 | Poetical sketches |  |
65
THE NORTH SHORE.
POETS and Painters still have vied
In sketching Scarbro's southern side;
Attracted by the sunny glow,
The fort above, the port below,
It's cliff, it's spa, it's four-in-hand
Light flying o'er the yellow strand—
And all the lovely, all the gay,
Which form it's long et cætera.
In sketching Scarbro's southern side;
Attracted by the sunny glow,
The fort above, the port below,
It's cliff, it's spa, it's four-in-hand
Light flying o'er the yellow strand—
And all the lovely, all the gay,
Which form it's long et cætera.
Like insect-motes in summer air
Gaily we flutter here and there;
Light on each flower in radiance drest,
Which to the day-star spreads it's breast;
In quest of kindred triflers stray,
And buz our little hour away:
But ever with due caution flee
Thy sunless crags, Adversity!
Yet painters there might well discern
Nature magnificently stern;
And poets ethically trace
Apt lessons for an erring race—
For, on the mountain's frowning side,
Oft does sublimity reside:
Within life's melancholy cell
The gentler virtues often dwell;
And many a gem of moral lore
Is strew'd upon her rugged shore.
Gaily we flutter here and there;
Light on each flower in radiance drest,
Which to the day-star spreads it's breast;
In quest of kindred triflers stray,
And buz our little hour away:
But ever with due caution flee
Thy sunless crags, Adversity!
66
Nature magnificently stern;
And poets ethically trace
Apt lessons for an erring race—
For, on the mountain's frowning side,
Oft does sublimity reside:
Within life's melancholy cell
The gentler virtues often dwell;
And many a gem of moral lore
Is strew'd upon her rugged shore.
Not for such precious gatherings there
Does restless Tottergait repair:
Enough he thought his early youth
Had hunted academic truth,
Where Euclid taught him to define
Precisely straight from crooked line ;
When he his flinching hand and cue
From birch and ferula withdrew—
O deem not thou unfriendly those
Or to Greek verse, or Latin prose:
Flogging of laziness the doom is,
Ignaviam pœna premit comes;
And genius oft will sleep or swerve,
Till birch explore the hidden nerve
Where school-boy's agony is born:
Then bright and vigorous as the morn,
When Phœbus mounts and streaks the east,
He rushes from inglorious rest;
And on careering pinion whirl'd,
Streams light on an adoring world.
Does restless Tottergait repair:
Enough he thought his early youth
Had hunted academic truth,
Where Euclid taught him to define
Precisely straight from crooked line ;
When he his flinching hand and cue
From birch and ferula withdrew—
O deem not thou unfriendly those
Or to Greek verse, or Latin prose:
67
Ignaviam pœna premit comes;
And genius oft will sleep or swerve,
Till birch explore the hidden nerve
Where school-boy's agony is born:
Then bright and vigorous as the morn,
When Phœbus mounts and streaks the east,
He rushes from inglorious rest;
And on careering pinion whirl'd,
Streams light on an adoring world.
But Tottergait, alert and bold,
Like him the crane-neck'd chief of old,
With laurels whose bald pate to hide
Full six score human myriads died,
On Latian or on foreign plains—
Thinks nothing done while aught remains ;
And hence, by him their Cæsar led,
The northern shore his party tread.
Like him the crane-neck'd chief of old,
With laurels whose bald pate to hide
Full six score human myriads died,
On Latian or on foreign plains—
Thinks nothing done while aught remains ;
And hence, by him their Cæsar led,
The northern shore his party tread.
Here sought I to protract my verse,
The toilsome march I might rehearse—
Long Room Street straight, and Newbrough broad;
And Queen Street fair, so lies the road;
And, stretching far as eye can see,
The everlasting Ropery!
The toilsome march I might rehearse—
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And Queen Street fair, so lies the road;
And, stretching far as eye can see,
The everlasting Ropery!
Then might I minutes five or six,
Their foot upon the isthmus fix:
(The twin-sea'd drawbridge heaving still,
Blow the light wind which way it will)
Ere down the steep and rough descent
Their steps, precipitate, are bent.
Ella, there is no cause for fear—
At least, Avernus yawns not here:
For thitherward the slope was facile,
Or Virgil represents the place ill.
Yet, ere thy light foot totters down,
With bird's eye glance survey the town;
And, as thou view'st it's narrow space,
Think what keen throbs it's bounds embrace:
How many a brow with gladness shines,
How many a heart in silence pines,
Contrasted with the billows' roar
Aye surging on yon dreary shore!
Their foot upon the isthmus fix:
(The twin-sea'd drawbridge heaving still,
Blow the light wind which way it will)
Ere down the steep and rough descent
Their steps, precipitate, are bent.
Ella, there is no cause for fear—
At least, Avernus yawns not here:
For thitherward the slope was facile,
Or Virgil represents the place ill.
Yet, ere thy light foot totters down,
With bird's eye glance survey the town;
And, as thou view'st it's narrow space,
Think what keen throbs it's bounds embrace:
How many a brow with gladness shines,
How many a heart in silence pines,
Contrasted with the billows' roar
Aye surging on yon dreary shore!
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Think too, where opens at thy feet
That hideous chasm, the seas might meet—
As some have dreamt—were human art
Summon'd to execute her part!
