 | Orra |  |
Illìc, ut perhibent,—intempesta silet nox
Semper, et obtentâ densantur nocte tenebræ
Virg. Georg. Lib. 1.
Semper, et obtentâ densantur nocte tenebræ
Virg. Georg. Lib. 1.
There, as they say, perpetual night is found
In silence brooding on th'unhappy ground.
Dryden.
In silence brooding on th'unhappy ground.
Dryden.
iii
[THERE are who scorn the Muse's soothing power]
INTRODUCTION.
THERE are who scorn the Muse's soothing power,
And deem the rhyming art an idle thing
To please the wealthy in a tedious hour,
And will not deign to hear its vot'ries sing;—
Though Pegasus, they say, be swift of wing,
'Tis but a woful waste of time to ride it,
And that, to want, it seldom fails to bring
Each vain and hapless bard that doth bestride it.
And deem the rhyming art an idle thing
To please the wealthy in a tedious hour,
And will not deign to hear its vot'ries sing;—
Though Pegasus, they say, be swift of wing,
'Tis but a woful waste of time to ride it,
And that, to want, it seldom fails to bring
Each vain and hapless bard that doth bestride it.
iv
Weighed down by worldly cares, and fruitless sighs,
To scenes of pleasure, and a happier clime,
Borne by the Muse, at eve my spirit flies:
Nor do I think that this can be a crime:
I never trespass on the sacred time
Due to the worldly toil by which I live,
Nor hope to gather from my humble rhyme
The meed which nought but honest toil can give.
To scenes of pleasure, and a happier clime,
Borne by the Muse, at eve my spirit flies:
Nor do I think that this can be a crime:
I never trespass on the sacred time
Due to the worldly toil by which I live,
Nor hope to gather from my humble rhyme
The meed which nought but honest toil can give.
There is a land whose solitary coast
Looks out upon the frozen Arctic sea;
Though few the arts her simple sons can boast,
Enough that they are virtuous and free:
Oh! thither let the weary spirit flee
Whose only hope in solitude is placed,
Who would desert the busy world, and be
The lonely resiant of some gloomy waste,
And there that soul its wished-for peace may taste.
Looks out upon the frozen Arctic sea;
Though few the arts her simple sons can boast,
Enough that they are virtuous and free:
Oh! thither let the weary spirit flee
Whose only hope in solitude is placed,
Who would desert the busy world, and be
The lonely resiant of some gloomy waste,
And there that soul its wished-for peace may taste.
v
For many a weary wretch is doomed to prove
The anguish of an ever-aching breast,
And coveteth the pinions of the dove
That he may flee away and be at rest;
But he, alas! who wanders forth in quest
Of lands unvisited by human woe,
Shall wander over all the world unblest:
For perfect bliss no man on earth can know.
The anguish of an ever-aching breast,
And coveteth the pinions of the dove
That he may flee away and be at rest;
But he, alas! who wanders forth in quest
Of lands unvisited by human woe,
Shall wander over all the world unblest:
For perfect bliss no man on earth can know.
O land of darkness, and of wintry storms,
Oft do I wish, although I know not why,
To see those hills that stretch their snowy forms
Aloft beneath thy cold and sunless sky,
While deadly chilliness is in the sigh
Of gentlest airs thy frigid winter knows;
Nor wood nor stream relieves the weary eye,
But all is shrouded in accumulating snows.
Oft do I wish, although I know not why,
To see those hills that stretch their snowy forms
Aloft beneath thy cold and sunless sky,
While deadly chilliness is in the sigh
Of gentlest airs thy frigid winter knows;
Nor wood nor stream relieves the weary eye,
But all is shrouded in accumulating snows.
vi
They boast not there of conquests they have made,
Nor mourn the deeds their enemies have done;
The shining helmet, or the warrior's blade,
Has never glittered in that pallid sun;
They boast no trophies from the foeman won,
And none have yielded to his mightier hand:
No riches covet they—and they have none,
To lure the spoilers from a foreign land.
Nor mourn the deeds their enemies have done;
The shining helmet, or the warrior's blade,
Has never glittered in that pallid sun;
They boast no trophies from the foeman won,
And none have yielded to his mightier hand:
No riches covet they—and they have none,
To lure the spoilers from a foreign land.
