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Or haply they were placed beside the brook With a green sunshine. Here were mighty groves To be a snare. I cannot see thy name
Far down the ocean-valleys, and between Upon the border, only characters
Lay what might seem fair ineadows, softly tinged Of mystic look and dim are there, like signs With orange and with crimson. Here arose Of some strange art; nay, daughter, wear them Tall stems, that, rooted in the depths below, not."
Swung idly with the motions of the sea; Then Sella hung the slippers in the porch And here were shrubberies in whose mazy screen Of that broad rustic lodge, and all who passed The creatures of the deep made haunt. My friend Admired their fair contexture, but none knew Named the strange growths, the pretty coralline, Wholeft them by the brook. And now, at length, The dulse with crimson leaves, and, streaming far, May, with her flowers and singing birds, had gone, Sea-thong and sea-lace. Here the tangle spread And on bright streams and into deep wells shone Its broad thick fronds, with pleasant bowers beThe high midsummer sun. One day, at noon,
neath; Sella was missed from the accustomed meal. And oft we trod a waste of pearly sands,
They soughtherin her favorite haunts, they looked Spotted with rosy shells, and thence looked in By the great rock, and far along the stream, At caverns of the sea whose rock-roofed balls And shouted in the sounding woods her name. Lay in blue twilight. As we moved along, Night came, and forth the sorrowing household | The dwellers of the deep, in mighty herds,
Passed by us, reverently they passed us by, With torches over the wide pasture-grounds Long trains of dolphins rolling through the brine, To pool and thicket, marsh and briery dell, Huge whales, that drew the waters after them, And solitary valley far away.
A torrent-stream, and hideous hammer-sharks, The morning came, and Sella was not found. Chasing their prey ; I shuddered as they came; The sun climbed high, they sought her still ; Gently they turned aside and gave us room.”
Hereat broke in the mother, “Sella, dear, The hot and silent noon, heard Sella's name This is a dream, -- the idlest, vainest dream." Urtered with a despairing cry to wastes
“Nay, mother, nay; behold this sea-green scarf, O'er which the eagle hovered. As the sun Woven of such threads as never human hand Stooped toward the amber west to bring the close Twined from the distaff. She who led my way Of that sad second day, and, with red eyes, Through the great waters bade me wear it home, The mother sat within her home alone,
A token that my tale is true. * And keep,' Sella was at her side. A shriek of joy
She said, “the slippers thou hast found, for thou, Broke the sad silence; glad, warm tears were shed, When shod with them, shalt be like one of us, And words of gladness uttered. “0, forgive,” With power to walk at will the ocean-floor, The maiden said, “that I could e'er forget Among its monstrous creatures, unafraid, Thy wishes for a moment. I just tried And feel no longing for the air of heaven The slippers on, amazed to see them shaped To fill thy lungs, and send the warm, red blood So fairly to my feet, when, all at once,
Along thy veins. But thou shalt pass the hours I felt my steps upborne and hurried on In dances with the sea-nymphs, or go forth, Almost as if with wings. A strange delight, To look into the mysteries of the abyss Blent with a thrill of fear, o'ermastered me, Where never plummet reached. And thou shalt And, ere I knew, my plashing steps were set
sleep Within the rivulet's pebbly beil, and I
Thy weariness away on downy banks Was rushing down the current.
By my side Of sea-moss, where the pulses of the tide Tripped one as beautiful as ever looked Shall gently lift thy hair, or thou shalt float From white clouds in a dream ; and, as we ran, On the soft currents that go forth and wind She talked with musical voice and sweetly laughed. From isle to isle, and wander through the sea.' Gayly we leaped the cray and swam the pool, “So spake my fellow-voyager, her words And swept with dimpling eddies round the rock, Sounding like wavelets on a summer shore, And glided between shady meadow-banks. And then we stopped beside a hanging rock The streamlet, broadening as we went, became With a smooth beach of white sands at its foot, A swelling river, and we shot along
Where three fair creatures like herself were set By stately towns, and under leaning masts At their sea-banquet, crisp and juicy stalks, Of gallant barks, nor lingered by the shore Culled froin the ocean's meadows, and the sweet Or blooming gardens ; onward, onward still, Midribof pleasant leaves, and golden fruits The same strong impulse bore me till, at last, Droppeal from the trees that edge the southernines, We entered the great deep, and passed below And gathered on the waves. Kindly they pravedh His billows, into boundless spaces, lit | That I would share their meal, and I partook
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.
With eager appetite, for long had been
Beside this cottage door. There tenderly My journey, and I left the spot refreshed.
" But beautiful the fountains of the sea It was only to hear the yorlin sing,
Lang the laird of Duneira blame, Began to yearn for my dear mountain-home.
