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 | Verses from The island book |  |
6
ON A SOLITARY GRAVE FOUND ON THE ISLAND.
O'er that simple mound, in the forest wild,
May the stranger thoughtful tread;
For beneath it sleeps a long-lost child
Alone in its lonely bed.
May the stranger thoughtful tread;
For beneath it sleeps a long-lost child
Alone in its lonely bed.
No record tells of its birth or name,
Or what hopes lie buried there,—
Of the tears which were shed for the loved one dead,
Or the hearts that were bowed in prayer.
Or what hopes lie buried there,—
Of the tears which were shed for the loved one dead,
Or the hearts that were bowed in prayer.
Perhaps 't was its mother, who thought the sleep
Of her child might calmer be,
Where the wild flowers bloom on its grassy tomb,
And the breath of heaven is free.
Of her child might calmer be,
Where the wild flowers bloom on its grassy tomb,
And the breath of heaven is free.
She laid him down where the summer winds
And the birds his requiem sing;
Where the young fawns play, when early day
Is fresh with the dews of spring.
And the birds his requiem sing;
Where the young fawns play, when early day
Is fresh with the dews of spring.
7
The autumn leaves have for untold years
Fallen lightly on that lone grave,
And the stars at night shed their mild pure light
Through the branches that o'er it wave.
Fallen lightly on that lone grave,
And the stars at night shed their mild pure light
Through the branches that o'er it wave.
We would have it thus:—let the nameless child
Still sleep in its forest grave,
On the tranquil breast of Nature at rest,
And its spirit with God who gave.
Still sleep in its forest grave,
On the tranquil breast of Nature at rest,
And its spirit with God who gave.
1843.
10
SONG.
O let no change in after years
Efface the magic spell,
That fancy weaves around these scenes
Where memory loves to dwell!
Amidst the toiling throngs of life,
The world's most tainted air,
O keep unstained from vulgar strife
The feelings cherished here!
Efface the magic spell,
That fancy weaves around these scenes
Where memory loves to dwell!
Amidst the toiling throngs of life,
The world's most tainted air,
O keep unstained from vulgar strife
The feelings cherished here!
We'll then, as now, round friendship's shrine
The heart's libation pour,
And sadly still fresh garlands twine,
At twilight's musing hour.
The heart's libation pour,
And sadly still fresh garlands twine,
At twilight's musing hour.
When loudly moans the autumn gale,
In storm the daylight fades,
And life-like tones of seeming wail
Sound through the forest glades,—
O they, the loved of other days,
How fondly then they seem
To hover round our thoughtful gaze,
Like a remembered dream!
In storm the daylight fades,
And life-like tones of seeming wail
Sound through the forest glades,—
O they, the loved of other days,
How fondly then they seem
11
Like a remembered dream!
We'll then, as now, round friendship's shrine
The heart's libation pour,
And sadly still fresh garlands twine,
At twilight's musing hour.
The heart's libation pour,
And sadly still fresh garlands twine,
At twilight's musing hour.
And when the tranquil summer air
Breathes on its earliest flowers,
The thought, amid these scenes so fair,
Steals o'er our happiest hours
Of those whom oft with joy we met:—
They still are lingering near;
We meet them yet, we meet them yet,
In storm and sunshine here.
Breathes on its earliest flowers,
The thought, amid these scenes so fair,
Steals o'er our happiest hours
Of those whom oft with joy we met:—
They still are lingering near;
We meet them yet, we meet them yet,
In storm and sunshine here.
We'll now, as then, round friendship's shrine
The heart's libation pour,
And sadly still fresh garlands twine,
At twilight's musing hour.
The heart's libation pour,
And sadly still fresh garlands twine,
At twilight's musing hour.
Oct. 1841.
14
[You say they're happy now]
You say they're happy now,
Those fair young brides,—
The calm unruffled brow
No pang of sorrow hides.
Earth all in flowers is dressed;
The rainbow hues of heaven
On their horizon rest,—
An arch of promise given
To youth in the first flush
And freshness of its days,
Like the soft radiant blush
Of morn's unclouded rays.
Those fair young brides,—
The calm unruffled brow
No pang of sorrow hides.
Earth all in flowers is dressed;
The rainbow hues of heaven
On their horizon rest,—
An arch of promise given
To youth in the first flush
And freshness of its days,
Like the soft radiant blush
Of morn's unclouded rays.
Lightly may shadows fall
Around their future path,
And memory still recall
Their fondly plighted faith;
Whilst love, with pencil dipped in colors bright,
Shall fringe the cloud with its own roseate light.
Around their future path,
And memory still recall
Their fondly plighted faith;
Whilst love, with pencil dipped in colors bright,
Shall fringe the cloud with its own roseate light.
Oct. 1841.
16
SUNG AT THE HUNT, OCT. 1839.
Come to the sports of our wave-circled Isle,
Come when the forest is changing;
By the starry light of an autumn night
The deer through the woods are ranging.
Come when the forest is changing;
By the starry light of an autumn night
The deer through the woods are ranging.
