THE ST. LAWRENCE AND THE SAGUENAY
I.
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There is but one to whom my hopes are clinging |
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As clings the bee unto the morning flower, | |||
There is but one to whom my thoughts are winging | |||
Their dove-like passage through each silent hour: | |||
One who has made my heart her summer bower. | 5 | ||
Feeling and passion there forever bloom | |||
For her, who, by her love's mysterious power, | |||
Dispels the languor of my spirit's gloom, | |||
And lifts my dead heart up, like Lazarus from the tomb. | |||
II.
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Maiden! from whose large, intellectual eyes, |
10 | ||
My
soul first drank love's immortality, Plume
my weak spirit for its chosen skies, 'T
would falter in its mission without thee. Conduct
its flight; and if its musings be Oft'ner of earth than heaven, bear awhile |
15 | ||
With
what is native to mortality: It dare not err exulting in thy smile: |
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Look on it with thine eyes, and keep it free from guile. |
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III.
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The
bark leaps love-fraught from the land; the sea Lies calm before us. Many an isle is there, |
20 | ||
Clad with soft verdure; many a stately tree Uplifts
its leafy branches through the air; The
amorous current bathes the islets fair, As
we skip, youth-like, o'er the limpid waves; White cloudlets speck the golden atmosphere, |
25 | ||
Through which the passionate sun looks down, and graves |
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His image on the pearls that boil from the deep caves, |
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And
bathe the vessel's prow. Isle after isle Is
passed, as we glide tortuously through The opening vistas, that uprise and smile |
30 | ||
Upon
us from the ever-changing view. Here
nature, lavish of her wealth, did strew Her
flocks of panting islets on the breast Of
the admiring River, where they grew, Like shapes of Beauty, formed to give a zest |
35 | ||
To the charmed mind, like waking Visions of the Blest. |
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V.
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The
silver-sinewed arms of the proud Lake, Love-wild,
embrace each islet tenderly, The
zephyrs kiss the flowers when they wake At morn, flushed with a rare simplicity; |
40 | ||
See
how they bloom around yon birchen tree, And
smile along the bank, by the sandy shore, In
lovely groups--a fair community! The embossed rocks glitter like golden ore, |
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And here, the o'erarching trees form a fantastic bower. |
45 | ||
VI.
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Red
walls of granite rise on either hand, Rugged
and smooth; a proud young eagle soars Above
the stately evergreens, that stand Like
watchful sentinels on these God-built towers; And near yon beds of many-colored flowers |
50 | ||
Browse
two majestic deer, and at their side A
spotted fawn all innocently cowers; In the rank brushwood it attempts to hide, |
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While the strong-antlered stag steps forth with lordly stride, |
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VII.
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And slakes his thirst, undaunted, at the stream. |
55 | ||
Isles
of o'erwhelming beauty! surely here The wild enthusiast might live, and dream |
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His life away. No Nymphic trains appear, |
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To charm the pale Ideal Worshipper |
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Of Beauty; nor Nereids from the deeps below; |
60 | ||
Nor hideous Gnomes, to fill the breast with fear; |
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But crystal streams through endless landscapes flow, |
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And o'er the clustering Isles the softest breezes blow. |
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LYRIC TO THE ISLES.
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Here the Spirit of Beauty keepeth |
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Jubilee for evermore; |
65 | ||
Here the Voice of Gladness leapeth, |
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Echoing from shore to shore. |
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O'er the hidden watery valley, |
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O'er each buried wood and glade, |
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Dances our delighted galley, |
70 | ||
Through the sunlight and the shade-- |
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Dances o'er the granite cells, |
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Where the Soul of Beauty dwells:
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Here the flowers are ever springing, |
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While the summer breezes blow; |
75 | ||
Here the hours are ever clinging, |
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Loitering before they go; |
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Playing round each beauteous islet, |
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Loath to leave the sunny shore, |
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Where, upon her couch of violet, |
80 | ||
Beauty sits for evermore-- |
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Sits and smiles by day and night, |
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Hand in hand with pure Delight. |
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Here the Spirit of Beauty dwelleth |
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In each palpitating tree, |
85 | ||
In each amber wave that welleth |
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From its home, beneath the sea; |
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In the moss upon the granite, |
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In each calm, secluded bay, |
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With the zephyr trains that fan it |
90 | ||
With their sweet breaths all the day-- |
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On the waters, on the shore, |
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Beauty dwelleth evermore! |
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VIII.
