“ And, by my word! the bonny bird

In danger shall not tarry;
So, though the waves are raging white,

I'll row you o'er the ferry.”
By this the storm grew loud apace,

The water-wraith was shrieking;
And, in the scowl of heaven, each face

Grew dark as they were speaking. But still as wilder blew the wind,

And as the night grew drearer, Adown the glen rode armed men,

Their trampling sounded nearer. “ O haste thee, haste !” the lady cries,

“ Though tempests round us gather, I'll meet the raging of the skies,

But not an angry father.”
The boat has left a stormy land,

A stormy sea before her
When, oh! too strong for human hand,

The tempest gathered o'er her.
And still they row'd, amidst the roar

Of waters fast prevailing :
Lord Ullin reach'd that fatal shore

His wrath was changed to wailing-
For sore dismay'd, through storm and shade,

His child he did discover!
One lovely arm was stretched for aid,

And one was round her lover. “ Come back ! come back !” he cried in grief,

" Across this stormy water ; And I'll forgive your Highland chief

My daughter !-oh! my daughter !" 'Twas vain !- the loud waves lash'd the shore,

Return or aid preventing :
The waters wild went o'er his child

And he was left lamenting.

LAST DAYS OF HERCULANEUM.- Atherstone.

There was a man,
A Roman soldier, for some daring deed
That trespassed on the laws, in dungeon low
Chained down. His was a noble spirit, rough,
But generous, and brave, and kind.
He had a son, 'twas a rosy boy,
A little faithful copy of his sire
In face and gesture. In her pangs she died
That gave him birth ; and ever since the child
Had been his father's solace and his care.

Every sport
The father shared and heightened. But at length
The rigorous law had grasped him, and condemned
To fetters and to darkness.

The captive's lot
He felt in all its bitterness :-the walls
Of his deep dungeon answered many a sigh
And heart-heaved groan. His tale was known, and touched
His jailor with compassion ;-and the boy,
Thenceforth a frequent visitor, beguiled
His father's lingering hours, and brought a balm
With his loved presence that in every wound
Dropt healing. But in this terrifio hour
He was a poisoned arrow in the breast
Where he had been a cure.

With earliest morn,
Of that first day of darkness and amaze
He came.

The iron door was closed for them
Never to open more! The day, the night,
Dragged slowly by ; nor did they know the fate
Impending o'er the city. Well they heard
The pent-up thunders in the earth beneath,
And felt its giddy rocking; and the air
Grew hot at length, and thick ; but in his straw
The boy was sleeping : and the father hoped
The earthquake might pass by; nor would he wake
From his sound rest the unfearing child, nor tell
The dangers of their state. On his low couch

The fettered soldier sunk-and with deep awe
Listened the fearful sounds :-with upturned eye
To the great gods he breathed a prayer ;-then strove
To calm himself, and lose in sleep a while
His useless terrors. But he could not sleep :-
His body burned with feverish heat ;-his chains
Clanked loud although he moved not : deep in earth
Groaned unimaginable thunders :-sounds,
Fearful and ominous, arose and died
Like the sad moanings of November's wind
In the blank midnight. Deepest horror chilled
His blood that burned before ;-cold clammy sweats
Came o'er him :—then anon a fiery thrill
Shot through his veins. Now on his couch he shrunk
And shivered as in fear :-now upright leaped,
As though he heard the battle trumpet sound,
And longed to cope with death.

He slept at last
A troubled dreamy sleep. Well—had he slept
Never to waken more! His hours are few,
But terrible his agony.

Soon the storm
Burst forth : the lightnings glanced :—the air
Shook with the thunders. They awoke ;—they sprung
Amazed upon their feet. The dungeon glowed
A moment as in sunshine and was dark;
Again a flood of white flame fills the cell ;
Dying away upon the dazzled eye
In darkening, quivering tints, as stunning sound
Dies throbbing, ringing in the ear, Silence,
And blackest darkness. With intensest awe
The soldier's frame was filled ; and many a thought
Of strange foreboding hurried through his mind,
As underneath he felt the fevered earth
Jarring and lifting--and the massive walls
Heard harshly grate and strain :-yet knew he not,
While evils undefined and yet to come
Glanced through his thoughts, what deep and curdless wound
Fate had already gʻven. Where, man of woe !
Where, wretched father! is thy boy? Thou callest
His name in vain :-he cannot answer thee.

Loudly the father called upon his child :No voice replied. Trembling and anxiously He searched their couch of straw :-with headlong haste Trod round his stinted limits, and, low bent, Groped darkling on the earth :-no child was there. Again he called :-again at farthest stretch Of his accursed fetters—till the blood Seemed bursting from his ears, and from his eyes Fire flashed-he strained with arm extended far And fingers widely spread, greedy to touch Though but his idol's garment. Useless toil ! Yet still renewed :-still round and round he goes, And strains and snatches and with dreadful cries Calls on his boy. Mad frenzy fires him now; He plants against the wall his feet ;-his chain Grasps ;-tugs with giant strength to force away The deep-driven staple ;-yells and shrieks with rage. And, like a desert lion in the snare

aging to break his toils—to and fro bounds. But see! the ground is opening :

:-a blue light
Mounts, gently waving-noiseless :-thin and cold
It seems, and like a rainbow tint, not flame;
But by its lustre, on the earth outstretched,
Behold the lifeless child !-bis dress singed,
And over his serene face a dark line
Points out the lightning's track.

The father saw
And all his fury fled :-a dead calm fell
That instant on him :-speechless, fixed he stood,
And with a look that never wandered, gazed
Intensely on the corse. Those laughing eyes
Were not yet closed-and round those pouting lips
The wonted smile returned.

Silent and pale
The father stands :-no tear is in his eye :-
The thunders bellow-but he hears them not :
The ground lifts like a sea :-he knows it not :-
The strong walls grind and gape :—the vaulted roof
Takes shapes like bubble tossing in the wind :-
See! he looks up and smiles ;-for death to him

Is happiness. Yet could one last embrace Be given, 'twere still a sweeter thing to die.