 | The South-Sea Sisters |  |
1. PART I.
ADDRESS TO SOLITUDE.—THE PRIMEVAL WILDERNESS.—FIRST SETTLERS.—PASTORAL LIFE.—SONG TO THE GNOMES.—PLUTUS RISES; HE FORETELS THE DISCOVERY OF GOLD-FIELDS.SYMPHONY.
Molto Adagio.
O, Solitude! O, voiceless crowd of trees;
O, hopeless wilderness without one fruit,
Or herb, or graceful flower!—O, pathless maze
Of maddening monotony, all glare,
Or else unspeakable sadness of blank shade;—
Whose intervals of grassy plain ne'er bore
The pleasant sight and movement of white flocks,
Or chesnut-spotted cattle; where man's form,
Though savage as the scene, rarely appeared,—
And when the glossy leanness darkly stalked
From tangled lair, t'was but to hunt for prey
In earth-holes, undergrowth, or lonely creek,
But ne'er to look Above!—O, Solitude!
Thou had'st an empire then without a soul
Beneath the solemn and unworshipped heavens,
As though nor earth, nor heaven, possessed a God.
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Andante Pastorale.
Such was the scene, till civilized man
Came with his flocks and pastoral hand
To claim—redeem—and use the land,—
A blessing t'were unwise to scan.
He, the strong pioneer, for all
In after years who crossed the sea,
Did this,—which honest truth may call,
The first seed of a Nation's Tree.
Came with his flocks and pastoral hand
To claim—redeem—and use the land,—
A blessing t'were unwise to scan.
He, the strong pioneer, for all
In after years who crossed the sea,
Did this,—which honest truth may call,
The first seed of a Nation's Tree.
Then rose the hut, the fence, the barn;
Then stray'd the countless flocks and herds;
The magpie in the dew-gemm'd morn
Warbled his joy, almost in words.
Now comes man's faithful friend, the dog;
Now oxen bow their moody heads;
Now the wild thorny bush-track threads
Each gallant horse, or leaps the log;
While the vast sweeps of grass appear
Awakening to their life's first year!
Then stray'd the countless flocks and herds;
The magpie in the dew-gemm'd morn
Warbled his joy, almost in words.
Now comes man's faithful friend, the dog;
Now oxen bow their moody heads;
Now the wild thorny bush-track threads
Each gallant horse, or leaps the log;
While the vast sweeps of grass appear
Awakening to their life's first year!
Allegro Molto Agitato.
Behold, a change!
(Beyond the range
Of all the brains of simple shepherd kings;)
'Midst darkness bred
Within the bed
Of earth's secreting veins and wealth-clogg'd springs.
White, red, and yellow rocks and clay,
For ages hidden from the day—
Or scorn'd when seen—
Shall, like a gnomic queen,
Shine forth in world-bewildering array.
No. 1.—Chorus.
Deep in the stony silence of the earth
The wealth of nations lies,
Waiting man's industry to give it birth,
And spread its lustre 'neath the skies.
Now o'er the darkness breaks a light
That shows the gnomes at play,
Racing about in their delight
Through many a flaw and cavern bright,
Lit by a golden ray!
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Of Earth's metallic night;
With mad glee under rocks, woods, plains,
They lead their elfin flight.
No. 2.—Recitative—Bass.
The deep hoarse voice of Plutus—from beneath—
The gnomes' grotesque mirth quells:
Slowly he rises! and his heary breath
In golden vapour works its spells.
“Cease these vain sports!—a different race of gnomes
From distant regions comes!
Gnomes of earth's surface, but whose daring spirits
Urge them across the Waters of the Globe,
Her rocky centuries to probe—
Ravage and rend her 'broidered robe—
With dark enchantments wrought 'neath many starry transits.
| The South-Sea Sisters | |