Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti,

Because you have scaled the wall, Such an old moustache as I am

Is not a match for you all!

I have you fast in my fortress,
And will not let you depart,

But put you down into the dungeon
In the round-tower of my heart.

And there will I keep you forever, Yes, forever and a day,

Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,

And moulder in dust away!

ENCELADUS.

UNDER Mount Etna he lies,

It is slumber, it is not death; For he struggles at times to arise, And above him the lurid skies

Are hot with his fiery breath.

The crags are piled on his breast,

The earth is heaped on his head; But the groans of his wild unrest, Though smothered and half suppressed,

Are heard, and he is not dead.

And the nations far away

Are watching with eager eyes;

They talk together and say, "To-morrow, perhaps to-day,

Enceladus will arise!"

And the old gods, the austere
Oppressors in their strength,

Stand aghast and white with fear
At the ominous sounds they hear,

And tremble, and mutter, "At length!"

Ah me! for the land that is sown

With the harvest of despair!

Where the burning cinders, blown
From the lips of the overthrown
Enceladus, fill the air.

Where ashes are heaped in drifts
Over vineyard and field and town,
Whenever he starts and lifts

His head through the blackened rifts

Of the crags that keep him down.

See, see! the red light shines!

"T is the glare of his awful eyes!

And the storm-wind shouts through the pines

Of Alps and of Apennines,

"Enceladus, arise!"

THE CUMBERLAND.

Ar anchor in Hampton Roads we lay,

On board of the Cumberland, sloop-of-war; And at times from the fortress across the bay The alarum of drums swept past,

Or a bugle blast

From the camp on the shore.

Then far away to the south uprose

A little feather of snow-white smoke,

And we knew that the iron ship of our foes Was steadily steering its course

To try the force

Of our ribs of oak.