Gustavus Vasa / and other poems

Observant of the deepening maze of fate,
High on his throne of stars the Eternal sate:
Whence his broad eyes the changeful earth survey'd,
The rolling seas, the sun, the infernal shade,
And all his worlds. In one collected beam
Heaven's various rays around his temples gleam,
Yet veil with dusky cloud the lustre pure,
Whose fulness no archangel can endure.
In bright obscurity he sits sublime,
And tranquil looks thro' all the stream of time.

Around the throne a blue expanse of light
Extended past the reach of angel sight;
There heaven's superior spirits made abode,
Foremost in power, and nearest to their God.
Amidst the azure sea like stars they shone,
And circled in an hundred orbs the throne.
Those who o'er states preside, and those whose hand
Sheds war, or peace, or famine o'er a land;
Who guide the uncertain tempest in the pole,
Watch the red comet, and the stars control.

Thro' the bless'd orders, as in ranks they rise,
The Power on Earth's bright guardians turn'd his eyes.
The attendant Spirit knew the mystic sign,
For ever seated near the throne divine:
He saw his sovereign's will by looks express'd,
And Suecia's guardian angel thus address'd:

"Haste, faithful Spirit! to the nether skies,
Where Dalecarlia's misty mountains rise:
A Danish fort on the rude frontier stands,
Pregnant with war, and all the land commands:
With specious safety lull the band to rest,
Unstring each nerve, and weaken every breast.
The peasant-tribes with new-born strength inspire,
Bid ev'n the fearful glow with martial fire,
With sudden hope their cold despondence quell,
And patriot grief with patriot ire dispel.
Thence bend thy way to Denmark's stormy coast,
Where princely Frederic heads his secret host.
Let fears and jealousies each town alarm,
And Denmark's boldest tribes for Frederic arm.
That done, on Eric's hero-son attend,
Each motion guide, and each design befriend;
And to his sight in broader view unfold
The bright events to young Ernestus told.
Such be thy task: the rest in silence wait,
'Till changeful time shall work the will of fate."

Before the throne th' obedient Seraph bows,
And veils the star that glitters on his brows;
Then thro' the blue abyss impetuous flies
Where starr'd with suns heaven's ample pathway lies,
Its radiant limit: thro' that path he springs,
And shoots smooth-gliding on refulgent wings.

Far in the void of heaven a secret way
Leads from the mansions of empyreal day,
That wanders devious from the road of light,
And deepens gradual into central night:
By this dim path he sought the dark profound
Of utmost hell, Creation's flaming bound,
Saw the far-distant gleam, and heard the roar
Of dashing surges on the burning shore.
With hasty steps he trod the deep descent,
Thro' the gross air, that brighten'd as he went,
And call'd a spirit from the gulphs below,
Heaven's scourge, and minister of human woe.
The summon'd fiend forsook the fiery wave,
And Sweden's Genius thus his mandate gave:

"To Dalecarlia's tented fields repair,
And seek the Danish host assembled there.
With seeming safety and false hopes destroy
Their watchful care, and melt them down to joy;
And, while they sleep in the delusive charm,
Unstring each nerve, and weaken every arm;
So shall their fears, not Vasa, strike the blow,
And ready Conquest meet the coming foe."

He spoke. Incumbent on the boundless night,
To upper air they wing their echoing flight:
Thence swift to earth their airy voyage bend,
Where the cold North's unmeasured tracts extend:
O'er pine-clad Norway's wilderness of snow,
O'er the huge Dofrine's cloudy tops they go,
Thro' many a fertile province urge their flight;
And on Dal-Elbe's uncultured plains alight.

Thro' the majestic forest's leafy pride
The murmurs of the recent tempest sigh'd,
The shades of eve were closed, and pattering showers
Shed added gloom o'er midnight's starless hours.
Sleep in his downy car o'er Mora rode,
And soft-winged Silence ruled the calm abode.
Lull'd by the distant gale's unequal sound,
The peasants press their beds, with rushes crown'd,
From daily toil and fear a respite steal,
And dream of joys the waking may not feel.

High blazing on the Danish castle's brow,
The beacon redden'd all the fields below.
From its tall battlements, o'er moat and dell,
Chequering the light, uncertain shadows fell.
On high, the warder tunes his martial song;
The rocks, the dales, the cheerful notes prolong.

On a broad plain the rising structure stands,
The work of Dalecarlia's mountain bands,
In ancient years, ere Margaret ruled the clime,
Majestic still it stands, and unimpair'd by time.
The Western height primeval rocks inclose;
Low-murmuring to the south a river flows:
The rest with towers and tower-like works was crown'd,
And cast a various shadow o'er the ground.
Unnumber'd outworks, lessening by degrees,
Sloped to the plain: wide quivering to the breeze
The Danish standard, on the heights unrolled,
Inflames the air with many a waving fold.
Stupendous gates the massy fabric crown'd,
That rough with iron studs impervious frown'd.
Oft had the rocky cattle's rugged form
From its steep sides roll'd off the martial storm:
And whirlwinds, wasting all the neighbouring plain,
Spent their loud anger on its walls in vain.
Lofty it stood, impregnated with war,
And seem'd a craggy mountain from afar.

Fast by a fire, whose half-extinguished rays
Shot here and there a fluctuating blaze,
The warriors' languid eyes in slumber closed;
Their arms, beside them, gleam'd as they reposed.