There in the fleet Pulkha, along the plain
They glide, exulting in the rein-deer's speed,
Nor dream of happier regions, where the rein
Controuls the gallant and the mighty steed,
Where flocks around the verdant mountains feed,
And yellow corn embrowns the fading year.
Nor are they less content, than those who lead
A life of luxury and splendor here.
They glide, exulting in the rein-deer's speed,
Nor dream of happier regions, where the rein
Controuls the gallant and the mighty steed,
Where flocks around the verdant mountains feed,
And yellow corn embrowns the fading year.
Nor are they less content, than those who lead
A life of luxury and splendor here.
vii
Warm glows their summer, while the sky displays
The solar orb, but soon that summer flies;
The wintry air soon chills the short'ning days,
And suddenly the blasted verdure dies;
Then gathering clouds, and wintry storms arise,
And the pale sun withdraws his feeble light,
No longer striving with the gloomy skies,
But leaves the land to winter and to night.
The solar orb, but soon that summer flies;
The wintry air soon chills the short'ning days,
And suddenly the blasted verdure dies;
Then gathering clouds, and wintry storms arise,
And the pale sun withdraws his feeble light,
No longer striving with the gloomy skies,
But leaves the land to winter and to night.
I sing the sorrows of a faithful pair,
The hapless children of that chilly clime,
For youth and beauty are not wanting there;
Nor is ingenuous passion deemed a crime,
Although that sweet companion of our prime,
To them occasioned many a bitter hour,
And lovely Orra, in an evil time,
First gave her simple bosom to its power.
The hapless children of that chilly clime,
For youth and beauty are not wanting there;
Nor is ingenuous passion deemed a crime,
Although that sweet companion of our prime,
To them occasioned many a bitter hour,
And lovely Orra, in an evil time,
First gave her simple bosom to its power.
viii
Young Orra was a Lapland maid, and fair,
But doomed to wither by an early blight:
Her bosom seemed, beneath her long black hair,
Like snowy hills beneath the clouds of night.
Alas! that ever misery should alight
On one so beautiful, on one so young!
Alas! that all the woe I must recite,
Should, from ingenuous love, have ever sprung.
But doomed to wither by an early blight:
Her bosom seemed, beneath her long black hair,
Like snowy hills beneath the clouds of night.
Alas! that ever misery should alight
On one so beautiful, on one so young!
Alas! that all the woe I must recite,
Should, from ingenuous love, have ever sprung.
1
CANTO I.
THE heavens are again serene,
The summer sun on high is glowing,
Again the woods and vales are green,
And flowers bloom, and streams are flowing.
But whither is young Lawo going,
That thus, beneath the noontide heat,
We see him up the river rowing
His little bark so fleet.
The summer sun on high is glowing,
Again the woods and vales are green,
And flowers bloom, and streams are flowing.
But whither is young Lawo going,
That thus, beneath the noontide heat,
We see him up the river rowing
His little bark so fleet.
2
Onward he looks, the waters roll,
Still winding through the gloomy waste,
And many a cataract and shoal,
He yet shall meet to mock his haste:
But though his bark were even-paced
With thought, alas! his speed were vain:
The pleasure that he flies to taste,
His soul shall never feel again.
Still winding through the gloomy waste,
And many a cataract and shoal,
He yet shall meet to mock his haste:
But though his bark were even-paced
With thought, alas! his speed were vain:
The pleasure that he flies to taste,
His soul shall never feel again.
To-night young Orra's father gives,
In yonder vale, a gay repast;
For there the beauteous maiden lives,
And thither Lawo goes so fast;
Now see how bends his flexile mast,
And how his bark strikes up the spray!
Oh! heaven grant the breeze may last,
For he but ill can brook delay.
In yonder vale, a gay repast;
For there the beauteous maiden lives,
And thither Lawo goes so fast;
Now see how bends his flexile mast,
And how his bark strikes up the spray!
Oh! heaven grant the breeze may last,
For he but ill can brook delay.
3
Yet no repast shall Lawo share,
Far other hopes inflame his breast;
He seeks alone young Orra there,
Nor looks for pleasure from the rest.
And though no welcome be expressed
So near her reverend father's ear,
The maid has smiled on many a guest
By far less welcome, and less dear.
Far other hopes inflame his breast;
He seeks alone young Orra there,
Nor looks for pleasure from the rest.
