pany with others, was sailing on the lake. When they left the castle, the sky was bright and cloudless, and spread like a sea of sapphire above them, calm and motionless. The warm haze of noon hung around it like a shower of gold; and through the bright air darted the sun-beams, like arrows of light from the golden quiver of day. But anon there rose a distant mutter of thunder; the calmness of the air was shaken, as by a giant's tread; the black-clouds sprang from the mountain heights, like spirits chained in their caverns, whose hour of freedom was given for destruction and retribution to man; in silence they overspread the heaven; quenched the light of the sun with their dull and gravelike mass, and launched upon the air a thick and impenetrable darkness. The breeze which, with the softness of summer, had barely strength to ripple the wave, swept by them with the swiftness of a tempest, lashing the water into crested foam, and bearing on its wing the sultry breath of the pestilence. A flash darted from the clouds, spreading the ghastly light of a moment through the black heavens, which hung above them as one vast sepulchre; and the peal which followed, with a crash which quaked the earth, seemed to rend asunder the mighty mass, only to reveal its depths of darkness and of terrors. The bark tossed like gossamer upon the heaving waters; and, as the prince and his companions beheld O'Donoghue's white horses riding on their lofty crests, despair sat on each pale brow, and silence on every lip. Above and around them, the tempest pealed with a strength which laughed to scorn their puny efforts at escape, and a rage, which seemed to proclaim an anarchy of the elements. As they looked on each other, their lips, white and bloodless, quivered in that agony of terror, which shuns the question of hope, and fears to speak its own dark secret of despair. As men, who in the thunder hear their doom pronounced through heaven, and re echoed on earth, awaiting the final moment, they sate in that rigid calmness more terrible than the immobility even of death, when the scanty relic of life retreats before despair to its citadel-when the breath flutters feverishly on the lip, and the sunken lightless eye needs but the closing hand to seal it in darkness for ever. The hands of some were locked in the desperate struggle between the faint hope which yet lingered in their hearts, and the certainty of death which lowered in every cloud, and spoke in every peal; while others rallied their remaining strength to mutter a prayer, ere they sank for ever, and turned their ghastly faces to that heaven, whose lightnings gave them the livid hue of death. A moment more, and a huge wave struck the laboring bark. On all sides the water poured in with the strength of a torrent, and she sunk with her gallant crew for ever. Boats had pushed off in all directions from the castle, for the relief of the sufferers; and, as the retainers rushed forward to man them with a loyal devotion to the prince, which shrank not even from certain death, the monarch promised a generous bounty from his own hand to him whose valour should rescue the prince Morni. They struggled, but in vain, against the waves. They could advance but a small distance from the shore; their baffled energy seemed but a sport to the waters, which rose around them as with the conscious omnipotence of element; and, despairing of success, they saw their prince go down. But what was the generous sorrow of these brave and hardy followers, to the abandonment, despair, and madness of Ethnea. From her turret she had The legend of O'Donoghue is popular throughout Ireland. According to tradition he was a celebrated chieftain, remarkable equally for his warlike feats as the virtues exhibited during time of peace. Seated at a banquet one day, among his nobles and subjects, he was prophesying the injuries and degradation which awaited his country, when, suddenly rising from the table, he walked in the direction of the lake, which yielded not to his pressure, and having reached the centre in safety, immediately disappeared from the presence of his companions, who watched him from the shore. The prevailing superstition is, that on every May-day morning, (the anniversary of his departure,) he rises from the wave to revisit his ancient domains. His appearance is an omen of a rich harvest. Mounted upon a milk-white steed, he is preceded by au immense wave of foam. The chieftain, in his annual visit to "the glimpses of the moon," is supposed still to retain his martial habiliments; his snowy plume floats backward from his steel casque, like the foam of the wave on which he rides, while a light scarf flutters gracefully on his arm, whose color is that of the cerulean which reflects it. To this day, "O'Donoghue's white horses" is a proverb throughout Ireland. 