 | The Sugar-Cane |  |
50
BOOK II.
52
ARGUMENT.
Subject proposed. Address to William Shenstone, Esq. Of monkeys. Of rats and other vermin. Of weeds. Of the yellow fly. Of the greasy fly. Of the blast. A hurricane described. Of calms and earthquakes. A tale.
53
Enough of culture.—A less pleasing theme,
What ills await the ripening Cane, demands
My serious numbers: these, the thoughtful Muse
Hath oft beheld, deep-pierc'd with generous woe.
For she, poor exile! boasts no waving crops;
For her no circling mules press dulcet streams;
No Negro-band huge foaming coppers skim;
Nor fermentation (wine's dread sire) for her,
With Vulcan's aid, from Cane a spirit draws,
Potent to quell the madness of despair.
Yet, oft, the range she walks, at shut of eve;
Oft sees red lightning at the midnight-hour,
When nod the watches, stream along the sky;
Not innocent, as what the learned call
The Boreal morn, which, through the azure air,
Flashes its tremulous rays, in painted streaks,
While o'er night's veil her lucid tresses flow:
Nor quits the Muse her walk, immers'd in thought,
How she the planter, haply, may advise;
Till tardy morn unbar the gates of light,
And, opening on the main with sultry beam,
To burnish'd silver turns the blue-green wave.
What ills await the ripening Cane, demands
My serious numbers: these, the thoughtful Muse
Hath oft beheld, deep-pierc'd with generous woe.
For she, poor exile! boasts no waving crops;
For her no circling mules press dulcet streams;
No Negro-band huge foaming coppers skim;
Nor fermentation (wine's dread sire) for her,
With Vulcan's aid, from Cane a spirit draws,
Potent to quell the madness of despair.
Yet, oft, the range she walks, at shut of eve;
54
When nod the watches, stream along the sky;
Not innocent, as what the learned call
The Boreal morn, which, through the azure air,
Flashes its tremulous rays, in painted streaks,
While o'er night's veil her lucid tresses flow:
Nor quits the Muse her walk, immers'd in thought,
How she the planter, haply, may advise;
Till tardy morn unbar the gates of light,
And, opening on the main with sultry beam,
To burnish'd silver turns the blue-green wave.
Say, will my Shenstone lend a patient ear,
And weep at woes unknown to Britain's Isle?
Yes, thou wilt weep; for pity chose thy breast,
With taste and science, for their soft abode:
Yes, thou wilt weep: thine own distress thou bear'st
Undaunted; but another's melts thy soul.
And weep at woes unknown to Britain's Isle?
Yes, thou wilt weep; for pity chose thy breast,
With taste and science, for their soft abode:
Yes, thou wilt weep: thine own distress thou bear'st
Undaunted; but another's melts thy soul.
“O were my pipe as soft, my dittied song”
As smooth as thine, my too too distant friend,
Shenstone; my soft pipe, and my dittied song
Should hush the hurricanes tremendous roar,
And from each evil guard the ripening Cane!
As smooth as thine, my too too distant friend,
Shenstone; my soft pipe, and my dittied song
Should hush the hurricanes tremendous roar,
And from each evil guard the ripening Cane!
55
Destructive, on the upland sugar-groves
The monkey-nation preys: from rocky heights,
In silent parties, they descend by night,
And posting watchful sentinels, to warn
When hostile steps approach; with gambols, they
Pour o'er the Cane-grove. Luckless he to whom
That land pertains! in evil hour, perhaps,
And thoughtless of to-morrow, on a die
He hazards millions; or, perhaps, reclines
On Luxury's soft lap, the pest of wealth;
And, inconsiderate, deems his Indian crops
Will amply her insatiate wants supply.
The monkey-nation preys: from rocky heights,
In silent parties, they descend by night,
And posting watchful sentinels, to warn
When hostile steps approach; with gambols, they
Pour o'er the Cane-grove. Luckless he to whom
That land pertains! in evil hour, perhaps,
And thoughtless of to-morrow, on a die
He hazards millions; or, perhaps, reclines
On Luxury's soft lap, the pest of wealth;
And, inconsiderate, deems his Indian crops
Will amply her insatiate wants supply.
From these insidious droles (peculiar pest
Of Liamuiga's hills) would'st thou defend
Thy waving wealth; in traps put not thy trust,
However baited: Treble every watch,
And well with arms provide them; faithful dogs,
Of nose sagacious, on their footsteps wait.
With these attack the predatory bands;
Quickly the unequal conflict they decline,
And, chattering, fling their ill-got spoils away.
So when, of late, innumerous Gallic hosts
Fierce, wanton, cruel, did by stealth invade
The peaceable American's domains,
While desolation mark'd their faithless rout;
No sooner Albion's martial sons advanc'd,
Than the gay dastards to their forests fled,
And left their spoils and tomahawks behind.
Of Liamuiga's hills) would'st thou defend
Thy waving wealth; in traps put not thy trust,
However baited: Treble every watch,
And well with arms provide them; faithful dogs,
Of nose sagacious, on their footsteps wait.
56
Quickly the unequal conflict they decline,
And, chattering, fling their ill-got spoils away.
So when, of late, innumerous Gallic hosts
Fierce, wanton, cruel, did by stealth invade
The peaceable American's domains,
While desolation mark'd their faithless rout;
No sooner Albion's martial sons advanc'd,
Than the gay dastards to their forests fled,
And left their spoils and tomahawks behind.
Nor with less waste the whisker'd vermine-race,
A countless clan, despoil the low-land Cane.
A countless clan, despoil the low-land Cane.
These to destroy, while commerce hoists the sail,
Loose rocks abound, or tangling bushes bloom,
What Planter knows?—Yet prudence may reduce.
Encourage then the breed of savage cats,
Nor kill the winding snake, thy foes they eat.
