When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow,
And the owlet whoops to the wolf below,
That eats the she-wolf's young.'

'Dear Lord! it hath a fiendish look –
(The Pilot made reply)

I am a-fear'd'—'Push on, push on!'
Said the Hermit cheerily.

The boat came closer to the ship,
But I nor spake nor stirr'd;

The boat came close beneath the ship,

And straight a sound was heard.

Under the water it rumbled on,

Still louder and more dread:

It reach'd the ship, it split the bay;
The ship went down like lead.

Stunn'd by that loud and dreadful sound,
Which sky and ocean smote,

Like one that hath been seven days drown'd
My body lay afloat;

But swift as dreams, myself I found

Within the Pilot's boat.

Upon the whirl, where sank the ship,
The boat spun round and round;
And all was still, save that the hill
Was telling of the sound.

I moved my lips-the Pilot shriek'd
And fell down in a fit;

The ship sud

denly sinketh.

The ancient Mariner is saved in the Pilot's boat.

The ancient

Mariner earnestly entreateth the Hermit to shrieve him;

and the penance of life falls on him.

And ever and anon throughout his future life an agony constraineth him to travel from land to land,

The holy Hermit raised his eyes,

And pray'd where he did sit.

I took the oars: the Pilot's boy,
Who now doth crazy go,

Laugh'd loud and long, and all the while
His eyes went to and fro.

'Ha! ha!' quoth he, ' full plain I see,
The Devil knows how to row.'

And now, all in my own countree,
I stood on the firm land!

The Hermit stepp'd forth from the boat,
And scarcely he could stand.

'O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!'
The Hermit cross'd his brow.

Say quick,' quoth he, 'I bid thee say -
What manner of man art thou?'

Forthwith this frame of mine was wrench'd

With a woful agony,

Which forced me to begin my tale;

And then it left me free.

Since then, at an uncertain hour,

That agony returns:

And till my ghastly tale is told,
This heart within me burns.

I pass like night, from land to land;
I have strange power of speech;

That moment that his face I see,

I know the man that must hear me:

To him my tale I teach.

What loud uproar bursts from that door!
The wedding-guests are there:
But in the garden-bower the bride

And bride-maids singing are:
And hark the little vesper bell,
Which biddeth me to prayer!

O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been
Alone on a wide wide sea:
So lonely 'twas, that God himself
Scarce seemed there to be.

O sweeter than the marriage-feast,
'Tis sweeter far to me,

To walk together to the kirk
With a goodly company!

To walk together to the kirk,

And all together pray,

While each to his great Father bends,
Old men, and babes, and loving friends
And youths and maidens gay!

Farewell, farewell! but this I tell

To thee, thou Wedding-Guest! He prayeth well, who loveth well Both man and bird and beast.

And to teach by his own example, love and

reverence to all things that God made and loveth.

He prayeth best, who loveth best.

All things both great and small;

For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all.

The Mariner, whose eye is bright,
Whose beard with age is hoar,

Is gone: and now the Wedding-Guest
Turn'd from the bridegroom's door.

He went like one that hath been stunn'd,

And is of sense forlorn:

A sadder and a wiser man,

He rose the morrow morn.

THE STORY OF ARGALUS AND PARTHENIA.

From THE COUNTESS OF PEMBROKE'S ARCADIA.

Sir Philip Sidney.

Pyrocles and Musidorus are separated by shipwreck off the coast of Laconia; Musidorus is saved by shepherds, to whom he gives his name as Palladius, according to a previous arrangement with Pyrocles, who was to be known as Daiphantus. Pyrocles is carried off by pirates; Palladius is taken to the house of Kalander, a wealthy Arcadian, who entertains him for some weeks. One day, word comes to Kalander that his son Clitophon has been captured by the Helots. Palladius, observing the sudden alteration in his host, inquires of a steward the cause. "Whereunto the steward easily in this sort condescended:"

"My Lord," said he, "when our good King Basilius took to wife the fair young princess Gynecia, there came with her a young lord, cousin-german to herself, named Argalus, led hither, partly with the love and honor of his noble kinswoman, partly with the humor of youth, which ever thinks that good whose goodness he sees not. And in this court he received so good increase of knowledge, that after some years spent, he so manifested a most virtuous mind in all his actions, that Arcadia gloried such a plant was transported unto them, being a gentleman, indeed, most rarely accomplished, excel

lently learned, but without all vainglory; friendly, without factiousness; valiant, so as for my part I think the earth hath no man that hath done more heroical acts than he; howsoever, now of late the fame flies of the two princes of Thessalia and Macedon, and hath long done of our noble prince Amphialus; who, indeed, in our parts is only accounted likely to match him; but I say for my part, I think no man, for valor of mind and ability of body, to be preferred, if equalled to Argalus; and yet so valiant, as he never durst do anybody injury; in behavior, some will say, ever sad, surely sober, and somewhat given to musing, but never uncourteous; his word ever led by his thought, and followed by his deed; rather liberal than magnificent, though the one wanted not, and the other had ever good choice of the receiver; in sum (for I perceive I shall easily take a great draught of his praises, whom both I and all this country love so well), such a man was, and I hope is, Argalus, as hardly the nicest eye can find a spot in, if the over-vehement constancy of yet spotless affection may not in hard-wrested constructions be counted a spot which in this manner began that work in him, which hath made both him, and itself in him, over all this country famous. My master's son, Clitophon (whose loss gives the cause to this discourse, and yet gives me cause to begin with Argalus, since his loss proceeds from Argalus), being a young gentleman, as of great birth (being our king's sister's son), so truly of good nature, and one that can see good and love it, haunted more the company of this worthy Argalus than of any other; so as, if there were not a friendship (which is so rare as it is to be doubted whether it be a thing indeed or but a word), at least there was such a liking and friendliness, as hath brought forth the effects which you shall hear.

:

About two years since, it so fell out, that he brought him to a great lady's house, sister to my master, who had