1846.] Morni and Ethnea. watched the bark, which bore her Yet with this change of nature there lover, float on the sunny wave, as still clung to him one feeling, which buoyantly as the sea-bird, when it linked him with that he had abandonrests its weary wing, and dips it in the ed. The image of Ethnea was yet silver lymph. The heavens spread graven on his heart; the memory of above them like a world of smiles, and their vows had not passed away with the rich light, which curtained heaven the doom which severed them; and, and earth, seemed as though the reign though wandering between the dark of day had become eternal, and the realms of death and those which resceptre of night was broken, which vealed the path to a new nature and brought darkness and rest to man. existence, his thoughts strayed back to With boding eye she had watched the bower of Ethnea, where, by her each cloud as it slowly rose, and added side, he once more spoke of their briits dark mass to the tempest which ga- dal, and heard the enchanting melody thered in silence, and burst in fury. of her lute. In terror she gazed upon the flashes which seemed to blazon their doom upon the sky in characters of fire. She heard the mighty boom of the wave, as it burst upon the shore in deep and stern reply to the thunder. She saw the light bark swallowed by the waters, which roared and swept around her, like a monster eager for his prey. Her senses became darkened and confused. The sky floated before her as an ocean of liquid fire. The thunder pealed in her ear, and the remorseless wave swelled around her with a resistless, suffocating strength. In her delirium, she murmured a prayer for the soul of her lover, and was borne senseless from the turret by her maidens. To feel the recollections of earth still retaining their freshness, the impulses of humanity still warm within his heart, and its feelings and affections still hanging around him, like the fragments of a nature doomed and accursed, was a constant torture, which rendered Morni blind to the pageants and wonders which swept past him in this new world enveloped in clouds of azure light, and deaf to the spiritual harmony which seemed to rise from the emerald caves of the waters, floating in soft and voluptuous measures from the lips of Naiads, or rushing with the power of a tide from the tortuous cavities of the sea-shell. As thus he lay, distracted between the visionary charms of his new-existence, and the memories and affections which still bound the wanderer to earth, a strain reached him, floating towards him with such gentle harmony, as made him deem it was the waves discoursing music, and rising with such full, yet mellow power, as to challenge the melody of mortal lip, and breathe on the ear the spell of an unknown world. The sounds grew stronger, and with their strength the melody became sweeter. Above, below, around, gushed the soft strains, as though every drop of the azure mass had been transformed into spirit, and inspired with the harmony of its new creation. As the sounds approached, the minstrels became visible. Thousands upon thousands, like the swift messengers of the tempest, sped their way on their outspread crystal wings, the brow of each decked with the blossoms of the sea-flower, wrought into a garland; and the light robes, which hung with a vapory grace around their forms, were woven from the mist and sunbeam, which alternately hovered around their silver realms. As with one impulse, they paused before Morni, and, laying their garlands at his feet, sang, with a softness which invaded his senses with a dreamy power, the following: There's a world of light far, far from thine eyes, Beneath us are couches of pearls so white, Down! down to the depths! away! The wealth of the insects' coral isle Sends a blush thro' the wave from its crimson pile, And thy dreams shall be woven of beauty and light, And the sun of the morning shall rise to thine eye, Like an orb, whose light never sets in the sky. Down! down to the depths! away!- Then, away! where the coral and emerald lie, As the strain died away, the trance of Morni passed. He started from his recumbent posture: the garlands still lay at his feet, and the spirits knelt as before one whose favour they sought, and whose power they acknowledged. On a sudden, he felt himself invested with a form resembling theirs, and arrayed in the light, cloud-like drapery which enveloped them. The wings already fluttered at his back, tempting his flight through the unsearched depths which lay before him. Their buoyant strength raised him from the ground, and, preceded by the spirits, he was borne onward with a speed which challenged that of the wind. As he flew, his heart acquired fresh and unknown impulses of his new nature; he exulted in cleaving with the swift penetration of an arrow the massy waves, as they gathered before and around him in his progress, and bearing the gurgling water, as it rushed past him, uttering its deep, mysterious harmony, as though it rose from the sacred lips of nature. But, though a spirit in form, and sharing the subtle influences of his nature, his heart wandered back to the presence