He fixes his gaze upon the spot--
The glittering cascades ascend
Twenty feet high-then rustle down
On the backs of the monsters, bare and
brown;

Again and again-he sees them roll-
There are whales in the bay-A shoal!
A shoal!

V.

In the fulness of his joy, his face Reddens and his quick eager shout, Echoing over that silent place,

Call the inquiring people out. 'The whales! he cries and to behold Come the youthful and the old; Come the feeble and the strong; Men and women and girls; with boys, That whether for right, or whether for wrong,

Delight in the tumult and the noise; Rushing down with trampling feet, And cries that the echoing hills repeat.

VI.

And now the uproar thicker grows―
From side to side the clapper goes
In the kirk bell, as if its power
Had been redoubled for this hour;
As if in such a cause inspired,
It summon'd with gladness all the
flock;

And flags are waved, and guns are fired,
And bonfires kindled on the rock;
And that lone isle of the Western sea
Prepares for a day of jubilee.

VII.

'Leviathan! Leviathan!'

The minister cries, and shuts his book; And though a man of peace is he, As a preacher of the Word should be, He takes his musket from a nook, Rusty and old; and hastes away To join his people in the bay.

VIII.

His daughters fair have saddled their steeds,

Two young ponies sleek and brown;

hair,

And heads uncover'd, have gallop'd down

To see the sport-perchance to share. Old men have left their usual place By warm firesides, to join the chase, And one bedridden, half-crazy soul

Has started up at the people's roar, And the joyous cry 'a shoal! a shoal!' And hobbled on crutches to the door, To envy the limbs of the passers-by, And watch the sport with kindling eye.

IX.

The women have left their spinningwheels,

Their hose, their nets, their fishingcreels,

And arm'd themselves with pikes and

staves

To follow the monsters of the waves.
Fifty boats at least are ready-
With rowers strong and helmsmen
steady,

To drive the whales into shallow water, And dye the beach with the blood of slaughter.

X.

Merrily ring the bells

Merrily wave the flagsMerrily shout the people

That watch upon the crags. Merrily row the boats

Merrily swell the sailsAnd merrily go the islanders

To chase the mighty whales. And quietly prays the preacher For a blessing and reward Upon harpoon and musket, Upon the spear and sword, That shall slay the great Leviathan, For the glory of the Lord!

XI.

And steady-steady-steady-
Until their backs appear;
And ready-ready-ready-

With the musket and the spear!
Behold the spouts upheaving,
Their sides the water cleaving-
A shot is fired-and a sudden roar
Proclaims approval on the shore;

twine

Are launch'd unerring o'er the brine,
And the water-spouts, that a minute ago
Were clear as the discongealing snow,
Rise ruddy in air like founts of wine;-
And the wounded whales, in their agony,
Plunge in fury through the sea,
And lash the waters into froth,
Blood-crimson'd by their pain and
wrath.

XII.

In vain ye struggle-luckless whales!
Your numbers were a score-
But ten of you shall not escape
To swim the salt seas more!
For ye have come to a needy land,
And to a perilous shore,
Where they will turn your bones to
wealth-

Make coinage of your spoil,
And give their virgins when they wed
A dowry of your oil ;-
Where men will sit around their hearths,
Reposing from their toil,
And long that every day may see
Such slaughter and such revelry.

XIII.

Again-again--the muskets ring,
And scare the sea-birds on the wing;
And not a shot is fired this day
That fails to reach its mark-and slay.
Strong hands impel the heavy spear,

Or drive the double-edged harpoon;
And the fair bay, whose waters clear
Were stainless underneath the moon,
Shall roll to-night a darker flood,
And see its billows streak'd with blood.

XIV.

'Tis done the unequal strife is o'erThe dying whales are driven ashore; And long ere setting of the sun, Their carcasses are haul'd to land; And, stretch'd unwieldy on the sand, Men count the prizes they have won;

Twelve monsters huge, whose bones shall bring

Enjoyment for the wintry nights, Whose oil shall make the wretched sing, And fill the needy with delights.

With gladness fill'd to overflow,
To hear the joyous bells resound,
And see the bonfires blazing round.

XV.

This night shall mirth be unrestrain❜d, The blood in quicker pulses driven; And many a flowing cup be drain’d,

And many a loving pledge be given; And even the minister himself Shall lay his Bible on the shelf, And join his elders o'er a bowl To drink a welcome to the shoal. And every dweller in the isle Shall hold a festival the while, And mark in memory's tablets clear, This day the fairest of the year.

THE WITCH OF SKERRIEVORE.

I.

'WE were sisters, sisters seven-
The fairest women under heaven;
One was calm, serene, and fair—
One had locks of auburn hair-
One had lips like parted cherries—
One had cheeks like autumn berries-
One had eyes where pity glow'd-
One a smile where love abode;
And I the fairest of them all.
Comely, ruddy, graceful, tall;

II.

Dancing with their nimble feet,
'O my sisters!-sisters sweet,
In a happy roundelay,
Mingling voices all the day
Wreathing flowers to bind their hair,
With their smiles dispelling care,
Scattering pleasures as they went,
To the world's enravishment,
O my sisters! oh their fall;
Love destroy'd them one and all!

III.

'Fairest blossoms of our clime,
They were blighted ere their time:
One was sear'd by slander's breath-
One, too loving, pined to death-
One, deceived, and smitten low,
In her madness lost her woe-