ng abyss, like the pathway to hell;
The stiller and darker the farther it goes,
Suck'd into that smoothness the breakers repose.

The youth gave his trust to his Maker! Before
That path through the riven abyss closed again,
Hark! a shriek from the gazers that circle the shore,--
And, behold! he is whirl'd in the grasp of the main!
And o'er him the breakers mysteriously roll'd,
And the giant-mouth closed on the swimmer so bold.

All was still on the height, save the murmur that went
From the grave of the deep, sounding hollow and fell,
Or save when the tremulous, sighing lament
Thrill'd from lip unto lip, "Gallant youth, fare thee well!"
More hollow and more wails the deep on the ear,--
More dread and more dread grows suspense in its fear.

--If thou shouldst in those waters thy diadem fling,
And cry, "Who may find it shall win it and wear";
God wot, though the prize were the crown of a king,
A crown at such hazard were valued too dear.
For never shall lips of the living reveal
What the deeps that howl yonder in terror conceal.

Oh, many a bark, to that breast grappled fast,
Has gone down to the fearful and fathomless grave;
Again, crash'd together the keel and the mast,
To be seen toss'd aloft in the glee of the wave!--
Like the growth of a storm ever louder and clearer,
Grows the roar of the gulf rising nearer and nearer.

And it bubbles and seethes, and it hisses and roars,
As when fire is with water commix'd and contending;
And the spray of its wrath to the welkin up-soars,
And flood upon flood hurries on, never ending,
And as with the swell of the far thunder-boom,
Rushes roaringly forth from the heart of the gloom.

And, lo! from the heart of that far-floating gloom,
Like the wing of the cygnet--what gleams on the sea?
Lo! an arm and a neck glancing up from the tomb!
Steering stalwart and shoreward: O joy, it is he!
The left hand is lifted in triumph; behold,
It waves as a trophy the goblet of gold!

And he breathed deep, and he breathed long,
And he greeted the heavenly light of the day.
They gaze on each other,--they shout as they throng,
"He lives--lo, the ocean has render'd its prey!
And safe from the whirlpool, and free from the grave,
Comes back to the daylight the soul of the brave!"

And