⎧

The guards alone, still cautious of surprise,

⎨

Watch'd at each gate, and gazing on the skies,

⎩

Repell'd unwilling slumber from their eyes.

Five hundred Danish youths this post maintain'd,
To fight alike, and hardy ravage train'd;
Prepared the fiercest mountain-host to dare,
And dash from many a battlement the war;
Prepared to hurl the whizzing lance, to pour
The missive flame, or dart the arrowy shower:
Young Eric the selected squadron led,
Count Bernheim's son, in camps and contests bred;
A fiery spirit, never at a stay,
With martial projects teeming night and day;
Alike by terror, pity, and remorse
Untouch'd, he held, thro' crimes, his fearless course;
Proud, like his king, to conquer and oppress,
In action rash, and haughty with success.

While thus deep slumber half the troop oppress'd,
And ev'n the waking found a pause of rest,
The joyful demon, with malignant look,
O'er all the host his sable mantle shook.
Instant before the slumbering soldier's eyes
Dreams of past joy and sweet illusions rise:
And he whose ardent spirit late engaged
In airy wars, and bloodless battles waged,
A mountain-chief in every vision slew,
And on the yielding rear still foremost flew,
Now, sudden, sees each fading phantom changed,
Feels every care and thought from war estranged,
Seeks the lost quiet of his native shore,
And mourns the lengthen'd toils, he gloried in before:
Burns with impetuous pleasure's feverish fire,
Or trembles in the tumult of desire.
The drowsy watch a sullen vigil keep,
And scarce oppose the invading hand of sleep.
Ev'n Eric, watchful still, and us'd to bear
His destined weight of military care,
Ev'n Eric feels his soul's wild tumult fled,
And bows to softer sleep his restless head.
Before him visionary glories roll,
And fancied victories dilate his soul.

Here, to complete his task, low-hovering stay'd
The fiend; while, mingling with the nightly shade,

⎧

Intent his generous purpose to fulfil,

⎨

The radiant herald of th' eternal will

⎩

Thro' the wide province flies, and darts from hill to hill.

SONG FOR THE FOURTH BOOK OF GUSTAVUS VASA:

SUPPOSED TO BE HEARD BY A DALECARLIAN HERMIT.

Circling ages swept away
Sweden's kings of ancient sway,
And hid their race from sight:
Circling ages bring again
To that race the long-lost reign,
And Time revokes his flight.
Their star shall rise with brighter beam
From slumbering in the ocean-stream.

Dalecarlia, grasp the spear!
Hail thy great Deliverer near,
To alter Sweden's doom!
Born to raise her darken'd name,
Heir of all her former fame,
And source of all to come,
Past and future glories shine
Centred in the youth divine.

Sweden, rise! I bid thee brave,
Unappall'd, War's dubious wave,
'Till the doom'd period close!
War in vain shall spend his rage,
Prelude to a peaceful age
That shall redress his woes.
Sweden! rouse thy martial band;
'Tis thy Guardian Power's command!

When the slow-emerging sun
First dispels the shadows dun,
And his whole circle rears:
When the north-wind's stormy breath
Shakes the mountain, sweeps the heath,
The clouded ether clears:
Own the signal of the sky!
Hail the great Deliverer nigh!

THE RIVER TICINUS:

FROM THE FOURTH BOOK OF SILIUS ITALICUS.

Cœruleas Ticinus aquas et stagna vadoso
Perspicuus servat turbari nescia fundo,
Ac nitidum viridi latè trahit amne liquorem:
Vix credas labi; ripis tam mitis opacis,
Argutos inter volucrum certamina cantus,
Somniferam ducit lucenti gurgite lympham.

Thro' these fair scenes the smooth Ticinus glides,
And in soft murmurs rolls his slumbering tides:
No mud disturbs the mirror calm and deep;
The clouds upon its stilly bosom sleep:
The varied beauties of the flowery scene
Chequer the azure light, and paint the floods with green.
Scarce seems the wave to roll, so sweetly flows
The tranquil stream, inviting soft repose:
While on its side, in tuneful contest gay,
Their mellow notes the feather'd songsters play.

JUPITER THUNDERING IN DEFENCE OF ROME:

FROM THE TENTH BOOK.

Ipse refulgebat Tarpeiæ culmine rupis,
Elatâ quatiens flagrantia fulmina dextrâ,
Jupiter, ac lati fumabant sulphure campi,
Et gelidis Anio trepidabat cœrulus undis:
Et densi ante oculos iterùmque iterùmque tremendum
Vibrabant ignes....

High on the rock, the God, with furious look,
From side to side his burning thunder shook:
Now here, now there, the scattering lightnings broke,
And the wide vallies flamed, and glowed with sulphurous smoke:
Contagious terror roll'd from plain to plain;
Cold Anio trembled in his watery reign;
And dazzled by the withering flames, o'eraw'd,
The chief shrunk back, and own'd the present God.

FRAGMENT, IN IMITATION OF WALTER SCOTT.

Where are the kings of ancient sway?
Where are the terrors of their day,
The chiefs that with glory bled?
Soon, soon their little sun was o'er;
And, hurried to oblivion's shore,
Their very names are fled!
Yet can the Muse from fate redeem
Her favourites here below;
Can check Time's all-devouring stream
In its eternal flow;
Can catch the quickly-passing beam,
And bid it for ever glow!

