Say, can thy keen and cruel chains

Corrode, where bliss seraphic reigns,
Where all is peace, and all is joy.

Then, wherefore sighs my fearful heart, And trembles thus my tottering frame? Alas! I feel thy deadly dart,

More potent far than Fancy's flame: I bend, grim tyrant! at thy throne; But spare, ah! spare that sullen frown, Relax the horrors of thy brow!

O! lead me, with a softer hand,
And lo! I come at thy command,
And, unrepining, follow through.

THE MERMAID.

"When, at last, they retired to rest, Ajut went down to the beach, where finding

a fishing-boat, she entered it without hesitation, and, telling those, who wondered at her rashness, that she was going in search of Anningait, rowed away, with great swiftness, and was seen no more.

The fate of those lovers gave occasion to various fictions and conjectures. Some are of opinion, that they were changed into stars; others imagine, Anningait was seized, in his passage, by the Genius of the Rocks, and that Ajut was transformed into a Mermaid, and still continues to seek her lover, in the deserts of the sea.". -RAMBLER, No, 187,

BLOW

on, ye death-fraught whirlwinds! blow,

Around the rocks, and rifted caves;

Ye demons of the gulf below!

I hear you, in the troubled waves.

High on this cliff, which darkness shrouds
In night's impenetrable clouds,

My solitary watch I keep,

And listen, while the turbid deep

Groans to the raging tempests, as they roll

Their desolating force, to thunder at the pole.

Eternal world of waters, hail!

Within thy caves my Lover lies ;

And day and night alike shall fail,

Ere slumber lock my streaming eyes.

Along this wild untrodden coast,

Heap'd by the gelid hand of frost ;
Thro' this unbounded waste of seas,

Where never sigh'd the vernal breeze;

Mine was the choice, in this terrific form,

To brave the icy surge, to shiver in the storm.

Yes! I am chang'd. My heart, my soul,

Retain no more their former glow.

Hence, ere the black'ning tempests roll,
I watch the bark, in murmurs low,

(While darker low'rs the thick'ning gloom)

To lure the sailor to his doom;

Soft from some pile of frozen snow

I

the syren-song of woe;

pour the

Like the sad mariner's expiring cry,

As, faint and worn with toil, he lays him down to die.

Then, while the dark and angry deep

Hangs his huge billows high in air;
And the wild wind with awful sweep,

Howls in each fitful swell-beware!
Firm on the rent and crashing mast,
I lend new fury to the blast;

I mark each hardy cheek grow pale,
And the proud sons of courage fail;

Till the torn vessel drinks the surging waves,

Yawns the disparted main, and opes its shelving graves.

When Vengeance bears along the wave

The spell, which heav'n and earth appals ;

Alone, by night, in darksome cave,

On me the gifted wizard calls.

Above the ocean's boiling flood

Thro' vapour glares the moon in blood:

Low sounds along the waters die,

And shrieks of anguish fill the sky;

Convulsive powers the solid rocks divide,

While, o'er the heaving surge, the embodied spirits glide.

Thrice welcome to my weary sight,

Avenging ministers of wrath!

Ye heard, amid the realms of night,

The spell that wakes the sleep of death.