 | Judith, Esther, and other poems |  |
On visiting, after an interval of nine years, the beautiful beach which skirts the village of Chelsea.
Fair was the lengthened beach, its wonted roar,
So faint the billows beat the sandy shore,
Was now a solemn murmur wild and deep,
Low mingling with the winds that o'er its surface sweep.
A cool and cloudless sky, of lightest hue,
Dyed the deep bosomed ocean with its blue.
The azure sands, moulded by recent storm,
Of curling billows yet retained the form,
And sparkling in the setting sun-beams wide
Seemed like a mass of waters petrified.
Save where the sea-bird silent sought her food
And snowy shells the fair expanse bestrewed,
Sands, waves, and sky, which only bound the view
Shone one wide waste sublime of beauteous blue.
So faint the billows beat the sandy shore,
Was now a solemn murmur wild and deep,
Low mingling with the winds that o'er its surface sweep.
A cool and cloudless sky, of lightest hue,
Dyed the deep bosomed ocean with its blue.
The azure sands, moulded by recent storm,
Of curling billows yet retained the form,
And sparkling in the setting sun-beams wide
Seemed like a mass of waters petrified.
Save where the sea-bird silent sought her food
And snowy shells the fair expanse bestrewed,
Sands, waves, and sky, which only bound the view
Shone one wide waste sublime of beauteous blue.
52
My ardent boy drew closer to my side,
And the wild scene, with fearful pleasure eyed;
The pupil spread, the open lip, confest
The feelings new that swelled his infant breast,
“Look! mother, look! 'tis deeper than the sky!”
Th' expanding soul spoke in that eager cry.
'Twas thus I gazed ere childhood yet had past,
When o'er the noble walk I wandered last.
Wandered, L*******, ever loved, with thee,
I thought, and memory gave thee back to me,
Thou cam'st embodied from her deep recess
In all thy melancholy loveliness.
In loveliness—why didst thou die unknown—
Whose native loveliness had graced a throne?
In loveliness conspicuous while thy breath
Struggled to leave thee—lovely ev'n in death.
Oh! how I looked upon that dark blue eye
Which still retained its speaking energy!
Thy parted hair was damp with chilly dew
And every moan thou utteredst fainter grew.
One beauteous hand upon that gentle breast,
Purpled by death, the folded covering prest,
Till softly clasping both, thou raisedst thy head,
It fell—the spirit had forever fled.
And the wild scene, with fearful pleasure eyed;
The pupil spread, the open lip, confest
The feelings new that swelled his infant breast,
“Look! mother, look! 'tis deeper than the sky!”
Th' expanding soul spoke in that eager cry.
'Twas thus I gazed ere childhood yet had past,
When o'er the noble walk I wandered last.
Wandered, L*******, ever loved, with thee,
I thought, and memory gave thee back to me,
Thou cam'st embodied from her deep recess
In all thy melancholy loveliness.
In loveliness—why didst thou die unknown—
Whose native loveliness had graced a throne?
In loveliness conspicuous while thy breath
Struggled to leave thee—lovely ev'n in death.
Oh! how I looked upon that dark blue eye
Which still retained its speaking energy!
Thy parted hair was damp with chilly dew
And every moan thou utteredst fainter grew.
One beauteous hand upon that gentle breast,
Purpled by death, the folded covering prest,
Till softly clasping both, thou raisedst thy head,
It fell—the spirit had forever fled.
Oh! 'twas a day of terror and of tears
That saw thee blighted in thy blooming years!
A day that oped eternity to thee,
A day that fixt my earthly destiny,
A day that gave me evermore to prove
If I with gratitude repaid thy love.—
Yes, thou didst love me! in my infancy;
How often have I sat upon thy knee;
And while with gentle hand thou smooth'dst my hair,
Caught from thy lips the sweetly warbled air.
And when perchance, for childish foible chid,
Upon thy lap my tearful face I hid,
Thy tender arms the sad offender prest,
And let me sob upon thy virgin breast.
And oft companion of thy morning's walk,
I saw thee rob the rose's mossy stalk,
And proudly pluckt, and in thy basket threw,
When drooped the branch or low the blossoms grew:
And thou wouldst oft pursue the murmuring bee,
And rifle all her burthening sweets for me.
And still in years of riper childhood kind,
Thou prais'dst the feeble efforts of my mind;
And strove whene'er I read to give the tone,
And modulate my accents to thine own.
What taught thy lovely lips to breath, so well,
So plaintively the tender moving tale?—
The tear that when thou mused'st would sometimes start
Betrayed, a sadness lurking at the heart.
But all was silenced by thy funeral knell—
Never to be forgot,—farewell—farewell.
That saw thee blighted in thy blooming years!
A day that oped eternity to thee,
53
A day that gave me evermore to prove
If I with gratitude repaid thy love.—
Yes, thou didst love me! in my infancy;
How often have I sat upon thy knee;
And while with gentle hand thou smooth'dst my hair,
Caught from thy lips the sweetly warbled air.
And when perchance, for childish foible chid,
Upon thy lap my tearful face I hid,
Thy tender arms the sad offender prest,
And let me sob upon thy virgin breast.
And oft companion of thy morning's walk,
I saw thee rob the rose's mossy stalk,
And proudly pluckt, and in thy basket threw,
When drooped the branch or low the blossoms grew:
And thou wouldst oft pursue the murmuring bee,
And rifle all her burthening sweets for me.
And still in years of riper childhood kind,
Thou prais'dst the feeble efforts of my mind;
And strove whene'er I read to give the tone,
And modulate my accents to thine own.
What taught thy lovely lips to breath, so well,
So plaintively the tender moving tale?—
The tear that when thou mused'st would sometimes start
Betrayed, a sadness lurking at the heart.
But all was silenced by thy funeral knell—
Never to be forgot,—farewell—farewell.
| Judith, Esther, and other poems | |