Thus, on the mangrove-banks of Guayaquil,
Child of the rocky desert, sea-like stream,
With studious care, the American preserves
The gallinazo, else that sea-like stream
(Whence traffic pours her bounties on mankind)
Dread alligators would alone possess.
Thy foes, the teeth-fil'd Ibbos also love;
Nor thou their wayward appetite restrain.
Loose rocks abound, or tangling bushes bloom,
What Planter knows?—Yet prudence may reduce.
Encourage then the breed of savage cats,
57
Thus, on the mangrove-banks of Guayaquil,
Child of the rocky desert, sea-like stream,
With studious care, the American preserves
The gallinazo, else that sea-like stream
(Whence traffic pours her bounties on mankind)
Dread alligators would alone possess.
Thy foes, the teeth-fil'd Ibbos also love;
Nor thou their wayward appetite restrain.
58
Some place decoys, nor will they not avail,
Replete with roasted crabs, in every grove
These fell marauders gnaw; and pay their slaves
Some small reward for every captive foe.
So practise Gallia's sons; but Britons trust
In other wiles; and surer their success.
Replete with roasted crabs, in every grove
These fell marauders gnaw; and pay their slaves
Some small reward for every captive foe.
So practise Gallia's sons; but Britons trust
In other wiles; and surer their success.
With Misnian arsenic, deleterious bane,
Pound up the ripe cassada's well-rasp'd root,
And form in pellets; these profusely spread
Round the Cane-groves, where sculk the vermin-breed:
They, greedy, and unweeting of the bait,
Crowd to the inviting cates, and swift devour
Their palatable Death; for soon they seek
The neighbouring spring; and drink, and swell, and die.
But dare not thou, if life deserve thy care,
The infected rivulet taste; nor let thy herds
Graze its polluted brinks, till rolling time
Have fin'd the water, and destroyed the bane.
'Tis safer then to mingle nightshade's juice
With flour, and throw it liberal 'mong thy Canes:
They touch not this; its deadly scent they fly,
And sudden colonize some distant vale.
Pound up the ripe cassada's well-rasp'd root,
And form in pellets; these profusely spread
Round the Cane-groves, where sculk the vermin-breed:
They, greedy, and unweeting of the bait,
Crowd to the inviting cates, and swift devour
Their palatable Death; for soon they seek
The neighbouring spring; and drink, and swell, and die.
But dare not thou, if life deserve thy care,
The infected rivulet taste; nor let thy herds
59
Have fin'd the water, and destroyed the bane.
'Tis safer then to mingle nightshade's juice
With flour, and throw it liberal 'mong thy Canes:
They touch not this; its deadly scent they fly,
And sudden colonize some distant vale.
Shall the muse deign to sing of humble weeds,
That check the progress of the imperial cane?
That check the progress of the imperial cane?
In every soil, unnumber'd weeds will spring;
Nor fewest in the best: (thus oft we find
Enormous vices taint the noblest souls!)
These let thy little gang, with skilful hand,
Oft as they spread abroad, and oft they spread;
Careful pluck up, to swell thy growing heap
Of rich manure. And yet some weeds arise,
Of aspect mean, with wondrous virtues fraught:
(And doth not oft uncommon merit dwell
In men of vulgar looks, and trivial air?)
Such, planter, be not thou asham'd to save
From foul pollution, and unseemly rot;
Much will they benefit thy house and thee.
But chief the yellow thistle thou select,
Whose seed the stomach frees from nauseous loads;
And, if the music of the mountain-dove
Delight thy pensive ear, sweet friend to thought!
This prompts their cooing, and enflames their love.
Nor let rude hands the knotted grass profane,
Whose juice worms fly: Ah, dire endemial ill!
How many fathers, fathers now no more;
How many orphans, now lament thy rage?
The cow-itch also save; but let thick gloves
Thine hands defend, or thou wilt sadly rue
Thy rash imprudence, when ten thousand darts
Sharp as the bee-sting, fasten in thy flesh,
And give thee up to torture. But, unhurt,
Planter, thou may'st the humble chickweed cull;
And that, which coyly flies the astonish'd grasp.
Not the confection nam'd from Pontus' King;
Not the bless'd apple Median climes produce,
Tho' lofty Maro (whose immortal muse
Distant I follow, and, submiss, adore)
Hath sung its properties, to counteract
Dire spells, slow-mutter'd o'er the baneful bowl,
Where cruel stepdames poisonous drugs have brewed;
Can vie with these low tenants of the vale,
In driving poisons from the infected frame:
For here, alas! (ye sons of luxury mark!)
The sea, tho' on its bosom Halcyons sleep,
Abounds with poison'd fish; whose crimson fins,
Whose eyes, whose scales, bedropt with azure, gold,
Purple, and green, in all gay Summer's pride,
Amuse the sight; whose taste the palate charms;
Yet death, in ambush, on the banquet waits,
Unless these antidotes be timely given.
But, say what strains, what numbers can recite,
Thy praises, vervain; or wild liquorice, thine?
For not the costly root, the gift of God,
Gather'd by those, who drink the Volga's wave,
(Prince of Europa's streams, itself a sea)
Equals your potency! Did planters know
But half your virtues; not the Cane itself,
Would they with greater, fonder pains preserve!
Nor fewest in the best: (thus oft we find
Enormous vices taint the noblest souls!)
These let thy little gang, with skilful hand,
Oft as they spread abroad, and oft they spread;
Careful pluck up, to swell thy growing heap
Of rich manure. And yet some weeds arise,
Of aspect mean, with wondrous virtues fraught:
(And doth not oft uncommon merit dwell
In men of vulgar looks, and trivial air?)
Such, planter, be not thou asham'd to save
60
Much will they benefit thy house and thee.
But chief the yellow thistle thou select,
Whose seed the stomach frees from nauseous loads;
And, if the music of the mountain-dove
Delight thy pensive ear, sweet friend to thought!
This prompts their cooing, and enflames their love.
Nor let rude hands the knotted grass profane,
Whose juice worms fly: Ah, dire endemial ill!
