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 | CANTO II                             II.      The twain Nahants lie  side by side,III.In one harmonious union blent ;
 The
                          matchless bridegroom and the bride –
 One soul, one sentiment ;
 United still through tempest, change and  calm,
 They pass from age to age, bound arm in  arm.
      Still on that ocean  couch sublime,Beneath their azure  coverlet,
 Soft gliding down the  tide of time,
 They sweetly slumber yet.
 O, that in such celestial scene as  this,
 Man’s soul should sink to deeds of  wickedness !
                             . . .                         CANTO IV                            XVII.       The boat lies waiting  on the shore,Her prow impatient to the deep
 “ Fair daughter of the Sagamore,
 Blest are the eyes that weep !”
 Low  speaks the youth !  “Ya-wa-ta, fare thee  well!
 This  gift from Christopher and Arabel. ”
                           XVIII.      “The Indian girl  cares not for gold ;”Ya-wa-ta said, “ but I would be
 Remembered, when the waves have  rolled
 You far beyond the sea !
 Know that the child of Na-na-pas-he-met,
 If still she live, loves and  remembers yet!”
                            XIX.      “ Have we no token then for thee,Of grateful hearts and sad farewell ? ” –
 “ That wondrous locket might I  see,
 Nor wrong thee, Arabel ” –
 Sweet friend, thine shall the golden locket  be,
 Nor dearer gift, though small, couldst ask of   me”
                              XX.       In  tender, silent eloquence,They parted by the “ Swallows’ Cave. ”
 The sails, unfurled, are wafting  thence
 That Cruiser of the wave.
 Ya-wa-ta’s dream of bliss dissolves  away ;
 Her sun goes down, and darkness  ends the day!
                              XXI.       Long gazing stood she by the cave ;Stood gazing, till her eye grew dim,
 On one who bore upon the wave
 Her heart away with him –
 Till lost to view. – When lo ! refracted  high
 The parting ship rides proudly  through the sky !
                              XXII.       A  sail above , a sail below – The thought, the thing, – a double sea
 Like soul and body, onward go !
 Which was reality ?
 The one, perchance, sank buried  in the wave ;
 The other rose – to find a phantom  grave !
                               . . . |