University of Virginia Library

CANTO II.

Fresh from the roaring of the darksome wind,
Peace for a moment, draw thy mantle round,
Hushing disordered Nature; while rapid
Humanity and Love disperse their beams,
To light the houseless exile to my home,
Before the Hurricane confirm his waste.
Brothers in Vengeance! For one moment's pause
I yield you Nature till the golden morn,
And claim from none, to stay your shivering hand!
While yet o'er all the solemn stillness reigned,
Instant relief, in all directions sent,
The nearest wanderers found, and safely housed.
The moral victims whom the gale destroyed,
And her preserved with life to Bliss I sing—
If not with metral pomp on harp sublime,
Yet to the youthful heart and virgin's ear.
'Twas where the sound of guns had marked a wreck,
My own selected path I took, in search
Of objects breathing from the Eastern storm.
Wild and tremendous was the nightly sky:
The clouds involved in vast confusion, deep
And ripening still for action, ascended
Swiftly from the South and West. Exhausted
To the East they thinned, and nearly oped there
The lowering sky; where, dimly seen, one star
Glimmered on night's dull brow, and then was hid.
Pale twilight from the shrouded moon discovered
Shattered Nature; and, as we neared the dreadful
Sounding ocean, large torches held aloft
Gleamed fearful on the loud tempestuous waste.
Ocean, why in darkness hid, sounds so deep
Your midnight roar? Clouds, enclosing warring
Winds, why so solemn flit ye o'er? Tell me
All your mighty ravage! Hear I not some
Female shriek now faintly sighing on the
Wings of night? Straightly appeared a gleam of
White before us. Advancing quickly forward,
We saw, on near approach, the tattered sail
Of a ship driven by billows over shelves
Of rocks, high up the creek, and lodged on shore.
Around, no form of life was seen. 'Twas ravage.
No hand remained. The Tempest was her pilot,
And the mighty arm, that winged the ruin.
Hung o'er the side, female attire we found
In shreds; it's owner sought in vain, was lost.
Within with speed through every hold we search,
And cabin. The first were empty. The last
Repaid my zeal; for here I found, softly
Reclining on a leeward couch a form
Divine. Waked by the noise and lights, her eyes,
As on I came, returned the beams of mine.
With hurried speed she said
Elmira.
Where is my mother?
And the captain? How glad I am, that they
Directed you to me!

I.
'Twas no direction
But our own. Come quick thou mildly-beaming
Angel-form with me—The moments stay not—
And I'll lead thee into peace and safety.

Elmira.
Where is my mother gone? And are we yet
In England?

I
No: with truest Friends you are.

I placed Her in an idle hammaque near,
Which, held by Negroes, bore her gently on.
And as we went, I aimed, with tenderest talk
To cheer the droopy maid; who, not reluctant
Seemed, to solace: for to Sea unused, young
And innocent, she knew not the dangers
She had passed; but hearing English spoke, and
Dreaming nought of strangers, having sunk to sleep
Among accustomed friends, supposed herself
Still known. Simply eloquent, she told me,
How they disturbed her with their noise on board;
How, being still at length, she hugged her couch,
Rocked by the winds and seas to dead repose,
Till thence awoke by me. So infant spirits,
Who wing their animating flight of Death
In pleasing slumbers from their mother's arms,
Alight unknowing on celestial ground:
Then press with firmy step the flowery path,
Nor dream of serpents they have never known;
Embrace with smiles their first angelic Friend,
And ope the little treasure of their hearts:
Thus sweet Elmira told her gentle tale,
And lit each generous ardour in my breast.
At home arrived and entering at the East—
For now all entrance from the West was barred—
She looked and asked—
Elmira.
Where is my mother's room?
Or where is she? I want to sleep again:
For you removed me when but half awake.
What is this country?

I.
A country tis, where—
Daughters and mothers seldom live together.

Elmira.
Why not?

