The poems and prose writings of Sumner Lincoln Fairfield ::

Armies of clouds, that with the dayspring rose,
In sable masses float and fade away;
The summer sun—Jehovah's shadow—glows
Along the shoreless verge of parting day;
And Ocean lifts his king brow to survey
The radiance heaving like his proudest swell,
And gorgeous companies in heaven delay
To drink new glory ere they haste to tell,
In Fancy's phantom realms, how Ocean's sunset fell.

340

In storm and gloom morn came, and midday hung
Like a dark dream upon the o'erburdened brain,
And the worn mind o'er its creations flung
The dreamy languor of the listless main:
But now to landsick voyagers again
Fair heaven reveals the beauty of her brow,
And, where the wing'd clouds sudden part in twain,
Like Antisana's flame o'er mounts of snow,
The evening sunbeams gush, and skies and waters glow.

Lo! where the rainbow—radiant light of love,
Arch of the Deluge—Hope's celestial bride!
Metes the wild tempest in its wrath above,
And seems o'er doubt, disaster, death, to guide
The earthsick heart beyond the scorn of pride!
On its fair height, methinks, a gleaming throng
Of cherubim repose, and seraphs glide
Amid their choirs, with hymn and matchless song,
To waft His praise who sees and shelters human wrong.

Far o'er the billowy deep the summer sun
Bursts like high heaven upon the spirit's eye,
Or newmade angel's gaze, when thought doth run
Down the bright lapses of Eternity;
Remotest ocean and unfathomed sky,
Through all their depths of voiceless mysteries,
Gleam at the glance of Being thron'd on high,
And mind is lost in what that will decrees,
Which holds its power alone in two eternities.

Bosomed on grandeur 'mid the purple host,
Soft, blue, and beautiful, the crystal heaven
Looks down like Pity on the fierce Self Lost,
And hushes hearts that long have bled and striven;
And, with a smile like that of sin forgiven,
Seems to allure the unhappy to its breast,
Where God's high messengers, at morn and even,
Come from the diamond mansions of the blest
To whisper oracles and soothe the soul to rest.

341

So through the glory and the pomp of earth,
The vain habiliments we weave in woe,
The gentle hours, that blessed our gladsome birth,
Come o'er us with a bland and budding glow.
In youth we feel, in manhood search and know;
One for enjoyment, and the other, Fame!
Oh, happier far to treasure and bestow
The diamonds of the heart, than crown a name,
And shrine a memory here, where first oblivion came.

Before the faint breeze, o'er the slumbering Deep,
The clouded ship without a sound moves on:
And now the clear horizon seems to sleep
In that soft sea of light, as on a throne,
Where all the clouds adore the triumph won,
And throng around the sun's immortal shrine:
They rise, sink, burn—and ere the crimson's gone,
The purple robes them in a garb divine,
Till dusky death hastes on, and utters “All are mine!”

Where sea and sky, like love and beauty meet,
The illumined vapour revels in the breeze;
So deep its brilliance, and its smile so sweet,
So awful in their silence, trackless seas,
With all their wild and maddening mysteries,
Methinks, I sail on that charm'd visioned wave,
The saint in Patmos saw—where deathless trees
By mirror'd waters bloom, and princedoms lave
Their wings of thousand eyes—beyond earth's dungeon grave.

And yon the shore of Paradise, the home
Of wrecked affections and unblest desires,
And hopes that fed on poison! thither come
The forms that shadowed sorrow's wasting fires,
The hearts that glowed along the thrilling wires;
And voices, wafted on the holy air,
Echo the music of archangel lyres,
And many a child of sin, in Love's high prayer,
Adores the Power benign that rescued from despair.

342

Wedded to images of lonely thought,
Linked to the dim world of past revelries,
The mind, that long unto itself hath wrought
Fairy enchantment from whate'er it sees,
Creates a shrine in every cloud that flees;
Temples and chateaux, groves and meadows bright
With violet smiles, that perfume every breeze,
And towers and palaces, in that deep light,
With the old look of pride salute the radiant sight.

And in those wing'd and wandering mansions dwell
Affections, thoughts, hopes, fears, and transports past,
The blighted love, that like Phaëton fell,
The great ambition, like a shadow cast
O'er the dead solitude of Barca's waste!
And through the blue and glorious boundlessness,
To each sweet star that visited our last
And wild farewell, our visions haste to bless
Hours happier for their doubt, and victors of distress.

Thou sacred Tempe of the wearied mind!
Hope in stern trial—home in wildest storm!
Imagination!—wing'd upon the wind,
Child of the rainbow, gifted with a charm,
That sanctifies the heart, and keeps it warm
With beautiful humanities—delay,
While years depart, and, in all trouble, form
Thine airy armies round me, though my way
Should lead o'er Hecla's fires, or orient Himmaleh!

Thou to our mood dost fashion outward things,
And all the chainless elements combine
To shed the bloom without the bitter stings,
That panoply, O Earth! each flower of thine!
Thus in blest solitude we grow divine
With a far higher nature than our own,
And follow Hope along her golden line,
While mingle smile and sigh and mirth and moan,
To that bright realm of dreams where Mercy holds her throne.

343

Thus in the solitude of Ocean, come
Thrilling revealments of a holier state,
Great thoughts that struggle for their native home,
Deep feelings tortured in the cell of fate,
Fame crushed by falsehood, love by causeless hate;
And, floating on the wave that cannot rest,
E'en Death becomes companion, courteous mate,
And friend and counsellor—and he is blest
Who o'er Life's tempest flings the rainbow of the breast.

University of Virginia Library

SUNSET AT SEA.