The hoar-frost fringes the moss-covered tree,
The wind through the boughs is sighing;
Though its leaves are sear with the waning year,
A buck in their shade is lying.
The wind through the boughs is sighing;
Though its leaves are sear with the waning year,
A buck in their shade is lying.
The hues of summer are gone from the hill,
But the sunshine around it is streaming;
With a living light the forest is bright,
Where the doe in her lair is dreaming.
But the sunshine around it is streaming;
With a living light the forest is bright,
Where the doe in her lair is dreaming.
These are the glories of Nature's decay,—
She fades with no tinge of sadness;
O'er her scarlet bowers, o'er the dying flowers,
The fawns are leaping in gladness.
She fades with no tinge of sadness;
O'er her scarlet bowers, o'er the dying flowers,
The fawns are leaping in gladness.
And thus should life, like the fleeting year,
Grow bright as it nears the gloaming,
Till it shines a star in the fields of air,
Where the loved and lost ones are roaming.
Grow bright as it nears the gloaming,
17
Where the loved and lost ones are roaming.
Then come to the sports of our wave-circled Isle,
Come when the forest is changing;
By the starry light of an autumn night
The deer through its woods are ranging.
Come when the forest is changing;
By the starry light of an autumn night
The deer through its woods are ranging.
18
ESCAPE OF THE BUCK.
The mist had fallen o'er wood and stream,
And from branch and leaf flashed the diamond's gleam;
In the sunlight glancing abroad they threw
With trembling beauty their rainbow hue.
And from branch and leaf flashed the diamond's gleam;
In the sunlight glancing abroad they threw
With trembling beauty their rainbow hue.
Below was reflected each fragile gem
Of a bright and stainless diadem;
The sea-gull watched for his shining prey,
Far down in that liquid galaxy.
Of a bright and stainless diadem;
The sea-gull watched for his shining prey,
Far down in that liquid galaxy.
The wild-fowl's cry and the fisherman's oar,
The distant tide on the sea-girt shore,
Alarm not the deer; with wakeful eye
He heeds each warning of danger nigh.
The distant tide on the sea-girt shore,
Alarm not the deer; with wakeful eye
He heeds each warning of danger nigh.
But a strain is heard from the hills remote;
'T is the far-off bugle's startling note.
Now rouse thee, fleet one; there 's death in delay!
The sound approaches; away! away!
'T is the far-off bugle's startling note.
Now rouse thee, fleet one; there 's death in delay!
The sound approaches; away! away!
19
Oh, why should man in his sport destroy
The charm of this scene of tranquil joy?
But the game is up with a rush and a bound,
The shout of huntsman and scream of hound.
The charm of this scene of tranquil joy?
But the game is up with a rush and a bound,
The shout of huntsman and scream of hound.
He bursts through the copse, he swims the stream,
He has 'scaped the sportsman's random aim.
Nay, pause not yet in thy swift career,
And speed in thy flight, for the foe is near.
He has 'scaped the sportsman's random aim.
Nay, pause not yet in thy swift career,
And speed in thy flight, for the foe is near.
They guard each pass, they have hemmed thee round,
And again the rifle's deadly sound!
On, on, for thy life, o'er rock and hill!
By yon winding path they wait thee still.
And again the rifle's deadly sound!
On, on, for thy life, o'er rock and hill!
By yon winding path they wait thee still.
So light his step o'er the violet's bed
That scarce the flowers are crushed by his tread;
So fleet his foot through the wooded cell,
The dew from the branches behind him fell.
That scarce the flowers are crushed by his tread;
So fleet his foot through the wooded cell,
The dew from the branches behind him fell.
He has gained the ridge, he has cleared the glade,
And is bounding free for the forest's shade.
Joy! joy! he is safe! and his antlers high
Are reflected against the clear blue sky.
And is bounding free for the forest's shade.
Joy! joy! he is safe! and his antlers high
Are reflected against the clear blue sky.
Oct. 1837.
23
SUNG AT THE HUNT OF 1868.
Now once again we've met, my boys,
To hunt the forest deer;
Now once again we 've met, my boys,
To share the Island cheer.
Then let us pledge our absent friends,—
O would they all were here!
For 't is our delight, this circle bright,
In the season of the year.
To hunt the forest deer;
Now once again we 've met, my boys,
To share the Island cheer.
Then let us pledge our absent friends,—
O would they all were here!
For 't is our delight, this circle bright,
In the season of the year.
We love the cool October skies,
The sound of dog and gun;
We love the yearly gathering,
The stores of wit and fun.
We all come here with hearts as light,
As buoyant as the air;
O 't is our delight, this circle bright,
In the season of the year!
The sound of dog and gun;
We love the yearly gathering,
The stores of wit and fun.
We all come here with hearts as light,
As buoyant as the air;
O 't is our delight, this circle bright,
In the season of the year!
There 's music on the green hill-side,
There 's health in every breeze;
There 's surely something magical
Among these old beech trees.