The darkly-gathering clouds of night
Had quench'd the red remains of light;
O'er the hill and o'er the plain
She held her dim and shadowy reign,
And the distant billows of the main
In boundless darkness roll'd.
O'er land and sea, it was silence all,
No breezes waved the pine-wood tall,
Or swept the lonely wold:
The murmurs of the lake had died,
The reeds upon its plashy side
No rustling motion felt;
But o'er the world, as life were fled,
As Nature thro' her world were dead,
Portentous stillness dwelt.

On a rock of the sea young Carthon stood,
And his lamp shone faint on the ocean-flood,
As with both his hands he toiled to raise
The seaward beacon's ruddy blaze:
And aye the warrior, far and near,
Explored the dark profound,
And aye the warrior's cautious ear
Was watching every sound;
But the air of night was mirk and dread,
And all was silent around his head.

At length, uncertain murmurs rose
Athwart the billows grey,
Breaking the night-air's still repose,
And deepening on their way:
He beard the dashing of the oar,
And the long surge whitening to the shore;
And now the broad-sailed bark appear'd,
And now to the silvery beach it steer'd,
And anchored in the bay.

"What news, what news of Lochlin's king?"
The Chief of Lona cried:
"Tidings of war and death I bring,"
The ocean-scout replied.
"A dreadful vow has King Haquin vow'd,
To spread in Albin his banners proud,
Disperse o'er forest, field, and fold,
His hundred troops of warriors bold,
'Till every rock with gore shall smoke,
And every castle own the yoke.
The keen remains of recent hate
Yet burn thro' all the Northern state,
And many an age's gather'd ire
With added fury fans the fire.

"'Twas under the shade of dark midnight
They met at his hall, in armour dight,
The king and his chieftains proud;
Their lances at their sides were hung,
And the oak-tree, blazing 'midst the throng,
Across the hall, with flashes long,
A broad uncertain lustre flung,
Like a red and shifting cloud.
'Twas here, to all before concealed,
The Monarch his design revealed.

"Their answering clamours shook the ground,
And Gormul's mountain far around
From all his rocks flung back the sound.
Pierced by the monarch, with struggling yell
A bull at Odin's altar fell;
The priest in a bowl received the gore,
And round the troop the chalice bore.
Eager, as he the wine-cup quaffed,
Each chief caroused the sable draught,—
The pledge of martial faith;
And not a word the stillness broke,
As thus, in turn, each chieftain spoke,
With slow and solemn breath:

"'When the fiery-mantled Sun
Sees the glorious fight began,
He shall see its stubborn course
Burn with unabated force!
Swords shall clatter, javelins sing,
Arrows whistle from the string,
Not a step be turned to flight,
Not a warrior wish for night,
'Till the burning star of day
Quenches his declining ray
In the darkness of the main,
And throughout the purple plain,
Heaped with slaughter, piled with death,
Not a foeman draws his breath.
He who well performs his vow,
Monarch Odin, shield him thou!
He who shrinks from hostile blow,
Hela! scourge the wretch below
In thy ninefold house of woe!'"

"O'er hill and field the war-drum peal'd,
High flamed the beacon-flame,
And each noble peer, from far and near,
To Haquin's standard came.
I saw ten thousand lances gleam
Beneath the winter's swart sun-beam!
They hide old Gormul's snow-capt height,
They hide the craggy dell;
And I hastened thro' the waves of night,
The tidings of war to tell."

THE EXILE:

A POEM.

—Superanda omnis fortuna ferendo est.

'Twas night: the stars denied one cheering ray,
And wrapp'd in clouds the lunar splendours lay.
No lightest zephyr brush'd the silent floods,
Or swept the bosom of the lofty woods:
Each human heart the general calm confess'd;
The childless sire had hush'd his cares to rest:
And he, the victim of his country's laws,
The base deserter of her awful cause,

⎧

Whose eyes no more in earthly sleep shall close,

⎨

Yet sunk oppress'd, and drank in calm repose

⎩

A short, a deep oblivion of his woes.

Diffusing verdure o'er a lonely glade,
A fountain with eternal murmurs play'd:
Hard by, an ancient forest's leafy brow
Cast a brown horror o'er the stream below,
On the green margin of the quiet flood,
With looks of woe, a time-worn Exile stood:
On the dim wave he cast a gloomy look,
Then thus in low and troubled accents spoke:

"Dear native stream! and thou, thrice happy lawn!
Where once I roved, in youth's first joyous dawn,
While every wind a holy silence kept,
And peaceful on the flood the sunbeam slept:
I now return, and ask of your kind wave
The last unenvied gift, a quiet grave!
From scene to scene of varied misery toss'd,
Each hope, each joy, each cheerful prospect lost,
With cares and labours many a year oppress'd,
I hail the dawn of everlasting rest!
Tho' worn with sufferings, my distracted soul
Scarce bows to former reason's firm controul,
Ere yet I sink to death's secure repose,
Once more let me retrace my ancient woes,
And count those various pangs, which now shall cease
In the calm bosom of unchanging peace.

"Smooth roll'd my vernal years, while on my head
Fate's early smiles a meteor-lustre shed.
No painful fear, no troubles, then had power
To break the current of one peaceful hour.
Oft as I trod the meadow's verdant round,
Or pierced the echoing forest's gloomy bound,
Or traced the willowy margin of the stream,
Lost in the wildering maze of Fancy's dream,
Before me Life's long years in prospect rose,
By fears unbroken, undisturb'd by woes.
Yes! I remember well,—my dizzy brain
Feels those bright hours not yet effaced by pain:
Still on my soul they cast a distant light,
And gild with transitory gleams the night!