And lang, lang greet or Kilmeny come hame. I prayed my gentle guide to lead me back To the upper air. 'A glorious realm,' I said, When many a day had come anů fleu, "Is this thou openest to me, but I stray When grief grew calm, and hope was dead, Bewildered in its vastness, these strange sights
When mass for Kilmeny's soul had been sung, And this strange light oppress me. I must see When the bedesman had prayed, and the deadThe faces that I love, or I shall die.' “She took my hand, and, darting through the Late, late in a gloamin, when all was still, waves,
When the fringe was red on the westlin hill, Brought me to wherethestream, by which wecame, The wood was sear, the moon i' the wane, Rushed into the main ocean. Then began
The reek o' the cot hung over the plain, A slower journey upward. Wearily
Like a little wee cloud in the world its lane; We breasted the strong current, climbing through When the ingle lowed with an eiry leme, The rapiils tossing high their foam. The night Late, late in the gloamin Kilmeny came lame ! ('ame down, and, in the clear depth of a pool,
“Kilmeny, Kilmeny, where have you been ? Edged with o'erhanging rock, we took our rest Till morning ; and I slept, and dreamed of home Bylinn, by ford, and green-wood tree;
Lang hae we sought both holt and den, And thee. Apleasant sight the morning showed ; Yet you are halesome and fair to see. The green fields of this upper world, the herils
Where got you that joup o' the lily sheen ? That grazed the bank, the light on the red clouds, That bonny snood of the birk sae green? The trees, with all their host of trembling leaves, And these roses, the fairest that ever was seen? Lifting and lowering to the restless wind
Kilmeny, Kilmeny, where have you been ?” Their branches. As I woke I saw them all From the clear stream ; yet strangely was my heart Kilmeny looked up with a lovely grace, Parted between the watery world and this, But nae smile was seen on Kilmeny's face ; And as we journeyed upward, oft I thought As still was her look, and as still was her ee, Of marvels I had seen, and stopped and turned, As the stillness that lay on the emerant lea, And.lingered, till I thought of thee again ; Or the mist that sleeps on a waveless sea. And then again I turneil and clambered up For Kilmeny had been she knew not where, The rivulet's murmuring path, until we came And Kilmeny had seen what she could not declare.
Kilmeny had been where the cock never crew, 1 They lifted Kilmeny, they led her away,
And the Powers of everlasting blow.
Then deep in the stream her body they laid, Withouten sun or moon or night;
That her youth and beauty never might fale; Where the river swa'd a living stream,
And they smiled on heaven, when they saw her lie And the light a pure celestial beam:
In the stream of life that wandered by. The land of vision it would seem,
And she heard a song,
she heard it sung, A still, an everlasting dream.
She kend not where; but sae sweetly it rung, In yon green-wood there is a waik,
It fell on her ear like a dream of the morn, And in that waik there is a wene,
“0, blest be the day Kilmeny was born ! And in that wene there is a maike,
Now shall the land of the spirits see,
Now shall it ken, what a woman may be !”.
They bore her far to a mountain green,
To see what mortal never had seen ;
And bade her heed what she saw and heard,
And note the changes the spirits wrought; Till waked by the hymns of a far countrye. For now she lived in the land of thought. –
She looked, and she saw nor sun nor skies, She wakened on a couch of the silk sae slim,
But a crystal dome of a thousand dies; All striped wi' the bars of the rainbow's rim ;
She looked, and she saw nae land aright,
But an endless whirl of glory and light;
And radiant beings went and came,
Far swifter than wind or the linked flame;
She hid her een frae the dazzling view; “What spirit has brought this mortal here?"
She looked again, and the scene was new. “Lang have I journeyed the world wide,” She saw a sun on a summer sky, A meek and reverend fere replied ;
And clouds of amber sailing by ; “ Baith night and day I have watched the fair A lovely land beneath her lay, Eident a thousand years and mair.
And that land had glens and mountains gray; Yes, I have watched o'er ilk degree,
And that land had valleys and hoary piles, Wherever blooms femenitye ;
And marled seas, and a thousand isles ; But sinless virgin, free of stain,
Its fields were speckled, its forests green, In mind and body, fand I nane.
And its lakes were all of the dazzling sheen, Never, since the banquet of time,
Like magic mirrors, where slumbering lay Found I a virgin in her priine,
The sun and the sky and the cloudlet gray, Till late this bonny maiden I saw,
Which heaved and trembled, and gently swung; As spotless as the morning snaw.
On every shore they seemed to be hung; Full twenty years she has lived as free
For there they were seen on their downward plain As the spirits that sojourn in this countrye.
A thousand times and a thousand again ;
Little peaceful heavens in the bosom of earth.
