20 
THE SEA-SERPENT. 
sailor, when, unmailed, he bares his bosom to the 
foe ? In love’s unwritten history there is a sym¬ 
pathetic chain, — links formed and forged in mys¬ 
tery, that maids nor poets can explain. 
VII. 
“I know your power, but cannot think that 
even the winds and waves obey ; though ’t is said 
that the king of beasts will shrink, and turn from 
the path of a maid aw T ay ; — ’tis a fancy wild. 
But He who spread the waters of the glorious sea 
has stilled them, —you have often read the mir¬ 
acle of Galilee. 
“ ’T is true I spoke of danger near ; I was 
thinking of stories strange and old, that^ell might 
blanch the cheek with fear, by the ancient Scalds 
to the Vikings told. High up among the northern 
seas, where glittering icebergs coldly shine, their 
bards sang sagas wild like these, while bearded 
sea-kings quaffed their wine. I love right well their 
Runic lore, and often in my boyhood’s days have 
gathered, from its ample store of mystic rites and 