And though no welcome be expressed
So near her reverend father's ear,
The maid has smiled on many a guest
By far less welcome, and less dear.
And now he sees the destined vale
Before him wide and far expand,
And furls at last his drooping sail,
And moors his bark upon the sand:
Impatient from his weary hand,
The youth has flung the dripping oar,
And gladly now has gained the land,
And trembling stands at Orra's door.
Before him wide and far expand,
And furls at last his drooping sail,
And moors his bark upon the sand:
Impatient from his weary hand,
The youth has flung the dripping oar,
And gladly now has gained the land,
And trembling stands at Orra's door.
4
At intervals his Orra's name
He hears, with many a tend'rer word;
He knocks, but no one to him came;
Again he knocks, but no one stirr'd.
But now young Orra's voice is heard
Far sweeter than the sweetest lay
That e'er the many-tongued bird
Chants in the woods on summer's day.
He hears, with many a tend'rer word;
He knocks, but no one to him came;
Again he knocks, but no one stirr'd.
But now young Orra's voice is heard
Far sweeter than the sweetest lay
That e'er the many-tongued bird
Chants in the woods on summer's day.
This bird is the Motacilla Suecica or Scandinavian Wagtail, which, according to Mr. Acerbi (who travelled through Lapland in 1798–9) surpasses all other Birds found in that Country, by the beauty of its plumage and the sweetness of its voice. The natives call it Saddan Keillinen, signifying the Bird of a Hundred Tongues, and is expressive of the nature of its song, which continually varies, and is an imitation of the voices of almost all other birds.
She sings—but not as erst she sung;
For, though it be a lively strain,
It falters on her trembling tongue,
And speaks a soul oppressed with pain;
But her distress would never gain
The pity of that noisy throng;
And Orra, scorning to complain,
Thus cloaks her woe in lively song.
For, though it be a lively strain,
It falters on her trembling tongue,
And speaks a soul oppressed with pain;
But her distress would never gain
The pity of that noisy throng;
And Orra, scorning to complain,
Thus cloaks her woe in lively song.
5
ORRA'S SONG.
I stood by the ocean at break of day!
My deer in the pasture keeping;
And low on the greensward a youth there lay,
In the shade of a willow sleeping.
My deer in the pasture keeping;
And low on the greensward a youth there lay,
In the shade of a willow sleeping.
His beautiful limbs they were dripping with dew,
On the thistle he rested his head;
But deep was his slumber, and little he knew,
That I bent o'er his flowery bed.
On the thistle he rested his head;
But deep was his slumber, and little he knew,
That I bent o'er his flowery bed.
6
Then smiling, the stranger arose from the ground,
And he shewed me the glittering sea;
Far over those waters my shallop is bound,
He said, wilt thou wander with me?
And he shewed me the glittering sea;
Far over those waters my shallop is bound,
He said, wilt thou wander with me?
O no, I replied, though I knew thee most true
Of lovers beneath the fair sun,
Believe me, young stranger, in vain wouldst thou sue—
My heart is not thus to be won.
Of lovers beneath the fair sun,
Believe me, young stranger, in vain wouldst thou sue—
My heart is not thus to be won.
Then he looked in my face, 'twas a piteous look,
And my hand he began to wring;
I know, he rejoined, thy young soul could not brook,
The woes that from poverty spring.
And my hand he began to wring;
I know, he rejoined, thy young soul could not brook,
The woes that from poverty spring.
7
The sun glows on high, and the weather is fair,
I will fly to the desert e'er winter begins;
The ermine I'll take, and the fox from his lair,
And my bark will be laden with choicest skins:
I will fly to the desert e'er winter begins;
The ermine I'll take, and the fox from his lair,
And my bark will be laden with choicest skins:
And my bed shall be made of the dusky fern,
Where the thistle is waving its purple flower;
And no more to my dwelling will I return
Till I gain for my Orra a wedding dower.
Where the thistle is waving its purple flower;
And no more to my dwelling will I return
Till I gain for my Orra a wedding dower.
But still, I replied, though I knew thee most true
Of lovers beneath the fair sun,
Believe me, young stranger, in vain wouldst thou sue—
For my heart is not thus to be won.
Of lovers beneath the fair sun,
Believe me, young stranger, in vain wouldst thou sue—
For my heart is not thus to be won.