Our youthful days return, with step
Elastic as the deer;
O 't is our delight, this circle bright,
In the season of the year!
There 's health in every breeze;
24
Among these old beech trees.
Our youthful days return, with step
Elastic as the deer;
O 't is our delight, this circle bright,
In the season of the year!
With foot upon the dewy grass
And rifle in our hand,
Amidst the bright autumnal woods
We blithely take our stand.
And whether we hit or miss, my boys,
Though always not quite clear,
Still, 't is our delight, this circle bright,
In the season of the year.
And rifle in our hand,
Amidst the bright autumnal woods
We blithely take our stand.
And whether we hit or miss, my boys,
Though always not quite clear,
Still, 't is our delight, this circle bright,
In the season of the year.
A band of brother sportsmen met
To hunt the forest deer,
Naushon a sportsman's welcome gives,
To share her Island cheer.
We pledge the Major's joyous heart;
O would he too were here!
For 't was his delight, this circle bright,
In the season of the year.
To hunt the forest deer,
Naushon a sportsman's welcome gives,
To share her Island cheer.
We pledge the Major's joyous heart;
O would he too were here!
For 't was his delight, this circle bright,
In the season of the year.
35
[Farewell to Naushon, but we ne'er can forget]
Farewell to Naushon, but we ne'er can forgetThe days that flew swiftly away,
The few happy days when we merrily met,
Through the green lanes and forests to stray.
On her pony to ride, in her hammock to swing,
A bright party of eight were we,
O'er her calm waves to row, in her bowers to sing;—
Like the birds we were joyous and free.
1843.
42
THE EVENING STAR.
Then be to us, our dear lost child,
With beam of love
A star, death's gloom and darkness wild
Smiling above.
Soon, soon thy youthful feet have trod
The upward path, the seraph's road.
With beam of love
A star, death's gloom and darkness wild
Smiling above.
Soon, soon thy youthful feet have trod
The upward path, the seraph's road.
Farewell, then! for a while farewell!
Joy of my heart,
It cannot be that long we dwell
Thus torn apart.
Time's shadows like the morning's flee,
And dark howe'er the night may be,
Beyond the grave I'll meet with thee.
Joy of my heart,
It cannot be that long we dwell
Thus torn apart.
Time's shadows like the morning's flee,
And dark howe'er the night may be,
Beyond the grave I'll meet with thee.
1844.
45
TO A VIOLET FOUND NEAR ROBERT'S GRAVE.
Still shed thy fragrance here:Earth has no holier spot than this,
The resting-place of him, whose life
Was pure as thy fresh opening flower;—
Fit temple to enshrine twin loveliness.
The wintry night is past, and Spring
With dewy breath upon his grave
Has waked thee into life, and thou
Shalt bloom awhile in beauty;
But a voice from out those bowers
That have no winter in their year,
Has called his spirit to its home
Amidst the amaranthine flowers,
Whose perfume still shall linger round
His grave, when thou art seen no more.
1845.
50
ON THE CHRISTENING OF A CHILD TO WHOM THE NAME OF ROBERT SWAIN WAS GIVEN.
The prayer was said,
And the hand was laid,
With a parent's trusting love,
On the young child's face,
Beseeching that grace
Might be given from the Father above,
His feet to guide
By the fountain's side,
Whose waters are never dry;
His soul to train,
Till freed from stain
It shall seek its home in the sky.
And the hand was laid,
With a parent's trusting love,
On the young child's face,
Beseeching that grace
Might be given from the Father above,
His feet to guide
By the fountain's side,
Whose waters are never dry;
His soul to train,
Till freed from stain
It shall seek its home in the sky.
Then the name was given
Of a loved one in heaven:
May his spirit be ever near,
With a holy joy,
To bless the boy,
And his fainting steps to cheer!
Be that name of power,
In temptation's hour,
To check the sinful thought;
A radiant star,
Whose light from afar
With warnings of love comes fraught.
And then, 'midst the strife
Of thy manhood's life,
Thou mayst ever remember with joy
That the blight of shame
Ne'er sullied the name
Which is now thine own, dear boy.
Of a loved one in heaven:
May his spirit be ever near,
With a holy joy,
To bless the boy,
51
Be that name of power,
In temptation's hour,
To check the sinful thought;
A radiant star,
Whose light from afar
With warnings of love comes fraught.
And then, 'midst the strife
Of thy manhood's life,
Thou mayst ever remember with joy
That the blight of shame
Ne'er sullied the name
Which is now thine own, dear boy.
1845.
76
NAUSHON. A POEM.
PART FIRST.
Long ere our fathers found a resting-place
Beyond the far Atlantic wave, or ere
The adventurous mariner had left the shores
Of Spain, on his world-seeking voyage; here,
Beneath the sheltering arms of these old trees,
In some sequester'd nook where northern blasts
Had spent their force, the red man's wigwam stood,
A level space in front; the winter's sun
Shone cheerfully upon the withered grass,
His childhood's playground. Light his toil;
The woods, the shore, and the surrounding sea
Supplied his food. His savage nature slept;
The breath of Spring that fanned no hostile cheek
Softening his heart with the sweet song of birds.
