University of Virginia Library

Ocean's eternal song!
With what a deep and soothing melody
That ever changeful voice of solemn tone
Comes on the listening ear. In Fancy's dreams
When my young spirit own'd her regal sway,
Before Experience with her diamond pen
Had written Falsehood! on her magic glass,
Thus marring the rich landscapes, and bright heavens,
Which it doth shadow forth;—when life was fair,
And earth a paradise, and innocence
Inscrib'd on all around me; when all sounds
Became articulate of legends strange
Of wealth, or love, or beauty,—Then I deem'd
That there were voices blended in the swell
Of Ocean's glorious lay, to which the waves
Beat time upon the strand, and when the breeze
Slept on his bosom, breathing now and then
A balmy sigh, as if it dream'd of love.
Or when the mighty winds—the stormy winds
Dipp'd their strong pinions in the flashing flood
And shouted, and rush'd onward, fitfully
Careering in their madness; lifting up
The waters on their plumes, and marching through
Between the rolling heaps; then with a shriek
Striking the shuddering summits with their wings,
Till they were white with foam, then bound away
Chanting with wildly measur'd chorus still
Their hymn of majesty.
Oh, I have felt
My inmost spirit tremble as the voice
Of many waters wrestling with the winds,
Came up from the dark sea with many a lay
Of those who slumber in the far deep caves,
Where mysteries dwell, which eye of living man
Has never search'd, and never can explore.
'Tis agony to think how many hearts,
Torn from the golden chain that clasps around
The dear domestic altar, are cast forth
Upon the desert, where the Ocean flood
Tramps over them for ever.—
Earth to earth
Is Nature's burial law; but the deep sea,
The living shudder, as they contemplate
Its dread immensity, and fear to sleep
In its mysterious bosom. But the dead!
They go down calmly to the mermaid bowers
Of beautiful cold sea-weed; to the caves
Where lie the pearl shells; to the coral banks
Where bright finn'd tribes are sporting; to the fields
Of rank, brown grasses, where Leviathan
Gambols, and feeds at pleasure. There's no fear
In those still bosoms, when the monstrous forms
Of that dim world float past them. Not a thrill
Vibrates along the nerves, as o'er the cheek
The cold sea serpent trails his slimy form.
No eager avarice tempts the hand to clutch
The masses of pure silver, or bright gold
That pave the unspotted marble palaces;
Nor ever brightens up the leaden eye
Beneath the glorious diamond-studded arch;
Nor in the halls where sparkle every ray
Of every flashing gem, or colour'd stone;
Or where the precious shells and amber lie,
Like sand-stones on a desert valueless;
They feel no joy amid the treasuries
Of their eternal mansions; not a swell
Of pride inflates the breast, or lifts the face
In scorn of earth, and yet not unto heaven:
No awe binds down the brow in reverence
Of him who builded these stupendous domes,
And garnish'd them in glory. Those that find
Their resting places in the dungeon cells,
At the foundations of the eternal walls
That base the mighty mountains, shudder not,
Nor weep, nor clasp their hands in wild despair,
That Ocean with its everlasting bars
Encloses them for ever; shutting out
Warmth, light, and human voice. They never call
On those who walk the sunny green-rob'd earth,
Those ocean dwellers—They have no regrets
For the society of friend, or love,
Or child, or parent. Every heart is still,
And every feature calm and passionless.
Their voices never mingle in the wail
That lives along the waters.
I have deem'd
That the wild agony of the bereav'd,
Pour'd forth in broken words, and shrieks, and moans
With bitter sobbings mingled, and strange prayers,
Is living ever, o'er the liquid tomb,
A ceaseless dirge for those that sleep below.

Thus as I mus'd beneath the willow boughs
Marking how slow and gracefully they waved
Their assent, to the wooing of the winds,—
The Ocean Melody came on mine ear
Burden'd with this sad ditty.

The music with its burden died away
In long and plaintive cadence, and it seem'd
As if a whisper dwelt upon the wave,
Of some young timid spirit, whose fond hopes
The weltering waste had shrouded. Sad it seem'd
And passionate, and broken by deep sobs,
As of intensest suffering, which the breast
Lock'd as a sacred treasure, and believ'd
It would be sacrilege to speak.
But now
Another measure comes upon the wind,
Sad, sweet, and full of pathos; and the strain
Brings on its swell, this history of wo.

Wilt thou return no more? my own, my faithful-hearted,
To the dear home, where thy precious ones dwell?
We are so desolate, since thou, love, hast departed,
And left with our spirits the cold word, farewell!
A long farewell—
Thou wert too excellent, my early friend, and lover,
How my heart priz'd thee no language can tell;
Oh, sweet was our communion, love, but now its joys are over,
Blighted, and crush'd by that cold word, farewell!
A long farewell!
Thy first holy kiss, love, I priz'd, a sacred treasure,
That on my young lip should in sanctity dwell;
Thy last kiss, our parting kiss, seal'd up the fount of pleasure,
And wrote on its margin, the cold word, farewell!
A long farewell.
Thy place is vacant now; thy home is void of gladness,
Tears in our eyes, at thy name ever swell;
Our hearts are encircled by the heavy chain of sadness,
Clasp'd with the adamant cold word, farewell!
A long farewell.
I garnish'd forth thy home, with all thy favourite flowers,
And treasur'd, whatever I knew pleas'd thee well;
'Twas bliss to anticipate the rapture of the hours,
When joy-beams should banish the cold word, farewell;
A long farewell.
I saw the welcome ship, with glad white sails returning,
And every pulse throbb'd, with a wild trembling swell;
But to my bursting heart, with fond emotion burning,
She brought not my love, but his death-cold farewell;
A long farewell.
Thou wilt return no more! Thy home is 'neath the billow
That rings on the dark reef, thine unceasing knell!
While I lament in widowhood, upon my lonely pillow,
With spirit pierc'd through, by that cold word farewell.
Thy last farewell.

Farewell! farewell! dwelt long upon the wave,
And died like broken-weeping on the shore.
Then came another melody, and thus
It told its tale of sadness.—

Hark! a full chorus from the mighty deep
Drowns every mournful plaint, and loud, and high,
Peals forth its solemn anthem.