How many fathers, fathers now no more;
How many orphans, now lament thy rage?
The cow-itch also save; but let thick gloves
Thine hands defend, or thou wilt sadly rue
Thy rash imprudence, when ten thousand darts
61
And give thee up to torture. But, unhurt,
Planter, thou may'st the humble chickweed cull;
And that, which coyly flies the astonish'd grasp.
Not the confection nam'd from Pontus' King;
Not the bless'd apple Median climes produce,
62
Distant I follow, and, submiss, adore)
Hath sung its properties, to counteract
Dire spells, slow-mutter'd o'er the baneful bowl,
Where cruel stepdames poisonous drugs have brewed;
Can vie with these low tenants of the vale,
In driving poisons from the infected frame:
For here, alas! (ye sons of luxury mark!)
The sea, tho' on its bosom Halcyons sleep,
Abounds with poison'd fish; whose crimson fins,
Whose eyes, whose scales, bedropt with azure, gold,
Purple, and green, in all gay Summer's pride,
Amuse the sight; whose taste the palate charms;
Yet death, in ambush, on the banquet waits,
Unless these antidotes be timely given.
But, say what strains, what numbers can recite,
Thy praises, vervain; or wild liquorice, thine?
For not the costly root, the gift of God,
63
(Prince of Europa's streams, itself a sea)
Equals your potency! Did planters know
But half your virtues; not the Cane itself,
Would they with greater, fonder pains preserve!
Still other maladies infest the Cane,
And worse to be subdu'd. The insect-tribe
That, fluttering, spread their pinions to the sun,
Recal the muse: nor shall their many eyes,
Tho' edg'd with gold, their many-colour'd down,
From Death preserve them. In what distant clime,
In what recesses are the plunderers hatch'd?
Say, are they wafted in the living gale,
From distant islands? Thus, the locust-breed,
In winged caravans, that blot the sky,
Descend from far, and, ere bright morning dawn,
Astonish'd Afric sees her crop devour'd.
Or, doth the Cane a proper nest afford,
And food adapted to the yellow fly?—
The skill'd in Nature's mystic lore observe,
Each tree, each plant, that drinks the golden day,
Some reptile life sustains: Thus cochinille
Feeds on the Indian fig; and, should it harm
The foster plant, its worth that harm repays:
But Ye, base insects! no bright scarlet yield,
To deck the British Wolf; who now, perhaps,
(So Heaven and George ordain) in triumph mounts
Some strong-built fortress, won from haughty Gaul!
And tho' no plant such luscious nectar yields,
As yields the Cane-plant; yet, vile paricides!
Ungrateful ye! the Parent-cane destroy.
And worse to be subdu'd. The insect-tribe
That, fluttering, spread their pinions to the sun,
Recal the muse: nor shall their many eyes,
Tho' edg'd with gold, their many-colour'd down,
From Death preserve them. In what distant clime,
In what recesses are the plunderers hatch'd?
Say, are they wafted in the living gale,
From distant islands? Thus, the locust-breed,
In winged caravans, that blot the sky,
Descend from far, and, ere bright morning dawn,
Astonish'd Afric sees her crop devour'd.
Or, doth the Cane a proper nest afford,
And food adapted to the yellow fly?—
The skill'd in Nature's mystic lore observe,
Each tree, each plant, that drinks the golden day,
Some reptile life sustains: Thus cochinille
64
The foster plant, its worth that harm repays:
But Ye, base insects! no bright scarlet yield,
To deck the British Wolf; who now, perhaps,
(So Heaven and George ordain) in triumph mounts
Some strong-built fortress, won from haughty Gaul!
And tho' no plant such luscious nectar yields,
As yields the Cane-plant; yet, vile paricides!
Ungrateful ye! the Parent-cane destroy.
Muse! say, what remedy hath skill devis'd
To quell this noxious foe? Thy Blacks send forth,
A strong detachment! ere the encreasing pest
Have made too firm a lodgment; and, with care,
Wipe every tainted blade, and liberal lave
With sacred Neptune's purifying stream.
But this Augæan toil long time demands,
Which thou to more advantage may'st employ:
If vows for rain thou ever did'st prefer,
Planter, prefer them now: the rattling shower,
Pour'd down in constant streams, for days and nights,
Not only swells, with nectar sweet, thy Canes;
But, in the deluge, drowns thy plundering foe.
To quell this noxious foe? Thy Blacks send forth,
A strong detachment! ere the encreasing pest
Have made too firm a lodgment; and, with care,
Wipe every tainted blade, and liberal lave
With sacred Neptune's purifying stream.
But this Augæan toil long time demands,
Which thou to more advantage may'st employ:
If vows for rain thou ever did'st prefer,
65
Pour'd down in constant streams, for days and nights,
Not only swells, with nectar sweet, thy Canes;
But, in the deluge, drowns thy plundering foe.
When may the planter idly fold his arms,
And say, “My soul take rest?” Superior ills,
Ills which no care nor wisdom can avert,
In black succession rise. Ye men of Kent,
When nipping Eurus, with the brutal force
Of Boreas, join'd in ruffian league, assail
Your ripen'd hop-grounds; tell me what you feel,
And pity the poor planter; when the blast,
Fell plague of Heaven! perdition of the isles!
Attacks his waving gold. Tho' well-manur'd;
A richness tho' thy fields from nature boast;
Though seasons pour; this pestilence invades:
Too oft it seizes the glad infant-throng,
Nor pities their green nonage: Their broad blades
Of which the graceful wood-nymphs erst compos'd
The greenest garlands to adorn their brows,
First pallid, sickly, dry, and withered show;
Unseemly stains succeed; which, nearer viewed
By microscopic arts, small eggs appear,
Dire fraught with reptile-life; alas, too soon
They burst their filmy jail, and crawl abroad,
Bugs of uncommon shape; thrice hideous show!