"Yet then, ev'n then, the powers of fate below
Prepared for me their gather'd stores of woe:
The tempest watch'd to blot my peaceful day,
And silent in their beds the thunders lay!

"Short was my date of joy: the yawning tomb
Snatch'd my loved parents to eternal gloom.
With fearful awe my shuddering soul survey'd
The untried path of misery display'd,
Gazed wild upon Misfortune's unknown form,
And watch'd the coming terrors of the storm.

"Soon burst the cloud, and far away was borne
The last faint gleam of Life's deceitful morn.
For fancied crimes expell'd my native shore,
And doom'd alone to measure ocean o'er,
I left those scenes where joy for ever reigns,
Secure to find her on no other plains.

"Dark rose the morn: the wind in every wood
Howl'd, and the meteors glancing o'er the flood
Flash'd a portentous light. Before the gale
With streaming eyes I spread my little sail:
Swift o'er the sounding waves the vessel flew,
Cliff after cliff receding from my view:
Chill ran my heart—the swelling sails I furl'd,
While yet emerging from the watery world

⎧

One headland rose—O'er all the boundless main.

⎨

I cast my shuddering view—I wept in vain—

⎩

I wrung my hands in agonizing pain:
O'er my dim eyes increasing darkness hung,
No low, faint murmurs, trembled on my tongue,
A deadly torpor every limb oppress'd,
Weak were my sinews, and unmann'd my breast:
When lo! a voice, that struck my inmost heart,
Seem'd, thro' the wavering storm, to cry, 'Depart!'
Trembling with awe, I turn'd my aching view,
And spread the flying sail, and o'er the billows flew.

"On foreign shores, to poverty resign'd,
An exile, friendless and alone, I pined.
Hope and Content inspired my toils no more;
Alas! I left them on my native shore!
Stern Want around me pour'd her chilling woes,
And no faint beam, to cheer my winter, rose.

"At length, when years, with slow-revolving round,
Had half assuaged my soul's eternal wound,
And rural peace my humble efforts bless'd
With one short calm of momentary rest;

⎧

Sudden, the demons of tyrannic war

⎨

Whirl thro' our peaceful haunts his rapid car,

⎩

And waving standards kindle all the air:
In crackling heaps the flaming forests rise,
The smoking cities darken half the skies.
Thro' burning woods and falling towers I sprung,
While torches hiss'd, and darts around me sung,
And, still expectant of some happier time,
Sought distant refuge in another clime.

"My term of sorrows came not: black Despair,
And lawless Force, and shrinking Fear, were there.
Woes, yet unfelt, were nigh;—fell Slavery shed
Her night of sorrows on my hapless head:
Doom'd each imperious order to fulfil,
And watch a ruthless master's various will.
Five years, exposed to unremitted pain,
I languish'd there—'till Friendship broke my chain.

⎧

"Now o'er my head full fifteen suns had burn'd,

⎨

Since from my native rocks my eyes I turn'd:

⎩

And practised now in woe, my soul no longer mourn'd.
I sought my patron, and (a bark supplied)
His fortunes follow'd o'er the foamy tide.

"From these dire shores our rapid course we held;
Auspicious gales the flying canvas swell'd;
And joy's faint sunshine kindled in my eyes,
As the last mountain mingled with the skies:
When, by conflicting winds together driven,
A night of clouds involved the starless heaven;
Fierce and more fierce th' increasing tempest blew,
The thunder rattled, and the lightning flew.
Soon, borne at random o'er the watery way,
The yawning rocks our guideless ship betray;
My shrieking comrades sink.—Some power unseen
Preserved me, trembling, thro' the deathful scene;
I rode th' opposing waves, and from the steep
Beheld the vessel plunge into the flashing deep.

"Beneath a sheltering wood all night I lay,
'Till morn had chased the flying stars away;
Then sought the wave-worn strand.—The storm was dead;
And Silence o'er the deep her pinions spread.
All—all were gone!—I saw my doom severe;
And, dull with suffering, scarcely dropp'd a tear!

"There, by the murmurs of the sea's hoarse wave,
Scorch'd on the rock, or shivering in the cave,
Long, long I stay'd: Fate yet prolong'd my day,
And Grief and Famine spared their willing prey.
A roving bark at length approach'd, and bore
The suppliant stranger to fair India's shore.

"With wondering steps I traced the sunny strand,
And mark'd each giant work of nature's hand;
Saw towering oaks th' aërial tempest brave,
And mighty rivers roll the sea-like wave.
Amaze, unmix'd with joy, my soul possess'd;
What beauteous scene can charm an Exile's breast?
Sadly I saw primeval forests frown,
And, in each foreign stream, still sought my own.

"No bright success my rising labours crown'd;
The sunbeam wither'd, or the deluge drown'd,
Each growing hope: my frame seem'd worn with care,
And Death still hover'd in the feverish air.
Stern Famine o'er my solitary gate
Spread her cold wings, and watch'd in sullen state.
Life yet was dear—Each visionary night
Restored my ancient dwelling to my sight;
And every gale, that swept the valley o'er,
Appear'd to point me to my native shore.

