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I WILL sing no more of sorrow,
What though Time be swiftly flying,
We but urge him on by sighing.
Hark! the birds trill in the sun,
"Оn, where is the knight or the squire so bold To dive amid yon billowy din?
I cast down a cup of the purest gold;
Lo, how the whirlpool hath sucked it in! I grant the prize of that costly cup
To the venturous hand that shall bear it up."
The monarch he spake as he proudly stood
And he plunged the cup in Charybdis' flood,
"Now, who is so gallant of heart," he cried,
They listened, that goodly company,
And were mute both squire and knight; For they silently gaze on the wild, wild sea, And they dare not strive with the whirlpool's
And the king, for the third time, loudly spake, "Will no man dive for his monarch's sake ?"
But silently still they gaze and stand,
Till a gentle page, and bold,
Stepped lightly forth from the shuddering band,
And, lo! as he stands on the outermost verge,
From the depths of muttering whirlpool rushing;
Till the spray-dashing column to heaven updarts, Wave after wave everlastingly sending,
Never exhausted, and never at rest,
Like a new sea sprung from the old sea's breast.
But the terrible storm is at length asleep!
A fathomless chasm yawneth deep
Such portal dream we to hell's dark way!
Then, quick! ere the tempest again awakes,
And a cry of horror from each lip breaks
He is whirl'd in the whirling stream away!
All smooth is the surface; beneath, is heard
From lip to lip passes the trembling word,
"God speed thee, young spirit, and dauntless
Then they pause, and they listen right fearfully
To the gathering howls of the hollow sea.
King! if thou cast in thy crown of gold,
Kingdom and crown for his own shall hold !"
Small were my wish for the diadem.
For how should a living soul reveal
What the howling seas in their womb conceal?
Full many a stately ship hath rush'd
Down to yon bubbling wave,
And mast and keel, all shatter'd and crush'd,
And it hisses and eddies, and seethes and starts,
Till the spray-dashing column to heaven updarts,
Whose sound as the sound of thunder is,
When they rush with a roar from their black abyss.
But, see! what shines through the dark flood there, As a swan's soft plumage white ?
An arm and a glitteriug neck are bare,
They busily move with a swimmer's might:
He is breathing deep, he is breathing long,
"He lives, he is here, and the fierce wave quails! From the depth, where the waters battle and roll, The brave youth has brought back a living soul!"
And he comes, while the gay troop cluster round, He bends at his sovereign's feet,
And he gives him the cup, kneeling low on the ground!
And the king hath beckon'd his daughter sweet, And she crowneth the beaker with wine's bright
While the bold youth speaks to the wondering king:
"Long life to our monarch! and joy to those
"Down, down I shot like a lightning-flash,
"Then God, to whom I bitterly cried,
Display'd, through the driving foamy blast
"For the purple darkness of the deep
Lay under my feet like a precipice,
And though here the ear must in deafness sleep, The eye could look down the sheer abyss,