That echoes the sound of the surge;
As if they were gifted with speech,
The breakers will sing you a dirge.

The fishermen list to it oft,
And love the sweet charm of its spell,
For sometimes it wispers so soft,
It seems but the voice of the shell.

It tells of a beautiful child
That used to come down there and play,
And shout to the surges so wild
That burst on the brink of the bay.

She was but a child of the poor,
Whose father had perished at sea;
'Twas strange, that sweet psalm of the shore,
Whatever the story might be!

Yes, strange, but so true in its tone
That no one could listen and doubt;
The heart must be calm and alone
To search its deep mystery out.

She came with a smaller than she
That toddled along at her side;
Now ran to and fled from the sea,
Now paddled its feet in the tide.

Afar o'er the waters so wild,
Grazed Effie with wondering eye;
What mystery grew on the child
In all that bright circle of sky?

Her father--how sweet was the thought!
Was linked with this childish delight;
'Twas strange what a vision it brought--
As though he still lingered in sight.

Was it Heaven so near, so remote,
Across the blue line of the wave?
'Twas thither he sailed in his boat,
'Twas there he went down in his grave!

So the days and the hours flew along,
Like swallows that skim o'er the flood;
Like the sound of a beautiful song,
That echoes and dies in the wood!

One day as they strayed on the strand,
And played with the shingle and shell,
A boat that just touched on the land
Was playfully rocked by the swell.

O childhood, what joy in a ride!
What eagerness beams in their eyes!
What bliss as they climb o'er the side
And shout as they tumble and rise!

O sea, with thy pitiful dirge,
Thou need'st to be mournful and moan!
The wrath of thy terrible surge
Omnipotence curbs it alone!

The boat bore away from the shore,
The laughter of childhood so glad!
And the breakers bring back ever more
The dirge with its echo so sad!

A widow sits mute on the beach,
And ever the tides as they flow,
As if they were gifted with speech,
Repeat the sad tale of her woe!

"That's werry good," said the Boardman. "I'm afraid them there childre