University of Virginia Library

SONGS OF THE SEA NYMPHS.

SONG OF THE MERMAID.

Canst thou Leander cleave the deep,
And leave a maid like me to weep?
Oh! let these bright tears call thee back,
Why wilt thou swim this dangerous track?
Thy Hero's frown thou need'st not fear,
As yet no signal's waving there,
The well known rock is wrapt in shroud,
And slumbers like some mighty cloud.
Turn gentle youth, thou art too soon,
Oh! halt thee, while the yellow moon
Shall trembling rise o'er Helle's stream,
And light thee by her silver beam.
Come love, and braid my golden hair;
For thee my snowy bosom's bare,
My thin rose lips are thine to kiss,
And thou shalt roll in seas of bliss:
These small white arms shall fold thy breast,
This lily bosom be thy rest;
On melting kisses thou shalt live,
Such as no mortal lips can give,
On sheets of foam we'll glide away,
And live in love from day to day.
Round thy bright locks no wave shall rage,
For thee the storm I will assuage,
And wrap thee in my azure vest,
And sweetly soothe thee into rest;
And lay thee gently in my halls,
Of shining crystal are the walls;
Oh! come and view the sparkling dome,
Form'd from the crusted white sea foam,
And windows of the congealed wave,
And pearly baths where sea nymphs lave,
And coral walks, and amber bowers,
Where bloom our richest ocean flowers,
That throw through waves a fragrance sweet,
Such as no howling mad winds meet,
Not Boreas with his sweeping gale,
Nor Æolus who shakes the dale,
And bids the flowery odour ride,
Like lilies on the swelling tide;
Nor Enna's painted fields of gold,
Which gloomy Dis smiled to behold;
Nor all the sweets of Asphodel,
That throw afar a graceful smell;
Nor Araby's perfumed air,
Can with our ocean sweets compare;
Their liquid leaves alone condense,
All that is pleasing to the sense;
Our groves which sprung from heavenly trees,
By us were planted in the seas,
When Neptune for the Olympian height,
To some great feast would take his flight
Then would he steal from Jove's bright bowers,
His choicest trees, and richest flowers;
And those ambrosial feasts above,
He'd quit for us, to feast on love.
To us those heav'nly flowers he gave,
Which in our ocean gardens wave;
We in return upon our breast,
Permit his glowing head to rest;
Nor dare do more, lest Amphitrite,
Should dash through waves of rolling light,
And on the amorous God alight;
If so, she would his trident seize,
Unchain the waves, let loose the breeze,
And spread confusion o'er the seas.
Come then sweet youth, and dwell with me,
Beneath the broad, blue, boundless sea;
See—where the moon thro' yon cloud rushes,
She's come to view our bridal blushes,
And when in sighs we die away,
She'll call the wand'ring stars from play,
And tell them all the charms of love;
Next night, the flaming hosts above,
Will mount their cars of shining gold,
And move in splendour to behold
Our sea green joys, and every night
Will shine upon our soft delight.
Dian may teach the tender heart,
And on some bashful pale star dart,
Then press it sighing to her heart.
Come then my love, and with delight,
We'll view the streaming hosts of light,
In melting, glowing love unite.

SONG OF THE NEREIDES.

