 | Poems |  |
177
THE PADLOCKED LADY.
A VISION.
Hence the world!—and sleep my muse!
So will I stroll, where'er I choose;
Roll in my chariot o'er the seas;
Or ride a broomstick, if I please;
Breakfast with gods, and take my dinner
With any saint, or any sinner;
And sup at eve, to kill the spleen,
With Mab, my little fairy-queen.
So will I stroll, where'er I choose;
Roll in my chariot o'er the seas;
Or ride a broomstick, if I please;
Breakfast with gods, and take my dinner
With any saint, or any sinner;
And sup at eve, to kill the spleen,
With Mab, my little fairy-queen.
'Tis done;—and sleep has bound my eyes;
—'Tis done; and now the vision flies:
For, 'tis not given me to be long,
To speak the myst'ries of my song.
Listen ye young, and listen old,
And try the vision to unfold.
—'Tis done; and now the vision flies:
For, 'tis not given me to be long,
To speak the myst'ries of my song.
Listen ye young, and listen old,
And try the vision to unfold.
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Far I travelled to the East,
And far I travelled to the West;
I pinch'd the North-Bear's frozen tail;
And Southward, Southward, now I sail.
As late I wander far, and far,
To watch the rising ev'ning-star;
And, heedless of the lapse of time,
Muse, as I go, the mystic rhyme,
From human footsteps far I stray,
Thro' deep long labyrinths of way;
Till now, from mazes round and round,
My feet have reach'd their utmost bound:
For, on the lonely rocky shore,
I hear the ocean's thund'ring roar.
And far I travelled to the West;
I pinch'd the North-Bear's frozen tail;
And Southward, Southward, now I sail.
As late I wander far, and far,
To watch the rising ev'ning-star;
And, heedless of the lapse of time,
Muse, as I go, the mystic rhyme,
From human footsteps far I stray,
Thro' deep long labyrinths of way;
Till now, from mazes round and round,
My feet have reach'd their utmost bound:
For, on the lonely rocky shore,
I hear the ocean's thund'ring roar.
Above my head huge mountains rise,
That seem to lift a weight of skies
Where, lost in the mysterious height,
The garish eagle wires his flight.
Ah! vain it were to track the wind,
As, backward now the path to find!
And forward nothing can I view,
But boundless seas, and skies of blue.
And who will guide my doubtful feet?
Oh! might I some kind genius meet!
For lonely, ah! lonely, here I stray,
Pilgrim benighted on my way.
That seem to lift a weight of skies
Where, lost in the mysterious height,
The garish eagle wires his flight.
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As, backward now the path to find!
And forward nothing can I view,
But boundless seas, and skies of blue.
And who will guide my doubtful feet?
Oh! might I some kind genius meet!
For lonely, ah! lonely, here I stray,
Pilgrim benighted on my way.
“Behold me, on your call attend—
“Pilgrim! Behold your guide and friend.”
“Pilgrim! Behold your guide and friend.”
I look—and, wondering, I behold
Near me a Form erect, but old.
White was his beard, as virgin-snows,
And a white garment downward flows.
Still on his cheek the rose was spread;
And his blue eyes a lustre shed.
For, though in years he seem'd a Sage,
His was the reverend charm of age.
“Pilgrim bewildered, I would know,
“What is the course thy feet would go?
“But, ere my hand direct the way,
“Say, pilgrim, whence thy footsteps stray?”
Near me a Form erect, but old.
White was his beard, as virgin-snows,
And a white garment downward flows.
Still on his cheek the rose was spread;
And his blue eyes a lustre shed.
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His was the reverend charm of age.
“Pilgrim bewildered, I would know,
“What is the course thy feet would go?
“But, ere my hand direct the way,
“Say, pilgrim, whence thy footsteps stray?”
As late enwrapt in sleep I lay,
While still smil'd out the face of day,
I saw a Form, as seraph bright,
Descend from realms of heavenly light.
Her wings, wide-waving, brightly shone,
Resplendent as an eastern sun.
Her locks of gold stream loose behind,
Disporting in the frolic wind.
The rosy cheek, the eye of fire,
The gay luxuriance of attire,
Her movements, negligently gay,
Distinctly to my gaze display,
Far, far beyond the reach of art,
All, that can win upon the heart.
My heart is won, and now I rove,
If I may see the form I love.
My heart is won, and yet my heart
Feels nought of love, except the smart.
For ne'er, methought, these eyes shall see,
A being heavenly-fair as she.
Still while I press, her image flies,
And in my void embraces dies;
A restless lover, still I stray,
Flitting, and urging life away.
I seek what never may be found;
And I have sought the world around.
While still smil'd out the face of day,
I saw a Form, as seraph bright,
Descend from realms of heavenly light.
Her wings, wide-waving, brightly shone,
Resplendent as an eastern sun.
Her locks of gold stream loose behind,
Disporting in the frolic wind.
