Rudbari was an old sea-faring man,

And loved the rough paths of the ocean.

And Hassan was his child,-a boy as bright,

As the keen moon, gleaming in the vault of night. Rose-red his cheek, Narcissus-like his eye,

And his form might well with the slender cypress

vie.

Godly Rudbari was, and just and true,

And Hassan pure, as a drop of early dew.—
Now because Rudbari loved this only child,
He was feign to take him o'er the waters wild.

The ship is on the strand-friends, brothers, parents,

there

Take the last leave with mingled tears and prayer. The sailor calls, the fair breeze chides delay,

The sails are spread, and all are under way.

But when the ship, like a strong-shot arrow, flew,
And the well known shore was fading from the view,
Hassan spake, as he gazed upon the land,
Such mystic words, as none could understand:
'On this troubled wave in vain we seek for rest.

Who builds his house on the sea, or his palace on its

breast?

Let me but reach yon fixed and steadfast shore,

And the bounding wave shall never tempt me

more.'

Then Rudbari spake: 'And does my brave boy fear The Ocean's face to see, and his thundering voice to hear?

He will love, when home returned at last,

To tell in his native cot of dangers past.'

Then Hassan said: 'Think not thy brave boy fears When he sees the Ocean's face, or his voice of thunder hears.

But on these waters I may not abide ;

Hold me not back; I will not be denied.'

Rudbari now wept o'er his wildered child:

'What mean these looks, and words so strangely wild?

Dearer, my boy, to me than all the gain

That I've earned from the bounteous bosom of the

main !

Nor heaven, nor earth could yield one joy to me,
Could I not, Hassan, share that joy with thee.'
But Hassan soon, in his wandering words, betrayed
The cause of the mystic air that round him played:
'Soon as I saw these deep, wide waters roll,
A light from the INFINITE broke in upon my soul !'
'Thy words, my child, but ill become thine age,
And would better suit the mouth of some star-gaz-

ing sage.'

'Thy words, my father, cannot turn away

Mine eye, now fixed on that supernal day.'

'Dost thou not, Hassan, lay these dreams aside, I'll plunge thee headlong in this whelming tide.' 'Do this, Rudbari, only not in ire,

"T is all I ask, and all I can desire.
For on the bosom of this rolling flood,
Slumbers an awful mystery of Good;

And he may solve it, who will self expunge,
And in the depths of boundless being plunge.'

He spake and plunged, and as quickly sunk beneath
As the flying snow-flake melts on a summer heath.
A moment Rudbari stood, as fixedly bound
As the pearl is, by the shell that clasps it round.
Then he followed his Hassan with a frantic leap,
And they slumber both on the bottom of the deep!

THE LAST REQUEST.

BY B. B. THATCHER.

BURY me by the Ocean's side

O give me a grave on the verge of the deep,
Where the noble tide,

When the sea-gales blow, my marble may sweep-
And the glistening surf

Shall burst on my turf,

And bathe my cold bosom, in death as I sleep!

Bury me by the sea

That the vesper at eve-fall may sing o'er my grave, Like the hymn of the bee,

Or the hum of the shell in the silent wave!

Or an anthem-roar

Shall be beat on the shore

By the storm and the surge-like march of the brave!

Bury me by the deep

Where a living footstep never may tread

And come not to weep

O wake not with sorrow the dream of the dead!
But leave me the dirge

Of the breaking surge,

And the silent tears of the sea on my head!

And grave no Parian praise-
Purple no turf for the heartless tomb-
And burn no holy blaze,

To flatter the awe of its solemn gloom!
For the holier light

Of the star-eyed night,

And the violet morning my rest will illume:

And honors, more dear

Than of sorrow and love, shall be strewn on my clay By the young green year,

With its fragrant dews and its crimson array —

O leave me to sleep

On the verge of the deep,

Till the sky and the seas shall have passed away!