The cloth now being laid, the members drew their chairs to the table, and the supper went off amidst laughter and jovial conversation. The bottle went round a few times at the last before the cloth was finally cleared, when each drew round the fire, which was now blazing fiercely, our host having just put on a fresh log, and each lighting his pipe, waited, according to custom, for someone to broach a new story. "Now, Parnassus, my boy," said Oldstone, "we are quite ready for your story. What is it to be?" "Well then, gentlemen, since I must pay my forfeit, I will, according to a wish expressed by Mr. Oldstone, sing you a little ballad of my own composing." "Yes, yes; hear, hear! A song, a song! Make ready for a song." The members re-settled themselves on their chairs, and pronounced themselves "all attention," while the young poet, throwing himself back carelessly in his chair and crossing one leg over the other, began in a clear rich voice, the following ditty. THE CHIEFTAIN'S DESTINY. CANTO THE FIRST. A skiff is seen upon the main, The purple wave of Oman's sea; Her prow doth long to kiss again The perfumed shores of Araby. A gentle Zephyr fills the sail. But, ah, too soft, too mild the gale For one on board, who, mounted high, Scans the far shore with eagle eye. 'Tis Selim's bark that, long away, Hath wandered on the salt sea foam, And brings him after many a day Back to this land, though not his home. What in the distance glads his eye? A sight none other can descry-- The kerchief he his mistress gave Now from her casement high doth wave. The signal yet is but a speck, The cloud has vanished from his brow; Yet chafing still, he walks the deck Impatiently from helm to prow, As if his eagerness could urge His vessel faster through the surge. But as the craft now nigher drew, The signal note his swarthy crew. Now gaily speeds the gallant bark, Soon within grasp of land once more; The sun has set, yet 'tis not dark. Each swarthy sailor leaps ashore, Yet almost ere they can alight Their captain scales a dizzy height, And in the moonlight hand in hand Two lovers at the casement stand. "Oh, Selim! why this long delay?" A soft voice whispers 'neath the moon. "I've wept for thee full many a day, Watching the sea from morn till noon, In hope-- But hist! there're footsteps nigh; The Caliph keeps a watchful eye. The moon is up, thou must be gone-- One kiss. Farewell. We meet at dawn." Zuleika to her bower turned-- Her jasmine bower's perfumed shade; A fever in her bosom burned. That night upon her couch being laid, The nightingale that woos the rose Breaks not so much on her repose As the loud beating of her heart With feelings she will ne'er impart