From the L0dy's Book. THE MANIAC MAID.
{"character_count": 2466, "word_count": 462, "ccnet_language_score": [0.9348000288009644], "ccnet_perplexity": [1255.0999755859375], "fasttext_language": ["en"]}
By P. KENYON KILBoUKN. " She needs not how the mad waves leap Along the rugged shore, She looks for one upon the deep She never may see more. ."-MrS. Hale. A brave young sailor kneT.

 Before far Rosalie; No happier maiden dwelt

 In all the land, than she. Bat those bright hours are over-

 The. pillows and the breeze Have borne her gallant lover

 Far off upon the seas! Alas, for Rosalie!

 Her cheek is wan and pale; She wandeFs by the sea,

 And watches every sail. When winds and breakers roar,

 And hghtnings round her burn, Sbe sits upon the shore,

 And sighs fur his return. At eve, when nought is heard

 But the roar of the dashng wave, And the voice of the lone sea bird

 That sings from her coral cave, She wanders forth, all lonely,

 The rocks and cliffs among, And to the cold sea, only, 4 Pours forth her nlonrnful song. sEvhen will he come ?" she muttcred, In low and s.ifEed tone, And deep were the VOWS she utteFed, As by the wave.washed stone She knelt in holy sorrow,

 And pour'd her prayer of grief, And sighed for the morrow

 To bring her heart relief "When will he come 2" I've sought h;m For many a weary night; The bark that should have brought him, Has not appeared in sigEA. An! has the angry pillow

 Overwhelmed him in the sen, And made it's bed his pillow

 1t cannot, cannot be How pure, how brave, how fearless, The soul that dwelt in him! " would seem an eye so fearless, Old Death might never dim! When cold night.storms were fineing The snrges to the clouds, His merry ballad singing,

 He climbed the slippery shrouds! And ca i, he, o Heaven!

 Has that angelic form, By blasts and tempests driven,

 Gone down amid the storm And have the waves swept OCT him, And set his spirit fee Then alone deplore him,

 For none will weep but me! "When will he come '" Poor maiden! We'll may thy tear.drops start; With dews thy locks are laden, A pail is on thy heart! The terrors of the ocean- N The last bcwildering call- The pillows wild commoton-

 He sReps beneath them all! When will he coms 2" An neverl .. The alEengulphing wave Hath closed OCT him forever,

 And sealed his silent grave! The storm may sweep above him, And rock the restlsse deep, Nor wind nor wave can move him, Or break his quiet sleep! When will he come 2" o leave him To sIumher with the dead; The genii will receive him

 In his far ocean bed. On this lone desert stay not,

 He will return no more; The mountain wave survey notr Ohavo the gloomy shore