Merrily, merrily, 'neath the waves,
That roll above the oozy caves,
Where no hoarse wind wildly raves,
Ride our uncheck'd sea born band,
Along bright plains of golden sand,
That's never touch'd by mortal hand.
Through dark green billowy fields we glide,
Where sleeps the huge mysterious tide,
Which rolls on rivers far and wide.
The broad deep ocean is our rest,
Its pearly green waves form our vest,
Which sparkling veils our snowy breast.
The rushing sword-fish is our steed,
We mount the shark in time of need,
And thro' the watery valleys speed.
Thro' hidden depths we glide along,
While sweeping wild waves seize our song,
And rugged rocks the strains prolong;
Or in the deep, we join the chase,
And through the long wide boundless space
Of broadest seas, the whale we trace;
We rouse him from his sea green lair,
Around the deep his mad eyes glare,
Then up he darts to catch the air.
Merrily, merrily, we away—
Above, below, we cleave the spray,
And through the ocean deserts stray.
We pass the dolphin rob'd in gold,
We pass the herrings' silvery fold,
And rouse the sea snake from his hold.
The shark, voracious quits the dead,
Where, on the sailor's corse he fed,
And at us lifts his wondering head.
Away—away—we ride—we fly—
To where the mighty whale doth lie,
Above our heads like some black sky.
Through the green rolling sea we steer,
Above the waves our heads we rear,
And pierce him with our silvery spear;
Then he uplifts his massive tail,
And cleaves the waves like some hoarse gale,
As tho' the clouds he would assail;
Ten thousand fathoms deep he falls,
And bounding on our coral halls,
Like thunder strikes the shining walls.
And when deep howling gales arise,
We mount the waves and view the skies,
Or listen while the sea-mew cries.
Merrily, merrily, then we ride,
From wave to wave, we leap, we glide,
Or on huge billows sit astride.
Our bright hair flutters in the breeze,
While on the foaming waves we seize,
And dash them at the clouds with ease.
When Jove's cloud rending thunder rolls,
And strikes the wide extended poles,
We catch his big round burning balls,
And fling them round from hand to hand,
Then dash them hissing on the sand,
Which covers Neptune's unknown land.
We seize the lightnings as they glance,
Where huge mad waves like mountains dance,
Rolling along the blue expanse.
We seize the forked gleaming blaze,
That flashes round its burning rays,
And on the white rocks wildly plays.
We hurl heaven's fire from wing to wing,
Form on the waves a spacious ring,
Then round and round the lightnings fling;
Flashing they stream, as cast around
From wave to wave, they fly, they bound,
Then hissing thro' the deep, resound.
We listen as the seaman calls
“All hands a-hoy,” then quickly hauls
From the tall mast his canvass walls;
Or, on the anchor we alight,
Beneath the waves from mortal sight;
They try to weigh—but vain's their might.
Or, cluster round the ship's dark prow,
Or bend her long projecting bow,
And echo back their “yeo heave ho;”
Then journeying on our sea green road,
We hasten to our bright abode,
That rises 'neath its watery load.
And when our ocean sports are up,
We with our sea god Neptune sup,
And quaff the nectar foaming cup.
We know no care, nor dream of graves,
But merrily live in coral caves,
Beneath the roar of rolling waves.

SONG OF THE SYRENS.