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Yes, here the Genius of Beauty truly dwells. |
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I worship Truth and Beauty in my soul. |
95 | ||
The pure and prismatic globule that upwells |
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From the blue deep; the psalmy waves that roll |
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Before the hurricane; the outspread scroll |
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Of heaven, with its written tomes of stars; |
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The dew-drop on the leaf: These I extol, |
100 | ||
And all alike--each one a Spirit-Mars, |
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Guarding my Victor-Soul above Earth's prison bars. |
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IX.
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There was a stately Maiden once, who made | |||
These Isles her home. Oft has her lightsome skiff | |||
Toyed with the waters; and the velvet glade, | 105 | ||
The shadowy woodland, and the granite cliff, | |||
Joyed at her footsteps. Here the Brigand Chief, | |||
Her father, lived, an outlaw. Her soul's pride | |||
Was ministering to his wants. In brief, | |||
The wildest midnight she would cross the tide, | 110 | ||
Full of a daughter's love, to hasten to his side. | |||
X.
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Queen of the Isles! she well deserved the name: | |||
In look, in action, in repose a Queen! | |||
Some Poet-Muse may yet hand down to fame | |||
Her woman's courage, and her classic mien; | 115 | ||
Some Painter's skill immortalize the scene, | |||
And blend with it that Maiden's history; | |||
Some Sculptor's hand from the rough marble glean | |||
An eloquent Thought, whose truthfulness shall be | |||
The expounder of her worth and moral dignity. | 120 | ||
XI.
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On, through the lovely Archipelago, | |||
Glides the swift bark. Soft summer matins ring | |||
From every isle. The wind fowl come and go, | |||
Regardless of our presence. On the wing, | |||
And perched upon the boughs, the gay birds sing | 125 | ||
Their loves: This is their summer paradise; | |||
From morn till night their joyous caroling | |||
Delights the ear, and through the lucent skies | |||
Ascends the choral hymn in softest symphonies. | |||
XII.
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The Spring is gone--light, genial-hearted Spring! | 130 | ||
Whose breath gives odor to the violet, | |||
Crimsons the wild rose, tints the blackbird's wing, | |||
Unfolds the buttercup. Spring that has set | |||
To music the laughter of the rivulet, | |||
Sent warm pulsations through the hearts of hills, | 135 | ||
Reclothed the forests, made the valleys wet | |||
With pearly dew, and waked the grave old mills | |||
From their calm sleep, by the loud rippling of the rills. | |||
XIII.
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Long years ago the early Voyageurs | |||
Gladdened these wilds with some romantic air; | 140 | ||
The moonlight, dancing on their dripping oars, | |||
Showed the slow batteaux passing by with care, | |||
Impelled by rustic crews, as debonnair | |||
As ever struck pale Sorrow dumb with Song: | |||
Many a dropping spirit longed to share | 145 | ||
Their pleasant melodies, that swept among | |||
The echo-haunted woods, in accents clear and strong. | |||
XIV.
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See, we have left the Islands far behind, | |||
And pass into a calm, pellucid Lake. | |||
Merrily dance the billows! for the wind | 150 | ||
Rises all fresh and healthful in our wake, | |||
Up start large flocks of waterfowl, that shake | |||
The spray from their glossed plumage, as they fly | |||
To seek the shelter of some island brake; | |||
Now like dark clouds they seem against the sky, | 155 | ||
So vast the numbers are that pass us swiftly by. | |||
XV.
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Merrily
dance the billows! Cheerily leaps Our
fearless bark!--it loves to skim the sea, The
River and the Lake, when o'er them sweeps The swift unwearied billow fearlessly. |
160 | ||
Stretches
its spotless sail!--it tightens--see! How
the wind curves the waters all around, Ploughing
into their bosoms fitfully. Hark to the tempest's dismal shriek! its bound, |
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Like to an earthquake, makes the river's depths resound. | 165 | ||
XVI.
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Through
the dense air the terror-stricken clouds Fly,
tortured by the pursuing hurricane. Fast
bound the milky billows--the white shrouds That
wind around the mariner on the main. Nay, shrink not, dark-eyed one! they weave no chain |
170 | ||
For
us--we're free! Ha! ha! our gallant bark Spurns
the white wave with eloquent disdain; She laughs to scorn the waters wild and dark, |
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She revels in the Storm, the Tempest loves to mark. | |||
XVII.
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Hoarsely reverberates the thunder loud | 175 | ||
Through
the charged air. The fiery lightnings leap Forth,
from their mystic dwelling in the cloud; Electric
shafts through all the heavens sweep, And
penetrate the surface of the deep, Like flaming arrows from the bow of wrath, |
180 | ||
Shot
down some dark and cloud-pavilioned steep; Each
red-hot bolt the fearful power hath |
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To scatter blight and death along its burning path. |
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XVIII.