The rosy cheek, the eye of fire,
The gay luxuriance of attire,
Her movements, negligently gay,
Distinctly to my gaze display,
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All, that can win upon the heart.
My heart is won, and now I rove,
If I may see the form I love.
My heart is won, and yet my heart
Feels nought of love, except the smart.
For ne'er, methought, these eyes shall see,
A being heavenly-fair as she.
Still while I press, her image flies,
And in my void embraces dies;
A restless lover, still I stray,
Flitting, and urging life away.
I seek what never may be found;
And I have sought the world around.
Swift as the wing of morning-light,
Downward I first direct my flight.
Nile, Egypt's pride, in current strong,
Rolls the salubrious stream along.
And now, I range at large the shores
Thro' all the motley tribes of Moors;
Nations and kingdoms far and wide,
As still my strong affections guide;
This all my wish, and all my prayer,
“Oh! might I find this heavenly fair!”
Downward I first direct my flight.
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Rolls the salubrious stream along.
And now, I range at large the shores
Thro' all the motley tribes of Moors;
Nations and kingdoms far and wide,
As still my strong affections guide;
This all my wish, and all my prayer,
“Oh! might I find this heavenly fair!”
Lo! backward then I urge my course,
And track the Nile's prolific source.
Till, quick as thought, I traverse o'er
The desert plain, the mountain hoar;
Tracts immense of blasted land,
Boggy wastes, and scorching sand,
Where never rain descends in showers,
Nor zephyr lingers in the bowers:
No fruit, no herb, no flowers appear;—
One burning summer binds the year.
I hear the Lybian lion roar;
I pass the tiger, gorg'd with gore.
The sullen bear beside me prowls,
And the grim wolf, as famish'd, howls.
—Bold is my heart, my spirits gay,
I heed no troublers of the way.
Thus thro' all Afric's realms I go,
Still anxious thro' those realms to know,
—'Tis all my wish, 'tis all my pray'r,—
If here might dwell this heav'nly fair.
And track the Nile's prolific source.
Till, quick as thought, I traverse o'er
The desert plain, the mountain hoar;
Tracts immense of blasted land,
Boggy wastes, and scorching sand,
Where never rain descends in showers,
Nor zephyr lingers in the bowers:
No fruit, no herb, no flowers appear;—
One burning summer binds the year.
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I pass the tiger, gorg'd with gore.
The sullen bear beside me prowls,
And the grim wolf, as famish'd, howls.
—Bold is my heart, my spirits gay,
I heed no troublers of the way.
Thus thro' all Afric's realms I go,
Still anxious thro' those realms to know,
—'Tis all my wish, 'tis all my pray'r,—
If here might dwell this heav'nly fair.
They bring a dame, “and this is she,
“Beauteous and wife, and great and free.”
“Azza her name, I wear her chain,
“And far and wide is Azza's reign.”
“Beauteous and wife, and great and free.”
“Azza her name, I wear her chain,
“And far and wide is Azza's reign.”
My heavenly fair! it was not she:—
Azza was neither fair, nor free.
Her visage dark, but told within
Some hidden mystery of stn.
Darkly her savage eyeballs roll,
But darker, ah! darker was her soul.
Vers'd in the depth of female wiles,
Death, slav'ry, hell, were in her smiles.
Hence in disdain I took my flight,
Who shall mislead a lover's sight?
Azza was neither fair, nor free.
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Some hidden mystery of stn.
Darkly her savage eyeballs roll,
But darker, ah! darker was her soul.
Vers'd in the depth of female wiles,
Death, slav'ry, hell, were in her smiles.
Hence in disdain I took my flight,
Who shall mislead a lover's sight?
Lo! now I face the eastern sun!
And quick as light my course is run.
Bright upon my ravish'd eyes,
All Asia's golden glories rise.
Full in my sight, before me go,
In all the pomp and pride of show,
Kings, princes, emperors, sages grave,
Warrior-chiefs, and heroes brave.
And many a female form is seen,
And each might pass for Beauty's queen:
Still all my wish and all my prayer,
“Oh! could I meet my heavenly fair!”
And quick as light my course is run.
Bright upon my ravish'd eyes,
All Asia's golden glories rise.
Full in my sight, before me go,
In all the pomp and pride of show,
Kings, princes, emperors, sages grave,
Warrior-chiefs, and heroes brave.
And many a female form is seen,
185
Still all my wish and all my prayer,
“Oh! could I meet my heavenly fair!”
They bring a dame, “and this is she;—
“Leila is beauteous, great and free.”
Not the crystal, clear and bright,
Shone like her eyes' ætherial light;
Not the pearl, however fair,
Could with her snowy skin compare;
Her cheek a colour did disclose,
Beyond the ruby, or the rose;
Her locks in easy ringlets play'd,
Darker than night's mysterious shade:
Her lovely lips were blushing-red,
Like coral in its native bed;
Her breath than violet more sweet;
Her teeth like iv'ry white and neat.
