8. Why comes the flush to his pallid brow,
While his eyes like his diamonds shine?
Why writhes he thus in such torture now?
What was there in the wine?

He strove his lonely seat to gain;

To crawl to his nest he tried;

But finding his efforts were all in vain,
He clasped his gold, and-died.

CUTTER.

VIII.

- AN INCIDENT OF OCEAN LIFE.

1. OUR noble ship lay at anchor in the Bay of Tangier, a fortified town in the extreme northwest of Africa. The day had been extremely mild, with a gentle breeze sweeping to the northward and westward; but toward the close of the afternoon the sea-breeze died away, and one of those sultry, oven-like atmospheric breathings came from the great sun-burnt Sahara. Half an hour before sundown the captain gave the cheering order for the boatswain to call the hands to go in swimming, and in less than five minutes the forms of our tars were seen leaping from the arms of the lower yards.

2. One of the studding sails had been lowered into the water, with its corners suspended from the main yard-arm and the swinging boom, and into this most of the swimmers made their way. Among those who seemed to be enjoying the sport most heartily, were two of the boys, Tim. Wallace and Fred. Fairbanks, the latter of whom was the son of our old gunner, and in a laughing mood they started out from the studding sail on a race. There was a loud ringing shout of joy on their lips as they put off, and they darted. through the water like fishes. The surface of the sea vas smooth as glass, though its bosom rose in long heavy swells that set in from the Atlantic.

3. The vessel was moored with a long sweep from both cables, and the buoy of the starboard anchor was far away on the starboard quarter, where it rose and fell with the lazy swells, like a drunken man. Toward this buoy the two lads made their way, Fred. Fairbanks taking the lead; but

when they were within about twenty or thirty fathoms of the buoy, Tim shot ahead and promised to win the race. The old gunner watched the progress of his little son with a great degree of pride, and when he saw him drop behind, he leaped upon the quarter-deck, and was just upon the point of urging him on by a shout, when a cry reached his ear that made him start as if he had been struck with a cannon-ball.

4. "A shark! a shark!" came forth from the captain of the forecastle, and at the sound of these terrible words the men who were in the water leaped and plunged toward the ship. Right abeam, at the distance of three or four cable lengths, a sharp wake was seen in the water, where the back of the monster was visible. His course was for the boys. For a moment, the gunner stood like one bereft of sense, but on the next, he shouted at the top of his voice, for the boys to turn; but the little fellows heard him notstoutly the two swimmers strove for the goal, all unconscious of the bloody death-spirit that hovered so near them. Their merry laugh still rang over the waters, and at length they both touched the buoy together.

IX. AN INCIDENT OF OCEAN LIFE. CONCLuded.

1. O, WHAT drops of agony started from the brow of the gunner! A boat had put off, but Fairbanks knew that it could not reach the boys in season, and every moment he expected to see the monster sink from sight-then he knew that all hope would be gone. At this moment a cry reached the ship, that went through every heart like a stream of fire-the boys had discovered their enemy!

2. The cry started old Fairbanks to his senses, and quicker than thought he sprang from the quarter-deck. The guns were all loaded and shotted, fore and aft, and none knew their temper better than he. With steady hand, made strong by sudden hope, the old gunner seized a primingwire and picked the cartridge of one of the quarter guns; then he took from his pocket a percussion wafer and set it in its place, and set back the hammer of the patent lock.

With a giant strength the old man swayed the breech of the heavy gun to its bearing, and then seizing the string of the lock, he stood back and watched for the next swell that would bring the shark in range. He had aimed the piece some distance ahead of his mark, but yet a little moment would settle his hopes and fears.

3. Every breath was hushed, and every heart in that old ship beat painfully. The boat was yet some distance from the boys, while the horrid sea-monster was fearfully near. Suddenly the air was awoke by the roar of the heavy gun, and as the old man knew his shot was gone, he sank back upon the combing of the hatch and covered his face with his hands, as if afraid to see the result of his own efforts; for if he had failed, he knew that his boy was lost. For a moment after the report of the gun had died away upon the air, there was a dead silence, but as the dense smoke arose from the surface of the water, there was at first a low murmur breaking from the lips of the menthat murmur grew louder and stronger, till it swelled to a joyous, deafening shout.