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A wild joy fills my overburdened brain. | |||
My ears drink from each thunder peal. | 185 | ||
I glory in the lightings and the rain. | |||
There is no joy like this! With thee to feel | |||
And share each impulse, makes my spirit kneel. | |||
Sing to me, love! my heart is painted with bliss! | |||
Thy voice alone can quicken and unseal | 190 | ||
The inner depths of feeling. Grant me this: | |||
Flood me with Song, and loose the founts of Happiness. | |||
HYMN TO THE LIGHTNING.
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Oh! mighty, Oh! mysterious One! |
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Thou willest, and the lightnings fly, |
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Flame-winged and silent, through the sky, |
195 | ||
Outglowing the exultant sun. |
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Along the hills reverberates |
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The eloquent, sonorous bass, |
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Shaking the earth from place to place, |
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Then heavenward to Thy temple gates, |
200 | ||
Where every whisper, every tone |
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Of music, from the earth, rolls in, |
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Whether from putrid lips of sin, |
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Or girdled by a prayerful zone. |
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Thy Voice is in the thunder cloud, |
205 | ||
The Presence in the lightning's fire-- |
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Breathings of an Almighty Ire, |
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That wraps the heavens in a shroud |
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Of blinding light, before whose heat |
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The granite mountains melt away, |
210 | ||
The finite Man falls down to pray |
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For mercy at his Maker's feet. |
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How Vast art Thou! how minute he!-- |
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A human tissue which a breath |
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Can hurl from quickest life to death-- |
215 | ||
An atom to Immensity. |
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Oh! wondrous Power! Oh! strength Divine! |
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Oh! weak and insignific Man!-- |
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Weak here, but in the After-plan |
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Not less eterne than Thee and Thine! |
220 | ||
XIX.
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Mysterious
power of Song! the lips of Love Make
mellower music than a thousand strings Of
harps. 'Mine eyes my grosser thoughts remove, But
thy sweet voice doth give my spirit wings, As up the air melodious whisperings, |
225 | ||
Ethereal
harmonies, divinely low, Float,
like the echoes which the morning flings From the pleased valleys--hymns that upward flow, |
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Warming the purple hills with praises as they go. | |||
XX.
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Hast thou not heard upon a summer's eve | 230 | ||
The
musical pulsations of the air? The
voices of the mountain pines, that weave Their
low complainings with the atmosphere? Thus,
throughout Nature, floating everywhere, Eternal symphonies, low, rich and deep, |
235 | ||
Pass
from her Poet-lips. Her children hear And treasure up these lyrics, as they sweep |
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With Zephyrus through the air, or visit them in sleep. | |||
XXI.
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First,
the sweet Idyls from the shepherd vales, Where Peace and rural Happiness abide; |
240 | ||
Bird-hymns
and wild rejoicings in the dales, Where
the swart Peasant cheers his rustic Bride; Anthems
from solitary plains that glide To
where the death-dirge wails along the sea; Low chantings from the stars, and far and wide |
245 | ||
The Minstrel Breezes, meeting playfully, |
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Rehearse their wanderings in Canzonet and Glee: |
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XXII.
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While the deep forest rolls its Psalmody | |||
Of Voices from its music-haunted aisles; | |||
And the strong Choruses leap joyfully | 250 | ||
From hill to hill, or where the sunlight smiles | |||
Upon the mountain summits, tinging miles | |||
Of clouded crag and heaven-tinted air; | |||
Last, the winged Tempest, from the long defiles | |||
Emerging, like a Lyric God, to share | 255 | ||
The genial Feast of Sounds that roused him from his lair. | |||
XXIII.
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The Spirits of the Storm are all abroad; | |||
Of various natures, good and bad, are they; | |||
Like mortal dwellers on this mundane clod, | |||
Some evil natures, others good, obey. | 260 | ||
As through the air they cleave their weird way, | |||
Their separate passions show: Some smite the trees, | |||
The innocent flowers, or the granite gray, | |||
Or in huge heaps uproll the shouting seas; | |||
While others weep, as now, wrecked Nature's obsequies. | 265 | ||
XXIV.
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In the far distance rolls the Thunder-Car, | |||
Faintly the echo of its wheels is heard; | |||
No more is felt the elemental jar; | |||
The Curtains of the Storm are gently stirred, | |||
And pushed aside; and slowly, at the Word | 270 | ||
Of Him who placed it first within the cloud, | |||
A gorgeous rainbow rises. The dark bird | |||
Of night is on the wing; it cries aloud; | |||
And the white sea gull floats where erst the thunder ploughed. | |||
XXV.
