THE OLD VIKING.

Why ’midst these shadowy woods should I In grave-like loneness, lingering, die? ’Tis ours to unfurl the sail, and ride Away as of old on the flashing tide. How bleak these beetling crags, and bare! What lifeless gloom broods everywhere! In this poor mousetrap of a hold, How can a warrior’s heart be bold? The billows dark, the galley strong, I learned to love when life was young; Why then should I, with whitened hair, Die like an old wolf in his lair? Oh, better far it were for me To risk my life on the rolling sea, To die as died my fathers brave, And sleep with them in their ocean-grave! Farewell, ye woods and crags, farewell! My bark rides brave on the billowy swell; The tall mast swings, the sail flaps free, And our home once more is the boundless sea. John Russell.