"Who dares, be he Knight or Squire bold,
To dive where the waters hiss?
I throw down e'en now a goblet of gold;
'Tis lost in that dark abyss.
He who once more that goblet has shown,
May keep the prize and call it his own."
Thus spake the King as the cup he made fly
Far into the depths below,
From where a great rock rises bluff and high,
And the seas broad waters flow.
"Who is so bold, I say once more,
As to dive and bring that cup ashore?"
And the Knights and Squires round the Monarch grouped
Were mute, though they heard him speak;
Where the wild billows raged and surged they stooped,
And none dared the goblet seek.
For the third time now the King spake so:
"Is there no one who dares to dive below?"
And, as before, not a tongue gives sound,
But a youth, of gentle birth and bold,
Steps from among the Squires around,
Freed from his mantle and girdle's fold;
And all the men and women there
With wonder gaze on the youth so fair.
And as he reaches that tall rock's height,
He scans the abyss below,
And the billows around in maddened flight,
The whirlpool hemming the waters' flow,
As, with the thunder's distant roar,
On the sea's dark bosom in foam they pour.
And they seethe and they boil, and they heave and they hiss,
As when the wild waters are mingled with fire,
And the steam-mantled spray seems the Heavens to kiss,
While wave follows wave to roll on with new ire.
Of strength or of volume lost in scorn,
As if to the sea a new sea were born.
At length that fury fierce is spent,
And darkly against the snow-white foam
Yawns in the rock a huge wide rent,
Deep as if leading to Satan's home;
While many a mighty, heaving wave
Hurled in the crater finds its grave.
Then, e'er the breakers returned once more,
The youth to his Maker muttered a prayer; —
A cry of alarm was heard from the shore;
The whirlpool had swept him away to its lair, —
And mysteriously over the swimmer bold,
Now lost in their jaws, the billows rolled.
A silence then reigned o'er the waters' abyss,
While below sounds of waves surging fell;
Quivered words on all lips, and their import was this:
"Noble-hearted young hero, farewell!"
More hollow the echoes that howl in the Deep,
And fear and suspense all in agony keep.
And they cried: "Should'st thou throw, King, thy diadem fair
In the depths, and say: 'he, who can bring it to me,
O'er this realm shall be King and that diadem wear',
No such guerdon as this should we wish for from thee.
For all that those hoarse, roaring waters conceal
No joy-breathing soul on this earth can reveal." —
"Full many a ship, to the vortex a prey,
On a sudden has sunk far below the dark wave,
Leaving mast and keel shattered — sole remnants that lay
On the sea's bosom, spared from th' insatiable grave." —
And clearer and clearer, as storms break on shore,
Draws the sound ever nearer of billows that roar.
And they seethe and they boil, and they heave and they hiss,
As when the wild waters are mingled with fire,
And the steam-mantled spray seems the Heavens to kiss,
While wave follows wave to roll on with new ire.
And, with the loud thunders' far echoing roar,
O'er ocean's dark breast with blind fury they pour.
And lo! from that dark, troubled breast of the deep,
The waves rise like swans in a mantle of snow,
While an arm and a neck, gleaming white, onward sweep,
And all the trained strength of a keen swimmer show.
'Tis he ! — and with joy he waves high in his left
The goblet of gold from the deep billows reft.
A long breath he drew, — and a deep breath he drew,
And saluted the heavenly light; —
From neighbour to neighbour the good tidings flew
"He's saved! yes, he lives! He's in sight!
From the grave, from the storm-beaten caves of the sea,
From destruction, the hero his soul has set free!"
He comes, — and around him shouts jubilant ring;
At the feet of the Monarch he falls,
And kneeling presents the gold cup to the King,
Who now to his fair daughter calls;
While she fills up with wine the bright goblet of gold,
The youth to the Monarch this stirring tale told:
"Long life to the King ! Well may mortals be glad
Who breathe in the day's rosy light ! —
In the Deep all is terrible, bitter and sad;
No mortals should pray to the Gods for a sight
Of all that in mercy they veil from their eyes,
And shroud in the vesture of night's darkest skies.
"With the speed of the lightning, waves swept me below ;
In a rocky abyss I was hurled in their flight
Against a broad stream where the swift waters flow;
And seized by two currents' impetuous might,
Like a whirlpool, in dizzy wide circles was caught,
And against their wild fury I helplessly fought.
"God, to whom for support I then turned me again,
In my sore and most terrible need,
Showed a high rocky ledge rising out of the main ;
I grasped it ; — from d**h I was freed.
And there hung the goblet, on coral reef bound,
Else in depths it had sunk that no lead can e'er
sound.
"The fathomless waters I saw far below
'Mid the thick, purple darkness of night,
And, — although by the ear not a mortal could know
They were present, — the eye with affright
Saw huge lizards and dragons crawl slowly, or bound
In that fearful abyss that was yawning around.
Swarming medley of monsters, of ebony hue,
Coiled in clusters, and ghastly, they gape, —
The Ray, thorny-finned, — the Sea-Wolf came in view,
The Hammer-fish, hideous in shape;
And Ocean's Hyaena, the Shark, lay beneath,
And threat'ningly showed me his cruel, sharp teeth.
"There I clung, — and my spirit with dread was pursued,
For no human aid could be near, —
'Mid those spectres, I only with feeling endued,
Alone in that solitude drear, —
Far below the sweet music of man's friendly tongue,
'Mid the horrible shapes of that mournful wild, flung.
"With these thoughts I shuddered, — when, crawling, drew near
A monster, its hundred joints moving;
It strove to snap at me, — a prey to wild fear,
My grasp from the coral branch losing,
I was caught by the flood, — yet it came but to save, —
For it bore me above on the breast of the wave." —
At the story he heard, marvelled greatly the King,
And he said: "Youth, the goblet is thine;
'Tis my pleasure, moreover, to give thee this ring
Set with gems from the most precious mine,
If thou once more attempt to bring tidings to me
Of the things to be seen in the depths of the sea."
His daughter had listened, and moved by the tale,
Spoke in words to persuasive tones wed:
"Cease, O Father, from sports that such horrors entail!
He has done what all other men dread.
If thou failest the lust of thy hard heart to tame,
Let these Knights who stand round put the Squire to shame." —
But swiftly the King seized the goblet of gold,
In the whirlpool he hurled it with might;
"Bring it up from the depths where the waters have rolled!
"Then," he said, "thou shalt be my best knight.
And to-day shalt thou call my sweet daughter thy bride,
Who with pity's soft voice pleads thy cause by my side."
Then the youth's soul was fired by Heavenly Power,
From his bright eyes flashed valour's own light,
As he saw the deep blush of that lovely, sweet flower,
Saw her droop as if smitten with blight;
Strongly stirr'd, he resolved the high prize to obtain; —
For life or for d**h, he dashed into the main. —
True, — the breakers are heard, — true, they roll back to land,
Announced by their thunders' loud roar;
True, with love's gaze the lady now watches the strand,
And they come, all those waters, to shore;
And they rush on above, and they rush on below, —
But they bring back no diver as onward they flow.