 | The Afternoon Landscape |  |
53
PROLOGUE.
[_]
[Recited by a young lady at the first performance of the Vassall House Dramatic Club, Cambridge, Mass., Dec. 8, 1882.]
Once swept these halls in velvet and point-lace,
Sedately welcomed many an English lord,
And met him with the snuff-box, not the sword.
A hundred years are passed. We fill the scene
With humbler graces, less chivalric mien.
Yet you may see upon our mimic stage
The show and semblance of that earlier age;
The old brocades may veil some modern form
Of living beauty and of heart still warm;
And we, the youths and maidens of to-day,
Will be your vassals if you'll like our play.
54
CORPORAL ALSTON'S DISCOURSE.
Swift shooting down that Southern river's bends,
Like logs in freshet, swept our steamers on;
Their midships lumbered up with useless bales,
Old household stuffs and huddled clothes in rags,
And sombre groups of sleeping negroes,—waifs
Just taken on board from dug-outs, timbers, rafts,
Or off the rice-fields that spread either side,
One vast green chequer-work of dyke and pool.
Here the swart mothers and their babies dozed
'Mid all their earthly goods; and here and there
A silent sentinel watched a silent form
Wrapped in a blanket, nerveless, pulseless, cold,
Nigh to a dull red smear upon the plank,
Or splintered shot-hole in our ship's stout side.
Like logs in freshet, swept our steamers on;
Their midships lumbered up with useless bales,
Old household stuffs and huddled clothes in rags,
And sombre groups of sleeping negroes,—waifs
Just taken on board from dug-outs, timbers, rafts,
Or off the rice-fields that spread either side,
One vast green chequer-work of dyke and pool.
Here the swart mothers and their babies dozed
'Mid all their earthly goods; and here and there
A silent sentinel watched a silent form
Wrapped in a blanket, nerveless, pulseless, cold,
Nigh to a dull red smear upon the plank,
Or splintered shot-hole in our ship's stout side.
But I, going past them to the forward deck,
Saw only squads of dusky soldiers, couched
Like some vast caravan, beneath the moon,
A breathing mass of black and ivory;
And o'er them all a high, shrill voice pealed forth
The burden of exhortation. I knew it well,
Old Adam Alston's voice; and thus it spoke:
Saw only squads of dusky soldiers, couched
55
A breathing mass of black and ivory;
And o'er them all a high, shrill voice pealed forth
The burden of exhortation. I knew it well,
Old Adam Alston's voice; and thus it spoke:
“When I heard de bombshell screamin' troo de woods
Like de Judgment Day, I said widin myself,
‘Suppose my head been took clean off dis night,
Dey could n't put my soul in de torments. No,
No! not perceps I hab for an enemy
De Mos' High God!’ And when de bullets come,
Ho! dem dar bullets a-swishin' across de deck,
I cried aloud, ‘Lord, help my congregation!
Boys, load and fire!’”
Like de Judgment Day, I said widin myself,
‘Suppose my head been took clean off dis night,
Dey could n't put my soul in de torments. No,
No! not perceps I hab for an enemy
De Mos' High God!’ And when de bullets come,
Ho! dem dar bullets a-swishin' across de deck,
I cried aloud, ‘Lord, help my congregation!
Boys, load and fire!’”
Then rang the strong Amens
And bursts of laughter from glad African lungs;
Then all was still but one blithe mocking-bird
High on the bank, and that strange ominous fowl
The chuck-will's-widow, and our engine's throb;
While Southern fire-flies, twice as large as ours,
Swarmed from the meadows to the tree-tops high
And hung there, clustering Pleiads, earthly stars.
And bursts of laughter from glad African lungs;
Then all was still but one blithe mocking-bird
High on the bank, and that strange ominous fowl
The chuck-will's-widow, and our engine's throb;
While Southern fire-flies, twice as large as ours,
Swarmed from the meadows to the tree-tops high
And hung there, clustering Pleiads, earthly stars.
82
DECEMBER.
The evening sky unseals its quiet fountain,
Hushing the silence to a drowsy rain;
It spreads a web of dimness o'er the plain
And round each meadow tree;
Makes this steep river-bank a dizzy mountain,
And this wide stream a sea.
Hushing the silence to a drowsy rain;
It spreads a web of dimness o'er the plain
And round each meadow tree;
Makes this steep river-bank a dizzy mountain,
And this wide stream a sea.
Stealing from upper headlands of deep mist,
The dark tide bears its icebergs ocean bound,
White shapeless voyagers, by each other kissed,
With rustling, ghostly sound;
The lingering oak-leaves sigh, the birches shiver,
Watching the wrecks of summer far and near,
Where many a dew-drop, frozen on its bier,
Drifts down the dusky river.
The dark tide bears its icebergs ocean bound,
White shapeless voyagers, by each other kissed,
With rustling, ghostly sound;
The lingering oak-leaves sigh, the birches shiver,
Watching the wrecks of summer far and near,
Where many a dew-drop, frozen on its bier,
Drifts down the dusky river.
I know thee not, thou giant elm, who towerest
With shadowy branches in the murky air;
And this familiar grove, once light and fair,
Frowns, an Enchanted Forest.
Couldst thou not choose some other night to moan,
O hollow-hooting owl?
There needs no spell from thy bewildered soul;
I'm ghost enough alone.
With shadowy branches in the murky air;
And this familiar grove, once light and fair,
Frowns, an Enchanted Forest.
83
O hollow-hooting owl?
There needs no spell from thy bewildered soul;
I'm ghost enough alone.
84
TO A YOUNG CONVERT.
Lulled by sweet words and lured by saintly charms,
I see thy weary, wandering steps begin
To enter where the Church spreads wide her arms,
Arms that have clasped their many thousands in.
I see thy weary, wandering steps begin
To enter where the Church spreads wide her arms,
Arms that have clasped their many thousands in.
From turret-windows and from high-arched door
Looks many a face of saint and martyr dear:
“Hail, Eve's lost daughter, wanderer now no more!
Earth's chill damp air shall never reach thee here!
Looks many a face of saint and martyr dear:
“Hail, Eve's lost daughter, wanderer now no more!
Earth's chill damp air shall never reach thee here!
“Here Dante, Bayard, Catherine knelt in prayer;
Come in! their great remembrance makes us strong.”
Oh, enter not! for peril haunts the air
Which even the loveliest lips have breathed too long.
Come in! their great remembrance makes us strong.”
Oh, enter not! for peril haunts the air
Which even the loveliest lips have breathed too long.
85
Come out upon the mountain tops with me!
See the glad day break o'er their spires of blue!
There lies within those cloisters' tracery
A deadlier poison than in dankest dew.
See the glad day break o'er their spires of blue!
There lies within those cloisters' tracery
A deadlier poison than in dankest dew.
The Orient sun, that in that templed span
Lit all of beauty saintliest eyes could see,
Still falls in blessing on the humblest man
Who works for freedom with a soul set free.
Lit all of beauty saintliest eyes could see,
Still falls in blessing on the humblest man
Who works for freedom with a soul set free.
In vain! thou canst not; yet thy cheeks grow pale
While thy lips smile, and rapture lights thine eyes;
The tender fascinations slow prevail,
And half thy life before the altar dies.
While thy lips smile, and rapture lights thine eyes;
The tender fascinations slow prevail,
And half thy life before the altar dies.
Will it die all? I know not. I can wait.
The free air presses round the cloister door,
And I shall listen at that stern-barred gate
To hear thy sweet voice pray for life once more.
The free air presses round the cloister door,
And I shall listen at that stern-barred gate
To hear thy sweet voice pray for life once more.
1850.
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