As he followed the light Of the fleet nymph's flight To the brink of the Dorian deep.

"Oh, save me! Oh, guide me! And bid the deep hide me,

For he grasps me now by the hair!”
The loud Ocean heard,

To its blue depth stirred,
And divided at her prayer;
And under the water
The Earth's white daughter

Fled like a sunny beam;

Behind her descended

Her billows, unblended

With the brackish Dorian stream.

Like a gloomy stain
On the emerald main,

Alpheus rushed behind,—
As an eagle pursuing

A dove to its ruin

Down the streams of the cloudy wind.

Under the bowers

Where the ocean powers Sit on their pearlèd thrones; Through the coral woods Of the weltering floods, Over heaps of unvalued stones;

Through the dim beams Which amid the streams Weave a network of colored light.

And under the caves,
Where the shadowy waves
Are as green as the forest's night-

Outspeeding the shark,
And the sword-fish dark,

Under the ocean foam;

And up through the rifts
Of the mountain clifts

They passed to their Dorian home.

And now from their fountains
In Enna's mountains,

Down one vale where the morning basks
Like friends once parted,

Grown single-hearted,

They ply their watery tasks.

At sunrise they leap

From their cradles steep

In the cave of the shelving hill;

At noontide they flow
Through the woods below,
And the meadows of asphodel;
And at night they sleep
In the rocking deep
Beneath the Ortygian shore;-
Like spirits that lie
In the azure sky,

When they love but live no more.

PEROY BYSSHE SHELLEY

THE FOUNTAIN.

INTO the sunshine,

Full of light,
Leaping and flashing
From morn till night;

Into the moonlight,
Whiter than snow,
Waving so flower-like,
When the winds blow!

Into the starlight,
Rushing in spray,
Happy at midnight—
Happy by day!

Ever in motion,

Blithesome and cheery, Still climbing heavenward, Never aweary;

Glad of all weathers,

Still seeming best,
Upward or downward,
Motion thy rest:

Full of a nature

Nothing can tame, Changed every momentEver the same;

Ceaseless aspiring,

Ceaseless content, Darkness or sunshine,

Thy element;

Glorious fountain!

Let my heart be
Fresh, changeful, constant,
Jpward, like thee!

JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.

And many a tree and bush my wanderings knows,

And e'en the clouds and silent stars of heaven;

For he who with his Maker walks aright,

wine

Was the bright dew yet drained not by the day;

And wild roses, and ivy serpentine
With its dark buds and leaves wandering

astray;

His ear shall catch each sound with new de

light,

Each object wear the dress that then it wore;
And he, as when erect in soul he stood,
Hear from his Father's lips that all is good.

JONES VERY