And ever, as his bark canoe was out
Upon the summer sea, and ocean smoothed
Its foaming crest,—there, lightly poised upon
The mirror'd blue of the o'erarching sky,
Alone with Nature, all unconsciously
Her quiet teaching sank into his soul.
But now a change was near, a fearful change!
At morning's early dawn their wondering eyes
Beheld, slow rising from the ocean's rim,
A speck scarce larger than the sea-gull's wing.
Nearer it came before the steady gale,
In form dilating like some thunder-cloud
Driven by the storm.
Was this a Sagamore,
From Ketan's pleasant hunting-grounds,
To call his children to the spirit land?
A messenger sent from that happy home
Beyond the rising sun, where tranquil seas
And cloudless summer skies forever reign?
Happy were such her mission! Better far
If swift-winged pestilence had dogged her wake
Than such an after-tale of misery.
On, on she came, fraught with the Indian's fate,
The first dark cloud, that, travelling westward still,
Spreads o'er the red man's path its blighting shade.—
Painful it were to tell, how step by step
They sunk, debased, degraded, scarce a trace
Of their once manly, noble nature left.
A few short years of miserable life
And the last Wampanoag was gathered to his fathers.
Beyond the far Atlantic wave, or ere
The adventurous mariner had left the shores
Of Spain, on his world-seeking voyage; here,
Beneath the sheltering arms of these old trees,
In some sequester'd nook where northern blasts
Had spent their force, the red man's wigwam stood,
A level space in front; the winter's sun
Shone cheerfully upon the withered grass,
His childhood's playground. Light his toil;
The woods, the shore, and the surrounding sea
Supplied his food. His savage nature slept;
The breath of Spring that fanned no hostile cheek
Softening his heart with the sweet song of birds.
And ever, as his bark canoe was out
77
Its foaming crest,—there, lightly poised upon
The mirror'd blue of the o'erarching sky,
Alone with Nature, all unconsciously
Her quiet teaching sank into his soul.
But now a change was near, a fearful change!
At morning's early dawn their wondering eyes
Beheld, slow rising from the ocean's rim,
A speck scarce larger than the sea-gull's wing.
Nearer it came before the steady gale,
In form dilating like some thunder-cloud
Driven by the storm.
Was this a Sagamore,
From Ketan's pleasant hunting-grounds,
To call his children to the spirit land?
A messenger sent from that happy home
Beyond the rising sun, where tranquil seas
And cloudless summer skies forever reign?
Happy were such her mission! Better far
If swift-winged pestilence had dogged her wake
Than such an after-tale of misery.
On, on she came, fraught with the Indian's fate,
The first dark cloud, that, travelling westward still,
Spreads o'er the red man's path its blighting shade.—
Painful it were to tell, how step by step
They sunk, debased, degraded, scarce a trace
Of their once manly, noble nature left.
78
And the last Wampanoag was gathered to his fathers.
Their broad and rich inheritance is ours,
Ours to enjoy, with all its wealth of beauty.
The same wide ocean sparkles in the sun;
The same blue heavens are bending over us.
These ancient trees, the silent registers
Of fleeting years, might they but speak, could tell
Of simple sports and feats of manly strength;
Of grave debate in council, or the strife
To win some smiling beauty's maiden heart.
Ours to enjoy, with all its wealth of beauty.
The same wide ocean sparkles in the sun;
The same blue heavens are bending over us.
These ancient trees, the silent registers
Of fleeting years, might they but speak, could tell
Of simple sports and feats of manly strength;
Of grave debate in council, or the strife
To win some smiling beauty's maiden heart.
What their more recent notes of woodland sports,
Of moonlight walks, or whispered tale of love,
Belongs to later times and other lays.
Of moonlight walks, or whispered tale of love,
Belongs to later times and other lays.
Here as we sit beneath the deepening shade
And muse upon the Indian's hapless fate,
While twilight spreads o'er all her dusky veil,
The memories that linger round these scenes
Are of the sacred, precious things of earth,
And lift our hearts in gratitude to Him,
Alike the Indian's and the white man's God.
And muse upon the Indian's hapless fate,
While twilight spreads o'er all her dusky veil,
The memories that linger round these scenes
Are of the sacred, precious things of earth,
And lift our hearts in gratitude to Him,
Alike the Indian's and the white man's God.
104
BOAT-SONG,
TO BE SUNG ON MARY'S LAKE.
Sparkling and bright the moon's soft light
In the wake of our boat is gleaming,
As swiftly we glide where the waveless tide
Is calm as an infant sleeping.
Then pull away,
And toss the spray,
Our oars in the moonbeams glancing;
The shadows sleep
In the glassy deep,
Where the Naiad queens are dancing.
In the wake of our boat is gleaming,
As swiftly we glide where the waveless tide
Is calm as an infant sleeping.
Then pull away,
And toss the spray,
Our oars in the moonbeams glancing;
The shadows sleep
In the glassy deep,
Where the Naiad queens are dancing.