8
Those notes had scarcely died away—
The cadence yet was on her tongue—
When thus responsive to her lay
Young Lawo sung:—
The cadence yet was on her tongue—
When thus responsive to her lay
Young Lawo sung:—
“And tell me then, Orra, was that the day
“When last we met by the ocean side?
“And was it that coldness which made thee say
“Thou ne'er would'st be any but Lawo's bride?”
“When last we met by the ocean side?
“And was it that coldness which made thee say
“Thou ne'er would'st be any but Lawo's bride?”
9
Her name young Orra trembling heard,
And, blushing, turned her head aside;
Her sire, too, caught the fatal word,
And saw the blush she strove to hide.
“That blush by which thy cheek is dyed,—
“Thy voice so tremulous and broken,—
“Betray thy love,” the old man cried,
“Nor need I any other token.”
And, blushing, turned her head aside;
Her sire, too, caught the fatal word,
And saw the blush she strove to hide.
“That blush by which thy cheek is dyed,—
“Thy voice so tremulous and broken,—
“Betray thy love,” the old man cried,
“Nor need I any other token.”
Then fast from Orra's azure eyes
Full many a bitter tear there fell,
And her breast—as to the watery skies
The sea will rise—began to swell
For Orra loved her sire full well,
And love she knew to him was due;
But then she felt a nameless spell
That bound her to her lover too.
Full many a bitter tear there fell,
And her breast—as to the watery skies
The sea will rise—began to swell
For Orra loved her sire full well,
And love she knew to him was due;
But then she felt a nameless spell
That bound her to her lover too.
10
Her sire with kind paternal eye,
Relenting, marked his daughter's woe,
And sighed, and almost wondered why,
He should have frowned upon her so.
Ah! who is he that does not know
How sweetly woman's tears beguile?
Or if his anger made them slow,
Who could withold the healing smile?
Relenting, marked his daughter's woe,
And sighed, and almost wondered why,
He should have frowned upon her so.
Ah! who is he that does not know
How sweetly woman's tears beguile?
Or if his anger made them slow,
Who could withold the healing smile?
Thus did the tears of that loved maid,
Her father's anger soon subdue,
But, ere his feelings were betrayed,
Young Lawo, ent'ring, met his view:
“Vain youth,” said he, “and who are you?
“Come you to mar our evening cheer?
“Or will you join these fav'rite few?
Whence come you? and what would you here?”
Her father's anger soon subdue,
But, ere his feelings were betrayed,
Young Lawo, ent'ring, met his view:
“Vain youth,” said he, “and who are you?
“Come you to mar our evening cheer?
“Or will you join these fav'rite few?
Whence come you? and what would you here?”
11
Thus Lawo: “pr'ythee, Sir, unbend
“Thy brow, nor harbour idle fear;
“I come not here but as a friend,
“Though not to taste your evening cheer:
“I am a wand'ring mountaineer,
“Nor do I fear to own the name;
“I've left my roving tribe, and here
“Am come my promised bride to claim.
“Thy brow, nor harbour idle fear;
“I come not here but as a friend,
“Though not to taste your evening cheer:
“I am a wand'ring mountaineer,
“Nor do I fear to own the name;
Mr. Acerbi describes the Inhabitants of Lapland as consisting of two distinct classes, the Maritime Laplanders, and the Mountain Laplanders: the former have settled habitations on the sea coast, and the Mountain Tribes, like the Tartars and Arabs, are continually wandering from place to place, but generally move toward the sea in summer for the convenience of fishing.
“I've left my roving tribe, and here
“Am come my promised bride to claim.
“While the mild summer yet was young,
“When last we to the ocean strayed,
“Ere yet the summer birds had sung
“Their thrilling notes in the woodland shade,
“My wand'ring tribe awhile delayed
“Their erring course by the ocean side,
“To feed their deer upon the glade,
“And fish in the now unfrozen tide.
“When last we to the ocean strayed,
“Ere yet the summer birds had sung
“Their thrilling notes in the woodland shade,
“My wand'ring tribe awhile delayed
“Their erring course by the ocean side,
“To feed their deer upon the glade,
“And fish in the now unfrozen tide.