"Soon as the morning waved her banner red,
With bounding heart the winged sail I spread.
Again the tempest roars, the meteors play,
And struggling clouds repel the rising ray.
Yet nought disturb'd my unprophetic soul;
Resign'd to joy, impatient of control,
I seem'd new-born: Creative Hope again
Restored the sense of pleasure, and of pain;
Tumultuous transport, now no more suppressed,
Shone from my eyes, and wanton'd in my breast.

"Soon did the storm subside: before the breeze
Smooth flew the boat, across the summer seas.
The brightening sunbeam on the waters danced,
From the blue clouds a stream of radiance glanced.

"As the fleet swallow, eager to attain
Her well-known regions, scuds o'er land and main;
So, wing'd with hope, I flew: my eager sail
Stemm'd many a sea, and waved in many a gale,
While, ardent still one object to pursue,
I shunn'd the rock, and thro' the tempest flew:
And still, with rapture's mingled tear and smile,
Mark'd, as it pass'd, each dim receding isle.
From each fair view my swimming eyes declined,
And fairer views rose imaged in my mind.

"Swift o'er the waves I flew; and many a day
On the smooth wings of joy had roll'd away,
When, half-discover'd 'mid the clouds of night,
My native cliffs rose beauteous to my sight.
With beating heart I furl my sail, and sweep
With rapid oar the smooth-dividing deep.
The well-known bay a ready entrance gave,
And safe return'd me from the stormy wave.

"Now Night, advancing up th'etherial plain,
Drew slowly her broad veil o'er land and main.
With falling tears I bathed the sacred ground,
And thro' the viewless darkness gazed around:
But air's blank waste deceived my ardent sight;
The hills were dark, the rivers roll'd in night.
Yet swift imagination, uncontroll'd,
Ranged o'er the scene, and tinged it all with gold.
'And here,' I cried, 'amid this piny grove,
In winter's morn my lonely steps shall rove;
And there, beneath yon' poplar's silver shade,
At summer noon my weary limbs be laid.
Yon azure stream, that parts the fruitful scene,
Shall see my cottage on its banks of green,
Long-cherish'd friends shall charm each livelong day,
And jocund children, more beloved than they:
My sun thro' ambient clouds shall set more fair,
And thirty years of grief be lost in air.
Oh, happy long-lost land! once more receive
Thy time-worn Exile, and his cares relieve!'

"The gathered mists roll'd slowly from the lawn,
And fading stars announced the silent dawn:
A hill, that tower'd above the bounded heath,
I climb'd, and gazed upon the scene beneath.
The beams of morning woke no living eye
Amid this vast and cheerless vacancy:
They only pour'd their ineffectual light
On a bleak prospect, better hid in night!
Where'er I look'd, outstretch'd in long survey,
A huge unmeasured waste of ruins lay.
War's fiery steps had mark'd the beauteous scene,
And mingled ravage show'd where death had been,
The fallen cottage, and the mouldering tower—
A dreary monument of wrathful power!
The stream that once, diffused in lucid pride,
Saw towers, and woods, and hamlets, on its side,
Now choked with weeds, in mossy fragments lost,
Dragg'd a slow current o'er the mournful coast.
My friends, my foes, were fled—not one of all
Remain'd, to see his country's hapless fall!
O'er the wild plain the useless zephyrs blow,
And wasted suns unprofitably glow.
This ancient forest now remain'd alone:—
Beneath its shade I sat me down to moan;

⎧

Resign'd to dumb despair, without a tear,

⎨

Prostrate I lay, or slowly wander'd, here,

⎩

And, wandering, thought upon the things that were:
'Till crowding thoughts a sudden lustre flung,
And my wild heart with desperate hope was strung.

"Hence, vain regrets! unmanly tears, away!
'Tis time to close my melancholy day.
Smiling with peace, or brilliant with delight,
Eternity lies open to my sight.
I go, a fearless soul, unstain'd by crimes,
To seek the rest denied in earthly climes.

"Ye righteous Powers, whoe'er ye are, who guide
Earth's changeful tumult, and its cares divide;
Who rule mankind with absolute decree,
And grace the bless'd with good, unknown to me:

⎧

To you I pray not: Your afflicting hand

⎨

Has given the sign to quit this earthly strand:

⎩

I bow with joy to your implied command!
Yes—in the bosom of eternal fate
Some real joys, perhaps, my soul await:
Some peace may yet be mine—some powerful rock,
Unmoved by terror, or misfortune's shock;
Some vale of calmness, some sequester'd shore,
Where hope, and fear, and sorrow, are no more.

"My soul, thro' endless ages doom'd to live,
A quenchless flame, must every sphere survive:
Whence, then, these sorrows in her mortal times;
Chain'd down to woe, ere yet involved in crimes?
This cloud unpierced, that darkens all her way?
Is this the dawn of an eternal day?—
Death, death alone, can chase th' unfathom'd gloom,
And light the mazes of my doubtful doom!"

He spoke; and gazing on the watery grave.
Approach'd with tranquil step the fatal wave,
Where the green verge with easy slope descends,
And, rippling on the sand, the water ends.
When lo! some power, with deep resistless force,
Check'd his firm soul, and stopp'd his fearless course;
He felt its languid influence thro' his breast,
And, stretch'd in sleep, the grassy margin press'd;
His weary soul to balmy rest resign'd,
And fancy bore these visions to his mind.