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The storm is lulled; the heaving waves subside; | 275 | ||
The
lightning's flash grows fainter; and the eye Can
just perceive the silver girdle tied About
the groups of pleasant Isles that lie Before
us. Down the hurrying stream we fly, Like a white dove unto its nest. The eve |
280 | ||
Has closed around us, and the brightening sky Yearns for the coming stars. Nobly we leave |
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The Lake, and glide through scenes that Fairy hands might weave. | |||
XXVI. |
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Pale
Hesper smiles upon us through the gloom, An unassuming Pioneer of Night, |
285 | ||
Like
a chrysalis that has burst its tomb, And
spread its gleaming pinions to the light. Soft
moon-beams fall like love-looks on the sight, And
earth and sky seem blending into one, Even as our hearts' deep virtues, love, unite, |
290 | ||
Like meeting pilgrims at the set of sun |
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Grasping each other's hands, their joyous labors done. | |||
XXVII.
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Mild
Evening, like a pensive Vestal Nun,
Sits veiled, lamenting for the truant Hours; The Day has sprung to heaven to seek the Sun, |
295 | ||
And left her weeping on her couch of flowers;
Heaven's Angels, bearing moonlight to the bowers
Where True Love dwells, and Virtue sits enthroned,
In golden urns collect the pearly showers, Singing sweet idyls, low and silver-toned, |
300 | ||
Till the enameled tears some cherub brow have zoned. |
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TWILIGHT HYMN.
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God of the early Morning light! |
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Whose Hand the Gates of Dawn unbars; |
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God of the Evening and the Night! |
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Who guides the chariots of the stars: |
305 | ||
We thank Thee for the air we breathe, |
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The waves that roll, the winds that rise, |
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For all Thy wondrous works beneath, |
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For all the glories of the skies.
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We bless Thee for the soothing Calm |
310 | ||
That broods below the Evening's wings, |
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We bless Thee for the Spirit-balm |
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The gentle-footed Twilight brings. |
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Promptings of Hope, and Joy, and Love, |
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Exalt our minds and set them free, |
315 | ||
And Prayer-wreaths white as Aaron's Dove |
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Ascend like incense up to Thee. |
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Gently the shades of Night come down, |
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Glooming the Evening's silver gray, |
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Pale Twilight puts aside he crown, |
320 | ||
And follows the dim Ghost of Day. |
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So at the threshold of life's close, |
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We tread the verge of heaven's goal, |
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Peace, like a spirit, brings repose |
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To the calm Twilight of the Soul. |
325 | ||
XXVIII.
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There is no Twilight in yon queenly Moon. | |||
At least the philosophic vision ne'er, | |||
At midnight's solemn, thought-inducing noon, | |||
Could trace the existence of an atmosphere. | |||
No twilight and no Song! No blue sky, clear | 330 | ||
As Woman's purest and most crystal thought | |||
Rising to heaven on the wings of prayer! | |||
No mountain echoes, like wild music, caught | |||
From Nature's hallowed lips, to waiting Genii taught. | |||
XXIX.
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Its valleys know not either day or night; | 335 | ||
Like
mountain shadows darkening the plain They
slumber on, unconscious of the light That
falls on earth, like sun-thoughts on the brain. And
yet we feel her presence, as the main Thrills to the diapason of the storm; |
340 | ||
When
the waves spring to their feet and join the strain, These mighty wrestlers a strong chorus form, |
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And sing her praise, in tones deep, passionate and warm. | |||
XXX.
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Yon
rock, that felt the lightning's burning kiss, Has melted at the fervor of its breath, |
345 | ||
As
it leaped, glowing, from the deep abyss, On
wings of fire, to the distant heath, Shaking
the firm foundations underneath. Yon
shattered trunks that strew the watery way, Yon floating beds of flowers, where many a wreath |
350 | ||
Was woven by the storm, have felt the play | |||
Of the hot lightning's wings, whose touch is swift decay. | |||
XXXI.
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And
now 'tis Night. A myriad stars have come To
cheer the earth, and sentinel the skies. The full-orbed moon irradiates the gloom, |
355 | ||
And
fills the air with light. Each Islet lies Immersed
in shadow, soft as thy dark eyes; Swift
through the sinuous path our vessel glides, Now
hidden by the massive promontories, Anon the bubbling silver from its sides |
360 | ||
Spurning, like a wild bird, whose home is on the tides. | |||
XXXII.