of Ethnea, and poured forth its rich tribute of idolatry and love. The spirits at length paused in their flight, and the veil, which had hitherto obscured the vision of the prince, was now withdrawn, to reveal a prospect whose beauty vied with the fantastic decorations of art, and exceeded the endless variety which nature has so prodigally lavished on the vale, the mountain, and the stream. They stood before a vast and magnibled one continuous sheet of light, as ficent palace, whose agate-walls resemthey caught the calm, fixed radiance of the moon, and flashed back the sparkling waves, which burst in showers of silver. The glistening pile seemed to have risen, the creation of a moment, the workmanship of spirits. Not a seam or partition could be seen upon the walls; but like an eternal bulwark they stood, for ages past and to come, defying the rage of tempest and wave, and wrought of one solid and impenetrable mass. In the great space, which spread before it, were clustered flowers of every hue and fragrance, as much surpassing the fertility of earth, as the gorgeous edifice in strength and splendour exceeded the perishable efforts of human art. Around it waved a rich forest of trees, whose foliage sparkled like the emerald, and whose fruits, depending from the boughs in the weight of plenty and luxuriance, vied with the delicate blush of the coral. Flower and tree appeared to have bloomed in the ceaseless sunshine of a thousand summers; no worm was there to blight the verdure of the leaf, nor storm to rend the fruit from its undying stem. It was a paradise of the wave, sleeping in the rainbow hues of its own element. The entrance to the palace was one rich unvaried path of pearl, conducting to a lofty flight of steps strewn with flowers, which glowed like a carpet of damask. Beneath the crystal portico of the palace were spread couches of the same material, inwrought with emerald, on which reclined the aëry forms of spirits, some lost in the voluptuous dreams of their resplendent world, and others answering the murmur of the wave with the soft, delicious melody of the lyre. As the spirits winged their flight toward the palace, they waved to Morni, who stood entranced as before wonders raised by a magician, to follow them; while, as they flew among the trees, or floated on the flowers with a step so light, as neither to wake their fragrance, or brush the down from a single leaf, their voices once more swelled in their wild lay; "For the evening dawns, and the moonlit sheen Will guide to the throne of our Naiad queen." The spirits started from their couches, and the lyres responded to the notes, which announced their approach. As Morni reached the portico, a dizzy faintness pervaded him; he felt the measure of his flight was staid; that, though a spirit, he stood beneath the spell of a superior power; and the tears of his earthly nature streamed from his eyes as he became conscious that his wings were folded, and himself bound, as by a chain, to the spot. But, while he wept, an eye rested on him, which tears had never stained, and whose brightness sparkled, like the gems of the element she ruled. A moment more, and led, as a captive, by that bright company, whose track he had followed with the speed and lightness of a bird, he was conducted into the spacious hall of the palace, and stood before the throne of their Naiad-queen. Silent and trembling he stood before the form which filled the throne. The submission of those around him, and the sceptre she waved as she issued her commands, bespoke her queen of this rich and mysterious world. As he raised his eyes in fear of reproof, the soft, yet intense light of her's fell on him. He shrank beneath the glance, even though a smile played upon her lip. Such radiance never beamed from mortal eye; and, in terror, he awaited the doom he momently expected to be pronounced by the avenging spirit. She waved her sceptre, and the spirits vanished; but anon, in the distance, gushed the tremulous melody of the wave, and the responding lyres of the airy minstrels. Why weepest thou?" said the Naiad, in a tone of sweetness, which never yet hallowed a lip of earthly. nature, or rose from the strings of its most finely wrought instrument; "bewailest thou that sad doom of earth, which claims thee as her child, and locks thee in the coldness and decay of her eternal embrace? Or dost thou weep?" "That I have loved, bright queen," interrupted Morni, "and am miserable;" and, as he spake, he fell on his knees before the throne, and clasping his hands to his eyes, the tears once more gushed through them. Thine," replied the Naiad, "are the first tears which have ever stained my crystal floor, or mingled with the element I rule." "Pardon! pardon!" said the distracted Morni, stretching out his hands imploringly ; Nature claims her debt, even though she exacts it from the very soul. What to me is the dazzling splendor of this thy world, which pales the moon and her sparkling retinue, and fixes on itself the stamp of heaven, and the smiling protection of a God?What to me is the eternal, though joyless light, which, like some subtle flame, beams around thee forever, yet never waxes more dim or weaker,-which floats above and beneath thee in one inextinguishable mass; the ruling element of thy world, the pervading principle of its creation? What to me ?Yet pardon, fair Queen-give me to revisit earth, once more to see its flowers, and hear the murmur of its summer wind-give me," he added, in a subdued tone, "once again to clasp Ethnea-" "But for me," rejoined the Naiad, "thou hadst died in the dread tempest, which this day swept my realm, and gave thy companions to their dreary fate.