12
“Once as I watched the grazing herd,
“Where trees a gloomy shadow threw
“Around; as blithsome as a bird,
“I whiled my time with the sweet harpu;
“There first that maiden met my view,
“Who at thy side in anguish weeps,
“And there that passion first I knew,
“Which still my heart in thraldom keeps.
“Where trees a gloomy shadow threw
“Around; as blithsome as a bird,
“I whiled my time with the sweet harpu;
“There first that maiden met my view,
“Who at thy side in anguish weeps,
“And there that passion first I knew,
“Which still my heart in thraldom keeps.
“As graceful as the silvery cloud
“That glides upon the summer air,
“She moved, a monarch might be proud,
“The love of such a form to share;
“I marked her shape, her flowing hair,
“And eyes of bright ethereal blue,
“And Oh! I thought, a form so fair,
“The liveliest fancy never drew.
“That glides upon the summer air,
“She moved, a monarch might be proud,
“The love of such a form to share;
“I marked her shape, her flowing hair,
“And eyes of bright ethereal blue,
“And Oh! I thought, a form so fair,
“The liveliest fancy never drew.
13
“The lovely maiden went her way,
“There passed few words between us then,
“But on the next propitious day,
“Again we met within the glen,
“Again, again, and yet again
“She smiling came to meet me there:
“Oh bliss beyond the bliss of men,
“To share the smile of one so fair!
“There passed few words between us then,
“But on the next propitious day,
“Again we met within the glen,
“Again, again, and yet again
“She smiling came to meet me there:
“Oh bliss beyond the bliss of men,
“To share the smile of one so fair!
“I need not tell how warm a flame
“Her beauty kindled in my breast:
“And why was Orra much to blame
“If she a mutual love confessed?
“But see, this Cup will tell the rest,
“O'erflowing with the nuptial wine:
“Receive it—and thou mak'st me blest,
“Refuse it—misery is mine.”
“Her beauty kindled in my breast:
“And why was Orra much to blame
“If she a mutual love confessed?
“But see, this Cup will tell the rest,
“When a Laplander” says Acerbi, “has an inclination to marry a young female of his nation, he communicates his wish to his own family, who then repair in a body to the dwelling of the parents of the girl. When they are come to the door of the hut in which she lives, the principal spokesman enters first, followed by the rest of the kindred. As soon as they are come in, the Orator fills out a bumper of spirits, which he offers to the girl's father, who, if he accept of it, shews thereby that he approves of the match about to be moved for.” As Lawo goes to Orra's residence, unaccompanied by his kindred, he is represented as performing this ceremony himself.
“O'erflowing with the nuptial wine:
“Receive it—and thou mak'st me blest,
“Refuse it—misery is mine.”
14
Young Lawo watched the old man's eyes
And read his doom ere he began,
Quick from his cheek the colour flies,
And through his frame a tremour ran;
“Youth,” said the venerable man,
“I cannot take the proffered wine,—
“Thy suit alas! is vain, nor can
“The maid thou askest e're be thine,
And read his doom ere he began,
Quick from his cheek the colour flies,
And through his frame a tremour ran;
“Youth,” said the venerable man,
“I cannot take the proffered wine,—
“Thy suit alas! is vain, nor can
“The maid thou askest e're be thine,
“Though not in her esteem hast thou
“A rival—yet thou hast in mine;
“And here his tribe are sitting now,
“Rejoicing o'er th'accepted wine;
“Thick as the stars in heaven that shine,
“Are the deer his native fields display,
“And boats to glide through ocean brine,
“And sledges for the snowy way
“A rival—yet thou hast in mine;
“And here his tribe are sitting now,
“Rejoicing o'er th'accepted wine;
“Thick as the stars in heaven that shine,
“Are the deer his native fields display,
“And boats to glide through ocean brine,
“And sledges for the snowy way
15
“He hath—though these alone, 'tis true,
“Can never make us blest,” he said;
“But thou art of the wand'ring crew,
“And hast not where to lay thy head.
“Then can that tender maiden wed,
“To join thy rude and roving band,
“Perhaps to beg her daily bread,
“A vagrant in her native land?”
“Can never make us blest,” he said;
“But thou art of the wand'ring crew,
“And hast not where to lay thy head.
“Then can that tender maiden wed,
“To join thy rude and roving band,
“Perhaps to beg her daily bread,
“A vagrant in her native land?”