On a broad bank, alone, he seem'd to stand,
Whose flowery limit closed a spacious land.
Around, the cultured plains appeared to glow
With various hues: a river roll'd below:
Unvex'd by storms, the tranquil waters ran:
On heaven's blue verge calm shines the mounting sun.
As waken'd from a dream of woe, amazed,
On woods, and skies, and murmuring streams, he gazed:
Calm, silent raptures flow'd thro' all his breast,
And seem'd the foretaste of eternal rest.

His eye, now settled, mark'd a little boat,
Which on the nearest waves appear'd to float:
Its airy sail with snow-white radiance blazed;
Its blue prow tinged the waters.—As he gazed,
Lo! the clouds opened, and with sudden glare
A dazzling form descended thro' the air.
Swift as a sea-bird darting o'er the deep,
Or meteor hovering with aërial sweep,
He flew, and lighting radiant on the helm,
Cast a bright shadow o'er the watery realm.
He waved his hand; the Exile took the sign,
Embark'd, and join'd the messenger divine.

Smooth o'er the liquid plain the vessel steers;
A faint-reflected sun on every wave appears.
Swift o'er the stream it steers: on either side,
In murmurs low th' advancing waves divide.
Thro' cloudless skies the radiant orb of day,
Enthroned in light, held on his heavenly way;
A line of light along the ocean streams,
The white sails glisten in the golden beams.
Still, as they roll, the river's waters lave
With ceaseless flow the lily of the wave:
The willow-forests on its verdant side
Bathe their green tresses in the crystal tide:
The bending alders paint the floods, and seem
A waving curtain o'er the glassy stream.
Thro' the wide clouds and thro' the watery way
Calm Light and Silence held their boundless sway.

Now vanish'd from their eyes the lessening shore,
And nearer grew the ocean's sullen roar:
And when the sun-heaven's topmost dome had scaled,
The green-tinged waters of the deep they sailed.
The orb of day, faint-glittering from afar,
Now veil'd in gradual gloom his beamy car:
A hollow murmur thro' the blackening skies,
Rolls dismal on, and loudens as it flies:
The watery birds fly screaming from the steep,
And darkness settles on the shivering deep.
The wondering Exile, from the deck, beheld
The tempest grow, and clouds on clouds impell'd:
Far to the south their dusky legions bend,
And thence o'er heaven a gloomy line extend.
He heard th' approaching tempest's hollow sigh,
And cold despondence trembled in his eye—
And lo, it bursts! the boundless whirlwinds sweep,
Toss the light clouds, and tear the staggering deep
Sheer from its lowest caves—the smoking rain
Bursts in white torrents o'er the echoing main:
The fiery bolts uninterrupted roll
From sky to sky, and shake the stedfast pole:
Red volleying o'er the heavens with curving beam
The fitful lightnings dart a quivering gleam,
And, glancing thro' the raven plumes of night,
Shed o'er the deep a pale sepulchral light.

Swift to the Power unknown his eyes he rear'd—
No sign of comfort in the Power appear'd:
Silent he stood—when lo! another blast
Rends the strong sail, and shakes the tottering mast!
Now, by the mounting billows upward swung,
Trembling amid the darksome sky they hung;
Now seem'd to touch the fountains of the deep,
Where in eternal rest the waters sleep.
And now beneath a milder tempest's sway
Onward the rapid vessel bounds away;
When, lo! again—as if with thundering fall
Descended to the deep heaven's loosen'd wall,
Yells the fierce storm: beneath the furious shock,
Torn from its roots, the long-resisting rock
Falls prone; the sands, driven by the whirling sweep,
Boil up, and darken the discolour'd deep.

Still o'er the stormy waste they labour on,
Thro' bowling deserts and thro' paths unknown—
A long, long way! the lightnings flame around,
And winds and billows mix their mournful sound.
Still on they fare—'till thro' the ambient night
Bursts a third whirlwind with redoubled might;
The congregated clouds in one vast sweep
It drives, and bares the bosom of the deep.
The sail flies loose, the mast in fragments torn
O'er the black surface of the waves is borne
Louder, and longer, over heaven's wide field
Thro' the rent clouds the bellowing thunders peal'd:
In one blue sheet the streamy lightnings glare;
A thousand demons ride the flaming air,
O'er the dark waves a deeper horror cast,
And howl between the pauses of the blast.
And now 'twas silence all—a sulphurous smell
Spread round: a cloud arose with sudden swell;
Slow o'er the ocean's trembling waves it past,
And from its bosom, indistinct and vast,
A giant form advanced across the gloom
Of air, and pointed to the watery tomb.

Shuddering with fear, he turn'd.—His guide was gone;
A broad chaotic cloud appear'd alone.
His limbs no more their chilly weight sustained,
A deathlike torpor o'er his bosom reign'd,
His stony eyeballs fix'd in silent trance
Met the terrific Spectre's withering glance.
And lo! the Phantom waves, with sudden glare,
His burning sceptre thro' the starless air!
High o'er the bark the booming billows spread,
The deafening waves were closing o'er his head;
When rushing clouds the towering form involved,
And all the vision into air dissolved.
Like mist that flits before the solar car,
Or the wan splendours of a falling star,
The scene dispers'd; and at his side, return'd,
The heavenly Guide in all his radiance burn'd.