I.
They cannot. Young with young, and old
With old together dwell, where you are now.
Your mother fully welcomed just is gone
Where you can never follow. The distance
Is but small; yet bad the road, and water
Lies between you. She begs you here to rest,
Till, with a few days use, you like the place.
You will command whatever you may see,
And all this house is your's. All varied pleasure
Shall attend the varied day. The morning
Breeze luxuriant shall be your's in this saloon,
Or in the Orange and Acacia shade;
Where flower or fruit alike regale your taste.
For you shall noon pour tranquil splendour wide,
Not unaired, nor void of rich aroma;
For shrubs that love to drink his ray and live,
Will skreen it from Elmira. The purple
Sorrel-Nectar high, or milk of Cocoa Nut
You then shall drain; and in its sportive shade
Hearken the breeze race on it's rising stem.
Evening shall bear us to the Thicket Shade:
Or else, at large, we'll catch the rambling air;
And when we see the peaceful breast of ocean
Just rippled over with the wildring breeze,
We'll then descend the beach; and, pleased, inhale
The freshest breath of genial air that blows;
Or snuff the showers collecting in the East
To cool the atmosphere and green the earth.

Elmira.
But, will my mother never come? I long
To tell her of those pleasant things.

I.
Better
Enjoy them first and know them true yourself.
Then, sweet companions of your sex and age
Will join your walk and mix their joys with your's;
With equal transport catch the lively glow
From Nature's face, and beam it in their eyes;
While with extatic smiles you hail the scene,
And eager tell, what various pleasures swell.

Elmira.
Will none else be with us?

I.
I when you please,
Will join my sweet Elmira and her Friends.

Elmira.
I shall always please.

Safely lodged at home,
And all secured against the wind stern rising,
I pressed refreshment on my travelled guest,
Who well enjoyed the delicate repast
Of viands flavoured new and cooling drinks.
Full easily she believed herself brought
By design to this so happy spot: and sure
She deemed aright—It was her God's design:
Only she thought from God and not from man.
Think still, sweet maid, the same! No reasoner
Shall e'er disturb thy God's domain in thee!
Still from the same pure fountain thou shalt drink!
Still, in the Light Divine shalt thou see light.
Meanwhile the Tempest turned has rouzed his rage,
And blows on Europe unrelenting fury:
The rain, in spreading sheets, comes whelming down
And forms a flood. Nor man, nor beast, nor house
Unfounded on a rock, sustained the assault
Of winds and rain: The lightnings flamed, and roared
The thunder in tremendous vollies deep:
Now all the soul of Hurricane was poured,
Infuriate raging with the waste of sea.
Through earth or ocean God's own hand upreared
Quickly destroyed all the destructible:
Well sheltered on the West, we felt it less,
But heard it more. The hard rain loud battering
The shingled roof surprized my lovely guest;
Who doubted if she were not still afloat:
But soon assured and soon resigned to Peace,
For her's was bliss innate and incorrupt,
And eager on her novel hopes of life,
She softly sank to beatific sleep.
With rising morn the wind subsides: The clouds
Fly lighter and to higher air sublime,
Discharged of all their weight. The Eastern breeze
Resumed is balmy; and Creation lives.
The Wreck we next examine: There, nor man,
Nor boat is found: A mile to leeward shews
The wreck of both: A Female washed on shore
Proclaims Elmira's mother. But from her
The tragic fact is hid.
She broods no tempest
Who conceals no guilt. No mean lust of gain
Propelled Elmira; nor guilt-infected hopes
Taught her the fear of ill, or yet, to fly
To man for safety, which Deity would not
Grant, nor her own breast could claim.
The Sailors hoped
To fetch the quiet creek in boats; and haste
Could not await ELMIRA; nor would fear
Surcharge their yawl; nor their trust in human
Aids permit to take a poor helpless hand:—
Yet, alone, would Innocence have saved them!
The female age matured and wise, her child's
Guardian, hung for life on men! While she prayed
That they would save her daughter's life and her's,
A sweeping billow bore her to the deep.
Shortly awake, Elmira joined me soon,
Treading with cheerful step and unrestrained
The stately portico. 'Twas all enchantment
To her soul. The sun burst brilliant forth and
Welcomed her: All the Isle, the conquered ocean,
Lay before her: Smaller Isles attract her:
Unknown Diversities of Landscape strike:
The distant Hills cite curiosity:
Her God is in her heart in Love and Bliss;
And through the Isle and air she lives.