In such a night, O what delight,
O'er the lake's smooth waters flying!
The lingering ray of the parting day
On its bosom softly lying.
Then pull away, &c.
With hearts so light and eyes so bright,
No thought of care and sorrow;
Let laugh and song the hours prolong,
And we'll come again to-morrow.
Then pull away, &c.
O'er the lake's smooth waters flying!
The lingering ray of the parting day
On its bosom softly lying.
Then pull away, &c.
105
No thought of care and sorrow;
Let laugh and song the hours prolong,
And we'll come again to-morrow.
Then pull away, &c.
106
[Another year! another year!]
Another year! another year!And once again the swelling buds
And the blue violets appear,
To bid us welcome, spreading wide
Their arms:—these old fantastic trees
Still lovingly bend over us,
And every gently passing breeze
Whispers its viewless greeting.
Earth, sea, and sky, the song of birds,
The friends of happy by-gone years,
The clasp of hands, the parting words,
Are all around us. Memory
With busy thought hallows the scene,
While the young spring thus welcomes us
To its fresh robe of softest green.
1849.
114
THE DYING FAWN.
They brought him from his leafy lair,In the shade of the beech-wood tree,
And watched him with untiring care;
But he panted to be free.
They made his bed of fresh green grass;
Yet he sighed for his native home,
And a mother's love,—while she, alas!
In fruitless search must roam.
She sought him with an anxious eye
Through copse and wooded glen;
And listened for that plaintive cry
To answer hers again.
He feebly raised his drooping head,
And oped his soft black eye;
Then gently licked the hand that fed,
And laid him down to die.
Thus breathing out his little life,
Upon the floor he lay:
O who that watched the painful strife,
115
Where the wild deer roam
In their forest home,
With the young fawns there at play?
1849.
120
JENNY LIND'S GREETING TO NAUSHON.
Away, away from the wearying throng,
From the haunts of man away!
In Nature's temples, sacred to song,
I would sing a simple lay.
From the haunts of man away!
In Nature's temples, sacred to song,
I would sing a simple lay.
The words of my childhood's loving dream,
When life with the rainbow was spanned,
A song of the forest, mountain, and stream,
The song of my dear native land.
When life with the rainbow was spanned,
A song of the forest, mountain, and stream,
The song of my dear native land.
And here where the dancing sunbeams play,
Through the leaves of the woodland wild,
Once more I dream of that long-loved lay,
Again, again I'm a child,
Through the leaves of the woodland wild,
Once more I dream of that long-loved lay,
Again, again I'm a child,
And sing with a heart as light and free,
As the joyous notes of a bird;
And beneath this glorious canopy
No harsher sounds should be heard.
As the joyous notes of a bird;
And beneath this glorious canopy
No harsher sounds should be heard.
121
Then away from the artist's labored skill;
Where the wild deer makes his lair,
I would sing the songs of my native hill,
And dream once more I am there.
Where the wild deer makes his lair,
I would sing the songs of my native hill,
And dream once more I am there.
1850.
128
[Where does the spirit of gladness dwell?]
Where does the spirit of gladness dwell?
The earth, the air, and the ocean tell;
Voices of joy from the hills resound,
And echo repeats the jubilant sound.
The earth, the air, and the ocean tell;
Voices of joy from the hills resound,
And echo repeats the jubilant sound.
It swells with music the woodland lay,
It hails the dawn of the coming day;
'T is borne on the ocean's azure crest,
And dwells where the sea-bird seeks her nest.
It hails the dawn of the coming day;
'T is borne on the ocean's azure crest,
And dwells where the sea-bird seeks her nest.
Life in all forms of beauty sends forth
Its song of gladness throughout the earth;
Creation rings with the joyous shout,
Or breathes in whispers its happy note.
Its song of gladness throughout the earth;
Creation rings with the joyous shout,
Or breathes in whispers its happy note.
The bosom of childhood is its throne,
It wreathes his brow with a sparkling zone,
From his eye laughs out in boyish glee,
As he bounds o'er the hills with footsteps free.
It wreathes his brow with a sparkling zone,
From his eye laughs out in boyish glee,
As he bounds o'er the hills with footsteps free.
129
It dwells in the homes of youthful love,
It brightens the hope of an early grave;
Look where you may, you will find it there,
For the spirit of gladness is everywhere.
It brightens the hope of an early grave;
Look where you may, you will find it there,
For the spirit of gladness is everywhere.
134
CHARADE.
A bark from Tagus' golden strand,
My first floats on the stream;
Go seek it where the Emerald land
Smiles with her brightest gleam.
My first floats on the stream;
Go seek it where the Emerald land
Smiles with her brightest gleam.
My second through my first pursues
By turns its winding way;
And when descend the twilight dews,
And Bacchus bears the sway,
By turns its winding way;
And when descend the twilight dews,
And Bacchus bears the sway,
My whole the imprisoned spirit frees,
Whilst loud the jest and song
Are borne upon the evening breeze
In joyous notes along.