-Of all, thou alone wert rescued." "And wherefore ?" enquired Morni, in a tone of despair, his hands locked together, and his head hanging on his breast-" wherefore was I saved from death to be the slave of misery? Wherefore was I deprived of the nature in which alone happiness awaited me, and made the denizen of this mysterious world, where the sense of death and decay which still clings to me, is rendered more loathsome to the earth-born, from the immortality which pervades thy realm and beams on the brow of every spirit; where, like a wanderer, whose path leads to some bright oasis, I stand alone and isolated: no lip to answer the tones of joy and wonder which tremble upon mine, and quiver within my heart; no eye to roam with mine through the broad, unmeasured fields of beauty, or share the gladness which beams in every glance. Bright queen, I am, indeed, alone "Not where love is thy companion,” replied the Naiad. Alas!" answered Morni, "that remained behind, as in mockery, while the image has been torn from me.Like the sun, it has passed from the eye, but left behind it a light, which consecrates even its departure." "Speakest thou. fair youth, of the Princess Ethnea ?" said the Naiad. 66 Twas she whom I loved, from whom I was torn ere I could call her mine," answered Morni, with a fervor which spoke of grief even more than despair; "and whom now I mourn amid all the beauty which could inspire forgetfulness of earth and her fairest daughters." "And in a world like this," rejoined the Naiad, "where spirits are thy companions; where immortality has broken the shaft of death, and scattered the ashes from the urn of decay; where we count not time by the decline of light to the tomb of darkness, but feel around us an eternal day, bright and endless as the sky it springs from; where the tears, which fret the cheek of earthly beauty, the groans of human suffering, and the measures of hate or discontent which pollute the air of your upper world, and rise to its heaven in rebellion against its God-are unheard and unfelt; but instead we hear the ceaseless harmony of the wave, and the joyous chaunt of spirits. And is it in a world like this, thou weepest because thou hast been taken from one whose waters are corrupted with the tear which agony mingles with them?-whose flowers bloom in the morning sun, only to close their leaves in darkness and decay as he leaves them chilled in the air of night?—a world where even woman, the star of your heaven, the idol of your eye, and the passion of your heart, pales, withers, and drops into the grave, like a blossom from its stem ;-a world on which death hath set a seal, inviolable and eternal;—an empire, whose boasted lord is compounded of dust, and whose fretful reign, to the eye of immortality, is but the glow and extinction of a spark." I tremble to hear thee," replied Morni; "the lips of an immortal speaks with the terror and the truth of death. I weep not that I have left the earth or am freed from the nature, whose law was decay, and the penalty of whose brief enjoyments was dust. I weep that 1 loved "The love of a spirit, as it is power, is more lasting than that of woman," said the Naiad. "There is the thought," answered Morni, "which weighs upon me, like a curse, in this new world. From the holy intercourse of spirits I am severed; the impulses which springs, like an exhaustless fountain, in an immortal bosom, I can never know. I feel myself an outcast-a wanderer---`` "'Twas love which rescued thee from death," replied the Naiad, “ and love which commanded thee before my throne." "Love!" repeated Morni, in astonishment, "of whom?" "The love of her who rules these realms-at whose feet thou kneelest," answered the Naiad; and while she spoke, a tenderness, like mist upon the moon, dimmed for the moment the jewelled lustre of her eyes. Nay, mock me not, I pray thee, fair queen, for I am miserable," exclaimed Morni, as he started to his feet, and with a wildness, partaking of the unconsciousness of the dreamer, gazed around upon the sparkling walls, which, as in mockery of the darkness and confusion stealing on him, still poured down their rich and massive columns of light"Thou-a spirit!-a queen! to love one born of earth!" he cried, still looking around him in bewilderment, (To be Continued.) |