University of Virginia Library

Softly o'er yon far uplands blue
The solemn shades of evening steal,
Like dim still thoughts that would renew
The hopes 't was bliss in youth to feel;
And many a tall outbranching tree
Seems to repose on that pale sky,
Like hearts, from human trial free,
Upon a blest eternity!
Serene as reckless childhood's sleep,
Or souls accepted in their sorrow,
The breeze floats o'er the upper deep
Eastward to hail a fair to-morrow;
And still the hues of sunset dwell
High in the summer vault of heaven,
O'er passionate thoughts to cast a spell,
That seals all earthly wrongs forgiven.
And, oh! how blest, mid every ill,
The spirit that can gently think—
‘Ye did forsake and wrong me—still
‘Drink not the cup ye bade me drink,
‘Feel not the woes ye wrought for me,
‘Bear not the fate that I have borne!
‘But may the voice of Nature be,
(‘At glimmering eve, or glorious morn)
‘The voice that calls ye back once more
‘From the wild maze of evil past;
‘Then gaze on landscape, sea and shore,
‘And weep and be forgiven!’ The last
Of all my thoughts hath ever been
Hate or revenge, for Nature threw
O'er me in early youth serene
A heaven of thought, and, like the dew,
I could have kissed each shrub and flower,
And wept upon the fresh green earth,
Till the eternal morning hour
Bore me unto my heavenly birth.
Misfortune called my mind away
From sunny hills and wandering streams,
But yet I drank the light of day,
The morning blaze, the evening gleams,
And saw and felt that Earth was made
For happier hearts than dwell therein,
And grieved that Guilt's funereal shade
Should darken e'en the gloom of Sin.
And I was happy, though my head
Was pillowed in the poor man's shed,
For none but hearts long tried can know
What bliss may mingle with their woe.

So I went forth—the world my home—
My own unshielded destiny,
On a wide, stormy sea to roam,
And only one to care for me.
The flood grew dark—the waters wailed—
The sun went down—I stood alone,
And through the living darkness hailed
A light that bore me cheerly on,
O'er reefs and shoals, by leeward shore,
(Tempests above, and rocks beneath,)
Where stood my foes, with many an oar,
To drown my corse—and deaden death.
On—on I rushed—all sails were spread,
Though wilder grew the storm of wrath,
For still unto myself I said
‘If I must perish—Ocean hath
‘Ten thousand coral tombs prepared,
‘And all shall see, and feel, and know
‘That what I dared in death was dared,
‘And where I triumphed—there was woe!’
My barque flew fast through all that night,
But helm and cord were in my hand,
And still prevailed my guiding light
Along that dark and ruthless strand,
And oft my quickened sense could catch
The exulting cry of foes on shore,
As nearer to their demon watch
My bounding vessel madly bore.

This I have borne—and I can bear
More than the fiends of earth can do,
Nor shrink, nor faint in mute despair,
But keep the light of heaven in view;
Liars have shed their venom o'er me,
And barr'd my path and snatched my bread,
And poured their own vile blood before me,
And sworn 't was blood that I had shed;
But, till the moment they can feel
Such gentle thoughts as o'er me flow,
While I behold the shadows steal
O'er hill, and stream, and vale below,
I shall not grieve that they have cast
The world's cold nightshade o'er my heart,
For—dark howe'er the long, lone past—
My own is far the better part.