The crisis of his doom is past:
From his full heart he gave a sigh
As if his soul would breathe its last;
And downward turned his tearful eye;
Nor could he utter a reply,
But muttered forth a faint farewell,
And quickly turned for e'er to sly
From Orra and her native dell.
From his full heart he gave a sigh
As if his soul would breathe its last;
And downward turned his tearful eye;
Nor could he utter a reply,
But muttered forth a faint farewell,
And quickly turned for e'er to sly
From Orra and her native dell.
16
And he again has spread his sail
And, like, an eagle on the wind,
He glides along before the gale,
And leaves his Orra far behind:
But still in his perturbed mind
Her image dwells, though out of sight;
Nor can the charms of womankind
Again afford his soul delight.
And, like, an eagle on the wind,
He glides along before the gale,
And leaves his Orra far behind:
But still in his perturbed mind
Her image dwells, though out of sight;
Nor can the charms of womankind
Again afford his soul delight.
17
CANTO II.
DEVOID is he, of real tenderness,
Who, though the blessings of this world denied,—
Would wish the maid he loves to be his bride,
To pine with him in mis'ry and distress;
For she can never break the sacred tie
By which her fortune is with his entwined,
Nor leave the scene of misery, to fly
To the loved home she first for him resigned.
Who, though the blessings of this world denied,—
Would wish the maid he loves to be his bride,
To pine with him in mis'ry and distress;
For she can never break the sacred tie
By which her fortune is with his entwined,
Nor leave the scene of misery, to fly
To the loved home she first for him resigned.
18
Unhappy is the fond ingenuous heart,
That, in adversity, admires the fair,
Yet would not they his misery should share,
But loves too well, by far, to live apart:
Angelic forms he sees around him glide,
Whose smiles, alas, he cannot hope to gain,
Like Tantalus who lingered in the tide
Which he for e'er essayed to taste in vain.
That, in adversity, admires the fair,
Yet would not they his misery should share,
But loves too well, by far, to live apart:
Angelic forms he sees around him glide,
Whose smiles, alas, he cannot hope to gain,
Like Tantalus who lingered in the tide
Which he for e'er essayed to taste in vain.
'Till now, young Lawo never mourned his fate,
Though scarce a worldly blessing did he share;
But now he saw his rude and vagrant state,
The beauteous Orra was not formed to bear:
“Oh! then I ne'er will ask that hand again—
“Nor ever build my pleasure on her pain—
“Farewell,” he said, “farewell my Orra fair!”
Though scarce a worldly blessing did he share;
But now he saw his rude and vagrant state,
The beauteous Orra was not formed to bear:
“Oh! then I ne'er will ask that hand again—
“Nor ever build my pleasure on her pain—
“Farewell,” he said, “farewell my Orra fair!”
19
His Orra's name he murmured yet again:
“Farewell,” he said, and trembled as he spake,
“I ne'er will lead thy spirit into pain—
“Oh no! my aching heart shall sooner break:
“And yet, heart-rending thought! must I forsake
“A maid so heav'nly fair, a maid so true?
“Ah poverty ah Orra! yes, adieu!”
“Farewell,” he said, and trembled as he spake,
“I ne'er will lead thy spirit into pain—
“Oh no! my aching heart shall sooner break:
“And yet, heart-rending thought! must I forsake
“A maid so heav'nly fair, a maid so true?
“Ah poverty ah Orra! yes, adieu!”
Now thrice around the heav'ns the moon has rolled,
And yet he comes not to his promised bride.
“Oh, is his love,” she said, “so early cold,
“Who erst such vows of love to Orra sighed?
“And does he leave his Orra thus to weep?
“Or does—but heav'n forbid!—my lover sleep
“Beneath the billows of the ocean tide?
And yet he comes not to his promised bride.
“Oh, is his love,” she said, “so early cold,
“Who erst such vows of love to Orra sighed?
“And does he leave his Orra thus to weep?
“Or does—but heav'n forbid!—my lover sleep
“Beneath the billows of the ocean tide?
20
“He oft has told me of a little Isle
“High from the ocean, rising in the west,
“Where, in the transient summer, for a while,
“His vagrant family are wont to rest;
“And there perhaps my love is ling'ring now,
“Ling'ring alas! unmindful of his vow
“Beneath the smile of lovelier maiden blest.”