Whilst loud the jest and song
Are borne upon the evening breeze
In joyous notes along.
142
[You ask what's found at a watering-place]
You ask what 's found at a watering-place,To while away the hour;—
At times 't is the glance of a beautiful face
Exerts its magic power;
And often the charm of a graceful form,
Or rank, or wit suffice,
Or the prestige of wealth with jewelled arm:
Yet these we lightly prize,
Unless the soul looks out from an eye
That beams with kindness and love,
Where feeling 's enthroned, and sympathy
Its inmost depths can move.
Though fashion can win a passing smile,
And folly shake its bell,
Can any or all of these beguile,
Or the wearer's worth reveal?
O no, they are scentless flowers that grow
And thrive on flattery's breath;
They are but the gleam on a waste of snow,
While all is cold beneath,—
Or a desert mirage which mocks the sight
143
Or a flash of the dazzling meteor's light,
That shoots athwart the sky.
By the side of the living fountain's stream
A humble flower is found,
Which shuns the glare of the noonday beam
And sheds its fragrance round.
O'erlooked in the whirl of worldly strife,
Its delicate leaves unclose;
A priceless gem in the wastes of lift,
A Sharon's deathless rose.
1851.
148
THE GUARDIAN SPIRITS OF THE ISLAND TO THE LOVERS OF ITS WOODS AND WATERS.
We meet you once more
On sea and on shore,
Away from the haunts of men;
In the forest glade,
'Neath the beech-tree's shade,
We welcome you here again.
On sea and on shore,
Away from the haunts of men;
In the forest glade,
'Neath the beech-tree's shade,
We welcome you here again.
As you gaze at night
On the stars' pure light,
In silent and thoughtful mood,
We, spirits of air,
Flit around you there,
To hallow the solitude.
On the stars' pure light,
In silent and thoughtful mood,
We, spirits of air,
Flit around you there,
To hallow the solitude.
If the scene and the hour
With their witching power
May bear you away from the earth,
To that fairy land
Where an unseen band
In the realms of fancy have birth,
With their witching power
May bear you away from the earth,
To that fairy land
149
In the realms of fancy have birth,
Then together we'll glide
O'er the rippling tide,
Or tread on the foam of the wave,
And far down below
Where the corals grow,
We'll dance in the mermaid's cave
O'er the rippling tide,
Or tread on the foam of the wave,
And far down below
Where the corals grow,
We'll dance in the mermaid's cave
Or mount on the rack,
In the whirlwind's track,
When the timid cower with fear;
Midst the blinding flash
And the lightning's crash
We'll ride on its arrowy spear.
In the whirlwind's track,
When the timid cower with fear;
Midst the blinding flash
And the lightning's crash
We'll ride on its arrowy spear.
Then folding our wings,
Where the rainbow flings
Its arch o'er the parting cloud,
We'll greet yonder sun,
When his course he has run,
In the flush of his crimson shroud.
Where the rainbow flings
Its arch o'er the parting cloud,
We'll greet yonder sun,
When his course he has run,
In the flush of his crimson shroud.
Is some loved one gone
To that silent bourne
Whence no message comes to the ear,
But whose angel wing
A blessing may bring
To the heart that is sorrowing here,—
To that silent bourne
Whence no message comes to the ear,
But whose angel wing
150
To the heart that is sorrowing here,—
Or your spirit oppressed,
And longing for rest
From the wearing battle of life,
And weary and sad
You here rest your head,
Away from the painful strife?
And longing for rest
From the wearing battle of life,
And weary and sad
You here rest your head,
Away from the painful strife?
Then a loftier flight
Than the rainbow's height
'T is our mission with you to take,
Where a richer glow
Than the earth can show
O'er a cloudless morn shall break.
Than the rainbow's height
'T is our mission with you to take,
Where a richer glow
Than the earth can show
O'er a cloudless morn shall break.
1851.
162
PRAYER OF THE DEER.
O spare us, and send not o'er hill and through glen
The clamor and terror of dogs and of men,
But leave us unscared 'mid our green haunts to dwell,
Our presence the life of the hill and the dell.
The clamor and terror of dogs and of men,
But leave us unscared 'mid our green haunts to dwell,
Our presence the life of the hill and the dell.
We belong to the woods scarcely less than their shade,
And, Nature's own poetry, bound o'er the glade
For your children, who watch us at noon and at night,
We give the whole isle a new charm of delight.
And, Nature's own poetry, bound o'er the glade
For your children, who watch us at noon and at night,
We give the whole isle a new charm of delight.
1852.
168
THE STORM PETREL.
Bird of untiring wing,
Whose home is the wave's crest,
When clouds and darkness fling
Their curtains o'er the deep,
It cradles thy light sleep
Upon its heaving breast.
Whose home is the wave's crest,
When clouds and darkness fling
Their curtains o'er the deep,
It cradles thy light sleep
Upon its heaving breast.