And to what Nature could impart,
Leila had ev'ry charm of Art.
“Leila is beauteous, great and free.”
Not the crystal, clear and bright,
Shone like her eyes' ætherial light;
Not the pearl, however fair,
Could with her snowy skin compare;
Her cheek a colour did disclose,
Beyond the ruby, or the rose;
Her locks in easy ringlets play'd,
Darker than night's mysterious shade:
Her lovely lips were blushing-red,
Like coral in its native bed;
Her breath than violet more sweet;
Her teeth like iv'ry white and neat.
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Leila had ev'ry charm of Art.
Realms were subject to her sway,
And hosts of slaves her call obey.
Merchants and nobles do but roam,
To bring for Leila treasures home.
Heziaz' nards, and Mecca's flowers,
And all the soul of Tuda's bowers;
Each perfume, that its sweets distills,
From Naged's groves, or Naidis' hills;
All that in Golconda shines
Of glittering rock, or golden mines;
All on the lovely Leila wait,
For not more beauteous she than great.
And hosts of slaves her call obey.
Merchants and nobles do but roam,
To bring for Leila treasures home.
Heziaz' nards, and Mecca's flowers,
And all the soul of Tuda's bowers;
Each perfume, that its sweets distills,
From Naged's groves, or Naidis' hills;
All that in Golconda shines
Of glittering rock, or golden mines;
All on the lovely Leila wait,
For not more beauteous she than great.
But what is beauty, what is power?
Fleeting like the passing hour.
Beauty, scarce beauty seems to be,
That spurns the glory to be free.
Riches are poor, and power is weak,
Unless they nobler triumphs seek.
Leila would every thought control,
For she was tyrant in the soul.
My heavenly fair!—It was not she—
I scorn the dame, that is not free.
Hence in disdain I take my flight:
Who shall mislead a lover's sight?
Fleeting like the passing hour.
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That spurns the glory to be free.
Riches are poor, and power is weak,
Unless they nobler triumphs seek.
Leila would every thought control,
For she was tyrant in the soul.
My heavenly fair!—It was not she—
I scorn the dame, that is not free.
Hence in disdain I take my flight:
Who shall mislead a lover's sight?
But loftier now I soar in soul,
Uprising towards the northern pole:
O'er woods, and rocks, and hills of snow,
Swift as the whirlwind's speed I go.
Now on the ocean vast I roam,
And see the Norway monster foam,
Floating along for many a mile,
As some proud sea encircled isle;
While, like tall masts, sea serpents rise,
With sinuous motions to the skies:
Till backward now I gain the strand,
And traverse thro' each distant land.
Swift thro' Lapland's frosts I haste;
Swift thro' Siberia's trackless waste;
See people fierce, and people strong,
In hardy squadrons wheel along;
See princes in long order go,
With royal port and martial brow;
See many a smiling royal dame,
With eye of fire, and stately frame;
Still all my wish, and all my prayer,
“Where shall I find my heavenly fair?”
Uprising towards the northern pole:
O'er woods, and rocks, and hills of snow,
Swift as the whirlwind's speed I go.
Now on the ocean vast I roam,
And see the Norway monster foam,
Floating along for many a mile,
As some proud sea encircled isle;
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With sinuous motions to the skies:
Till backward now I gain the strand,
And traverse thro' each distant land.
Swift thro' Lapland's frosts I haste;
Swift thro' Siberia's trackless waste;
See people fierce, and people strong,
In hardy squadrons wheel along;
See princes in long order go,
With royal port and martial brow;
See many a smiling royal dame,
With eye of fire, and stately frame;
Still all my wish, and all my prayer,
“Where shall I find my heavenly fair?”
“Behold your dame! and this is she;
“Skada is beauteous, fair, and free.”
“Skada is beauteous, fair, and free.”
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My heavenly fair! It was not she:—
Skada was neither fair nor free.
Wild was her look, and stern her air,
Fierce as a northern meteor's glare.
Skada, tho' practis'd long in art,
Ne'er felt the softness of the heart.
Her will was law; her word was fate:
Her only glory to be great.
Hence in disdain I take my flight;
Who shall mislead a lover's fight?
Skada was neither fair nor free.
Wild was her look, and stern her air,
Fierce as a northern meteor's glare.
Skada, tho' practis'd long in art,
Ne'er felt the softness of the heart.
Her will was law; her word was fate:
Her only glory to be great.
Hence in disdain I take my flight;
Who shall mislead a lover's fight?
Now like a spirit airy-free,
Soon have I pass'd th' Atlantic sea;
And I have reach'd Columbia's shore,
And travell'd motley nations o'er.
Rapt in my strange mysterious love,
Northward many a league I rove.
Still anxious, restless still I go,
O'er seas of ice, and hills of snow;
Valleys, that shew no verdure's pride,
And lakes, that spread like ocean wide;
Till pinnacling a neck of land,
Between two boundless seas I stand.