Innumerous as the painted shells, that load
The wave-worn margin of the Virgin-isles!
Innumerous as the leaves the plumb-tree sheds,
When, proud of her fæcundity, she shows,
Naked, her gold fruit to the God of noon.
Remorseless to its youth; what pity, say,
Can the Cane's age expect? In vain, its pith
With juice nectarious flows; to pungent sour,
Foe to the bowels, soon its nectar turns:
Vain every joint a gemmy embryo bears,
Alternate rang'd; from these no filial young
Shall grateful spring, to bless the planter's eye.—
With bugs confederate, in destructive league,
The ants' republic joins; a villain crew,
As the waves, countless, that plough up the deep,
(Where Eurus reigns vicegerent of the sky,
Whom Rhea bore to the bright God of day)
When furious Auster dire commotions stirs:
These wind, by subtle sap, their secret way,
Pernicious pioneers! while those invest,
More firmly daring, in the face of Heaven,
And win, by regular approach, the Cane.
And say, “My soul take rest?” Superior ills,
Ills which no care nor wisdom can avert,
In black succession rise. Ye men of Kent,
When nipping Eurus, with the brutal force
Of Boreas, join'd in ruffian league, assail
Your ripen'd hop-grounds; tell me what you feel,
And pity the poor planter; when the blast,
Fell plague of Heaven! perdition of the isles!
Attacks his waving gold. Tho' well-manur'd;
A richness tho' thy fields from nature boast;
Though seasons pour; this pestilence invades:
Too oft it seizes the glad infant-throng,
Nor pities their green nonage: Their broad blades
Of which the graceful wood-nymphs erst compos'd
The greenest garlands to adorn their brows,
66
Unseemly stains succeed; which, nearer viewed
By microscopic arts, small eggs appear,
Dire fraught with reptile-life; alas, too soon
They burst their filmy jail, and crawl abroad,
Bugs of uncommon shape; thrice hideous show!
Innumerous as the painted shells, that load
The wave-worn margin of the Virgin-isles!
Innumerous as the leaves the plumb-tree sheds,
When, proud of her fæcundity, she shows,
Naked, her gold fruit to the God of noon.
Remorseless to its youth; what pity, say,
Can the Cane's age expect? In vain, its pith
With juice nectarious flows; to pungent sour,
Foe to the bowels, soon its nectar turns:
Vain every joint a gemmy embryo bears,
Alternate rang'd; from these no filial young
Shall grateful spring, to bless the planter's eye.—
With bugs confederate, in destructive league,
The ants' republic joins; a villain crew,
67
(Where Eurus reigns vicegerent of the sky,
Whom Rhea bore to the bright God of day)
When furious Auster dire commotions stirs:
These wind, by subtle sap, their secret way,
Pernicious pioneers! while those invest,
More firmly daring, in the face of Heaven,
And win, by regular approach, the Cane.
'Gainst such ferocious, such unnumber'd bands,
What arts, what arms shall sage experience use?
What arts, what arms shall sage experience use?
Some bid the planter load the favouring gale,
With pitch, and sulphur's suffocating steam:—
Useless the vapour o'er the Cane-grove flies,
In curling volumes lost; such feeble arms,
To man tho' fatal, not the blast subdue.
Others again, and better their success,
Command their slaves each tainted blade to pick
With care, and burn them in vindictive flames.
Labour immense! and yet, if small the pest;
If numerous, if industrious be thy gang;
At length, thou may'st the victory obtain.
But, if the living taint be far diffus'd,
Bootless this toil; nor will it then avail
(Tho' ashes lend their suffocating aid)
To bare the broad roots, and the mining swarms
Expose, remorseless, to the burning noon.
Ah! must then ruin desolate the plain?
Must the lost planter other climes explore?
Howe'er reluctant, let the hoe uproot
The infected Cane-piece; and, with eager flames,
The hostile myriads thou to embers turn:
Far better, thus, a mighty loss sustain,
Which happier years and prudence may retrieve;
Than risque thine all. As when an adverse storm,
Impetuous, thunders on some luckless ship,
From green St. Christopher, or Cathäy bound:
Each nautic art the reeling seamen try:
The storm redoubles: death rides every wave:
Down by the board the cracking masts they hew;
And heave their precious cargo in the main.
With pitch, and sulphur's suffocating steam:—
Useless the vapour o'er the Cane-grove flies,
In curling volumes lost; such feeble arms,
To man tho' fatal, not the blast subdue.
Others again, and better their success,
Command their slaves each tainted blade to pick
With care, and burn them in vindictive flames.
68
If numerous, if industrious be thy gang;
At length, thou may'st the victory obtain.
But, if the living taint be far diffus'd,
Bootless this toil; nor will it then avail
(Tho' ashes lend their suffocating aid)
To bare the broad roots, and the mining swarms
Expose, remorseless, to the burning noon.
Ah! must then ruin desolate the plain?
Must the lost planter other climes explore?
Howe'er reluctant, let the hoe uproot
The infected Cane-piece; and, with eager flames,
The hostile myriads thou to embers turn:
Far better, thus, a mighty loss sustain,
Which happier years and prudence may retrieve;
Than risque thine all. As when an adverse storm,
Impetuous, thunders on some luckless ship,
From green St. Christopher, or Cathäy bound:
Each nautic art the reeling seamen try:
The storm redoubles: death rides every wave:
Down by the board the cracking masts they hew;
And heave their precious cargo in the main.
69
Say, can the Muse, the pencil in her hand,
The all-wasting hurricane observant ride?
Can she, undazzled, view the lightning's glare,
That fires the welkin? Can she, unappall'd,
When all the flood-gates of the sky are ope,
The shoreless deluge stem? The Muse hath seen
The pillar'd flame, whose top hath reach'd the stars;
Seen rocky, molten fragments, slung in air
From Ætna's vext abyss; seen burning streams
Pour down its channel'd sides; tremendous scenes!—
Yet not vext Ætna's pillar'd flames, that strike
The stars; nor molten mountains hurl'd on high;
Nor ponderous rapid deluges, that burn
Its deeply-channel'd sides: cause such dismay,
Such desolation, Hurricane! as thou;
When the Almighty gives thy rage to blow,
And all the battles of thy winds engage.
