A TALE. - I suoi pensieri in lui dormir non ponno. » Tasso, canto decimo, Gerusalemme Liber. «O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sca, сс Survey our empire, and behold our home? << These are our realms, no limits to their sway« Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey. e Ours the wild life in tumult still to range From toil to rest, and joy in every change. « Whom slumber soothes not- -pleasure cannot pleaseOh, who can tell, save he whose heart hath tried, And danced in triumph o'er the waters wide, The exulting sense-the pulse's maddening play, That thrills the wanderer of that trackless way? "That for itself can woo the approaching fight, « And turn what some deem danger to delight; That seeks what cravens shun with more than zeal, «And where the feebler faint can only feel « Feel to the rising bosom's inmost core, << Its hope awaken and its spirit soar? « No dread of death-if with us die our foes<< Save that it seems even duller than repose: << Come when it will-we snatch the life of life<< When lost-what recks it—by disease or strife? « Let him who crawls enamoured of decay, Cling to his couch, and sicken years away; << Heave his thick breath, and shake his palsied head; Ours- the fresh turf, and not the feverish bed. While gasp by gasp he falters forth his soul, << Ours with one pang-one bound- escapes control. << His corse may boast its urn and narrow cave, «And they who loathed his life may gild his grave: << Ours are the tears, though few, sincerely shed, « When Ocean shrouds and sepulchres our dead. « For us, even banquets fond regret supply <<< In the red cup that crowns our memory; « And the brief epitaph in danger's day, When those who win at length divide the prey, II. Such were the notes that from the Pirate's isle, No matter where their chief's allotment this; And for his fare the rudest of his crew - Would that, in turn, have passed untasted too; sense His mind seems nourished by that abstinence. << Steer to that shore!»- they said. « Do this! » -'tis done : To such, brief answer and contemptuous eye III. « A sail! a sail!. -» a promised prize to Hope - Receives that prow which proudly spurns the spray. Her white wings flying never from her foes She walks the waters like a thing of life, And seems to dare the elements to strife. To move the monarch of her peopled deck? IV. Hoarse o'er her side the rustling cable rings; the oars keep concert to the strand, Till grates her keel upon the shallow sand. Hail to the welcome shout! - the friendly speech! V. The tidings spread, and gathering grows the crowd: And woman's gentler anxious tone is heard Friends'- husbands'- lovers' names in each dear word: «Oh! are they safe? we ask not of success«But shall we see them? will their accents bless? << From where the battle soars-the billows chafeThey doubtless boldly did. but who are safe? Here let them haste to gladden and surprise, « And kiss the doubt from these delighted eyes! VI. << Where is our chief? for him we bear report - « Our greeting paid, we'll feast on our return, To where his watch-tower beetles o'er the bay, |