But feebler arm than his, who rent
Huge Athos from it's continent,
Might scarcely hope with ductile tide
The ocean's whelming mass to guide;
Or bid the wave it's sweep forego,
And in contracted channel flow.
That hideous chasm, the seas might meet—
As some have dreamt—were human art
Summon'd to execute her part!
But feebler arm than his, who rent
Huge Athos from it's continent,
Might scarcely hope with ductile tide
The ocean's whelming mass to guide;
Or bid the wave it's sweep forego,
And in contracted channel flow.
These ponderings burthen not the brain
Of him, who leads the lovely train:
Yet think he must, on that lone strand
Where shipless sea and houseless land,
With features congruously rude,
Share the sad reign of solitude.
Scarce e'en a shell or pebble there
Rewards the solitary strayer,
Though all unrivall'd in the chace
The melancholy beach he trace,
And leave no stone unturn'd, no labour
Spare, to outvie his south-shore neighbour.
Of him, who leads the lovely train:
Yet think he must, on that lone strand
Where shipless sea and houseless land,
With features congruously rude,
Share the sad reign of solitude.
Scarce e'en a shell or pebble there
Rewards the solitary strayer,
Though all unrivall'd in the chace
The melancholy beach he trace,
And leave no stone unturn'd, no labour
Spare, to outvie his south-shore neighbour.
70
Not Selkirk more disconsolate
On green Fernandez' margin sate,
His eyes around th' horizon veering
With hope of distant speck appearing,
To animate the lifeless scene
And give him back the sight of men,
Than Tottergait his glance aghast
Across the watery desert cast.
In vain, he turn'd himself about:
Life, on all sides, seem'd ‘quite shut out!’
Wither'd by Winter's early breath,
That stunted grass announces death;
The sea-weed, in vast ruin piled,
Speaks tempest's triumphs wide and wild;
Scatter'd around yon lonely tree,
The leaves proclaim mortality:
The very Castle seems to say,
‘Strong as I was, I've had my day.’
“Turn we then southward, girls, our feet,
“I love the human face to meet.
“—Ha! sure yon object seems to move:
“The surge has given some crag a shove;
“And see, it strangely rolls this way—
“We shall be crush'd if long we stay:
“Haste, daughters—Ocean's music wild
(And at his own quaint thought he smil'd)
“Is that, which moved rocks of old;
“And hence in metaphor we're told
“Of Orpheus' and Amphion's shell,
“And his whom dolphins loved so well,
“That o'er the stormy main they bore
“Him safely to his native shore.”
On green Fernandez' margin sate,
His eyes around th' horizon veering
With hope of distant speck appearing,
To animate the lifeless scene
And give him back the sight of men,
Than Tottergait his glance aghast
Across the watery desert cast.
In vain, he turn'd himself about:
Life, on all sides, seem'd ‘quite shut out!’
Wither'd by Winter's early breath,
That stunted grass announces death;
The sea-weed, in vast ruin piled,
Speaks tempest's triumphs wide and wild;
Scatter'd around yon lonely tree,
The leaves proclaim mortality:
The very Castle seems to say,
‘Strong as I was, I've had my day.’
“Turn we then southward, girls, our feet,
“I love the human face to meet.
“—Ha! sure yon object seems to move:
“The surge has given some crag a shove;
“And see, it strangely rolls this way—
“We shall be crush'd if long we stay:
71
(And at his own quaint thought he smil'd)
“Is that, which moved rocks of old;
“And hence in metaphor we're told
“Of Orpheus' and Amphion's shell,
“And his whom dolphins loved so well,
“That o'er the stormy main they bore
“Him safely to his native shore.”
Lo! from his cheek the smile is gone,
And forward fast he hurries on.
More clearly to his vision shown
A horse, it's gentle rider thrown,
Scared by the boist'rous billows, flies—
And hark! that gentle rider's cries!
No more the solitude he mourns:
His youthful chivalry returns;
And, with the speed he used to know
Full half a century ago,
He springs—forgetful of his years!
Whom would not move a lady's tears?
More potent they than charmed juice
In age youth's vigour to infuse;
And, with the magic drops imbued,
Re-sinew e'en decrepitude.
And forward fast he hurries on.
More clearly to his vision shown
A horse, it's gentle rider thrown,
Scared by the boist'rous billows, flies—
And hark! that gentle rider's cries!
No more the solitude he mourns:
His youthful chivalry returns;
And, with the speed he used to know
Full half a century ago,
He springs—forgetful of his years!
Whom would not move a lady's tears?
More potent they than charmed juice
In age youth's vigour to infuse;
And, with the magic drops imbued,
Re-sinew e'en decrepitude.
72
The fallen fair one on her steed
Re-seated, homeward they proceed:
And, as King Lewis with his train
March'd up the hill, and down again;
So Tottergait with converse toil,
Tired of old Ocean's loud turmoil,
His having march'd down to the main,
Prepares to march them up again!
With straining steps the cliff they climb,
And with their ramble ends the rhyme.
Re-seated, homeward they proceed:
And, as King Lewis with his train
March'd up the hill, and down again;
So Tottergait with converse toil,
Tired of old Ocean's loud turmoil,
His having march'd down to the main,
Prepares to march them up again!
With straining steps the cliff they climb,
And with their ramble ends the rhyme.
W.
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