The Fisherman of Venice [pp. 635-637]

SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER.
THE FISHERMAN OF VENICE.
For the Tale upon which is founded the following little Poem,
the reader is referred to " Sketches of Venetian History," vol.
I. p. 1&1. It will be found to be nearly the same with that here
offered him in verse.
The hoary-headed Fisherman
In the Doge's Palace stands,
To the guardians of the Treasury,
Bearing St. Mark's commands And holding there a massive ring,
He bade them note it well,
As token of a victory
Over the powers of Hell.
"Last night," the ancient man began,
"By the Riva of St. Mark,
From thundering waves that wild rushed by,
1 moored my crazy bark And gazing on the blackening sky,
I said, in deep dismay,
cHere will I shun the angry flood,
Until the dawn of day.'
And foaming on with snowy crests,
The waves roared hoarsely past;
And the dirge of many shipwreck'd souls
Came screaming on the blast.
'St. Mark! It is a fearful night!'
Thus cowering down, I said;
' Fiends seem to rule the stormy flood A night to wvake the dead!'
' Well spoke! Well spoke!' and at my side,
Robed in a mantle dark;
Now first I found a stately form,
Of a moulding tall and stark.
'Well spoke! A night to rouse the dead
From their silent cells below
For they have work this night to do,
Holy and high I trow.
But haste! Unmoor thy little bark I seek San Giorgios' shore;
And I have chosen thine aged arm
To speed my passage o'er.'
'Now God forbid!' I cried aloud,
As the stormy wind swept by;
' No boat may live upon the wave,
And the tempest roars on high.
I would not tempt the waters' wrath
For a noble's state and store For he who trusts the sca to-night,
Will reach the land no more!'
'Oh, weak of faith!' the stranger said;
And his voice fell on my ear
With the persuasive melody
Of a flute, breathed soft and clear.
Oh, wveak of faith! A thousand storms
Were powerless all to harm;
Guided to do their purposed w ork
By God's Almighty arm.
Push out-for in that Iholy Name,
I seal thee safe fiom ill And we shall reach San Giorgios' strand,
A mission to fulfil.'
Then, by some hidden power impell'd,
I might not read aright,
I launched my feeble boat again
Into the wrathful night.
The storm-wind cried, and foamed the sea,
And the black clouds lowering hungCreak'd the frail timbers of my bark,
As o'er the flood she sprungNow high into the howling heaven,
Upon the waves' white crest.
And now we sank in the cavern'd gloom,
Where the sea-wrecks silent rest.
And now we labor'd in the face
Of the wild and reckless windAnd now we sped like an arrow's flight,
Leaving the land behind.
And hushed I sat, and powerless all
The bark to guide aright;
But he who then companioned me,
Seem'd to control her flight.
Brief time endured our rapid race
With wind, and storm, and floods,
Ere safe upon San Giorgios' strand
My bold companion stood.
'And rest thee here, a little space,
Thou aged and weary man.'
Thus spake he then, and vanished straight
In the night-gloom thick and wan.
And there I paused a silent space,
Until the Form returnedVWhen at his side mine aged eyes
Another shape discerned.
Then both were seated in my boat,
And bade me leave the shore,
And fearless to San Nicolo
Attempt the passage o'er.
And now the hurrying night-winds howl'd,
As with the wild fiend's voiceAnd the angry sea to white foam lash'd,
Seemed maddened by the noise;
And the boat dash'd on, all recklessly
Dancing above-belowAnd o'er the roaring element
Hurl'd wildly, to and fro.
'Fear not! fear not!' the strangers cried,
When my heart grew sick with dreadThen, nerved anew, 1 looked abroad,
As on our way we sped.
The heavy foldings of the clouds
Seem'd resting on the sea;
And urged through darkness, mist, and spray,
Like a free bird, on sped we.
And as San Nicolo we neared,
My comrades sprang on shore;
And I was left in waiting there,
Darkling and lone, once more.
But once again they sought my bark And now another form
Came forth our voyage to partake Our war with sea and storm.
' Launch forth again,' the stranger cried,
(He of the voice divine)
'And seek the Lido's castled shore, —
A guerdon rich is thine.'
And now, three shadowy shapes my freight,
I dared the waves again —
But o'er me fell wild recklessness
Of storm, and sky, and main.
Then leaped my light bark to the race,
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