Then downward far I take my flight,
O'er sunny plains, o'er many an height.
Peruvian mines, and Chili's shades
Soon my restless soul pervades;
Rivers, that teem with golden ore,
And rocks, that gild the southern shore.
And many a youth, and many a dame,
Of lofty port, and royal name,
Pass and repass before my sight,
All in glittering robes bedight.
Yet none of all the dames I see,
Is like my charmer fair and free.
Soon have I pass'd th' Atlantic sea;
And I have reach'd Columbia's shore,
And travell'd motley nations o'er.
Rapt in my strange mysterious love,
Northward many a league I rove.
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O'er seas of ice, and hills of snow;
Valleys, that shew no verdure's pride,
And lakes, that spread like ocean wide;
Till pinnacling a neck of land,
Between two boundless seas I stand.
Then downward far I take my flight,
O'er sunny plains, o'er many an height.
Peruvian mines, and Chili's shades
Soon my restless soul pervades;
Rivers, that teem with golden ore,
And rocks, that gild the southern shore.
And many a youth, and many a dame,
Of lofty port, and royal name,
Pass and repass before my sight,
All in glittering robes bedight.
Yet none of all the dames I see,
Is like my charmer fair and free.
191
Again, as quick as lightning fleets,
I pass the equinoctial heats.
And now I wander every plain,
Wide-stretching towards th' Atlantic main.
Here many a distant state I see
All by one settled league agree;
(As still around a glorious sun,
The planets far-encircling run;)
Each people differing much in name,
But still in arts and laws the same.
Here Love was gay, and honest Toil
Had labour'd long the happy soil:
And Plenty well rewards the pain,
For every field wide-waves with grain.;
With sail outstretch'd, while Commerce stands,
Prepar'd to visit distant lands;
Tho' Want compells no swain to roam,
For Peace endears a native home.
Ah! happy, happy people tell,
Does here my lovely charmer dwell?
Still all my wish and all my prayer,
That I might meet my heavenly fair.
I pass the equinoctial heats.
And now I wander every plain,
Wide-stretching towards th' Atlantic main.
Here many a distant state I see
All by one settled league agree;
(As still around a glorious sun,
The planets far-encircling run;)
Each people differing much in name,
But still in arts and laws the same.
Here Love was gay, and honest Toil
Had labour'd long the happy soil:
And Plenty well rewards the pain,
For every field wide-waves with grain.;
With sail outstretch'd, while Commerce stands,
Prepar'd to visit distant lands;
Tho' Want compells no swain to roam,
For Peace endears a native home.
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Does here my lovely charmer dwell?
Still all my wish and all my prayer,
That I might meet my heavenly fair.
They bring a dame—“and this is she—
“Lo! Eleutheria! great and free.”
“Lo! Eleutheria! great and free.”
The dame was free, the dame was bright,
Glittering her eye, like heaven's own light.
Her locks of gold stream loose behind,
Disporting as the frolic wind.
The rosy cheek, the soul of fire,
The gay luxuriance of attire;
Her movements, negligently gay,
Distinctly to my gaze display,
Far, far beyond the reach of art,
All, that can win upon the heart.
Warm glows my breast; my spirits rise;—
And rapture kindles in my eyes!
Till shivering cold, at length, prevails
Thro' all my limbs—and language fails.
Then accents faint my soul declare,
“Yes! thou art she! my heavenly fair.”
Glittering her eye, like heaven's own light.
Her locks of gold stream loose behind,
Disporting as the frolic wind.
The rosy cheek, the soul of fire,
The gay luxuriance of attire;
Her movements, negligently gay,
Distinctly to my gaze display,
Far, far beyond the reach of art,
All, that can win upon the heart.
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And rapture kindles in my eyes!
Till shivering cold, at length, prevails
Thro' all my limbs—and language fails.
Then accents faint my soul declare,
“Yes! thou art she! my heavenly fair.”
With virgin blush and smiling eyes
Fair Eleutheria straight replies—
Pilgrim, not yet thy course is run,
Pilgrim, not yet thy labour done.
Tho' mild my form, tho' free my air,
Yet am I not thy noble fair;
Tho' still with her I kindred claim,
And from her I derive my name.
In a gay isle, beyond the main,
My mother holds her golden reign.
The fairest she the fair among,
For ever fair, for ever young.
And she hath many ages told;
But seems in wisdom only old.
Tho' small the native realms she owns,
Yet does she govern distant thrones.
Her empire reaches far and wide;
Thro' every sea her navies ride:
The treasures rare of every soil
She brings, to bless her fav'rite isle.
And, while she boasts the treasures rare,
Still her own fields are fresh and fair.
This said, fair Eleutheria flies,
Quick-glancing from my longing eyes.
Fair Eleutheria straight replies—
Pilgrim, not yet thy course is run,
Pilgrim, not yet thy labour done.
Tho' mild my form, tho' free my air,
Yet am I not thy noble fair;
Tho' still with her I kindred claim,
And from her I derive my name.