“High from the ocean, rising in the west,
“Where, in the transient summer, for a while,
“His vagrant family are wont to rest;
“And there perhaps my love is ling'ring now,
“Ling'ring alas! unmindful of his vow
“Beneath the smile of lovelier maiden blest.”
The Sun—for summer now is nearly past—
Rolls half extinguished in the northern deep,
And o'er the land a twilight shade is cast,
And singing winds around the vallies sweep;
The gloomy pine that shades the lowly shed,
In sullen murmurs waves its lofty head,
And lulls the peaceful Laplander to sleep.
Rolls half extinguished in the northern deep,
And o'er the land a twilight shade is cast,
And singing winds around the vallies sweep;
The gloomy pine that shades the lowly shed,
In sullen murmurs waves its lofty head,
And lulls the peaceful Laplander to sleep.
21
'Tis night—but darkness scarcely night resembling:
Upon the lofty hills the sun still sheds
His midnight beams, in yellow spangles trembling
Upon the snows that crown their airy heads;
And Orra now has trimmed her little bark,
And on the heaving waves of ocean dark,
Her swelling sail to midnight winds she spreads.
Upon the lofty hills the sun still sheds
His midnight beams, in yellow spangles trembling
Upon the snows that crown their airy heads;
And Orra now has trimmed her little bark,
And on the heaving waves of ocean dark,
Her swelling sail to midnight winds she spreads.
And she is gone to seek her wand'ring love—
Ah! my fair readers! be ye not inclined
The maiden's artless passion to reprove,
Nor say I make my heroine too kind,
For ye have arts—and eke I ween ye use 'em—
To hide the warmer feelings of the bosom,
And vex, with long suspense, a lover's mind.
Ah! my fair readers! be ye not inclined
The maiden's artless passion to reprove,
Nor say I make my heroine too kind,
For ye have arts—and eke I ween ye use 'em—
To hide the warmer feelings of the bosom,
And vex, with long suspense, a lover's mind.
22
But Orra loves, nor would conceal the truth,
Nor cruelly an unfelt coldness feign;
And she would share the fortune of that youth,
As now she meets the dangers of the main;
Where still to cheer her dark and wat'ry way
She sings, as on she sails this artless lay:
Oh Listen to the Lapland Maiden's strain:
Nor cruelly an unfelt coldness feign;
And she would share the fortune of that youth,
As now she meets the dangers of the main;
Where still to cheer her dark and wat'ry way
She sings, as on she sails this artless lay:
Oh Listen to the Lapland Maiden's strain:
ORRA'S SONG.
Oh many a time when tempests rose,
I've looked upon the troubled wave;
And wept as I have thought on those
Who in the ocean find their grave.
I've looked upon the troubled wave;
And wept as I have thought on those
Who in the ocean find their grave.
23
And now were Lawo at my side,
I'd sail for e'er from isle to isle,
Without a star to be our guide,
And meet the tempest with a smile.
I'd sail for e'er from isle to isle,
Without a star to be our guide,
And meet the tempest with a smile.
But may the tempest yet be still,
The sun be beaming in the sky,
And be my lover where he will,
To him I'll fly, to him I'll fly.
The sun be beaming in the sky,
And be my lover where he will,
To him I'll fly, to him I'll fly.
That I might think of him—he bound
This glitt'ring zone around my waist,
And, till my lover I have found,
It ne'er again shall be displaced.
This glitt'ring zone around my waist,
And, till my lover I have found,
It ne'er again shall be displaced.
24
The breezes failed, and Orra's sail was furled,
On the still sea the light unbroken lay,
Save when around her oar the waters curled,
Or when her boat struck up the dancing spray;
The breezes failed, and Orra's weary hand
Must fail ere she can reach the distant land
Where she a while for fav'ring winds may stay.
On the still sea the light unbroken lay,
Save when around her oar the waters curled,
Or when her boat struck up the dancing spray;
The breezes failed, and Orra's weary hand
Must fail ere she can reach the distant land
Where she a while for fav'ring winds may stay.
Huge, rising from the sea, not far away,—
And crowned with glitt'ring and eternal snows—
A rock is seen, that in the solar ray,
Far o'er the waves a gloomy shadow throws;
Its lofty head, as if rebuked by heaven,
Into a thousand shapeless peaks was riven:
Nor flow'r nor plant upon its surface grows.