The all-wasting hurricane observant ride?
Can she, undazzled, view the lightning's glare,
That fires the welkin? Can she, unappall'd,
When all the flood-gates of the sky are ope,
The shoreless deluge stem? The Muse hath seen
The pillar'd flame, whose top hath reach'd the stars;
Seen rocky, molten fragments, slung in air
From Ætna's vext abyss; seen burning streams
Pour down its channel'd sides; tremendous scenes!—
Yet not vext Ætna's pillar'd flames, that strike
The stars; nor molten mountains hurl'd on high;
Nor ponderous rapid deluges, that burn
Its deeply-channel'd sides: cause such dismay,
Such desolation, Hurricane! as thou;
When the Almighty gives thy rage to blow,
And all the battles of thy winds engage.
Soon as the Virgin's charms ingross the Sun;
And till his weaker flame the Scorpion feels;
But, chief, while Libra weighs the unsteddy year:
Planter, with mighty props thy dome support;
Each flaw repair; and well, with massy bars,
Thy doors and windows guard; securely lodge
Thy stocks and mill-points.—Then, or calms obtain;
Breathless the royal palm-tree's airiest van;
While, o'er the panting isle, the dæmon Heat
High hurls his flaming brand; vast, distant waves
The main drives furious in, and heaps the shore
With strange productions: Or, the blue serene
Assumes a louring aspect, as the clouds
Fly, wild-careering, thro' the vault of heaven;
Then transient birds, of various kinds, frequent
Each stagnant pool; some hover o'er thy roof;
Then Eurus reigns no more; but each bold wind,
By turns, usurps the empire of the air
With quick inconstancy;
Thy herds, as sapient of the coming storm,
(For beasts partake some portion of the sky,)
In troops associate; and, in cold sweats bath'd,
Wild-bellowing, eye the pole. Ye seamen, now,
Ply to the southward, if the changeful moon,
Or, in her interlunar palace hid,
Shuns night; or, full-orb'd, in Night's forehead glows:
For, see! the mists, that late involv'd the hill,
Disperse; the midday-sun looks red; strange burs
Surround the stars, which vaster fill the eye.
A horrid stench the pools, the main emits;
Fearful the genius of the forest sighs;
The mountains moan; deep groans the cavern'd cliff.
A night of vapour, closing fast around,
Snatches the golden noon.—Each wind appeas'd,
The North flies forth, and hurls the frighted air:
Not all the brazen engineries of man,
At once exploded, the wild burst surpass.
Yet thunder, yok'd with lightning and with rain,
Water with fire, increase the infernal din:
Canes, shrubs, trees, huts, are whirl'd aloft in air.—
The wind is spent; and “all the isle below
“Is hush as death.”
Soon issues forth the West, with sudden burst;
And blasts more rapid, more resistless drives:
Rushes the headlong sky; the city rocks;
The good man throws him on the trembling ground;
And dies the murderer in his inmost soul.—
Sullen the West withdraws his eager storms.—
Will not the tempest now his furies chain?
Ah, no! as when in Indian forests, wild,
Barbaric armies suddenly retire
After some furious onset, and, behind
Vast rocks and trees, their horrid forms conceal,
Brooding on slaughter, not repuls'd; for soon
Their growing yell the affrighted welkin rends,
And bloodier carnage mows th' ensanguin'd plain:
So the South, sallying from his iron caves
With mightier force, renews the aerial war;
Sleep, frighted, flies; and, see! yon lofty palm,
Fair nature's triumph, pride of Indian groves,
Cleft by the sulphurous bolt! See yonder dome,
Where grandeur with propriety combin'd,
And Theodorus with devotion dwelt;
Involv'd in smouldering flames.—From every rock,
Dashes the turbid torrent; thro' each street
A river foams, which sweeps, with untam'd might,
Men, oxen, Cane-lands to the billowy main.—
Pauses the wind.—Anon the savage East
Bids his wing'd tempests more relentless rave;
Now brighter, vaster corruscations flash;
Deepens the deluge; nearer thunders roll;
Earth trembles; ocean reels; and, in her fangs,
Grim Desolation tears the shrieking isle,
Ere rosy Morn possess the ethereal plain,
To pour on darkness the full flood of day.—
And till his weaker flame the Scorpion feels;
But, chief, while Libra weighs the unsteddy year:
Planter, with mighty props thy dome support;
Each flaw repair; and well, with massy bars,
70
Thy stocks and mill-points.—Then, or calms obtain;
Breathless the royal palm-tree's airiest van;
While, o'er the panting isle, the dæmon Heat
High hurls his flaming brand; vast, distant waves
The main drives furious in, and heaps the shore
With strange productions: Or, the blue serene
Assumes a louring aspect, as the clouds
Fly, wild-careering, thro' the vault of heaven;
Then transient birds, of various kinds, frequent
Each stagnant pool; some hover o'er thy roof;
Then Eurus reigns no more; but each bold wind,
By turns, usurps the empire of the air
With quick inconstancy;
Thy herds, as sapient of the coming storm,
(For beasts partake some portion of the sky,)
In troops associate; and, in cold sweats bath'd,
Wild-bellowing, eye the pole. Ye seamen, now,
Ply to the southward, if the changeful moon,
Or, in her interlunar palace hid,
71
For, see! the mists, that late involv'd the hill,
Disperse; the midday-sun looks red; strange burs
Surround the stars, which vaster fill the eye.
A horrid stench the pools, the main emits;
Fearful the genius of the forest sighs;
The mountains moan; deep groans the cavern'd cliff.