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Here Nature holds her Carnival of Isles. | |||
Steeped in warm sunlight all the merry day, | |||
Each nodding tree and floating greenwood smiles, | |||
And moss-crowned monsters move in grim array; | 365 | ||
All night the Fisher spears his finny prey; | |||
The piney flambeaux reddening the deep, | |||
Past the dim shores, or up some mimic bay: | |||
Like grotesque banditti they boldly sweep | |||
Upon the startled prey, and stab them while they sleep. | 370 | ||
XXXIII.
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Many a tale of legendary lore | |||
Is told of these romantic Isles. The feet | |||
Of the Red Man have pressed each wave-zoned shore, | |||
And many an eye of beauty oft did greet | |||
The painted warriors and their birchen fleet, | 375 | ||
As they returned with trophies of the slain. | |||
That race has passed away; their fair retreat | |||
In its primeval loneness smiles again, | |||
Save where some vessel snaps the isle-enwoven chain: | |||
XXXIV.
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Save where the echo of the huntsman's gun | 380 | ||
Startles the wild duck from some shallow nook, | |||
Or the swift hounds' deep baying, as they run, | |||
Rouses the lounging student from his book; | |||
Or where, assembled by some sedgy brook; | |||
A pic-nic party, resting in the shade, | 385 | ||
Spring pleasedly to their feet, to catch a look | |||
At the strong steamer, through the watery glade | |||
Ploughing, like a huge serpent from its ambuscade. | |||
XXXV.
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We
have well-nigh outstripped the nimble breeze; The silken sail incurves the pliant mast; |
390 | ||
As
flies the comet through the infinities, So
speeds our darling shallop, lightning-fast. The
merry Isles have floated idly past; And
suddenly the waters boil and leap, On either side the foamy spray is cast, |
395 | ||
Hoarse Genii through the shouting Rapid sweep, | |||
And pilot us unharmed adown the hissing steep. | |||
XXXVI.
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The
startled GALOPS shout
as we draw nigh, The
SAULT, delighted, hails
our reckless bark, The graceful CEDARS murmur joyously |
400 | ||
The
vexed CASCADES threaten
our little ark, That
sweeps, love-freighted, to its distant mark. Again
the troubled deep heaps surge on surge, And
howling billows sweep the waters dark, Stunning the ear with their stentorian dirge, |
405 | ||
That loudens as they strike the rocks' resisting verge. | |||
XXXVII.
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And
we have passed the terrible LACHINE, Have
felt a fearless tremor thrill the soul, As
the huge waves upreared their crests of green, Holding our feathery bark in their control, |
410 | ||
As
a strong eagle holds an oriole. The
brain grows dizzy with the whirl and hiss Of
the fast-crowding billows, as they roll, Like struggling Demons, to the vexed abyss, |
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Lashing the tortured crags with wild, demoniac bliss. | 415 | ||
XXXVIII.
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MONT
ROYALE
rises proudly on the view, A
Royal Mount, indeed, with verdure crowned, Bedecked
with regal dwellings, not a few, Which
here and there adorn the mighty mound. ST. HELEN'S next, a fair, enchanted ground, |
420 | ||
A
stately Isle in glowing foliage dressed, Laved
by the dark St. Lawrence all around, Giving a grace to its enamored breast, |
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As pleasing to the eye as Hochelaga's crest. | |||
XXXIX.
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I've stood upon yon Mountain when the sun | 425 | ||
Entered his cloud-built palace in the west, | |||
Like a proud, Royal Nimrod, who had won | |||
His home, and doffed his richest-broidered vest. | |||
Beneath me, the vast city lay at rest; | |||
Its great heart throbbing gently, like the close | 430 | ||
Of Day. A prayer lay folded in my breast, | |||
And from my lips in silence it uprose, | |||
For heaven's blessing on that city's calm repose. | |||
XL.
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For there dwelt one, who, in my Boyhood's days, | |||
I loved with a deep passion. Many years | 435 | ||
Have sung around me the wild paraphrase | |||
Of life since then; and I've shed bitter tears, | |||
And smiled heart-smiles; known many hopes and fears; | |||
But my Boy-love has stood the test of time, | |||
And ripened like her beauty. The fool leers | 440 | ||
At Love's sun mellowing fair Childhood's clime, | |||
Love, beauteous to the Child, to Man becomes sublime. | |||
XLI.
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There was a joyousness within her eyes, | |||
Like the sun's light illumining the blue | |||
Of heaven, making earth a paradise. | 445 | ||
Gladness, like a celestial spirit passing through | |||
The gates of morn, rose white-winged on the view, | |||
Whene'er you looked upon her lovely face. | |||
Love sat upon her lips, and love's sweet dew | |||
Fell from them, leaving there a sunny trace, | 450 | ||
As 'f touched by angel's wings they caught angelic grace. | |||
XLII.
