Falls as light upon our ear, As the sigh of lover, craving

Pity from his lady dear, Children of wild Thule, we, From the deep caves of the sea, As the lark springs from the lea, Hither come, to share your glee.

MERMAN.

From reining of the water-horse, That bounded till the waves were foaming,

Watching the infant tempest's course, Chasing the sea-snake in his roaming;

From winding charge-notes on the shell,

The billows know my Runic lay, And smooth their crests to silent green.

The billows know my Runic lay,The gulf grows smooth, the stream is still;

But human hearts, more wild than they,

Know but the rule of wayward will.

One hour is mine, in all the year,

To tell my woes,-and one alone; When gleams this magic lamp, 'tis here,

When dies the mystic light, 'tis gone.

fish duel,

Or tolling shroudless seamen's knell, When the winds and waves are cruel;

Children of wild Thule, we Have plough'd such furrows on the sea,

As the steer draws on the lea, And hither we come to share your glee.

MERMAIDS AND MERMEN.

We heard you in our twilight caves,
A hundred fathom deep below,
For notes of joy can pierce the
waves,

That drown each sound of war and
woe.

Those who dwell beneath the sea
Love the sons of Thule well;
Thus, to aid your mirth, bring we
Dance, and song, and sounding
shell.

Children of dark Thule, know,
Those who dwell by haaf and voe,
Where your daring shallops row,
Come to share the festal show.

NORNA'S SONG.

For leagues along the watery way, Through gulf and stream my course has been;

The lamp is lit, the flame is
clear,-

To you I come to tell my tale,
Awake, arise, my tale to hear!

CLAUD HALCRO AND NORNA.

CLAUD HALCRO.

MOTHER darksome, Mother dread,
Dweller of the Fitful-head,
Thou canst see what deeds are done
Under the never-setting sun.
Look through sleet, and look through
frost,

Look to Greenland's caves and coast,

By the ice-berg is a sail

Chasing of the swarthy whale;
Mother doubtful, Mother dread,
Tell us, has the good ship sped?

NORNA.

The thought of the aged is ever on gear,

On his fishing, his furrow, his flock, and his steer;

But thrive may his fishing, flock, furrow, and herd,

While the aged for anguish shall tear

his gray beard.

The ship, well-laden as bark need be, Lies deep in the furrow of the Iceland sea;

NORNA.

Untouch'd by love, the maiden's breast

Is like the snow on Rona's crest;
So pure, so free from earthly dye,
It seems, whilst leaning on the sky,
Part of the heaven to which 'tis nigh;
But passion, like the wild March rain,
May soil the wreath with many a
stain.

We gaze-the lovely vision's gone-
A torrent fills the bed of stone,
That hurrying to destruction's shock,
Leaps headlong from the lofty rock.

SONG OF THE ZETLAND FISHERMAN.

FAREWELL, merry maidens, to song, and to laugh,

For the brave lads of Westra are bound to the Haaf;

And we must have labour, and hun

ger, and pain,

Ere we dance with the maids of Dunrossness again.

For now, in our trim boats of Noroway deal,

We must dance on the waves, with the porpoise and seal; The breeze it shall pipe, so it pipe not too high,

And the gull be our songstress whene'er she flits by.

Sing on, my brave bird, while we follow, like thee,

By bank, shoal, and quicksand, the swarms of the sea;

And when twenty score fishes are straining our line, Sing louder, brave bird, for their spoils shall be thine.

We'll sing while we bait, and we'll

sing while we haul, For the deeps of the Haaf have enough for us all:

There is torsk for the gentle, and skate for the carle,

And there's wealth for bold Magnus, the son of the earl.

Ay, deal them, mother mine;
And you shall deal my lands so wide,
And deal my castles nine.

But deal not vengeance for the deed,
And deal not for the crime;
The body to its place, and the soul
to Heaven's grace,

And the rest in God's own time.

NORNA'S INCANTATIONS. CHAMPION, famed for warlike toil, Art thou silent, Ribolt Troil? Sand, and dust, and pebbly stones, Are leaving bare thy giant bones. Who dared touch the wild bear's skin Ye slumber'd on, while life was in?— A woman now, or babe, may come And cast the covering from thy tomb. Yet be not wrathful, Chief, nor blight,

Mine eyes or ears with sound or sight!

I come not, with unhallow'd tread,
To wake the slumbers of the dead,
Or lay thy giant reliques bare;
But what I seek thou well canst spare.
Be it to my hand allow'd
To shear a merk's weight from thy
shroud;

Yet leave thee sheeted lead enough To shield thy bones from weather rough.

See, I draw my magic knife-
Never, while thou wert in life,

Of wild winds raging at their height,
When to thy place of slumber nigh,
Shall soften to a lullaby

She, the dame of doubt and dread,
Norna of the Fitful-head,
Mighty in her own despite,-
Miserable in her might;
In despair and frenzy great,
In her greatness desolate;
Wisest, wickedest who lives,-
Well can keep the word she gives.

[HER INTERVIEW WITH MINNA.]

Thou, so needful, yet so dread,
With cloudy crest, and wing of red;
Thou, without whose genial breath
The North would sleep the sleep of
death;

Who deign'st to warm the cottage hearth,

Yet hurlst proud palaces to earth,—
Brightest, keenest of the Powers,
Which form and rule this world of
ours,

With my rhyme of Runic, I
Thank thee for thy agency.
Old Reim-kennar, to thy art
Mother Hertha sends her part;
She, whose gracious bounty gives
Needful food for all that lives.
From the deep mine of the North
Came the mystic metal forth,
Doom'd amidst disjointed stones,

Long to cere a champion's bones, Disinhumed my charms to aidMother Earth, my thanks are paid.

Girdle of our islands dear,
Element of Water, hear!
Thou whose power can overwhelm
Broken mounds and ruin'd realm
On the lowly Belgian strand;
All thy fiercest rage can never
Of our soil a furlong sever

From our rock-defended land;
Play then gently thou thy part,
To assist old Norna's art.

Elements, each other greeting,
Gifts and power attend your meeting:

Thou, that over billows dark,
Safely send'st the fisher's bark,—
Giving him a path and motion
Through the wilderness of ocean;
Thou, that when the billows brave ye,
O'er the shelves canst drive the
navy,-

Didst thou chafe as one neglected,
While thy brother was respected?
To appease thee, see, I tear
This full grasp of grizzled hair;
Oft thy breath hath through it sung,
Softening to my magic tongue,-
Now, 'tis thine to bid it fly
Through the wide expanse of sky,
'Mid the countless swarms to sail
Of wild-fowl wheeling on thy gale;
Take thy portion and rejoice,--
Spirit, thou hast heard my voice!

And yet hath the root of her sorrow and ill,

A source that's more deep and more mystical still.——

Thou art within a demon's hold, More wise than Heims, more strong than Trold.

No siren sings so sweet as he,—
No fay springs lighter on the lea;
No elfin power hath half the art
To soothe, to move, to wring the
heart,

Life-blood from the cheek to drain,
Drench the eye and dry the vein.
Maiden, ere we farther go,
Dost thou note me, ay or no?