A night of vapour, closing fast around,
Snatches the golden noon.—Each wind appeas'd,
The North flies forth, and hurls the frighted air:
Not all the brazen engineries of man,
At once exploded, the wild burst surpass.
Yet thunder, yok'd with lightning and with rain,
Water with fire, increase the infernal din:
Canes, shrubs, trees, huts, are whirl'd aloft in air.—
The wind is spent; and “all the isle below
“Is hush as death.”
Soon issues forth the West, with sudden burst;
And blasts more rapid, more resistless drives:
72
The good man throws him on the trembling ground;
And dies the murderer in his inmost soul.—
Sullen the West withdraws his eager storms.—
Will not the tempest now his furies chain?
Ah, no! as when in Indian forests, wild,
Barbaric armies suddenly retire
After some furious onset, and, behind
Vast rocks and trees, their horrid forms conceal,
Brooding on slaughter, not repuls'd; for soon
Their growing yell the affrighted welkin rends,
And bloodier carnage mows th' ensanguin'd plain:
So the South, sallying from his iron caves
With mightier force, renews the aerial war;
Sleep, frighted, flies; and, see! yon lofty palm,
Fair nature's triumph, pride of Indian groves,
Cleft by the sulphurous bolt! See yonder dome,
Where grandeur with propriety combin'd,
And Theodorus with devotion dwelt;
Involv'd in smouldering flames.—From every rock,
Dashes the turbid torrent; thro' each street
A river foams, which sweeps, with untam'd might,
Men, oxen, Cane-lands to the billowy main.—
73
Bids his wing'd tempests more relentless rave;
Now brighter, vaster corruscations flash;
Deepens the deluge; nearer thunders roll;
Earth trembles; ocean reels; and, in her fangs,
Grim Desolation tears the shrieking isle,
Ere rosy Morn possess the ethereal plain,
To pour on darkness the full flood of day.—
Nor does the hurricane's all-wasting wrath
Alone bring ruin on its sounding wing:
Even calms are dreadful, and the fiery South
Oft reigns a tyrant in these fervid isles:
For, from its burning furnace, when it breathes,
Europe and Asia's vegetable sons,
Touch'd by its tainting vapour, shrivel'd, die.
The hardiest children of the rocks repine:
And all the upland Tropic-plants hang down
Their drooping heads; shew arid, coil'd, adust.—
The main itself seems parted into streams,
Clear as a mirror; and, with deadly scents,
Annoys the rower; who, heart-fainting, eyes
The sails hang idly, noiseless, from the mast.
Thrice hapless he, whom thus the hand of fate
Compels to risque the insufferable beam!
A fiend, the worst the angry skies ordain
To punish sinful man, shall fatal seize
His wretched life, and to the tomb consign.
Alone bring ruin on its sounding wing:
Even calms are dreadful, and the fiery South
Oft reigns a tyrant in these fervid isles:
For, from its burning furnace, when it breathes,
Europe and Asia's vegetable sons,
Touch'd by its tainting vapour, shrivel'd, die.
The hardiest children of the rocks repine:
And all the upland Tropic-plants hang down
Their drooping heads; shew arid, coil'd, adust.—
The main itself seems parted into streams,
Clear as a mirror; and, with deadly scents,
Annoys the rower; who, heart-fainting, eyes
The sails hang idly, noiseless, from the mast.
74
Compels to risque the insufferable beam!
A fiend, the worst the angry skies ordain
To punish sinful man, shall fatal seize
His wretched life, and to the tomb consign.
When such the ravage of the burning calm,
On the stout, sunny children of the hill;
What must thy Cane-lands feel? Thy late green sprouts
Nor bunch, nor joint; but, sapless, arid, pine:
Those, who have manhood reach'd, of yellow hue,
(Symptom of health and strength) soon ruddy show;
While the rich juice that circled in their veins,
Acescent, watery, poor, unwholesome tastes.
On the stout, sunny children of the hill;
What must thy Cane-lands feel? Thy late green sprouts
Nor bunch, nor joint; but, sapless, arid, pine:
Those, who have manhood reach'd, of yellow hue,
(Symptom of health and strength) soon ruddy show;
While the rich juice that circled in their veins,
Acescent, watery, poor, unwholesome tastes.
Nor only, planter, are thy Cane-groves burnt;
Thy life is threatened. Muse, the manner sing.
Thy life is threatened. Muse, the manner sing.
Then earthquakes, nature's agonizing pangs,
Oft shake the astonied isles: The solfaterre
Or sends forth thick, blue, suffocating steams;
Or shoots to temporary flame. A din,
Wild, thro' the mountain's quivering rocky caves,
Like the dread crash of tumbling planets, roars.
When tremble thus the pillars of the globe,
Like the tall coco by the fierce North blown;
Can the poor, brittle, tenements of man
Withstand the dread convulsion? Their dear homes,
(Which shaking, tottering, crashing, bursting, fall,)
The boldest fly; and, on the open plain
Appal'd, in agony the moment wait,
When, with disrupture vast, the waving earth
Shall whelm them in her sea-disgorging womb.
Oft shake the astonied isles: The solfaterre
75
Or shoots to temporary flame. A din,
Wild, thro' the mountain's quivering rocky caves,
Like the dread crash of tumbling planets, roars.
When tremble thus the pillars of the globe,
Like the tall coco by the fierce North blown;
Can the poor, brittle, tenements of man
Withstand the dread convulsion? Their dear homes,
(Which shaking, tottering, crashing, bursting, fall,)
The boldest fly; and, on the open plain
Appal'd, in agony the moment wait,
When, with disrupture vast, the waving earth
Shall whelm them in her sea-disgorging womb.
Nor less affrighted are the bestial kind.
