They look'd on the dismal and savage profound,

And the peril chilled back every thought of the prize, And thrice spoke the monarch, "The cup to win,

Is there never a wight who will venture in?"

And all as before heard in silence the king—

Till a youth, with an aspect unfearing, but gentle, Mid the tremulous squires, stepp'd out from the ring. Unbuckling his girdle, and doffing his mantle; And the murmuring crowd, as they parted asunder, On the stately boy cast their looks of wonder.

As he strode to the marge of the summit, and gavo
One glance on the gulf of that merciless main;
Lo! the wave that forever devours the wave,
Casts roaringly up the Charybdis again;

And, as with the swell of the far thunder-boom,
Rushes foamingly forth to the heart of the gloom.

And it bubbles and seethes, and it hisses and roars,
As when fire is with water commix'd and contending;

And the spray of its wrath to the welkin up-soars,

And flood upon flood hurries on, never ending; And it never will rest, nor from travail be free, Like a sea that is laboring the birth of a sea.

Yet at length comes a lull o'er the mighty commotion, As the whirlpool sucks into black smoothness the swell Of the white foaming breakers, and cleaves through the

ocean

A path that seems winding in darkness to Hell.

Round and round whirl'd the waves, deep and deeper still driven,

Like a gorge through the mountainous main thunderriven !

The youth gave his trust to his Maker! before

That path through the riven abyss closed againHark! a shriek from the crowd rang aloft from the shore, And behold! he is whirl'd in the grasp of the main! And o'er him the breakers mysteriously roll'd, And the giant-mouth closed on the swimmer so bold.

O'er the surface grim silence lay dark; but the crowd Heard the wail from the deep murmer hollow and fell;

They hearken and shudder, lamenting aloud

"Gallant youth-noble heart-fare thee well, fare thee well!"

More hollow and more wails the deep on the earMore dread and more dread grows suspense in its fear.

If thou should'st in those waters thy diadem fling,
And cry, "Who may find it shall win it and wear,"
God wot, though the prize were the crown of a king—
A crown at such hazard were valued too dear;
For never shall lips of the living reveal

What the deeps that howl yonder in terror conceal.

Oh! many a bark, to that breast grappled fast,

Has gone down to the fearful and fathomless grave; Again, crash'd together the keel and the mast,

To be seen, toss'd aloft, in the glee of the wave; Like the growth of a storm ever louder and clearer, Grows the roar of the gulf rising nearer and nearer.

And it bubbles and seethes, and it hisses and roars,
As when fire is with water commix'd and contending;

And the spray of its wrath to the welkin up-soars,
And flood upon flood hurries on, never ending;
And as with the swell of the far thunder-boom,
Rushes roaringly forth from the heart of the gloom.

And lo! from the heart of that far-floating gloom,
What gleams on the darkness so swan-like and white?
Lo! an arm and a neck, glancing up from the tomb!
They battle-the man's with the element's might.
It is he! it is he! in his left hand behold,

As a sign, as a joy, shines the goblet of gold!

And he breathed deep, and he breathed long,

And he greeted the heavenly delight of the day; They gaze on each other-they shout as they throng, "He lives!-lo, the ocean has rendered its prey! And safe from the whirlpool, and free from the grave, Comes back to the daylight the soul of the brave!"

And he comes with the crowd in the clamor and glee, And the goblet his daring has won from the water,

He lifts to the king as he sinks on his knee:

And the king from her maidens has beckon'd his daughter;

She pours to the boy the bright wine which they bring, And thus spake the Diver: Long life to the king!"

Happy they whom the rose-hues of daylight rejoice,
The air and the sky that to mortals are given;
May the horror below never more find a voice-

Nor man stretch too far the wide mercy of Heaven! Never more-never more may he lift from the sight The veil which is woven with Terror and Night!

"Quick, brightening like lightening, it tore me along, Down, down, till a gush of a torrent, at play

In the rocks of its wilderness, it caught me; and strong
As the wings of an eagle, it whirl'd me away.
Vain, vain was my struggle-the circle had won me,
Round and round in its dance, the wild elements spun me.

"And I called on my God, and my God heard my prayer, In the strength of my need, in the gasp of my breath,