Oh come to our palace of sunshine and song,
Where the blue bounding billows roll gladly along!
Oh haste to our feast where the pale stars of even,
Come in their bright cars from the broad fields of heaven!
For our glad halls, the lamps of night,
Have from the broad sky ta'en their flight,
And sought our sea green jubilee,
To celebrate a victory,
Which the splendid moon obtain'd,
Over the dark, that blackly reign'd
Predominant; it was her turn,
One night in heaven to sojourn,
When a dark intruding cloud,
Threw o'er her brightness his black shroud.
See—she comes—the yellow moon,
Leaves her highest, brightest noon,
Thro' the dark green waves to glide,
She passes by her daughter tide,
And lights the hidden depths of sea,
Where she walks resplendently.
'Tis sweet to view the shining seven,
March from the splendid ranks of Heaven,
And leave the centinels of night,
To guard their queen of silver light,
Who travels thro' our ocean caves,
To illuminate the waves;
She treads the depths In shining might,
Like some glad citadel of light,
That comes on patrol from the skies,
To show the waves her glittering eyes.
Stay mortal, and I'll tell to thee,
How she obtained that victory,
Over the sullen clouds of night,
And bring it so before thy sight,
That thou shalt easily descry,
All their rage as with thine eye;
See her lustre first emerge,
How she lifts her silvery verge,
Now brightly slow, she rises higher,
While trees seem painted on pale fire;
See her rising o'er the hill,
While all beneath is dark and still,
Now she guides her shining car,
Headed by her herald star;
View her rolling in her might,
In silver mail prepared for fight.
See her starry hosts unfold
Before their Queen their arms of gold.
Now coward darkness rolls away,
Before the bride of golden day;
See him shelter on the trees,
View him mount the midnight breeze,
Now he rests behind a tower,
Now he passes by a bower,
Now he settles in the vale,
Now he hurries o'er the dale,
Now tired, he hastens o'er the plain,
And calls for aid on storms and rain;
Now the battle sternly rages,
Where the frowning squadron wages
War with heaven's beaming ranks.
Now they move, a stern phalanx
Of howling winds and gathered clouds,
Marshal'd 'neath their waving shrouds,
Moving with determined frown,
Bearing every bright star down;
Led on by one black mighty cloud,
Wreath'd with gloom and darkly brow'd,
Tenfold darkness on his breast
Appears in pitchy folds to rest:
Black banners deck his blacker hand,
His shadow hides the shrouded land;
Now on the bright moon he advances,
Now up to heaven her last ray dances,
Which faintly lit a gurgling stream,
That dimly glittered 'neath her beam;
See, she has fled before his blade,
Of blackest gloom and darkest shade;
She stoop'd beneath his raven shield,
But stoop'd to conquer, not to yield,
For as he rushed in all his might,
Upon his foe of lovely light,
Wielding his blade of massive dark,
He sprung too far and miss'd his mark.
There was a moment of black gloom,
As tho' the moon had found a tomb,
And all dark voices gladly cried
Victory! as though she'd died.
Victory! shouts the howling wind,
The owl cries Victory! from behind
An ivied tower where she stood;
Victory! shouts the gloomy wood,
Victory! the raven croaks,
The wolf cries Victory! then stalks,
Sternly to his blood dyed cave;
Victory! echoes from a grave,
Where a murderer was employed
Earthing a corse, quite overjoyed
To think his black crime was concealed,
Nor could to mortals be revealed;
When lo, a pale ray quickly play'd
In sudden gleam upon his spade;
He fell, as in a death-like swoon,
For lo, his voice new nerved the moon,
Who springing from her ambuscade,
Where for a moment she had laid,
To let that massy cloud roll by,
She on the murderer cast her eye.
She chose her time when that cloud pass'd,
Which frown'd as though 'twould frown its last;
Then on a sudden she appear'd,
And through the sable defiles steer'd,
In time before that host of clouds,
Marshal'd beneath their waving shrouds,
That came on lazily behind,
Creeping like the summer wind,
Beneath whose breath no blue wave heaves
Its sparkling head, when even leaves
Will scarcely move; so these clouds stirr'd
Like plumage of a beauteous bird,
Which slowly spreads her wings for flight;
Or like the last fond ray of light,
That lingers on the western hill,
As loath to leave a scene so still;
But when the moon unfurled her sail,
On heaven's blue fields the clouds turn'd pale,
And flew before her shining might,
And as they passed her, turned to light.
Soon from their hiding places came,
The starry ranks of shining flame,
And all were glad their Queen to see,
While heaven rung with Victory!
This anniversary we keep,
Once ev'ry year within the deep.
Come then below the waves with me,
And all the starry host you'll see,
Seated around their queen of light,
To celebrate this glorious fight.
Haste then fair youth; why this delay?
We hold our ocean sports to day.
Then come to our palace of sunshine and flowers,
And hear the wild music that floats through our bowen
Or seat thee where beauty from dancing reposes,
On sofas of amber, all veiled with roses;
Or sleep on our banks where the nectar rill gushes,
With tributes to sea-nymphs of kisses and blushes;
Or lean on the moon's azure bosom of light,
And press the rich lips of the goddess of night.
We'll show thee the bed where the gay rainbow sleeps,
And how, when she's absent, the summer sky weeps;
We'll tell how she steals from the violet and rose,
Those colours she gracefully in her arch throws.
Come then to our feast, or thou wilt be missing,
For we have young sea nymphs whose rose lips want kissing.

SCENES IN FAIRY LAND.

EXTRACTS FROM ADELAIDE AND REGINALD,

A Fairy Tale of Bosworth Field.

From Canto I.

