Minor Poems, including Napoleon :: :: University of Virginia Library

But o'er the hush'd and slumb'ring deep
The mists of evening flung their screen;
Though still glanc'd forth, upon thy steep,
Its white alcoves, and foliage green.

209

IV

Thy lofty beacon's dazzling light
Shot forth its guiding beams afar,
To bless the home-bound seaman's sight,
Who hail'd it as his polar star.

V

Yet though no lovelier, calmer hour
Could meet the poet's thoughtful eye,
He had but half confess'd its power,
Unless some kindred soul were nigh.

VI

But he who stood beside me there,
To view the tower, the cliff, the main,
Not only could the present share;
He felt the past revive again.

VII

Yes; thou, my lost, lamented friend!
Living belov'd, and dead rever'd,
To such a scene and hour couldst lend
The mental charm which both endear'd.

210

VIII

Thou hadst from youth to manhood been
A wand'rer o'er the boundless sea;
Its features, stormy or serene,
Recall'd departed hours to thee.

IX

And though revolving years had sped,
Since last was brav'd its billowy foam,
Yet thou the beetling cliff wouldst tread,
Like one who there was most at home.

X

Now Memory paints thy thoughtful pause,
Each look, each word I yet retain,
All, all express'd what ample cause
Thou hadst to know this spot again.

XI

It was thy earliest anchoring-place,
In thy first voyage o'er the deep;
Thy active mind could here retrace
Feelings and thoughts long lull'd to sleep.

211

XII

For then thy boyish dreams were not
To their new element subdued;
And home-sick thoughts, friends unforgot,
At times would pensively intrude.

XIII

When anchor'd off this lovely shore,
Past every danger, every fear;
Land never look'd so sweet before,
Home never felt so truly dear.

XIV

Peace to thy memory! Scenes less fair,
If visited with one like thee,
Fond recollections oft would share,
And present to my fancy be.

XV

But Lowestoft's beacon-crested steep,
Its hanging gardens, smiling yet,
When silv'ry mist-wreaths veil the deep,
Are far too lovely to forget.

212

XVI

Hadst thou not shar'd the bliss they gave,
They must have been admired by one
Who looks on ocean's foamy wave,
Earth's shrubby slopes, as I have done.

XVII

Now they are more; for Memory's spell
Has so connected them with thee,
That, while upon their charms I dwell,
Thou seem'st to live again for me!