OF "THE FOAM: 1 xxiii 



xn. 



And we with confident souls still followed you, 

 Where stern those serried files of icebergs rose, — 



As James of Douglas followed, — staunch and true, 

 The honoured heart he flung amongst his foes ; 



XIII. 



Till in my sailors' child-like hearts there grew 

 A vague, half-siportive reverence for that Form, 



Which, like commissioned angel, onward flew, 

 And with a halcyon spell conjured the storm ! 



XIV 



What marvel then, if — when our wearied hull 

 In some lone haven found a brief repose, 



Rude hands, by love made delicate, would cull 

 A grateful garland for your Goddess' brows ? 



xv. 



What marvel if their leader, too, would lay 



His fragile wreath of evanescent rhyme 

 At her dear feet whose image cheered his way, 



And warmed with old home thoughts the lonely time, 



XVI. 



When as he watched that sculptured life-like smile 

 Through many an anxious hour of Arctic gloom, 



Its magic influence would half beguile 



The bleak and barren ocean tracts to bloom — 



XVII. 



With well remembered woods, and Highland hills 

 That cluster round a castle's stately towers ; 



And gleaming lawns, and glens, and murmuring rills, 

 Where Edith plays amid the summer flowers ! 