The sun had goined the distant hill,
And shed his last red ling'ring rays,
Athwart the ruby tinted rill,
Which threw bright gems on drooping sprays.
Reapers had left the smiling plains,
Where harvest wav'd his golden head,
Bending beneath the weighty grains,
Which sighing gales profusely shed.
Lovers had left the noisy town,
And sought the hills or scented fields,
Where health smiled o'er the woodland brown,
And evening fragrant kisses yields.
Anglers had left the winding Trent,
And sought their homes—the finny realms
Ran darker, as the night-breeze bent
The lofty boughs of shady elms.
'Twas sweet to hear the village bell,
Peal slowly thro' the calm blue sky;
Or catch that sighing word,—“farewell”
Cheer'd with the kiss which echoed by.
Sweet was the sound of wimpling brooks,
Which through old narrow arches stray;
Sweet was the “caw” of wood bound rooks,
Winging thro' heaven their pathless way;
Sweetly the rural maiden's song,
Rang o'er the tranquil evening scene;
The ploughboy rolled his notes among
Those warbled by the village queen;
Sweet was their plighted vows beneath,
Some aged thorn, or spreading oak;
'Twas sweet to see the wild-flower wreath,
Twin'd round fair brows where bright eyes spoke
Sweet was the sound of lowing kine,
As slowly o'er the mead they stray,
To gain some tow'ring clumps of pine,
And wait the voice of rosy day,
Sweet flew the gale o'er corn-fields ripe,
And fann'd the cheek with scented wings,
Sweetly the blackbird's mellow pipe,
Along the drowsy woodland rings.
Sweet was the vesper linnets sung,
From flow'ry banks and shady trees;
Sweetly the drumming pinions rung,
Of hive-bound honey-laden bees.
The buzzing beetle darting by,
Shook the light dew from waving leaves;
Sweetly the merry voices fly,
Of children, toppling down the sheaves.
Sweet shone the radiant evening star,
Thro' shrouded fields of heavenly blue;
Night shook his black locks, wide and far,
The sable ringlets darkling flew,
While trees to seeming giants grew.
The nightingale, with thrilling note,
Sung night's soft hymn:—the trembling sound,
Light o'er the list'ning valleys float;
Trent lingered, with green oziers crown'd;
Sweet was her song:-dim nature smil'd
In silence to her pleasing charm;
So smiles some drowsy, well-pleased child,
Lull'd by a song, on beauty's arm.
Nought harsh annoyed the 'tentive ear,
Save the alternate tramp of steed;
Or rush of some adventurous deer,
That sought the wood with lightning speed.
A lingering group might yet be seen,
Who talk'd of war's approaching fray;
How mail-clad knights had pass'd the green,
Full speed for Bosworth Field that day.

From Canto III.

Heard ye that trumpets piercing sound?
Rang back by Richmond's answ'ring blast;
Felt ye that shock awake the ground?
When Clifton's stern troop hurried past.
What change, was by that trumpet wrought,
Revenge and uproar closely joins;
War slumbering, is a tempest fraught
With thunder—girded round his loins.
A moment since—the sun shone bright,
Reflecting shields returned the gleam;
Another moment—and for fight
The startling trump was heard to scream.
A moment since—the archer strung
His death bow for the approaching fray;
A moment more—the arrow sprung,
Whizzing—and low a warrior lay.
Brave Richard heads the fierce attack,
Dark death his sable banner bears;
Amazed, pale trembling ranks fall back,
Destruction on his blade appears.
He grasp'd his column shattering spear,
And sternly shook his shield of fire;
Blood splash'd upon his brow severe,
And clotting, stain'd his bright attire;
Death smil'd, and toss'd his banner higher.
So leaps the mountain torrent stern,
From crag to crag, from rock to rock,
Sweeping firs, oaks, beech, ash, and fern,
Adown with overwelming shock.
So rolls the thunder, bellowing deep,
Shaking earth's adamantine base;
So fire-wing'd lightnings fiercely sweep
Cloud rending turrets from their place;
So foams the sea when hoarse winds roar,
And waves at heaven their curl'd heads dash;
Loud gathering from the groaning shore,
But to return with fiercer clash.
Steed rush'd on steed—blade clash'd to blade—
Armour to armour echoing rung;
While foes on foes, were thicker laid,
And frowning brows like black clouds hung.
Darker with arrows grew the sky,
Deeper proud war steeds dash'd in blood,
Fierce flamed each warrior's haughty eye,
Where shields like blazing comets stood.
The clash of arms—the neigh of steeds—
The groans—the clamour—the stern rout—
The banner stain'd with bloody deeds—
The roar—the tramp—the charge—the shout.—
The rolling head lopp'd from its trunk,
The locks of youth with black clots gor'd,
The sever'd arm, that low had sunk,
Although in death it grasp'd the sword.
The broken bow that useless lay,
Adown the dying archer's side,
The wounded steed that sought the fray,
The wreck—the din—the crimson tide—
Appear'd as tho' the thund'rer tried
To crush all nature 'ere he died,
Shield confronts shield with mad'ning force,
Deeper was plung'd the blood dyed spear:
Fiercer was horse impell'd on horse,
How thrills the blood those sounds to hear:
“My wife”—he dies:—“my child”—ah! where:
“My soul”—“die traitor”—mingled there
'Mid sounds that came remote or near,
From beings, just merging to the sphere
Where that God dwells, all should revere!
While strength remains, few will relax
The work of death:—each brow grows black;
Plum'd helms gape 'neath the battle axe;
Deep groans return the fierce blows back.
So in a town, where storms assail,
And fierce winds lay whole fabrics low;
'Mid rush, and smoke, and piercing wail,
And blood retarded in its flow;
And dust, and crash of rattling glass,
And shrieks, and gusts, and thunder peal'd
With loudest, harshest, quickest pass,
Such was the din of Bosworth Field.

