"The lions ramping on that shield between the hearts aflame Keep watch o'er Denmark's honor, and guard her ancient name. "For know that I am Volmer; I dwell in yonder towers, Who ploughs them ploughs up Denmark, this goodly home of ours'. "I tempt no more, fair Elsie! your heart I know is true; Would God that all our maidens were good and pure as you! Well have you pleased your monarch, and he shall well repay; God's peace! Farewell! To-morrow will bring another day!" He lifted up his bridle hand, he spurred his good steed then, And like a whirl-blast swept away with all his gallant men. The steel hoofs beat the rocky path; again on winds of morn The wood resounds with cry of hounds and blare of hunter's horn. "Thou true and ever faithful!" the listening Henrik cried; And, leaping o'er the green hedge, he stood by Elsie's side. None saw the fond embracing, save, shining from afar, The Golden Goose that watched them from the tower of Valdemar. O darling girls of Denmark! of all the flowers that throng Her vales of spring the fairest, I sing for you my song. No praise as yours so bravely rewards the singer's skill; Thank God! of maids like Elsie the land has plenty still! 1872. THE THREE BELLS. BENEATH the low-hung night cloud That raked her splintering mast The good ship settled slowly, The cruel leak gained fast. Over the awful ocean Her signal guns pealed out. Dear God! was that Thy answer From the horror round about? A voice came down the wild wind, "Ho! ship ahoy!" its cry "Our stout Three Bells of Glasgow Shall lay till daylight by!" Hour after hour crept slowly, Yet on the heaving swells Tossed up and down the ship-lights, The lights of the Three Bells! And ship to ship made signals, Man answered back to man, While oft, to cheer and hearten, The Three Bells nearer ran; And the captain from her taffrail Sent down his hopeful cry "Take heart! Hold on!" he shouted; "The Three Bells shall lay by!" All night across the waters The tossing lights shone clear; All night from reeling taffrail The Three Bells sent her cheer. And when the dreary watches Of storm and darkness passed, Just as the wreck lurched under, All souls were saved at last. Sail on, Three Bells, forever, In grateful memory sail! Ring on, Three Bells of rescue, Above the wave and gale! Type of the Love eternal, Repeat the Master's cry, As tossing through our darkness The lights of God draw nigh! 1872. JOHN UNDERHILL. A SCORE of years had come and gone Since the Pilgrims landed on Plymouth stone, When Captain Underhill, bearing scars From Indian ambush and Flemish wars, Left three-hilled Boston and wandered down, East by north, to Cocheco town. With Vane the younger, in counsel sweet, He had sat at Anna Hutchinson's feet, And, when the bolt of banishment fell On the head of his saintly oracle, He had shared her ill as her good report, And braved the wrath of the General Court.