Kilmeny sighed and seemed to grieve, They clasped her waist and her hands sae fair ; For she found her heart to that land did cleare; They kissed her cheek, and they kemed her hair ; She saw the corn wave on the vale ; And round came many a blooming fere, She saw the deer run down the dale; Saying, “ Bonny Kilmeny, ye’re welcome here; She saw the plaid and the broad claymore, Women are freed of the littand scorn ;
And the brows that the badge of freedom hore; O, blest be the day Kilmeny was born ! And she thought she had seen the land before. Now shall the land of the spirits see, Now shall it ken, what a woman may be !" Then Kilmeny begged again to set
The friends she had left in her owa country,
To tell of the place where she had been, There laid her down on the leaves sae green, And the glories that lay in the land unseen ; And Kilmeny on earth was never mair seen. To warn the living maidens fair,
But O the words that fell from her mouth The loved of heaven, the spirits' care,
Were words of wonder, and words of truth ! That all whose minds unmeled remain
But all the land were in fear and dreal, Shall bloom in beauty when time is gane. For they kend na whether she was living or dead.
It wasna her hame, and she couldna remain ; With distant music, soft and deep,
She left this world of sorrow and pain, They lulled Kilmeny sound asleep;
And returned to the land of thought again. And when she awakened, she lay her lane,
Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen, But still and steadfast was her ee !
We dare n't go a hunting Such beauty bard may never declare,
For fear of little men; For there was no pride nor passion there;
Wee folk, good folk, And the soft desire of maidens een
Trooping all together ; In that mild face could never be seen.
Green jacket, red car,
And white owl's feather !
Down along the rocky shore
Some make their home, That floats along the twilight sea.
They live on crispy pancakes But she loved to raike the lanely glen,
Of yellow tide-foam ; And keeped afar frae the haunts of men ;
Some in the reeds Her holy hymns unheard to sing,
Of the black mountain-lake, To suck the flowers and drink the spring.
With frogs for their watch-dogs,
All night awake.
High on the hill-top
The old king sits ; The dun deer wooed with manner bland,
He is now so old and gray And cowereul aneath her lily hand.
He 's nigh lost his wits. And when at even the woodlanıls rung,
With a bridge of white mist When hymns of other worlds she sung
Columbkill he crosses, In ecstasy of sweet devotion,
On his stately journeys O, then the glen was all in motion !
From Slieveleague to Rosses; The wild beasts of the forest came,
Or going up with music Broke from their bughts and faulds the tame,
On cold starry nights, And goved around, charmed and amazed ;
To sup with the queen Even the dull cattle crooned and yazed,
Of the gay Northern Lights. And murmured, and looked with anxious pain
They stole little Bridget For something the mystery to explain.
For seven years long ; The buzzard came with the throstle-cock,
When she came down again The corby left her houf in the rock ;
Her friends were all gone. The blackbird alang wi' the eagle flew;
They took her lightly back, The hind came tripping o'er the dew ;
Between the night and morrow; The wolf and the kid their raike began ;
They thought that she was fast asleep: And the tod, and the lamb, and the leveret ran ;
But she was dead with sorrow. The hawk and the hern attour them hung,
They have kept her ever since And the merland the mavis forhooyed their young;
Deep within the lakes, And all in a peaceful ring were hurled :
On a bed of tlag-leaves, It was like an eve in a sinless world !
Watching till she wakes. When a month and day had come and gane,
By the craggy hillside, Kilmeny sought the green-wood wene;
Through the mosses bare,
SONG OF WOOD-NYMPHS.
They have planted thorn-trees
For pleasure here and there. Is any man so daring
To dig one up in spite, He shall find the thornies set
In his bed at night.
Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen, We dare n't go a hunting
For fear of little men ; Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together ; Green jacket, red cap,
And white owl's feather!
COME here, come here, and dwell
THE FAIRY CHILD.
The summer sun was sinking
With a mild light, calm and mellow; It shone on my little boy's bonnie cheeks,
And his loose locks of yellow.
The robin was singing sweetly,
And his song was sad and tender; And my little boy's eyes, while he heard the song,
Smiled with a sweet, soft splendor.
THE GREEN GNOME.
My little boy lay on my bosom
While his soul the song was quaffing ; The joy of his soul had tinged his cheek,
And his heart and his eye were laughing.
I sate alone in my cottage,
The midnight needle plying ; I feared for my child, for the rush's light
In the socket now was dying!
There came a hand to my lonely latch,
Like the wind at midnight moaning;
For I heard my little boy groaning.
But that night my child departed,
And I am broken-hearted ! 0, it cannot be my own sweet boy,
For his eyes are dim and hollow;
And his mother soon will follow.
And the mass be chanted meetly,
My eyes were like two harebells bathed in little
drops of dew; My palfrey, never stopping, made a music sweetly
blent With the leaves of autumn dropping all aroundI iue
as I went ; And I heard the bells, grown fainter, far be Liind
me peal and play, Fainter, fainter, fainter, till they seemed to die
away ; And beside a silver runnel, on a little hea!