The bold steed quivers in each panting vein,
And staggers, bath'd in deluges of sweat:
Thy lowing herds forsake their grassy food,
And send forth frighted, woful, hollow sounds:
The dog, thy trusty centinel of night,
Deserts his post assign'd; and, piteous, howls.—
Wide ocean feels:—
The mountain-waves, passing their custom'd bounds,
Make direful, loud incursions on the land,
All-overwhelming: Sudden they retreat,
With their whole troubled waters; but, anon,
Sudden return, with louder, mightier force;
(The black rocks whiten, the vext shores resound;)
And yet, more rapid, distant they retire.
Vast coruscations lighten all the sky,
With volum'd flames; while thunder's awful voice,
From forth his shrine, by night and horror girt,
Astounds the guilty, and appals the good:
For oft the best, smote by the bolt of heaven,
Wrapt in ethereal flame, forget to live:
Else, fair Theana.—Muse, her fate deplore.
The bold steed quivers in each panting vein,
And staggers, bath'd in deluges of sweat:
Thy lowing herds forsake their grassy food,
And send forth frighted, woful, hollow sounds:
The dog, thy trusty centinel of night,
Deserts his post assign'd; and, piteous, howls.—
Wide ocean feels:—
The mountain-waves, passing their custom'd bounds,
76
All-overwhelming: Sudden they retreat,
With their whole troubled waters; but, anon,
Sudden return, with louder, mightier force;
(The black rocks whiten, the vext shores resound;)
And yet, more rapid, distant they retire.
Vast coruscations lighten all the sky,
With volum'd flames; while thunder's awful voice,
From forth his shrine, by night and horror girt,
Astounds the guilty, and appals the good:
For oft the best, smote by the bolt of heaven,
Wrapt in ethereal flame, forget to live:
Else, fair Theana.—Muse, her fate deplore.
Soon as young reason dawn'd in Junio's breast,
His father sent him from these genial isles,
To where old Thames with conscious pride surveys
Green Eton, soft abode of every Muse.
Each classic beauty soon he made his own;
And soon fam'd Isis saw him woo the Nine,
On her inspiring banks: Love tun'd his song;
For fair Theana was his only theme,
Acasto's daughter, whom, in early youth,
He oft distinguish'd; and for whom he oft
Had climb'd the bending coco's airy height,
To rob it of its nectar; which the maid,
When he presented, more nectarious deem'd.—
The sweetest sappadillas oft he brought;
From him more sweet ripe sappadillas seem'd.—
Nor had long absence yet effac'd her form;
Her charms still triumph'd o'er Britannia's fair.
One morn he met her in Sheen's royal walks;
Nor knew, till then, sweet Sheen contain'd his all.
His taste mature approv'd his infant choice.
In colour, form, expression, and in grace,
She shone all perfect; while each pleasing art,
And each soft virtue that the sex adorns,
Adorn'd the woman. My imperfect strain,
Which Percy's happier pencil would demand,
Can ill describe the transports Junio felt
At this discovery: He declar'd his love;
She own'd his merit, nor refus'd his hand.
His father sent him from these genial isles,
To where old Thames with conscious pride surveys
Green Eton, soft abode of every Muse.
Each classic beauty soon he made his own;
And soon fam'd Isis saw him woo the Nine,
On her inspiring banks: Love tun'd his song;
For fair Theana was his only theme,
Acasto's daughter, whom, in early youth,
77
Had climb'd the bending coco's airy height,
To rob it of its nectar; which the maid,
78
The sweetest sappadillas oft he brought;
From him more sweet ripe sappadillas seem'd.—
Nor had long absence yet effac'd her form;
Her charms still triumph'd o'er Britannia's fair.
One morn he met her in Sheen's royal walks;
Nor knew, till then, sweet Sheen contain'd his all.
His taste mature approv'd his infant choice.
In colour, form, expression, and in grace,
She shone all perfect; while each pleasing art,
And each soft virtue that the sex adorns,
Adorn'd the woman. My imperfect strain,
Which Percy's happier pencil would demand,
Can ill describe the transports Junio felt
At this discovery: He declar'd his love;
She own'd his merit, nor refus'd his hand.
And shall not Hymen light his brightest torch,
For this delighted pair? Ah, Junio knew,
His sire detested his Theana's House!—
Thus duty, reverence, gratitude, conspir'd
To check their happy union. He resolv'd
(And many a sigh that resolution cost)
To pass the time, till death his sire remov'd,
In visiting old Europe's letter'd climes:
While she (and many a tear that parting drew)
Embark'd, reluctant, for her native isle.
For this delighted pair? Ah, Junio knew,
79
Thus duty, reverence, gratitude, conspir'd
To check their happy union. He resolv'd
(And many a sigh that resolution cost)
To pass the time, till death his sire remov'd,
In visiting old Europe's letter'd climes:
While she (and many a tear that parting drew)
Embark'd, reluctant, for her native isle.
Tho' learned, curious, and tho' nobly bent,
With each rare talent to adorn his mind,
His native land to serve; no joys he found.—
Yet sprightly Gaul; yet Belgium, Saturn's reign;
Yet Greece, of old the seat of every Muse,
Of freedom, courage; yet Ausonia's clime,
His steps explor'd; where painting, music's strains,
Where arts, where laws, (philosophy's best child),
With rival beauties, his attention claim'd.
To his just-judging, his instructed eye,
The all-perfect Medicean Venus seem'd
A perfect semblance of his Indian fair:
But, when she spoke of love, her voice surpass'd
The harmonious warblings of Italian song.
With each rare talent to adorn his mind,
His native land to serve; no joys he found.—
Yet sprightly Gaul; yet Belgium, Saturn's reign;
Yet Greece, of old the seat of every Muse,
Of freedom, courage; yet Ausonia's clime,
His steps explor'd; where painting, music's strains,
Where arts, where laws, (philosophy's best child),
With rival beauties, his attention claim'd.
To his just-judging, his instructed eye,
The all-perfect Medicean Venus seem'd
A perfect semblance of his Indian fair:
But, when she spoke of love, her voice surpass'd
The harmonious warblings of Italian song.
