of the Spring-sun

Glanced like the tongues of fire, beheld by Apostles aforetime.

Clear was the heaven and blue, and May, with her cap crowned with roses,

Stood in her holiday dress in the fields, and the wind and the brooklet

Murmured gladness and peace, God's-peace! with lips rosy-tinted

Whispered the race of the flowers, and merry on balancing branches

Birds were singing their carol, a jubilant hymn to the Highest.

Swept and clean was the churchyard. Adorned like a leaf-woven arbor

Stood its old-fashioned gate; and within upon each cross of iron

Hung was a fragrant garland, new twined by the hands of affection.

Even the dial, that stood on a mound among the departed,

(There full a hundred years had it stood), was embellished with blossoms.

Like to the patriarch hoary, the sage of his kith and the hamlet,

Who on his birthday is crowned by children and children's children,

So stood the ancient prophet, and mute with his pencil of iron

Marked on the tablet of stone, and measured the time and its changes,

While all around at his feet, an eternity slumbered in quiet.

Also the church within was adorned, for this was the season

When the young, their parents' hope, and the loved-ones of heaven,

Should at the foot of the altar renew the vows of their baptism.

Therefore each nook and corner was swept and

cleaned, and the dust was

Blown from the walls and ceiling, and from the oil-painted benches.

There stood the church like a garden; the Feast of the Leafy Pavilions

Saw we in living presentment. From noble arms on the church wall

Grew forth a cluster of leaves, and the preacher's pulpit of oak-wood

Budded once more anew, as aforetime the rod before Aaron.

Wreathed thereon was the Bible with leaves, and the dove, washed with silver, Under its canopy fastened, had on it a necklace of wind-flowers.

But in front of the choir, round the altar-piece painted by Hörberg,

Crept a garland gigantic; and bright-curling tresses of angels

Peeped, like the sun from a cloud, from out of the shadowy leaf-work.

Likewise the lustre of brass, new-polished, blinked from the ceiling,

And for lights there were lilies of Pentecost set in the sockets.

Loud rang the bells already; the thronging crowd was assembled

Far from valleys and hills, to list to the holy preaching.

Hark! then roll forth at once the mighty tones of the organ,

Hover like voices from God, aloft like invisible spirits.

Like as Elias in heaven, when he cast from off him his mantle,

So cast off the soul its garments of earth; and with one vo.ce

Chimed in the congregation, and sang an anthem immortal

Of the sublime Wallin, of David's harp in the North-land

Tuned to the choral of Luther; the song on its mighty pinions

Took every living soul, and lifted it gently to heaven And each face did shine like the Holy One's face upon Tabor.

Lo! there entered then into the church the Reverend Teacher.

Father he hight and he was in the parish; a Christianly plainness

Clothed from his head to his feet the old man of seventy winters.

Friendly was he to behold, and glad as the heralding angel

Walked he among the crowds, but still a contemplative grandeur

Lay on his forehead as clear as on moss-covered gravestone a sunbeam.

As in his inspiration (an evening twilight that faintly

Gleams in the human soul, even now, from the day of creation)

Th' Artist, the friend of heaven, imagines Saint John when in Patmos,

Gray, with his eyes uplifted to heaven, so seemed then the old man ;

Such was the glance of his eye, and such were his tresses of silver.

All the congregation arose in the pews that were numbered.

But with a cordial look, to the right and the left hand, the old man

Nodding all hail and peace, disappeared in the innermost chancel.

Simply and solemnly now proceeded the Christian service,

Singing and prayer, and at last an ardent dis

course from the old man.

Many a moving word and warning, that out of the heart came,

Fell like the dew of the morning, like manna on those in the desert.

Then, when all was finished, the Teacher reentered the chancel,

Followed therein by the young. The boys on the right had their places,

Delicate figures. with close-curling hair and cheeks rosy-blooming.

But on the left of these there stood the tremulous lilies,

Tinged with the blushing light of the dawn, the diffident maidens,

Folding their hands in prayer, and their eyes cast down on the pavement.

