The International library of famous literature, selections from the world's great writers, ancient, mediaeval, and modern with biographical and explanatory notes and critical essays by many eminent writers . 83G he became professorof modern languages and literature at Harvard, and held the chair for eighteenyears. He died at his home in Cambridge, Mass., March 24, 1882. His chiefvolumes of poetry are: Voices of the Night (1839), Ballads, SpanishStudent, Evangeline, The Golden Legend, The Song of Hiawatha, The Courtship of Miles Standish, Tales of a Wayside Inn. He also wrotein prose : Outre-Me
The International library of famous literature, selections from the world's great writers, ancient, mediaeval, and modern with biographical and explanatory notes and critical essays by many eminent writers . 83G he became professorof modern languages and literature at Harvard, and held the chair for eighteenyears. He died at his home in Cambridge, Mass., March 24, 1882. His chiefvolumes of poetry are: Voices of the Night (1839), Ballads, SpanishStudent, Evangeline, The Golden Legend, The Song of Hiawatha, The Courtship of Miles Standish, Tales of a Wayside Inn. He also wrotein prose : Outre-Mer, and the novels Hyperion and Kavanagh.] Speak ! speak ! thou fearful guestWho, with thy hollow breastStill in rude armor drest, Comest to daunt me!Wrapt not in Eastern balms,But with thy fleshless palmsStretched, as if asking alms, Why dost thou haunt me ? Then, from those cavernous eyesPale flashes seemed to when the Northern skies Gleam in December;And, like the waters flowUnder Decembers snow,Came a dull voice of woe From the hearts chamber. I was a Viking old!My deeds, though manifold,No Skald in song has told,No Saga taught thee!Take heed, that in thy verseThou dost tlie tale rehearse,. o O o1-) CO Q w MO wo THE SKELETON IN AKMOK. 5735 Else dread a dead mans curse !For this I sought thee. Far in the Northern Laud,By the wild Baltics strand,I, with my childish hand, Tamed the gyrfalcon;And, with my skates fast-bound,Skimmed the half-frozen Sound,That the jjoor whimpering hound Trembled to walk on. Oft to his frozen lairTracked I the grisly bear,While from my path the hare Fled like a shadow;Oft through the forest darkFollowed the werewolfs bark,Until the soaring lark Sang from the meadov/. But when I older grew,Joining a corsairs the dark sea I flew With the was the life we led;Many the souls that the hearts that bled, By our stern orders. Many a wassail boutWore the long Winter out,Often our midnight shout Set the cocks crowing,A
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