And so the maiden, gathering courage, said:

      "Far in a blooming isle, in Southern seas,

      I had a home, whose walls, of marble cool,

      Were chequered by soft shadows, hovering,

      Like flocks of birds, about its battlements;

      For, all around, were trees, whose glistening leaves

      Danced ever, in the sunlight or the moonlight,

      To the soft flutes of the Arcadian winds;

      And to the sleepy music, drowsily

      The gorgeous flowers nodded their lovely heads.

      Through the bright days, and in my sleep at night,

      I heard the ripples breaking on the sand,

      Till their continual murmur grew to be

      A thing of course,—like sunshine and fresh air,—

      Or like the love which grew into my life,

      As color into flowers when they unfold.

      The fluttering foliage and the sighing waves

      Seemed whispering "Bertho!" ever in my ear;

      For Bertho was my lover, and my heart

      Could find no other meaning in their sound.

      I was a princess of that blooming isle;

      But Bertho—he was poor! still, not so poor

      As brave, high-souled, and strangely venturesome.

      He trusted to the sea to gain his wealth,

      As well as knowledge and a manly fame.

      Ah! how I wept, when told that we must part!

      How much more bitter tears I shed that day

      On which he left me, wretched, by the shore,

      Watching the gleam of his receding sails!

      "Dim grew the golden air from that dark hour.

      Like some rich flower, torn from the wooing kiss

      Of the warm sun, and hidden in a cell,

      I drooped, and lost the redness of my cheeks.

      All the wild thrills that used to come and go,

      Tumultuous, through my happy heart, and send

      The pulses flying through my frame, died out.

      "And thus in sadness two long summers passed.

      In madness or in wisdom my poor brain

      Wrought out a vision in my troubled sleep,

      Through which I saw my Bertho, and he bade

      My soul be still and fear not,—I should take

      My little boat, in which I used to skirt

      The island shores, and loose it on the deep,

      Placing myself within it:—It would come,

      By force of an unknown and magic current,

      (The thought of which, in speculative minds,

      Had long been cherished,) straightway to the shore

      Of the strange country where, enthralled, he dwelt.

      If I still loved him, this would prove my love!

      "Straight from my couch I rose, and like a ghost

      Stole through the darkness of my father's halls;

      Fled to the sea; and in my fragile bark

      I heaped a few fresh fruits, and bore a vase

      Filled with fresh water,—this was all my store.

      I loosed my shallop from the anchoring rock,

      And, as it drifted out upon the tide,

      I leaned upon the single, slender oar

      Whose aid was all I asked upon the deep.

      Before my yearning vision lay my home,

      Fading away from sight as the full tide

      Went murmuring back from its delightful shores.

      The loveliest hour of all the twenty-four

      Charmed earth and ocean, that eventful time.

      Moonlight and morning, softly blending, lay

      Upon the land; while down the glassy sea,

      Far in the distance, slowly stole a band

      Of sunrise glories, smiling, looking back,

      And glowing with warm splendors. All the East

      Was crimson with their blushes, and the waves

      Which followed in their bright and stately way

      Wore crests of gold, and purple-shaded robes.

      Next came light breezes blowing from the land,

      Odorous with roses, sweet with drowsy songs

      Of nightingales, and cool with myrtle leaves,

      Following down the path the sunrise took.

      And next, the stars went dimly down the west,

      Crowd upon crowd, in slow and shining cars,

      Bright wheeling down their heaven-appointed way.

      "All day the sun shadowed himself in clouds;

      My cheeks scarce browned beneath his cooled rays.

      At night I sank contentedly to sleep,

      Upon the silken cushions of my bark;

      Then mermaids, who, attracted by my voice,

      Had floated round me, underneath the waves,