Now came, with question and answer, the catechism. In the beginning

Answered the children with troubled and faltering voice, but the old man's Glances of kindness encouraged them soon, and the doctrines eternal

Flowed, like the waters of fountains, so clear from lips unpolluted.

Each time the answer was closed, and as oft as they named the Redeemer,

Lowly louted the boys, and lowly the maidens all courtesied.

Friendly the Teacher stood, like an angel of light there among them,

And to the children explained the holy, the highest, in few words,

Thorough, yet simple and clear, for sublimity always is simple,

Both in sermon and song, a child can seize on its meaning.

E'en as the green-growing bud unfolds when Springtide approaches,

Leaf by leaf puts forth, and warmed, by the radiant sunshine,

Blushes with purple and gold, till at last the perfected blossom

Opens its odorous chalice, and rocks with its crown in the breezes,

So was unfolded here the Christian lore of salvation,

Line by line from the soul of childhood. fathers and mothers

The

"This is the faith of the Fathers, the faith the Apostles delivered,

This is moreover the faith whereunto I baptized you, while still

ye

Lay on your mother's breasts, and nearer the portals of heaven.

Slumbering received you then the Holy Church in its bosom;

Wakened from sleep are ye now, and the light in its radiant splendor

Downward rains from the heaven;-to-day on the threshold of childhood

Kindly she frees you again, to examine and make your election

For she knows naught of compulsion, and only conviction desireth.

This is the hour of your trial, the turning-point of existence,

Seed for the coming days; without revocation departeth

Now from your lips the confession; Bethink ye, before ye make answer!

Think not, O think not with guile to deceive the questioning Teacher.

Sharp is his eye to-day, and a curse ever rests upon falsehood.

Enter not with a lie on Life's journey; the multi

tude hears you, Brothers and sisters and parents, what dear upon earth is and holy

Standeth before your sight as a witness; the
Judge everlasting
Looks from the sun down upon you, and angels in
waiting beside him

Grave your confession in letters of fire upon tablets eternal.

Thus, then,-believe ye in God, in the Father who this world created?

Him who redeemed it, the Son, and the Spirit where both are united?

Will ye promise me here, (a holy promise!) to cherish

God more than all things earthly, and every man as a brother?

Will ye promise me here, to confirm your faith by your living,

Th'

heavenly faith of affection! to hope, to forgive, and to suffer,

Be what it may your condition, and walk before God in uprightness?

Will ye promise me this before God and man?"— With a clear veice

Answered the young men Yes! and Yes! with lips softly-breathing

Answered the maidens eke. Then dissolved from the brow of the Teacher

Clouds with the lightnings therein, and he spake in accents more gentle,

Soft as the evening's breath; as harps by Babylon's rivers.

Resteth the Christian Faith; she herself from on high is descended.

Strong as a man and pure as a child, is the sum of the doctrine,

Which the Divine One taught, and suffered and died on the cross for.

O, as ye wander this day from childhood's sacred asylum

Downward and ever downward, and deeper in Age's chill valley,

O,

how soon will ye come,-too soon-and long to turn backward

Up to its hill-tops again, to the sun-illumined, where Judgment

Stood like a father before you, and Pardon, clad like a mother,

Gave you her hand to kiss, and the loving heart was forgiven,

Life was a play and your hands grasped after the roses of heaven!

Seventy years have I lived already; the Father eternal

Gave me gladness and care; but the loveliest hours of existence,

When I have steadfastly gazed in their eyes, I have instantly known them, Known them all again;-they were my childhood's acquaintance.

Therefore take from henceforth, as guides in the paths of existence,

Prayer, with her eyes raised to heaven, and Innocence, bride of man's childhood. Innocence, child beloved, is a guest from the world of the blessed,

Beautiful, and in her hand a lily; on life's roaring billows

Swings she in safety, she heedeth them not, in the ship she is sleeping.

Calmly she gazes around in the turmoil of men; in the desert

Angels descend and minister unto her; she herself knoweth

Naught of her glorious attendance; but follows faithful and humble,

Follows so long as she may her friend; O do not reject her,

For she cometh from God and she holdeth the keys of the heavens.