In a gay isle, beyond the main,
My mother holds her golden reign.
The fairest she the fair among,
For ever fair, for ever young.
194
But seems in wisdom only old.
Tho' small the native realms she owns,
Yet does she govern distant thrones.
Her empire reaches far and wide;
Thro' every sea her navies ride:
The treasures rare of every soil
She brings, to bless her fav'rite isle.
And, while she boasts the treasures rare,
Still her own fields are fresh and fair.
This said, fair Eleutheria flies,
Quick-glancing from my longing eyes.
High-beats my lofty soul again;
I skim across th' Atlantic main:
This isle I see—my hopes expand;
And quick I traverse all the land.
But tho' I travel round and round,
Yet no where is my charmer found:
Tho' still my wish, and still my prayer,
Oh! could I meet my heavenly fair!
And here at length my course I stay,
From many a labyrinth wild of way.
What fate, oh Sage! remains for me?
Say, canst thou read Heaven's high decree?
I skim across th' Atlantic main:
This isle I see—my hopes expand;
And quick I traverse all the land.
But tho' I travel round and round,
Yet no where is my charmer found:
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Oh! could I meet my heavenly fair!
And here at length my course I stay,
From many a labyrinth wild of way.
What fate, oh Sage! remains for me?
Say, canst thou read Heaven's high decree?
The Sage replies—Yes! son, I know,
Whence thou dost come, and where wouldst go.
Pilgrim, not yet thy course is run,
Pilgrim, not yet thy labour done.
Heav'n's ways I read—and well attend;
In me behold a guide and friend.
Whence thou dost come, and where wouldst go.
Pilgrim, not yet thy course is run,
Pilgrim, not yet thy labour done.
Heav'n's ways I read—and well attend;
In me behold a guide and friend.
In vain thy wanderings far and near,
Thy lovely mistress dwells not here.
The isle, for which thy spirit sighs,
Still many a league in distance lies.
Nor let these words thy soul affright,
Lo! once for all I set thee right.
Thy lovely mistress dwells not here.
The isle, for which thy spirit sighs,
Still many a league in distance lies.
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Lo! once for all I set thee right.
He said—and high he rais'd his hand;
And wide he wav'd his magic wand;
When thus: “To man 'tis giv'n to know
“His share of bliss, and share of woe.
“Soon shalt thou view the wish'd-for isle,
“Towards which thou long wast doom'd to toil;
“Soon shalt behold the matchless dame,
“Whom thou dost ‘heavenly fair’ proclaim.
“And thou shalt view her passing-great,
“Rob'd in full majesty of state;
“But still, with soul of anguish too,
“That heav'nly Fair degraded view.
“My mission past, lo! I retire,
“Thy guide is near—no more inquire.”
Soft-glides a vessel now to shore,
And, lo! the Sage is seen no more.
And wide he wav'd his magic wand;
When thus: “To man 'tis giv'n to know
“His share of bliss, and share of woe.
“Soon shalt thou view the wish'd-for isle,
“Towards which thou long wast doom'd to toil;
“Soon shalt behold the matchless dame,
“Whom thou dost ‘heavenly fair’ proclaim.
“And thou shalt view her passing-great,
“Rob'd in full majesty of state;
“But still, with soul of anguish too,
“That heav'nly Fair degraded view.
“My mission past, lo! I retire,
“Thy guide is near—no more inquire.”
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And, lo! the Sage is seen no more.
I enter—softly blows the breeze;
Mild is the sun, and smooth the seas.
With swelling sail, and streamers gay,
The vessel cuts the watry way.
Soft Lydian measures lull to rest
The rising cares, that swell my breast.
No adverse winds obstruct our course;
No marshall'd billows urge their force.
In quiet state and gilded pride,
Quick o'er the ocean-stream we glide.
Till soon, in skies of lightest blue,
Glittering cliffs ascend to view;
And now behold the wish'd-for land!
And now we wander o'er the strand.
Nor doubts, nor fears, my course impede,
I follow on, as Heav'n may lead.
Mild is the sun, and smooth the seas.
With swelling sail, and streamers gay,
The vessel cuts the watry way.
Soft Lydian measures lull to rest
The rising cares, that swell my breast.
No adverse winds obstruct our course;
No marshall'd billows urge their force.
In quiet state and gilded pride,
Quick o'er the ocean-stream we glide.
Till soon, in skies of lightest blue,
Glittering cliffs ascend to view;
And now behold the wish'd-for land!
And now we wander o'er the strand.
Nor doubts, nor fears, my course impede,
I follow on, as Heav'n may lead.
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In a long deep recess there lies
A cave unseen by mortal eyes.
High on each side huge rocks arise,
And proudly seem to scale the skies.
The jetting sides compose a bay,
Where Ocean lingers long his way:
For here the silent waters sleep,
As broken from the parent deep.
Woods grace the rocks, and from their brow
On the dark waters frown below.