A smile, with love and calm affection fraught,
The Seraph gave, as by the hand he caught
Th' admiring Exile: then the earth forsook,
And thro' dividing clouds his easy journey took.

Above the skies on silent wings upborne,
They seek the quarter of the rising morn,
And, wheeling thro' the stars their level flight,
On a tall mountain's cloudless top alight.

Beneath, a boundless realm in prospect lay;
Fair as the regions of perpetual day
Wide stretch'd the peaceful vale. A brighter sun
Thro' purer skies his azure course begun,
And, uneclips'd, along th' etherial road
A host of stars with rival splendours glow'd.
Far to the west, with dewy spangles gay,
Long tracts of meads reflect the orient ray;
Collected fragrance breathes in every gale,
And harvests nod on every yellow dale.
The southern plain a lordly city crown'd:
Its ample range with marble turrets frown'd.
The golden spires with pointed radiance glow'd;
From tower to tower the pure effulgence flow'd.
The lofty gates for ever open stood,
And o'er the region pour'd a living flood.
Their dusky sides by piny groves conceal'd,
A range of snow-capp'd hills the north reveal'd:
Amidst the dark-brow'd woods with murmurs hoarse
A thousand torrents took their foamy course.
The eastern limit show'd a spacious bay;
Blue Ocean redden'd in the morning ray:
Reflected lustre crown'd the chalky steep,
And stately navies darkened half the deep.
From the tall hill, beneath the sunny beam,
Three rivers, issuing, pour a various stream,
Now thro' the lawns in parted currents glide,
And now, uniting, spread an equal tide.
Unnumber'd tints the forest-boughs unfold,
And the bright waters seem to roll in gold.

Successive wonders on the Exile's breast
A visionary strange amaze impress'd;
New hopes, new fears, his trembling bosom throng,
Doubt follows doubt, and thought drives thought along.
When now the Angel, with that awful grace,
That waits on spirits of celestial race,
On the pale mortal lost in dark surprize,
Fix'd the keen radiance of his sun-like eyes:
Mild were his looks: yet, when his accents flow'd,
It seem'd as thunder shook the bursting cloud.

"Beneath the weight of earthly evil bent,
In varied toils and woes thy days were spent;
'Till cold Misfortune, with unceasing lower,
Weigh'd down thy soul, and deaden'd every power,
Reflection's lamp withdrew her guiding ray,
And fail'd to point thee on thy darkling way,
And thy wild soul prepared to launch alone
From Night's dark bosom into worlds unknown:
When, sent by Heaven thy earthly deeds to guide,
And o'er thy term of varied life preside,
I check'd thy course: and Providence by me
Unfolds her secret train of destiny.

"Oh, ignorant! to deem thyself the first
Of mortals with unmingled troubles curs'd!
Thou hast not yet the height of woe attain'd,
Nor every cup of human sorrow drain'd.

⎧

Thy path of suffering has been trod alone;

⎨

No following friend, no consort, hast thou known,

⎩

To double all thy sorrows with their own:
No artful foe has doom'd thy humble name
To public enmity, or public shame;
And last, and worst of all, the pangs of woe
Hell can inflict, or vengeful Heaven bestow,
Relentless Conscience has not shed on thee
Her poison'd darts,—her stings of misery!
Thy virtue shone thro' the dim vale of earth,
And toils and dangers proved thy blameless worth.
For this, my hand its timely aid bestow'd
To draw thee back from error's devious road.

"All, all are equal: Heaven's impartial mind
One bliss, one woe allots to all mankind:
And he whose morn seem'd wrapp'd in cloudy night,
Shall see his evening glow with placid light.
Thro' calm prosperity's serenest sky
The approaching gales of adverse fortune sigh;
And when Affliction whets her keenest dart,
And hurls it, flaming, at the shrinking heart,
Celestial Hope with golden wing attends,
Heals every wound, and every toil befriends:
The horrors vanish; gleams of light divine
Illume the cloud, and thro' its openings shine;
As the bow, herald of ethereal peace,
Smiles thro' the storm, and makes the tempest please.

"To sway the whirlwind, gathering clouds control,
Arrest the sun, or shake with storms the pole,
Heaven gives to none:—nor have the mightiest power
To stop the current of one changeful hour:
Resistless Fate with even course proceeds,
And o'er their levell'd pomp her thundering chariot leads.
But all can solace their afflicted mind
With temperate wishes, and a will resign'd,
Can cheer the sad, improve the prosperous hour,
With meek Humility, and Virtue's power:
With these, terrestrial pleasures never cloy,
And fear is lost in peace, and sorrow turns to joy.

"Yet oft' the brave resisting soul, like thee,
At random borne across Life's wintery sea,
When various tempests, with successive force,
Still drive her devious from her destined course,
With labour worn, at last the helm resigns,
And in deep anguish at her lot repines;
Despair throws round impenetrable gloom,
And Death invites her to the ready tomb.

"Let faithful Memory tell (for Memory can)
How thy first years in even current ran;
How every pleasure, every good, combined
To feast with countless sweets thy tranquil mind:
Each passing joy a kindred joy pursued,
Nor ask'd the aid of sad vicissitude.
Swift flew thy boat, thro' isles with verdure crown'd,
Heaven's smile above, and prosperous seas around:
O'er the smooth waves Hope's cheering zephyr pass'd,
And every wave seem'd smoother than the last.

