BY ENNA DUVAL.
———
These white-capped waves roll on with pride, as if
The myth that ancient poësy did tell
Were true, and they did bear upon their breasts
King Néreus with state most royal. How
They leap and toss aloft their snowy crests;
And now a tumbling billow springing up
In air, does dash and bound—another comes—
Then playfully they meet, with bursting swell