A cave unseen by mortal eyes.
High on each side huge rocks arise,
And proudly seem to scale the skies.
The jetting sides compose a bay,
Where Ocean lingers long his way:
For here the silent waters sleep,
As broken from the parent deep.
Woods grace the rocks, and from their brow
On the dark waters frown below.
See now before my ravished eyes
A mighty scene of wonders rise!
The waters near the cave are fled,
And mingle with their native bed.
Then soon I view the sacred cave,
Clos'd in, till now, beneath the wave.
And wide the massy gates unfold,
Massy gates of glittering gold.
Thro' all my limbs what trembling reigns!
What freezing runs thro' all my veins!—
Spring in alarm my hopes and fears;
With sounds unusual ring my ears.
And from my cheek the colour flies;
And all of sight has left my eyes.
My voice is gone,—and swims my head,—
I seem, as life itself were fled.
When, lo! the Sage who set aright
My course, appears again in sight.
And high aloft he lifts his hand,
And wide he waves his magic wand.
I glow again—my fears are borne
Swift, as retreat the dreams of morn:
I enter, gazing round and round,
As treading consecrated ground.
A mighty scene of wonders rise!
The waters near the cave are fled,
And mingle with their native bed.
Then soon I view the sacred cave,
Clos'd in, till now, beneath the wave.
199
Massy gates of glittering gold.
Thro' all my limbs what trembling reigns!
What freezing runs thro' all my veins!—
Spring in alarm my hopes and fears;
With sounds unusual ring my ears.
And from my cheek the colour flies;
And all of sight has left my eyes.
My voice is gone,—and swims my head,—
I seem, as life itself were fled.
When, lo! the Sage who set aright
My course, appears again in sight.
And high aloft he lifts his hand,
And wide he waves his magic wand.
I glow again—my fears are borne
Swift, as retreat the dreams of morn:
I enter, gazing round and round,
As treading consecrated ground.
200
Here I behold each emblem fair
Of every art and science rare.
There a gay vessel charms my sight,
In pearls, and glittering diamonds bright,
A ship's fair model, emblem made
Of commerce, far and wide display'd;
And relicks rare of ancient times,
And stones and gems of distant climes,
And silks of more than Tyrian dies,
And flow'rs, and fruits of warmest skies.
Now gazing on from side to side,
I pierce a forest's branching pride.
And every tree of living hue
Spreads its full honours to the view.
Here rise the poplar's silvery lines,
And ash with scarlet berries shines;
The cypress walk, for lovers made,
And cedar's deep religious shade.
The chesnut's dark umbrageous green,
With many a flowery gem between,
Doth each its daintiest verdure spread,
Lifting aloft the towering head.
But above all conspicuous stands,
And wide its reverend arms expands,
As it a thousand years had stood,
The oak, great monarch of the wood.
And many a youth, and many a maid,
Were dancing in the chequer'd shade.
While by woodside, on mountain steep,
Wander'd a flock of snow-white sheep;
And sidelong stretch'd a shepherd gay,
Piping his sweetest pastoral lay.
Still I advance—till soon I gain,
In musing lost, a spacious plain.
When thus my old magician-friend,
Pilgrim, lo! here thy wanderings end.
Of every art and science rare.
There a gay vessel charms my sight,
In pearls, and glittering diamonds bright,
A ship's fair model, emblem made
Of commerce, far and wide display'd;
And relicks rare of ancient times,
And stones and gems of distant climes,
And silks of more than Tyrian dies,
And flow'rs, and fruits of warmest skies.
Now gazing on from side to side,
I pierce a forest's branching pride.
And every tree of living hue
Spreads its full honours to the view.
Here rise the poplar's silvery lines,
And ash with scarlet berries shines;
The cypress walk, for lovers made,
And cedar's deep religious shade.
201
With many a flowery gem between,
Doth each its daintiest verdure spread,
Lifting aloft the towering head.
But above all conspicuous stands,
And wide its reverend arms expands,
As it a thousand years had stood,
The oak, great monarch of the wood.
And many a youth, and many a maid,
Were dancing in the chequer'd shade.
While by woodside, on mountain steep,
Wander'd a flock of snow-white sheep;
And sidelong stretch'd a shepherd gay,
Piping his sweetest pastoral lay.
Still I advance—till soon I gain,
In musing lost, a spacious plain.
When thus my old magician-friend,
Pilgrim, lo! here thy wanderings end.
202
I look, and full before my eyes,
A thousand thousand glories rise.
High seated on a stately throne,
That form divinely glorious shone;
Shone out that form transcendent-bright,
That whilom charm'd my ravish'd sight;
Which I had sought, but never found,
Tho' wandering wild the world around;
Which still could every care beguile;—
And she was goddess of the isle.
