THE THREE GUESTS.

BY MARY HOWITT.

"OH where are you, ye three young men ! Where, where on land or sea! My soul doth daily yearn for you,

Oh hasten back to me!

"Oh hasten back, my best beloved,
Gentle, and wise, and brave!

Or, be ye numbered with the dead,
Come back, even from the grave!

'Ay, from the grave, if ye are there,
For once, my lost, come back!
For once-so I may look on you,
May know your mortal track!'

With that there blew a loud, loud wind, With that there blew a low;

And the barred door on its hinges turned, Turned silently and slow.

And in there came the three young men,

From lands that lay not near; And all as still their footsteps fell,

As dews that none can hear.

The first was pale, and cold, and thin,
As the living cannot be ;

His robe was of the chill grey mist
That hangeth on the sea.

The second bore upon his brow

An awful sign and grim;

His mother shrieked and crossed herself,--

Dared not look on him.

The third was as the morning, fair,

Breathing forth odour fresh and sweet ;

A starry crown was on his head,

A rainbow at his feet.

"Where have ye been, ye three young men? Outspoke their mother, in fear;

Sit down-sit down on your own hearth-stone,

'Tis long since ye were here!

"Sit down, sit down, ye three young men,

Take rest, and break my bread :
You have travelled far this weary night :-

Woe's me! they're of the dead!"

"I may not break thy bread, mother,"

The eldest 'gan to say,

"But I will sit on thy hearth, mother,

And warm me while I may :

“For my bed it is in the ocean ice,
Beyond the northern shore,

There hath come no sunbeam to the place
For seven long years and more.

"And but God's awful trumpet-call
Can set my body free;
For the icy sea is my sepulchie,

And Winter keeps the key.

"But it is because of evil deeds,

Because of a broken vow,

That my soul is bound in the dreary place
That holds my body now!

"When I left thy pleasant house, mother,

I took me to the sea,

And stately was the noble ship

That there was built for me;

Her masts were of the northern pine,

Her hull of the oaken tree.

"Her sails were of the canvas stout,

To face the fiercest wind,

And I manned her with twenty-four young men, The bravest that I could find.

"And away we sailed, through rough and smooth,

Away to the Indian seas,

And we captured every ship we met,

And killed their companies.

"Our ship was laden with seven ship's store,

From the top-mast to the hold;

And all we used in that lordly ship

Was made of the beaten gold.

"We had seven ship's freight to lade our ship,
And heavily she sailed, and slow:-

At length she sunk to the bottom of the sea,
When not a breath did blow!

"I woke as from a frightful dream,
In a bower, I knew not where,
And by me knelt an Indian maid,
Who cooled the burning air;
With a sweet fan of Indian flowers,
She cooled the burning air.

""T was the kindest maid that ever loved,-

A very child in truth;

The meekest, though a king's daughter,

In the glory of her youth.

"She took me to her father's house,

A rich, barbaric place;

And she won for me, her stranger-mate,
The love of all her race.

They clothed me as they clothe a king,

They set me next the throne,

And twenty snow-white elephants

They gave me for mine own.

"Ah, me! how I requited them,

It has been told in heaven!

And a thousand years must come and go

Ere that sin be forgiven:

"And a thousand more must come and go

Ere from my soul can fall

The burthen of my broken vows,

The heaviest guilt of all!

"I trampled on her true heart's love,
The Indian stream ran red,-

The sacred stream of her native land,
With the pure young blood I shed!

"Once more I built myself a boat,

Of the heart of the hard teak-tree, I took no mariners on board,

And again I went to sea.

"My mast was made of the Indian cane, My sail of the silken twine;

My ropes they were of the tendrils strong I pulled from the Indian vine.

F