Prayer is Innocence' friend; and willingly flieth incessant

"Twixt the earth and the sky, the carrier-pigeon of heaven.

Son of Eternity, fettered in Time, and an exile, the Spirit

Tugs at his chains evermore, and struggles like flame ever upward.

Still he recalls with emotion his Father's manifold mansions,

Thinks of the land of his fathers, where blossomed more freshly the flowerets,

Shone a more beautiful sun, and he played with the winged angels.

Then grows the earth too narrow, too close; and homesick for heaven

Longs the wanderer again; and the Spirit's longings are worship;

Worship is called his most beautiful hour, and its tongue is entreaty.

Ah! when the infinite burden of life descendeth upon us,

Crushes to earth our hope, and, under the earth, in the graveyard,

Then it is good to pray unto God; for his sorrowing children

Turns he ne'er from his door, but he heals and helps and consoles them.

Yet is it better to pray when all things are prosperous with us,

Pray in fortunate days, for life's most beautiful Fortune

Kneels before the Eternal's throne; and with hands interfolded,

Praises thankful and moved the only giver of blessings,

Or do ye know, ye children, one blessing that comes not from Heaven?

What has mankind forsooth, the poor! that it has not received?

Therefore, fall in the dust and pray! The seraphs adoring

Cover with pinions six their face in the glory of him who

Hung his masonry pendant on naught, when the world he created.

Earth declareth his might, and the firmament utters his glory.

Races blossom and die, and stars fall downward from heaven,

Downward like withered leaves; at the last stroke of midnight, millenniums

Lay themselves down at his feet, and he sees them, but counts them as nothing. Who shall stand in his presence? The wrath of the judge is terrific.

Casting the insolent down at a glance. When he speaks in his anger

Hillocks skip like the kid, and mountains leap like the roebuck.

Yet,-why are ye afraid, ye children? This aw

ful avenger,

Ah! is a merciful God! God's voice was not in the earthquake,

Not in the fire, nor the storm, but it was in the whispering breezes.

Love is the root of creation; God's essence; worlds without number

Loved you, as God has loved you; for 't was that you may be happy

Gave he his only Son.

When he bowed down his head in the death-hour Solemnized Love its triumph; the sacrifice then was completed.

Lo! then was rent on a sudden the veil of the temple, dividing

Earth and heaven apart, and the dead from their sepulchres rising

Whispered with pallid lips and low in the ears of each other

Th' answer, but dreamed of before, to creation's enigma,-Atonement !

Depths of Love are Atonement's depths, for Love is Atonement.

Therefore, child of mortality love thou the merciful Father;

Wish what the Holy One wishes, and not from fear, but affection;

Fear is the virtue of slaves; but the heart that loveth is willing;

Perfect was before God, and perfect is Love, and Love only.

Lovest thou God as thou oughtest, then lovest thou likewise thy brethren;

One is the sun in heaven, and one, only one, is Love also.

Bears not each human figure the godlike stamp on his forehead:

Readest thou not in his face thine origin? Is he not sailing

Lost like thyself on an ocean unknown, and is he not guided

By the same stars that guide thee? Why shouldst thou hate then thy brother? Hateth he thee, forgive! For 't is sweet to stammer one letter

Of the Eternal's language;-on earth it is called Forgiveness!

Knowest thou Him, who forgave, with the crown of thorns on his temples?

Earnestly prayed for his foes, for his murderers? Say, dost thou know him?

Ah! thou confessest his name, so follow likewise his example,

Think of thy brother no ill, but throw a veil over his failings,

Guide the erring aright; for the good, the heavenly shepherd

Took the lost lamb in his arms, and bore it back to its mother.

This is the fruit of Love, and it is by its fruits that we know it.

Love is the creature's welfare with God; but Love among mortals

Is but an endless sigh! He longs, and endures, and stands waiting,

Suffers and yet rejoices, and smiles with tears on his eyelids.

Hope,—so is called upon earth, his recompense,Hope, the befriending,

Does what she can, for she points evermore up to heaven, and faithful

Plunges her anchor's peak in the depths of the grave, and beneath it

Paints a more beautiful world, a dim, but a sweet play of shadows!