On either side a brilliant band
In silent adoration stand,
The highborn natives of the isle,
And strangers, from a distant soil;
—For far and wide was spread her fame,
And all who knew, rever'd the name.—
And here of every land and tongue,
Were masters of the mighty song;
All proud to lift their loftiest lays,
And sound this heavenly Lady's praise.
I hear the warblings of the lyre,
As teeming with Apollo's fire.
The deep mouth'd organ's peal I hear,
As tho' Cecilia's soul were near.
I hear the trumpet's martial sound,
As warrior-souls were thronging round.
And the drum's longest, loudest beat,
As when two hostile armies meet.
I hear the melting lute complain,
As telling Love's delicious pain.
And thousand voices too I hear,
Loud and strong, and soft and clear,
All in one mighty theme combine,
All in symphonious chorus join.
Deep rolls the stream of sound along,
In the full majesty of song.
And still the descant's boldest lays
Clos'd with the burden of her praise.
A thousand thousand glories rise.
High seated on a stately throne,
That form divinely glorious shone;
Shone out that form transcendent-bright,
That whilom charm'd my ravish'd sight;
Which I had sought, but never found,
Tho' wandering wild the world around;
Which still could every care beguile;—
And she was goddess of the isle.
On either side a brilliant band
In silent adoration stand,
The highborn natives of the isle,
And strangers, from a distant soil;
—For far and wide was spread her fame,
And all who knew, rever'd the name.—
And here of every land and tongue,
Were masters of the mighty song;
203
And sound this heavenly Lady's praise.
I hear the warblings of the lyre,
As teeming with Apollo's fire.
The deep mouth'd organ's peal I hear,
As tho' Cecilia's soul were near.
I hear the trumpet's martial sound,
As warrior-souls were thronging round.
And the drum's longest, loudest beat,
As when two hostile armies meet.
I hear the melting lute complain,
As telling Love's delicious pain.
And thousand voices too I hear,
Loud and strong, and soft and clear,
All in one mighty theme combine,
All in symphonious chorus join.
Deep rolls the stream of sound along,
In the full majesty of song.
204
Clos'd with the burden of her praise.
But, ah! not splendid scenes alone,
And Peace's milder lustre shone;
Nor only Plenty's form appears;
Nor only Music charms the ears.
Hark! I hear—not distant far
March'd the Giant Fiend of war.
Yonder roll'd the kindled storms,
Yonder strode the warrior forms.
Arms against arms embattled clang,
And with wild shouts the mountain rang.
Who may the warrior's pride control?—
Lavish, too lavish of the soul,
Lo! many a gallant hero slain,
And blood empurples all the slain.
Faint, and more faint they draw their breath,
And, hark! the mighty groan in death.
While famish'd eagles hovering round
Drink life-blood from each gasping wound.
In vain for sires the children mourn,
And wives expect their lords return.
Quick thro' their veins the spirits flee,
Nor wife, nor child, they more shall see.
And Peace's milder lustre shone;
Nor only Plenty's form appears;
Nor only Music charms the ears.
Hark! I hear—not distant far
March'd the Giant Fiend of war.
Yonder roll'd the kindled storms,
Yonder strode the warrior forms.
Arms against arms embattled clang,
And with wild shouts the mountain rang.
Who may the warrior's pride control?—
Lavish, too lavish of the soul,
Lo! many a gallant hero slain,
And blood empurples all the slain.
205
And, hark! the mighty groan in death.
While famish'd eagles hovering round
Drink life-blood from each gasping wound.
In vain for sires the children mourn,
And wives expect their lords return.
Quick thro' their veins the spirits flee,
Nor wife, nor child, they more shall see.
New horrors rise!—Behold a throng
Of hapless negroes trail along;
From native lands the sufferers go,
To nurse their long, long tale of woe;
In distant realms, to toil unknown;
To pour unheard the secret groan;
To wear the vile tremendous chain;
And linger life away in pain.
Rest of the dear delights of life,
Friend, parent, husband, child, and wife;
Like the poor refuse of their race,
Labour their all, and long disgrace.
And e'en where splendid scenes arise,
While Peace looks on with smiling eyes,
Where Plenty's cheerful form appears,
And sweetest music charms the ears,
Many a feeble form I view,
And many a cheek of pallid hue.
Want was there, and trembling Age
Pining in life's last lingering stage.
And, e'en amid the tuneful throng
Was many a son of rapturous song,
But mute as tho' the Muses' fires
Ne'er warm'd their hearts, or rous'd their lyres.
In vain sweet measures thrill around;
In vain the swell and pomp of sound;
What shall the soul all-hopeless cheer?
The numbers die upon their ear.
Silent they sat, while thro' their souls
A tide of mighty sorrows rolls.
Of hapless negroes trail along;
From native lands the sufferers go,
To nurse their long, long tale of woe;
In distant realms, to toil unknown;
To pour unheard the secret groan;
To wear the vile tremendous chain;
And linger life away in pain.
206
Friend, parent, husband, child, and wife;
Like the poor refuse of their race,
Labour their all, and long disgrace.