With morning's early light,
Far o'er the long low wave
Begins thy wandering flight;
All day thy pinions sweep
Above the unfathomed deep,
Thy heritage and grave.
Far o'er the long low wave
Begins thy wandering flight;
All day thy pinions sweep
Above the unfathomed deep,
Thy heritage and grave.
Dark harbinger of storm!
Amidst the roaring surge
Is seen thy shadowy form,
As phantom-like it glides
Far down their caverned sides,
Or scales the crested verge.
Amidst the roaring surge
Is seen thy shadowy form,
As phantom-like it glides
Far down their caverned sides,
Or scales the crested verge.
169
Along their foaming track,
When ships, by tempest tossed,
Reel madly through the rack,
And stout hearts quail with fear,
Then thou art hovering near,
“Lone wandering, but not lost.”
When ships, by tempest tossed,
Reel madly through the rack,
And stout hearts quail with fear,
Then thou art hovering near,
“Lone wandering, but not lost.”
190
THE OLD BEECH TREES TO THEIR VOTARIES.
You sought our shade in summer days,
A shelter from the sun's bright rays;
And now our leaves are sear;
The winds are sweeping them away,
Where soon they'll wither and decay,
For wintry storms are near.
A shelter from the sun's bright rays;
And now our leaves are sear;
The winds are sweeping them away,
Where soon they'll wither and decay,
For wintry storms are near.
But late, our brilliant varied dyes
Shone like the clouds of sunset skies,
Or dying dolphin's hue;
A trace of verdure still remains,
Where, sheltered from the winds and rains,
The lowlier foliage grew.
Shone like the clouds of sunset skies,
Or dying dolphin's hue;
A trace of verdure still remains,
Where, sheltered from the winds and rains,
The lowlier foliage grew.
These too must fade, and all the wood,
That proud in summer beauty stood,
One sombre tint put on;
The fairy elves that brushed the dew
By moonlight where the wild flowers grew,
To milder skies have flown.
That proud in summer beauty stood,
One sombre tint put on;
The fairy elves that brushed the dew
By moonlight where the wild flowers grew,
To milder skies have flown.
191
Instead of lightly tripping feet
That came the early morn to greet,
Within our leafy bowers,
The frost-king soon with icy heel
Through glade and dell will stamp his seal
Among the dying flowers.
That came the early morn to greet,
Within our leafy bowers,
The frost-king soon with icy heel
Through glade and dell will stamp his seal
Among the dying flowers.
Long we must wrestle with the blast,
That drives before it, fierce and fast,
The whirling snow-drift on;
Our leafless limbs the only screen,
Scant shelter 'mid such wintry scene,
For shivering doe and fawn.
That drives before it, fierce and fast,
The whirling snow-drift on;
Our leafless limbs the only screen,
Scant shelter 'mid such wintry scene,
For shivering doe and fawn.
But spring shall soon unfold anew
Fresh foliage gemmed with drops of dew,
Bright sparkling in the sun;
Again you'll wander here to greet
The wood-nymphs in their loved retreat,
When day its course has run.
Fresh foliage gemmed with drops of dew,
Bright sparkling in the sun;
Again you'll wander here to greet
The wood-nymphs in their loved retreat,
When day its course has run.
And unseen spirits, hovering near,
May whisper to your listening ear
Of fairer scenes than these,—
Of groves whose bowers no frosts invade,
Whose early beauties ne'er shall fade,
Still fanned by summer breeze.
May whisper to your listening ear
Of fairer scenes than these,—
Of groves whose bowers no frosts invade,
Whose early beauties ne'er shall fade,
Still fanned by summer breeze.
1851.
196
ANNIE.
O never again may the old beechen tree
And the fresh morning air sing softly to thee;
No more shall the spring,
With its young opening flower,
Or bird on the wing,
Revisit thy bower,
Or welcome thy coming, to whisper to thee
Sweet visions, while sitting beneath the old tree.
And the fresh morning air sing softly to thee;
No more shall the spring,
With its young opening flower,
Or bird on the wing,
Revisit thy bower,
Or welcome thy coming, to whisper to thee
Sweet visions, while sitting beneath the old tree.
The winter is past, and flower, leaf, and bird
Invite thee once more, but the call is not heard.
The ear that so long
Was charmed by their song
Is now a rapt listener, where angel choirs
In praise and thanksgiving are tuning their lyres.
Invite thee once more, but the call is not heard.
The ear that so long
Was charmed by their song
Is now a rapt listener, where angel choirs
In praise and thanksgiving are tuning their lyres.
Thy step on the hill-side, brushing the dew,
Oft sought where the earliest wild flowers grew;
Or amid the wild war
Of waves on the shore,
As lashed by the storm,
They were tossed in foam,
Their deep diapason was music to thee:
It spake to thy soul of the voice of the free.
Oft sought where the earliest wild flowers grew;
197
Of waves on the shore,
As lashed by the storm,
They were tossed in foam,
Their deep diapason was music to thee:
It spake to thy soul of the voice of the free.
