hy;
And men talk on the streets, and by their hearths,
Of him who led to dismal, distant shores
The Crusade of the Nineteenth Century.
In that new world, where generous hearts are found
To flourish on the air of liberty,
A noble merchant fitted out a ship;
And others joined him in his kindly plan,
So deep the interest taken in thy fate.
And oh, for thee, thou princely-fortuned man,
A pale face from a northern window looks,
Forever looks, with constancy sublime.
At night, when spectral tints are in the North--
By day, when winds blow down from that bleak source--
That face peers from the window anxiously,
As if the elements might come from thee
Bearing some message to her pining heart."

As breaks the sunlight from a snow-filled cloud,
Smiles struggled through the list'ner's wintry looks.

"As land-bird with a green twig in its beak
Is welcome to the homesick ship which long
Hath tossed in foreign waters, so art thou
Welcome to me, with this consoling tale.
I am content. Weird OENE, keep me here!
And I will while away a century
In dreaming of a love which hath not failed;
Now knowing that the first to welcome me
In Heaven's ineffable bowers, will be my wife."

"Since thou, Sir JOHN, protected me from harm,
What I have said may be some small return.
I do dislike to leave thee here, so lonely;
But since I for my BERTHO went in search,
Nought stays my footsteps long. Where'er I go,
Whether I be successful in my search,
Or perish by the way, I trust again
We shall in spirit, if not in body, meet.
I have seen this witching Pole-Queen; I have passed
This circling cold and stood in the warm heart
Of her domains--have pressed her magic isle
With my poor human feet, and with my voice
Have plead the cause of two young, eager souls.
She was not kind, and yet not very cruel,
She may relent, even of her hate towards thee.
If I again have access to her ear,
I'll not forget to plead thy cause, dear sir,
As if it were mine own. Farewell!"

"Farewell,
And heaven bless thine innocence, sweet friend."

With parting gesture full of tender grace
And soft regret, she passed upon her way.
A weary time it grew till on the summit
Of Thug she stood, gazing bewildered round.
No more she he