And e'en where splendid scenes arise,
While Peace looks on with smiling eyes,
Where Plenty's cheerful form appears,
And sweetest music charms the ears,
Many a feeble form I view,
And many a cheek of pallid hue.
Want was there, and trembling Age
Pining in life's last lingering stage.
And, e'en amid the tuneful throng
Was many a son of rapturous song,
But mute as tho' the Muses' fires
Ne'er warm'd their hearts, or rous'd their lyres.
In vain sweet measures thrill around;
In vain the swell and pomp of sound;
207
The numbers die upon their ear.
Silent they sat, while thro' their souls
A tide of mighty sorrows rolls.
I now, with slow and awful pace,
Approach the Lady of the place:
When, sudden on my wondering eyes,
I see a curious structure rise:
A high triumphant arch, that wears
The beauteous reverend pomp of years:
—As when, in Grecia's happier days,
The conqu'ror claim'd his wreathe of praise,
And, in gay triumphs, proud to ride,
With vanquish'd warriors by his side—
High o'er the arch distinctly shone,
An emblem of the glorious sun:
Six wandering stars, with motion slow,
All in different orbits go.
Above, another errant light,
Holds on its course, all paly-bright:
With orbit wide, and vast his size,
He looks the monarch of the skies.
Soon o'er the plain, through all the rows,
A busy bustling tumult glows:
And soon again, with martial grace,
Each closes in his destin'd place.
And two and two, and hand in hand,
In grand procession moves the band.
And trophies proud they bear along,
Rousing the clash of martial song.
And as with stately tread they march,
Ere yet they pass the solemn arch,
Each bow'd before that seventh light,
That held from far his paly light.
Of orbit wide, and largest size,
That look'd the monarch of the skies.
Approach the Lady of the place:
When, sudden on my wondering eyes,
I see a curious structure rise:
A high triumphant arch, that wears
The beauteous reverend pomp of years:
—As when, in Grecia's happier days,
The conqu'ror claim'd his wreathe of praise,
And, in gay triumphs, proud to ride,
With vanquish'd warriors by his side—
High o'er the arch distinctly shone,
An emblem of the glorious sun:
208
All in different orbits go.
Above, another errant light,
Holds on its course, all paly-bright:
With orbit wide, and vast his size,
He looks the monarch of the skies.
Soon o'er the plain, through all the rows,
A busy bustling tumult glows:
And soon again, with martial grace,
Each closes in his destin'd place.
And two and two, and hand in hand,
In grand procession moves the band.
And trophies proud they bear along,
Rousing the clash of martial song.
And as with stately tread they march,
Ere yet they pass the solemn arch,
Each bow'd before that seventh light,
That held from far his paly light.
209
That look'd the monarch of the skies.
Lo! past is all the crowd along,
And sunk the swell of martial song.
And now alone upon the plain
I with that awful queen remain,
The goddess fair, so heav'nly bright,
That first in vision met my sight.
What shall the generous soul affray?
I tread resolv'd the arduous way.
Love can doubts and fears control;
And give new vigour to the soul.
And sunk the swell of martial song.
And now alone upon the plain
I with that awful queen remain,
The goddess fair, so heav'nly bright,
That first in vision met my sight.
What shall the generous soul affray?
I tread resolv'd the arduous way.
Love can doubts and fears control;
And give new vigour to the soul.
Nearer and nearer still I drew,
To yield this goddess homage due;
To tell her how in toil and pain,
I sought her true, tho' sought in vain,
Now gently urg'd, now wildly hurld,
Had travell'd restless round the world,
Her vision'd form my only rest,
And she the fire, that warm'd my breast.
—But, oh! what tortures rack my soul!
How wild and wild my eyeballs roll!
I view her near,—and still more near;—
Then stand a statue, chill'd with fear.
Clos'd were her eyes to all around,
And in a golden bandage bound;
Nor could she voice of mortal hear;
A death-like deafness bound her ear.
While from her lips, to seal her tongue,
A vile inglorious Padlock hung.
I struggle,—but in vain,—for breath,—
I seem as in the grasp of death.
To Heav'n I lift my burning eyes;—
I start!—and lo! the vision flies.
To yield this goddess homage due;
To tell her how in toil and pain,
I sought her true, tho' sought in vain,
210
Had travell'd restless round the world,
Her vision'd form my only rest,
And she the fire, that warm'd my breast.
—But, oh! what tortures rack my soul!
How wild and wild my eyeballs roll!
I view her near,—and still more near;—
Then stand a statue, chill'd with fear.
Clos'd were her eyes to all around,
And in a golden bandage bound;
Nor could she voice of mortal hear;
A death-like deafness bound her ear.
While from her lips, to seal her tongue,
A vile inglorious Padlock hung.
I struggle,—but in vain,—for breath,—
I seem as in the grasp of death.
To Heav'n I lift my burning eyes;—
I start!—and lo! the vision flies.
| Poems | |