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I could have mellowed in her light of Love, | |||
And breathed my soul out on her lips of Song! | |||
Afar off have I worshipped her, and strove |
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With my pure passion day by day. How long | 455 | ||
Will
my lone spirit wander through the throng Of
human hearts until it lives in Chine? Know,
Maiden, that my love is deep and strong As
yonder Rapid, and as serpentine, Rock after rock it strikes, seeking a joy divine. |
460 | ||
CANZONET.
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The balmy summer days are here, |
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The Robin warbleth in the tree, |
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But Summer, Spring, nor song-birds bring |
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One note of love from thee. |
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The roses will put forth their buds, |
465 | ||
Green leaves adorn each ardent tree, |
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But in my heart will never start |
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One rose-but hope for thee. |
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The sun leans down to kiss the flowers, |
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To flush the blossoms of the tree, |
470 | ||
But to my love no carrier-dove |
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Brings warmth and light from thee. |
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The happy woodlands throb with song, |
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Music is breathed from tree to tree; |
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With Winter's fleece these songs will cease, |
475 | ||
But not my love for thee. |
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XLIII.
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The
dancing current, like a happy child, Mellifluously
laughs, as down the stream We
glide, past many a cot and rural wild, Like visions mellowed by the moonlight's beam. |
480 | ||
We
cannot stay for these; a loftier theme Awaits
us. See! our shallop seems to feel The
joyous impulse of our waking dream, And parts the waters with its anxious keel, |
|||
Exulting in the joys that through our bosoms steal. | 485 | ||
XLIV.
|
|||
Yet there are graceful landscapes thickly strewn | |||
Along these banks, to muse on and admire; | |||
Here stands a maiden cottage all alone, | |||
There the low church extends its gleaming spire.- | |||
Scenes, where Arcadian dreamers might retire, | 490 | ||
And live in pastoral meditation, free | |||
From every low, inordinate desire. | |||
Yon group of dwellings--what felicity | |||
Speaks from their eloquent repose! where even he | |||
XLV.
|
|||
Of lonely Vaucluse might have sighed, and ne'er | 495 | ||
Been tempted by fair Psyche's winning smile | |||
From his pure love's Penelope. And here, | |||
VARENNES, like a fair Eden purged from guile, | |||
Sits smiling on the night; yon aged pile | |||
With its bright spires reposing on its breast. | 500 | ||
Yonder, the HOLY MOUNTAIN OF ROUVILLE, | |||
Like a huge cloud that had come down to rest, | |||
Looms far against the sky, and on its sombre crest | |||
XLVI.
|
|||
Shineth the Pilgrim's Cross, that long hath cheered | |||
The weary wanderer from distant lands, | 505 | ||
Who, as his stately pinnace onward steered, | |||
Bless'd his Faith's symbol with uplifted hands. | |||
Swift through the RICHELIEU! Past the white sands | |||
That spangle fair BATISCAN'S pleasant shore | |||
We glide, where fairy dwellings dot the strands; | 510 | ||
How gracefully yon aged elms brood o'er | |||
The shrubbery that yearneth for their mystic lore, | |||
XLVII.
|
|||
When
the winds commune with the tell-tale limbs, And
many-voicéd leaves. That is ST.
PIERRE, Where the tall poplars--which the night bedims, |
515 | ||
Lift their sharp outlines through the solemn air. | |||
Past these white cottages to L'AVENIR, | |||
Another site of beauty. Lovelier yet | |||
THE PLATEAU, slumbering in the foliage there; | |||
And gay CAP SAINTE, like a Wild Love, beset | 520 | ||
With wooers, bringing gems to deck her coronet. | |||
XLVIII.
|
|||
The
Whippoorwill, among the slumberous trees, Flingeth
her solitary triple cry Upon
the busy lips of every breeze, That wafts it in wild echoes up the sky, |
525 | ||
And
through the answering woods, incessantly. Surely
some pale Ophelia's spirit wails In
this remorseless bird's impassioned sigh, That like a lost soul haunts the lonely dales! |
|||
Maiden, sing me one of thy pleasing madrigals. | 530 | ||
THE WHIPPOORWILL.
