Green rolls beneath the headlands,
Green rolls the Baltic Sea;

And there, below the Neckan's feet,
His wife and children be.

He sings not of the ocean,

Its shells and roses pale;

Of earth, of earth the Neckan sings,
He hath no other tale.

He sits upon the headlands,
And sings a mournful stave
Of all he saw and felt on earth
Far from the kind sea-wave.

Sings how, a knight, he wander'd
By castle, field, and town-
But earthly knights have harder hearts
Than the sea-children own.

Sings of his earthly bridal

Priest, knights, and ladies gay. "And who art thou," the priest began, "Sir Knight, who wedd'st to-day ?”—

"I am no knight," he answered;

"From the sea-waves I come."

The knights drew sword, the ladies scream'd, The surpliced priest stood dumb.

He sings how from the chapel

He vanish'd with his bride,
And bore her down to the sea-halls,
Beneath the salt sea-tide.

He sings how she sits weeping

'Mid shells that round her lie.

66

-False Neckan shares my bed," she weeps ;

"No Christian mate have I."

He sings how through the billows
He rose to earth again,

And sought a priest to sign the cross,
That Neckan Heaven might gain.

He sings how, on an evening,

Beneath the birch-trees cool,
He sate and play'd his harp of gold,
Beside the river-pool.

Beside the pool sate Neckan—
Tears fill'd his mild blue eye.
On his white mule, across the bridge,
A cassock'd priest rode by.

"Why sitt'st thou there, O Neckan,
And play'st thy harp of gold?
Sooner shall this my staff bear leaves,
Than thou shalt Heaven behold."-

But, lo, the staff, it budded!

It green'd, it branch'd, it waved.
"-O ruth of God," the priest cried out,
"This lost sea-creature saved!"

The cassock'd priest rode onwards,
And vanished with his mule;
But Neckan in the twilight grey
Wept by the river-pool.

He wept: "The earth hath kindness,
The sea, the starry poles;

Earth, sea, and sky, and God above-
But, ah, not human souls!"

In summer, on the headlands,
The Baltic Sea along,

Sits Neckan with his harp of gold,
And sings this plaintive song.

L

THE FORSAKEN MERMAN

COME, dear children, let us away;
Down and away below!

Now my brothers call from the bay,
Now the great winds shoreward blow,
Now the salt tides seaward flow;
Now the wild white horses play,
Champ and chafe and toss in the spray.
Children dear, let us away!

This way, this way!

Call her once before you go

Call once yet!

In a voice that she will know :

"Margaret! Margaret!"

Children's voices should be dear

(Call once more) to a mother's ear;
Children's voices, wild with pain—

Surely she will come again!
Call her once and come away;

This way, this way!

“Mother dear, we cannot stay!

The wild white horses foam and fret."

Margaret! Margaret !

Come, dear children, come away down; Call no more!

One last look at the white-wall'd town,

And the little grey church on the windy shore;
Then come down!

She will not come though you call all day;

Come away, come away!

Children dear, was it yesterday

We heard the sweet bells over the bay?

In the caverns where we lay,

Through the surf and through the swell,
The far-off sound of a silver bell?
Sand-strewn caverns, cool and deep,
Where the winds are all asleep ;
Where the spent lights quiver and gleam,
Where the salt weed sways in the stream,
Where the sea-beasts, ranged all round,
Feed in the ooze of their pasture-ground;
Where the sea-snakes coil and twine,
Dry their mail and bask in the brine;
Where great whales come sailing by,
Sail and sail, with unshut eye,
Round the world for ever and aye?
When did music come this way?

Children dear, was it yesterday? jigs for losi past

Children dear, was it yesterday

(Call yet once) that she went away?

Once she sate with you and me,

On a red gold throne in the heart of the sea,

And the youngest sate on her knee.

She comb'd its bright hair, and she tended it well,

When down swung the sound of a far-off bell.

She sigh❜d, she look'd up through the clear green sea;
She said: "I must go, for my kinsfolk pray

In the little grey church on the shore to-day.

"Twill be Easter-time in the world-ah me!

And I lose my poor soul, Merman! here with thee."
I said: "Go up, dear heart, through the waves ;
Say thy prayer, and come back to the kind sea-caves!"
She smiled, she went up through the surf in the bay.
Children dear, was it yesterday?

Children dear, were we long alone?

"The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan ; Long prayers," I said, "in the world they say;

Come!" I said; and we rose through the surf in the bay. We went up the beach, by the sandy down

Where the sea-stocks bloom, to the white-wall'd town; Through the narrow paved streets, where all was still, To the little grey church on the windy hill.

From the church came a murmur of folk at their prayers,
But we stood without in the cold blowing airs.

We climb'd on the graves, on the stones worn with rains,
And we gazed up the aisle through the small leaded panes.
She sate by the pillar; we saw her clear:
"Margaret, hist! come quick, we are here!
Dear heart," I said, "we are long alone;
The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan."
But, ah, she gave me never a look, Images
For her eyes were seal'd to the holy book!
Loud prays the priest; shut stands the door.
Come away, children, call no more!
Come away, come down, call no more!

Down, down, down!

Down to the depths of the sea!

She sits at her wheel in the humming town,

*