From Canto V.

From Canto VI.

From Canto VII.

THE INCANTATION.

From Canto VIII.

FRAGMENT.

NEPTUNE'S PALACE.

FROM HERO AND LEANDER.

Far in the depths of ocean's flood,
The rich domains of Neptune stood,
Rising all glorious on the sight,
Like some glad city of delight;
So splendid was that massive pile,
So wildly beautiful its style,
That you might deem before your eyes,
Had rose an ocean paradise.
Here one eternal spring was growing,
And strains of melting music flowing,
And amber rills where flowrets lave,
Their bending heads and kiss the wave
That brightly gleaming, murmurs by,
Reflecting deep its own green sky,
Here birds in flowery beds were singing,
Or thro' the groves of perfume winging,
Their waving plumage beaming bright,
Hovering o'er the gates of light,
Cleaving the air of spicy bowers,
Or wafted by the breath of flowers,
That deck the varigated knoll,
While streams of purple nectar roll,
Where young Nereides repose,
In beds where blush the crimson rose,
Engirded round with golden flowers,
With which the nymphs perfume their bowers,
That fragrant stream along the seas,
Like Eden's sweet ambrosial breeze,
Which floats along the rosy ray,
That ushers in the God of day,
When first his steeds in dew are laving,
Where purple flowers are brightly waving,
Until their crystal bells unfold,
Their mouths of pearl and eyes of gold.
Land of the sea! what climes like thine?
Where one eternal sun doth shine,
Gilding thy dazzling coral banks,
Where flowery diamonds wave in ranks,
Which bloom alone in heaven and thee,
Garden of light! land of the sea!
City of song, and birds, and smiles,
And flowers, and gems, and fragrant isles,
And gold, and light, and perfumed breeze,
And melting eyes, and streams, and trees,
And fruits, and bowers, and nectar rills,
Where singing bright birds dip their bills,
And silver tendrils deck the vine
Land of the sea! what climes like thine?
Fair mermaids sport in thy bright isles,
Lay on thy flowers and sleep in smiles,
Sounder than the blushing bride,
Who slumbers by her bridegroom's side,
And drinks the long, deep, dreamy kiss,
And rolls in seas of fancied bliss.
Deep in a gold embroidered vale,
That slop'd adown a rosy dale,
Where amaranths were in the bud,
The sea-god Neptune's palace stood;
A massive diamond, shining bright,
Replete with warmth, was sun and light,
A cloudless sun, that always shone,
And canopied the sea-god's throne;
The dazzling dome rose bright and high,
And bore the shining sea-green sky,
That here and there was silver lac'd,
A liquid heaven, firmly brac'd,
Where oft a dolphin's golden head,
Peep'd wondering from its green wave bed,
And look'd down with a curious eye,
From out its tower-borne liquid sky,
Saw steep, and spire, and minaret,
Lit by a sun that never set.
The front, like Dian's crescent bow'd,
A glittering arch, and richly glow'd
With all the rainbow's varied dye,
When bending clearest in the sky;
Save, that instead of borrow'd bright,
Each circle was a gem of light,
Of ruby, pearl, or chrysolite:
And for its arching stride was given,
Room ample as the bow of heaven,
When one foot on the mountain's plac'd,
The other in the ocean bas'd.
Three sea snakes form'd of finest gold,
That massive arch did firmly hold,
Where a long portico display'd,