80
Twice one long year elaps'd, when letters came,
Which briefly told him of his father's death.
Afflicted, filial, yet to Heaven resign'd,
Soon he reach'd Albion, and as soon embark'd,
Eager to clasp the object of his love.
Which briefly told him of his father's death.
Afflicted, filial, yet to Heaven resign'd,
Soon he reach'd Albion, and as soon embark'd,
Eager to clasp the object of his love.
Blow, prosperous breezes; swiftly sail, thou Po:
Swift sail'd the Po, and happy breezes blew.
Swift sail'd the Po, and happy breezes blew.
In Biscay's stormy seas an armed ship,
Of force superiour, from loud Charente's wave
Clapt them on board. The frighted flying crew
Their colours strike; when dauntless Junio, fir'd
With noble indignation, kill'd the chief,
Who on the bloody deck dealt slaughter round.
The Gauls retreat; the Britons loud huzza;
And touch'd with shame, with emulation stung,
So plied their cannon, plied their missil fires,
That soon in air the hapless Thunderer blew.
Of force superiour, from loud Charente's wave
Clapt them on board. The frighted flying crew
Their colours strike; when dauntless Junio, fir'd
With noble indignation, kill'd the chief,
Who on the bloody deck dealt slaughter round.
The Gauls retreat; the Britons loud huzza;
And touch'd with shame, with emulation stung,
So plied their cannon, plied their missil fires,
That soon in air the hapless Thunderer blew.
Blow prosperous breezes, swiftly sail thou Po,
May no more dangerous fights retard thy way!
May no more dangerous fights retard thy way!
Soon Porto Santo's rocky heights they spy,
Like clouds dim rising in the distant sky.
Glad Eurus whistles; laugh the sportive crew;
Each sail is set to catch the favouring gale,
While on the yard-arm the harpooner sits,
Strikes the boneta, or the shark insnares.
The little nautilus with purple pride
Expands his sails, and dances o'er the waves:
Small winged fishes on the shrouds alight;
And beauteous dolphins gently played around.
81
Glad Eurus whistles; laugh the sportive crew;
Each sail is set to catch the favouring gale,
While on the yard-arm the harpooner sits,
Strikes the boneta, or the shark insnares.
The little nautilus with purple pride
Expands his sails, and dances o'er the waves:
Small winged fishes on the shrouds alight;
And beauteous dolphins gently played around.
82
Tho' faster than the Tropic-bird they flew,
Oft Junio cried, ah! when shall we see land?
Soon land they made: and now in thought he claspt
His Indian bride, and deem'd his toils o'erpaid.
Oft Junio cried, ah! when shall we see land?
Soon land they made: and now in thought he claspt
His Indian bride, and deem'd his toils o'erpaid.
She, no less amorous, every evening walk'd
On the cool margin of the purple main,
Intent her Junio's vessel to descry.
On the cool margin of the purple main,
Intent her Junio's vessel to descry.
One eve, (faint calms for many a day had rag'd,)
The winged dæmons of the tempest rose;
Thunder, and rain, and lightning's awful power.
She fled: could innocence, could beauty claim
Exemption from the grave; the æthereal Bolt,
That stretch'd her speechless, o'er her lovely head
Had innocently roll'd.
The winged dæmons of the tempest rose;
Thunder, and rain, and lightning's awful power.
She fled: could innocence, could beauty claim
Exemption from the grave; the æthereal Bolt,
That stretch'd her speechless, o'er her lovely head
Had innocently roll'd.
Mean while, impatient Junio lept ashore,
Regardless of the Dæmons of the storm.
Ah youth! what woes, too great for man to bear,
Are ready to burst on thee? Urge not so
Thy flying courser. Soon Theana's porch
Receiv'd him: at his sight, the antient slaves
Affrighted shriek, and to the chamber point:—
Confounded, yet unknowing what they meant,
He entered hasty—
Regardless of the Dæmons of the storm.
Ah youth! what woes, too great for man to bear,
Are ready to burst on thee? Urge not so
Thy flying courser. Soon Theana's porch
83
Affrighted shriek, and to the chamber point:—
Confounded, yet unknowing what they meant,
He entered hasty—
Ah! what a sight for one who lov'd so well!
All pale and cold, in every feature death,
Theana lay; and yet a glimpse of joy
Played on her face, while with faint, faultering voice,
She thus addrest the youth, whom yet she knew.
All pale and cold, in every feature death,
Theana lay; and yet a glimpse of joy
Played on her face, while with faint, faultering voice,
She thus addrest the youth, whom yet she knew.
“Welcome, my Junio, to thy native shore!
“Thy sight repays this summons of my fate:
“Live, and live happy; sometimes think of me:
“By night, by day, you still engag'd my care;
“And next to God, you now my thoughts employ:
“Accept of this—My little all I give;
“Would it were larger”—Nature could no more;
She look'd, embrac'd him, with a groan expir'd.
“Thy sight repays this summons of my fate:
“Live, and live happy; sometimes think of me:
“By night, by day, you still engag'd my care;
“And next to God, you now my thoughts employ:
“Accept of this—My little all I give;
“Would it were larger”—Nature could no more;
She look'd, embrac'd him, with a groan expir'd.
But say, what strains, what language can express
The thousand pangs, which tore the lover's breast?
Upon her breathless corse himself he threw,
And to her clay-cold lips, with trembling haste,
Ten thousand kisses gave. He strove to speak;
Nor words he found: he claspt her in his arms;
He sigh'd, he swoon'd, look'd up, and died away.
The thousand pangs, which tore the lover's breast?
Upon her breathless corse himself he threw,
And to her clay-cold lips, with trembling haste,
84
Nor words he found: he claspt her in his arms;
He sigh'd, he swoon'd, look'd up, and died away.
One grave contains this hapless, faithful pair;
And still the Cane-isles tell their matchless love!
And still the Cane-isles tell their matchless love!
The End of Book II.
| The Sugar-Cane | |