|
|||
Ere the dawn, one morning early, |
|||
Jeannie tripped the meadows o'er, |
|||
Passsing by the fields of barley, |
|||
By the cottage at the shore: |
|||
"There his faith was pledged and broken, |
535 | ||
'Neath yon tree beside the Mill!" |
|||
From the tree, when she had spoken, |
|||
Came a dismal "Whip-poor-will!" |
|||
"Whip-poor-will! Whip-poor-will!" |
|||
From the tree beside the Mill |
540 | ||
Piped the doleful Whippoorwill. |
|||
"Truly," Jeannie said, "poor Willie?" |
|||
He was false to heaven and me; |
|||
He was false, and I was silly, |
|||
Yet the bird sings heartlessly. |
545 | ||
Nevermore we'll sit at gloaming, |
|||
'Neath yon tree beside the Mill!" |
|||
Willie's heart has gone-a-roaming!" |
|||
Quoth the harsh bird--"Whip-poor-whill!" |
|||
"Whip-poor-will! Whip-poor-will!" |
550 | ||
From the tree beside the Mill |
|||
Piped the doleful Whippoorwill. |
|||
Jeannie's heart was all compassion, |
|||
Jeannie's lips a pardon sighed; |
|||
"Absent loves are all the fashion!" |
555 | ||
"Whip-poor-will!" the rude bird cried. |
|||
From the pasture tripped the Maiden, |
|||
With her foamy milking pail, |
|||
Every roaming breeze was laden |
|||
With the strange bird's heartless wail: |
560 | ||
"Whip-poor-will! Whip-poor-will!" |
|||
In the tree beside the Mill |
|||
Piped the doleful Whippoorwill. |
|||
From the cottage by the river |
|||
Truant Willie, blushing, came, |
565 | ||
Jeannie's heart would still misgive her, |
|||
Though he softly spake her name: |
|||
"Ever since that evening, Jeannie, |
|||
That we parted at the Mill, |
|||
All the night long, bright or rainy, |
570 | ||
Shrieked that noisy Whip-poor-will!" |
|||
"Whip-poor-will! Whip-poor-will!" |
|||
From the tree beside the Mill |
|||
Piped the saucy Whippoorwill. |
|||
On the Maiden's lips paused Willie, |
575 | ||
Jeannie never asked the cause |
|||
But all patience, like a silly |
|||
Little Maiden as she was, |
|||
Held her mouth up like a flower, |
|||
That her bee might sip his fill, |
580 | ||
While the bird, with startling power, |
|||
Shrieked his wildest Whip-poor-will!" |
|||
"Whip-poor-will! Whip-poor-will!" |
|||
Nevermore beside the Mill |
|||
Piped that noisy Whippoorwill. |
585 | ||
XLIX.
|
|||
Th'inconstant
moon has passed behind a cloud. CAPE
DIAMOND shows its sombre-colored bust, As
if the mournful Night had thrown a shroud Over
this pillar to a hero's dust. Well may she weep; hers is no trivial trust; |
590 | ||
His cenotaph may crumble on the plain,
Here stands a pile that dares the rebel's lust For spoliation: one that will remain |
|||
A granite seal--brave Wolfe! set upon Victory's Fane. | |||
L.
|
|||
QUEBEC! how regally it crowns the height, | 595 | ||
Like
a tanned giant on a solid throne! Unmindful
of the sanguinary fight, The
roar of cannon mingling with the moan Of
mutilated soldiers years agone, That gave the place a glory and a name |
600 | ||
Among
the nations. France was heard to groan; England rejoiced, but checked the proud acclaim |
|||
A brave young chief had fall'n to vindicate
her fame. |
|||
LI.
|
|||
WOLFE
and MONTCALM! two nobler names ne'er graced The page of history, or the hostile plain; |
605 | ||
No
braver souls the storm of battle faced, Regardless
of the danger or the pain. They
pass'd unto their rest without a stain Upon
their nature or their generous hearts. One graceful column to the noble twain |
610 | ||
Speaks of a nation's gratitude, and starts | |||
The tear that Valor claims, and Feeling's self imparts. | |||
LII.
|
|||
Far
up the Golden Ladder of the Mom Had
climbed the sun, upon the Autumn day That led me to these battlements. The corn |
615 | ||
Upon
the distant fields was ripe. Away To
the far left the swelling highlands lay; The
quiet cove, the river, bright and still; The gallant ships that made the harbor gay; |
|||
And, like a Thought swayed by a potent Will, | 620 | ||
POINT LEVI, seated at the foot of the Old Hill: | |||
LIII.
|
|||
What
were the Gardens and the Terraces,
The stately dwellings, and the monuments
Upreared to human fame, compared to these? Those ancient hills stood proudly ere the tents |
625 | ||
Of
the first Voyageurs--swart visitants From
the fair, sunny Loire--were pitched upon Wild
Stadacona's* height. The armaments Whose
mighty thunder clove the solid stone, Defaced yon granite cape, that answered groan for groan. |
630 | ||
|
|
||
LIV.