Its dazzling jasper collonade,
That threw on a triumphal arch
Rich splendour, such as conquerors march
Beneath, with steeds and banners gay,
And nodding plumes in battle 'ray,
Prancing, where starry eyes are met,
All leaning from a parapet,
Waving a farewell scarf of light,
To some young gallant mail clad knight.
The winding flight that thitherward
Led on, were diamonds, bright and hard,
With rare mosaic work inlaid,
Hemm'd by a ruby balustrade,
And on the topmost golden landing,
A group in bass-relief were standing;
Of silver was that martial line,
And bore the mark of Troy divine;
Here Hector, and Ulysses there,
With Neptune as Calchas the seer,
Filling the Grecian ranks with fire;
Whose gather'd brows bespoke their ire;
They were by god-like chiefs led on,
Tydides and stern Telamon.
This led to Neptune's presence-room,
Sweet as an island of perfume;
Rich fragrant smells were wafted here,
Which breeze, or flower, or beauty bear;
Beneath that dome which lights the deep,
With its huge rocks and billows steep,
That lash the shore, or veil the skies,
The sea-god's shining throne did rise;
Cariates of topaz bright,
Upheld the canopy of light,
Their yellow garments graceful hung,
Or round their beaming waists were flung.
Above the fair Cariates,
Were festooned birds, and flowers, and bees,
Some with expanded golden plumes,
Hung o'er the censor's waving fumes,
While foliage shot around the room,
And hung luxuriant 'neath the dome,
Roses, and pinks, and lilies twining,
The gem carved grape, with tendrils shining,
As tho' they sprung from dews or showers,
So bright they shone, a sky of flowers:
While some suspended wreaths enfold,
A dolphin lamp of glittering gold,
Twice fifty such were swinging round,
By diamond chains and jaspers bound,
And when in radiance they burn,
Dazzling they gleam on vase and urn,
Of agate, beryl, gold, and amber,
Up which the fragrant sea-flowers clamber.
Along great Neptune's regal hall,
Twice forty columns rising tall,
Of rich engraven Corinth order,
All massy gold, support the border,
Of cornice, droppings, and festoon,
And carved gems, bright as the moon;
Between the space, by pillars grac'd,
Large emerald pedestals were plac'd,
Where amethyst immortals stood,
Here Dian, goddess of the wood,
There Venus, with her car and doves,
And groups of Graces, and young loves;
Here Hebe, with her cup of gold,
There thundering Jove, dread to behold,
And Mercury, with his serpent rod,
With mandates from the Olympian god,
And Pallas, with her gorgon shield,
And Ceres, guardian of the field,
And Juno, with her birds of pride,
Spreading their jewel'd plumage wide,
And all the great immortal race,
Stood by each column's shining base;
And every hand a censor holds,
Where fragrant smoke in varied folds,
Curls to the fluted pillars head,
Where gems in festoon'd foliage spread
Winding, where a fount was pouring
Its nectar bubbles, grandly towering,
Where rows of ruby columns blush,
Bearing carv'd dragons, from which gush
Deep purple streams, rich to behold,
Falling from out their mouths of gold;
The racy torrents brightly roll,
And bubble in a crystal bowl,
Which a silvery Bacchus holds,
Wreath'd around with vintage folds.
Here Neptune holds his sceptred sway,
The god which winds and waves obey.

SONG.