HE rose at dawn, and, flushed with hope, Shot o'er the seething harbour-bar, And reached the ship and caught the rope, And whistled to the morning star.

And while on deck he whistled loud, He heard a fierce mermaiden cry, " Boy, though thou art young and proud, I see the place where thou wilt lie.

" The sands and seas and surges mix In caves about the dreary bay, And on thy ribs the limpet sticks, And in thy heart the scrawl shall play!" " Fool," he answered, " death is sure To those that stay and those that roam; But I will never more endure To sit with empty hands at homa, " My mother clings about my neck, My sisters clamour, ' Stay, for shame V' My father raves of death and wreck, They are all to blame—they are all to blame " God help me! sure I take my part Of danger on the roaring sea; A devil rises in my heart Far worse than any death to me." ALFRED TENNYSON..