"Soon fled those halcyon days. The storm began;
From pole to pole the doubling thunder ran.
Yet still with patient toil I saw thee urge
Thy fearless passage o'er the gloomy surge;
Still Faith discern'd the harbour of repose,
And panting Hope look'd forward to the close.

"As vapours, slowly thickening, blot away,
Beam after beam, the sacred orb of day;
So woes on woes in long continuance blind
The sense, and blunt the vigour of the mind;
'Till, by some sudden gust of misery cross'd,
On the mad ocean of despondence toss'd,
Reason herself, once bold, acute, and strong,
No more discerns the bounds of right and wrong:
Lost, in the mist of fear, her Heavenly Guide,
She deems all efforts vain, and sinks beneath the tide.

"But shrink not thou from earth's malignant power!
Hope builds on high an everlasting tower;
And strength divine supports the suffering good,
As lasting ramparts break the torrent-flood.

"Sustain'd by this, with resolute control
The Mental Hero curbs his struggling soul,
Bids with new fire his pure affections glow,
And calls his lingering wishes from below.
Refined by slow degrees, his passions rise,
Soar from the earth, and gain upon the skies.
A light, unbought by all the joys of Sin,
Cheers his wide soul, and brightens all within:
And, though mankind his pious peace molest,
And mock the sigh that struggles half suppress'd;
Tho', leagued with man, the hostile powers of hell
Bid round his head the maddening tempest swell;
For ever fix'd on worlds beyond the pole,
Nought else can move his heaven-directed soul.
'Tis his with tearless fortitude to feel
The bigot fury of a tyrant's steel;
'Tis his with cool untempted eye to gaze
On Wealth's bright pomp, and Beauty's brighter blaze:
And, as the stream its equal current leads
Thro' dusky forests and thro' flowery meads,
Serene he treads Misfortune's thorny soil,
Nor on surrounding pleasures wastes a smile—
Whate'er events the tide of time may swell,
His only care, to act or suffer well.
What tho' malignant foes innumerous scowl,
Tho' mortals hiss, and fiends around him howl?
Yet, higher powers, the guardians of his life,
With sacred transport watch the godlike strife;
Yet Heaven, with all her thousand eyes, looks down,
And binds her martyr with a deathless crown.

"When the last pang the struggling spirit sends
Far from the circle of his mourning friends,
And, bathed with many a tear, the hallow'd bust
Protects the mouldering body of the just;
Oh! with what rapture, mounting, he descries
Scenes of unutterable glory rise,
With trembling hope bows to his heavenly Lord,
And hears with awful joy th' absolving word!
Oh! with what speed he flies, dismiss'd to stray
Thro' the vast regions of eternal day;
Creation's various wonders to explore,
A radiant sea of light, without a shore!
Then, too, that spark of intellectual fire
Which burn'd thro' life, and never shall expire,
Which, oft' on earth deplored its bounded view,
And still from sphere to sphere excursive flew,
The mind, upborne on intuition's wings,
Thro' Truth's bright regions, momentary, springs,
And, piercing at one view the maze of fate,
Smiles at the darkness of her former state!

"The varied pleasures of yon' smiling plain
Would feebly image Joy's eternal reign.
As that bright prospect, still to beauty true,
Presents new charms at every varied view,
Here towns and waving forests rise reveal'd,
There the blue deep, and here the golden field;
Such and so boundless are the joys decreed
To those, whom Truth from all their chains has freed.
Nor time shall limit, nor dull space control
The winged motions of th' immortal soul.
From star to star to spread her restless wing,
Learn each dread law, and trace each mighty spring;
To mix with angels, and renew the hours
Of earthly friendship in celestial bowers;
The Source of All, undazzled, to survey,
His triumphs join, and his commands obey:—
To span Futurity with raptured sight,
Age after age interminably bright,
While with one tranquil all-enlightening beam,
The past, the present, and the future gleam:—
Still, as the joyful ages run their race,
Progressive glories ripening as they pass,
With new perfections, new desires, to shine,
Her will reflected by the will divine:—
To see new suns arise, and see their flame
Lost and extinct in night, herself the same:—
Such the soul's hopes; and such the blessings given
To Virtue's sons,—the brightest stars of heaven!

"Oft, ev'n on earth, by Heaven's unfathom'd doom,
She breaks thro' her dark fortune's circling gloom,
And thro' the dim-dissolving cloud of woe
Refulgent mounts, and gilds the world below.
Pale Envy pines, and sickens in the dust,
And gazing nations learn that Heaven is just.

"Such are the truths thy vision would relate,
And such the secret of thy doubtful fate.

"Go, then—thy God has fix'd thy future doom,
And light and transient are thy woes to come:
Those sorrows past, ev'n Earth has joys in store;
And Heaven expects thee on her happy shore.
Go—and, by chilling grief no more oppress'd,
Hold firm thy heart—to stand, is to be bless'd!"

Quick-glancing from his sight the Seraph sped,
And all the dream in gay confusion fled.
Soft o'er the wave the summer-breezes sigh'd,
The moon play'd quivering on the restless tide.
He rose, and now with new ideas fraught,
Revolv'd the vision in his alter'd thought;
An eye of meek contrition upward cast,
And stretch'd in lonely prayer, bewail'd the past;
Traced all his years, and with a tranquil eye
Exulting scann'd his promised destiny;
Then steer'd his bark, with Providence his guide,
To realms unknown, and oceans yet untried.