And crowned with glitt'ring and eternal snows—
A rock is seen, that in the solar ray,
Far o'er the waves a gloomy shadow throws;
Its lofty head, as if rebuked by heaven,
Into a thousand shapeless peaks was riven:
Nor flow'r nor plant upon its surface grows.
25
Its northern side displays a rugged cave,
And the wild waters in the tempest, break
O'er lesser fragments now above the wave,
That to the cave an easy access make;
Here, rising from their weedy bed of green,
The sea-nymphs, though by mortals seldom seen,
Their watery locks in midnight sun-shine shake.
And the wild waters in the tempest, break
O'er lesser fragments now above the wave,
That to the cave an easy access make;
Here, rising from their weedy bed of green,
The sea-nymphs, though by mortals seldom seen,
Their watery locks in midnight sun-shine shake.
Here to the rock, her boat young Orra ties,
And gains the cavern, with as light a tread
As e'er those sea-nymphs from the ocean rise:
And there her weary form to rest is laid.
Did one so fair e'er grace a cell so rude!
Or linger in so wild a solitude!
Or slumber on so comfortless a bed!
And gains the cavern, with as light a tread
As e'er those sea-nymphs from the ocean rise:
And there her weary form to rest is laid.
Did one so fair e'er grace a cell so rude!
Or linger in so wild a solitude!
Or slumber on so comfortless a bed!
26
And softly now her snowy eyelids close,
Weighed down by slumber, o'er her bright blue eyes,
As bound beneath the cold and wintry snows,
The azure wave of ocean frozen lies:
Sleep on, sleep on, thou miserable fair,
Oh slumber on, nor wake again to share
The woes that wait thee, when thou shalt arise.
Weighed down by slumber, o'er her bright blue eyes,
As bound beneath the cold and wintry snows,
The azure wave of ocean frozen lies:
Sleep on, sleep on, thou miserable fair,
Oh slumber on, nor wake again to share
The woes that wait thee, when thou shalt arise.
Fresh blows the wind—and hissing on the main,
Like snowy serpents, curls the glittering spray,
Wrapped in sweet sleep, the beauteous maid is lain,
And smiles o'er her unconscious features play.
The heavens with gloomy clouds are overspread—
Her wandering soul, in dreams delusive led,
In sunny fields with Lawo seems to stray.
Like snowy serpents, curls the glittering spray,
Wrapped in sweet sleep, the beauteous maid is lain,
And smiles o'er her unconscious features play.
The heavens with gloomy clouds are overspread—
Her wandering soul, in dreams delusive led,
In sunny fields with Lawo seems to stray.
27
Loud raves the wind, the sky with thunder rings,
And all is dark, save where the light'ning flies
Through the white foam that angry ocean flings
Indignant to the dark and cruel skies—
From its frail mooring Orra's boat is torn,
And far away upon the waves is borne
For ever and for ever from her eyes.
And all is dark, save where the light'ning flies
Through the white foam that angry ocean flings
Indignant to the dark and cruel skies—
From its frail mooring Orra's boat is torn,
And far away upon the waves is borne
For ever and for ever from her eyes.
Waked by the wild tempestuous war around,
The Lapland maiden started from her sleep,
And pale and trembling, rising from the ground,
Looked out upon the wild and troubled deep,
There glides a gleam of light'ning through the dark;
And in its light she missed her little bark
That erst was moored to the rocky steep.
The Lapland maiden started from her sleep,
And pale and trembling, rising from the ground,
Looked out upon the wild and troubled deep,
There glides a gleam of light'ning through the dark;
And in its light she missed her little bark
That erst was moored to the rocky steep.
28
She gave one shriek, while tremblingly she laid
Upon her breaking heart, her hand so fair,
And pallid as the surf that round her played,
She senseless fell with horror and despair,
Nor can she gain her boat if she should leap
Down from the rocky height into the deep:
Oh! no! 'tis death to go, 'tis death to linger there.
Upon her breaking heart, her hand so fair,
And pallid as the surf that round her played,
She senseless fell with horror and despair,
Nor can she gain her boat if she should leap
Down from the rocky height into the deep:
Oh! no! 'tis death to go, 'tis death to linger there.
| Orra | |