4. The old gunner sprang to his feet and gazed off on the water, and the first thing that met his view was the huge carcass of the shark, floating with his white belly up -a mangled, lifeless mass. In a few moments the boat reached the daring swimmers, and, half dead with fright, they were brought on board. The old man clasped his boy in his arms, and then, overcome by the powerful excitement, he leaned upon a gun for support. I have seen men in all the phases of excitement and suspense, but never have I seen three human beings more overcome by thrilling emotions, than on that startling moment when they first knew the effect of our gunner's shot.

X.HASSAN, OR THE CAMEL-DRIVER.

1. IN silent horror o'er the boundless waste
The driver Hassan with his camels past:
One cruise of water on his back he bore,
And his light scrip contained a scanty store:

A fan of painted feathers in his hand,

To guard his shaded face from scorching sand.
The sultry sun had gained the middle sky,
And not a tree and not an herb was nigh:
The beasts, with pain, their dusty way pursue,
Shrill roared the winds, and dreary was the view!
With desperate sorrow wild, th' affrighted man

Thrice sighed, thrice struck his breast, and thus began: "Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day, When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!

2. "Ah! little thought I of the blasting wind,
The thirst, or pinching hunger, that I find!
Bethink thee, Hassan, where shall thirst assuage.
When fails this cruse, his unrelenting rage?
Soon shall this scrip its precious load resign;
Then what but tears and hunger shall be thine?

3. "Ye mute companions of my toil, that bear
In all my griefs a more than equal share!
Here, where no springs in murmurs break away,
Or moss-crowned fountains mitigate the day,
In vain ye hope the green delights to know,
Which plains more blest, or verdant vales bestow:
Here rocks alone, and ceaseless sands are found,
And faint and sickly winds forever howl around.
Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,
When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!

4. "Cursed be the gold and silver which persuade Weak men to follow far fatiguing trade! The lily peace outshines the silver store, And life is dearer than the golden ore: Yet money tempts us o'er the desert brown, To every distant mart and wealthy town. Why heed we not, while, mad, we haste along, The gentle voice of peace, or pleasure's song? Or wherefore think the flowery mountain's side, The fountain's murmur, and the valley's pride,Why think we these less pleasing to behold Than dreary deserts, if they lead to gold? Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day, When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!

5. “O cease, my fears!—all frantic as I go, When thought creates unnumbered scenes of wo. What if the lion in his rage I meet!

Oft in the dust I view his printed feet:

And, fearful! oft, when day's declining light
Yields her pale empire to the mourner night,
By hunger roused, he scours the groaning plain,
Gaunt wolves and sullen tigers in his train:
Before them, death with shrieks directs their way,
Fills the wild yell, and leads them to their prey.
Sad was the hour and luckless was the day,
When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!

6. "At that dread hour, the silent asp shall creep, If aught of rest I find, upon my sleep:

Or some swoln serpent twist his scales around
And wake to anguish with a burning wound
Thrice happy they, the wise contented poor,
From lust of wealth, and dread of death secure !
They tempt no deserts, and no griefs they find:
Peace rules the day, where reason rules the mind.
Sad was the hour and luckless was the day,
When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!

7. "O, hapless youth, for she thy love hath won,
The tender Zara will be most undone!
Big swelled my heart, and owned the powerful maid,
When fast she dropt her tears, as thus she said:-
'Farewell the youth whom sighs could not detain,
Whom Zara's breaking heart implored in vain!
Yet, as thou go'st, may every blast arise
Weak and unfelt as these rejected sighs!
Safe o'er the wild, no perils may'st thou see,
No griefs endure, nor weep, false youth, like me.'
O! let me safely to the fair return,

Say with a kiss, she must not, shall not mourn;
O! let me teach my heart to lose its fears,
Recalled by wisdom's voice, and Zara's tears."

8. He said, and called on Heaven to bless the day, When back to Schiraz' walls he bent his way.

COLLINS