And the bounding pulse of thy heart kept time
To the clarion note of its swelling chime;
When the winds were hushed,
And the calm sea flushed
With the roseate tints of a summer sky,
The quiet beauty that greeted thine eye
Sunk deep in the soul,
While the tear that stole
Down thy thoughtful face
Was only a trace
Of joy that so lovely a scene was given
To earth as a foretaste of yonder heaven.
To the clarion note of its swelling chime;
When the winds were hushed,
And the calm sea flushed
With the roseate tints of a summer sky,
The quiet beauty that greeted thine eye
Sunk deep in the soul,
While the tear that stole
Down thy thoughtful face
Was only a trace
Of joy that so lovely a scene was given
To earth as a foretaste of yonder heaven.
All natural beauty became a part
Of thy spirit's life, and so filled thy heart
With the tranquil peace
Of a blessed release
From all save the thoughts of the good and pure,
That thy soul was trained to bravely endure,
And to struggle on,
Till, the victory won,
Thou hast winged thy flight
To those realms of light,
Where the talents that shone so brightly here
Are filling a wider and nobler sphere.
Of thy spirit's life, and so filled thy heart
With the tranquil peace
Of a blessed release
From all save the thoughts of the good and pure,
That thy soul was trained to bravely endure,
And to struggle on,
Till, the victory won,
198
To those realms of light,
Where the talents that shone so brightly here
Are filling a wider and nobler sphere.
1854.
206
THE GOLDEN WEDDING.
Is the hope bright? it should be so,—
Brighter than fifty years ago;
A calmer, purer, holier light,
Than shone upon the marriage rite.
Brighter than fifty years ago;
A calmer, purer, holier light,
Than shone upon the marriage rite.
For though the morn should cloudless rise,
Shadows may veil the noonday skies;
But near the close the parting ray
In lines of beauty fades away.
Shadows may veil the noonday skies;
But near the close the parting ray
In lines of beauty fades away.
So shines on earth a well-spent life,—
The daughter, sister, mother, wife,
Whose all-embracing kindness flows
In sympathy with others' woes;
The daughter, sister, mother, wife,
Whose all-embracing kindness flows
In sympathy with others' woes;
The generous heart and open hand,—
A sister of the meek-eyed band,
Whose bounty smooths the brow of care
And bids the smile displace the tear.
A sister of the meek-eyed band,
Whose bounty smooths the brow of care
And bids the smile displace the tear.
207
While friends are thronging round your home,
Alas for me! I cannot come;
But when that rare and costly gem
That sparkles in the diadem
Alas for me! I cannot come;
But when that rare and costly gem
That sparkles in the diadem
That crowns for aye the earthly rite,
Beams radiant with celestial light,
No longer lame, may I not come
And greet you in that happier home?
Beams radiant with celestial light,
No longer lame, may I not come
And greet you in that happier home?
October, 1857.
208
THE HUNT OF 1857.
We meet once more where oft we've met
In many a by-gone year;
Of all the earth, this spot is yet
The one to memory dear.
In many a by-gone year;
Of all the earth, this spot is yet
The one to memory dear.
For here, while still in manhood's prime,
Amid these scenes so fair
Oft have we hailed the glorious time
When, freed from toil and care,
Amid these scenes so fair
Oft have we hailed the glorious time
When, freed from toil and care,
Obedient to the welcome call,
With spirits light as air,
We 've gathered round the antlered hall
Its social mirth to share.
With spirits light as air,
We 've gathered round the antlered hall
Its social mirth to share.
There wit, with vine-leaved laurels crowned,
Presided o'er the feast,
The merry, joyous laugh went round
At many a sparkling jest.
Presided o'er the feast,
The merry, joyous laugh went round
At many a sparkling jest.
209
And oft the songs of ancient days
Were sung with heartfelt glee,
More welcome still the varied lays
Of island minstrelsy.
Were sung with heartfelt glee,
More welcome still the varied lays
Of island minstrelsy.
The hours flew by, and never yet
In all life's changing scene
Have lighter hearts together met,
Or happier days been seen.
In all life's changing scene
Have lighter hearts together met,
Or happier days been seen.
Thus while we keep the memory bright
Of joys forever flown,
We'll pledge the glorious chief to-night
Who reigns in old Naushon.
Of joys forever flown,
We'll pledge the glorious chief to-night
Who reigns in old Naushon.
1857.
210
FAREWELL TO NAUSHON.
Farewell to thee, Naushon!I may not look upon
Thy grand old woods and rock-ribbed shores again,
Nor watch thy gliding sail,
Or hear the rising gale
Sweep through the forest with its wild refrain,
With sound like distant roar
Of waves upon the shore
When the wild winds are tossing them in foam,
And the scared sea-birds fly,
Screaming 'neath blackened sky,
To seek some sheltering nook beneath the storm.
Or when in calmer mood
The wood's deep solitude
Sleeps in the embrace of summer's softest air,
The quiet influence
Of Nature's eloquence
Rebukes all worldly thoughts 'mid scenes so fair.
Aug. 1858.
| Verses from The island book | |