I saw that thing accurst Wreak his worst On the first and second crew: Some with baited hook He angled for and took, Some dragged overboard in a net he threw, Some he did to death With hoof or horn or blasting breath. I heard a voice of wailing Where the ships went sailing, A sorrowful voice prevailing Above the sound of the sea, Above the singers' voices, And musical merry noises; All songs had turned to sighing, The light was failing, The day was dying-- Ah me, That such a sorrow should be! There was sorrow on the sea and sorrow on the land When Love ship went down by the bottomless quicksand To its grave in the bitter wave. There was sorrow on the sea and sorrow on the land When Worm ship went to pieces on the rock-bound strand, And the bitter wave was its grave. But land and sea waxed hoary In whiteness of a glory Never told in story Nor seen by mortal eye, When the third ship crossed the bar Where whirls and breakers are, And steered into the splendors of the sky; That third bark and that least Which had never seemed to feast, Yet kept high festival above sun and moon and star. YET A LITTLE WHILE. I dreamed and did not seek: to-day I seek Who can no longer dream; But now am all behindhand, waxen weak, And dazed amid so many things that gleam Yet are not what they seem. I dreamed and did not work: to-day I work Kept wide awake by care And loss, and perils dimly guessed to lurk; I work and reap not, while my life goes bare And void in wintry air. I hope indeed; but hope itself is fear Viewed on the sunny side; I hope, and disregard the world that's here, The prizes drawn, the sweet things that betide; I hope, and I abide. HE AND SHE. "Should one of us remember, And one of us forget, I wish I knew what each will do-- But who can tell as yet?" "Should one of us remember, And one of us forget, I promise you what I will do-- And I'm content to wait for you, And not be sure as yet." MONNA INNOMINATA. A SONNET OF SONNETS. Beatrice, immortalized by "altissimo poeta ... cotanto amante;" Laura, celebrated by a great though an inferior bard,--have alike paid the exceptional penalty of exceptional honor, and have come down to us resplendent with charms, but (at least, to my apprehension) scant of attractiveness.