|
|||
Down
the rough slope Montmorenci's torrent pours, We
cannot view it by this feeble ray, But,
hark! its thunders leap along the shores, Thrilling
the cliffs that guard the beauteous bay; And now the moon shines on our downward way, |
635 | ||
Showing
fair Orleans' enchanting Isle, Its
fields of grain, and meadows sweet with hay; Along the fertile shores fresh landscapes smile, |
|||
Cheering the watchful eye for many a pleasant mile. | |||
LV.
|
|||
It seems like passing by some Fairy-realm. |
640 | ||
The
cottages are whiter than the snow. Joy
at the prow, and true love at the helm, Both heaven and earth smile on us as we go. |
|||
Surely they never feel the breath of woe, | |||
The dwellers on this Isle. Spire after spire | 645 | ||
Points to the heav'n whose presence seems to glow | |||
Within their happy bosoms who aspire | |||
To
naught beyond their hearths, their own dear house-hold |
|||
LVI.
|
|||
Peace
to their cheerful homes! where bless'd Content Reigns paramount throughout the circling year. |
650 | ||
A courteous, gentle race, as ever blent
Religion with Simplicity. The cheer
That greets the stranger who may wander here
Glows with the zeal of hospitality. Peace to their quiet homes! where blanching fear |
655 | ||
Ne'er enters, nursed by jealous rivalry. |
|||
From the world's bitter strife the Habitant is free. | |||
LVII.
|
|||
The
billowy River rolls its proudest wave, The
zephyrs have fled, dancing, o'er the hills, And the winds tread the waters, wildly-grave, |
660 | ||
Like
the Storm-Harpists gliding down the rills Of
their own native mountains, 'gainst their wills. Brighter
the moon above us; brighter all The
patient stars, whose pensive beauty thrills Our
yearning souls, like distant tones that |
665 | ||
On waiting ears hearkening for an Angel's call. | |||
LVIII.
|
|||
Brighter
the night, and whiter every cot And
glancing spire that silvers in the moon; Intensely
glows each little garden plot; The sparkling villages at random strewn |
670 | ||
Along the brooding shore, where Bacchus,* boon | |||
Companion of the merry crowd, once held | |||
His regal court: his prudent subjects soon | |||
Stripped off his purple vestments, and rebelled, | |||
And wisely still disown the Monarch they expelled. | 675 | ||
|
|
||
LIX.
|
|||
Now
swiftly down towards the salt-breathed sea The
cool wind wafts us, and we bid farewell To the
lone Isle that slumbers on our lee; Farewell,
perchance, forever. Who can tell? Years hence, in separate lands, our thoughts may dwell, |
680 | ||
But
for a little moment, on this night, And
Memory may wake within her cell, And lead us here by this same starry light, |
|||
Our long-divided souls, embracing, reunite. |
|||
PARTING SONG.
|
|||
Part! the word must not be spoken! |
685 | ||
Part!
our hearts must ne'er be broken! Rivers
meet and mix forever, Why
are we, love, doomed to sever? Oh!
the cruel, cruel anguish! How the senses droop and languish! |
690 | ||
For
the fiat may be spoken, And our hearts may both be broken! |
|||
Comes
the Night, the Evening greeting, Ever
thus behold them meeting; But for us--what hope before us? |
695 | ||
Not
a star is shining o'er us; But
the heav'n of love is clouded, Wildly,
darkly, blackly shrouded, For
an iron tongue hath spoken, And our hope in hope is broken! |
700 | ||
In my brain a fire is burning, |
|||
Backward to my heart returning, |
|||
And my nerves, that drooped to sadness, |
|||
Are re-strung to desp'rate madness! |
|||
Leap, ye burning thoughts that rend me, |
705 | ||
Let not Pity's voice befriend me! |
|||
Curs'd the lips that lie hath spoken! |
|||
For our hearts shall not be
broken! |
|||
LX.
|
|||
CAPE
TORMENTS
lifts itself above the hills That gird it round about, like sentinels |
710 | ||
Guarding
some great king's palace, whose grandeur fills Their
hearts with pride and love. Up the steep dells Crawl
the night-vapors, dimming the gray swells Of
mount and hill that in the distance rise, Cloud-like and faint. Ev'n on those uplands dwells |
715 | ||
The faithful Habitant; and when he dies, | |||
His children, jealous of the ancient family ties, | |||
LXI.
|
|||
Keep
the old Homestead sacred. What a night! It
must have borrowed somewhat of the day, In honor of thine eyes, love. The warm light |
720 | ||
That
bathes yon church and village, is as gay And
cheering as if the first golden ray Of
morning's sun had pierced it with its beams. Some
Recluse, yonder, keeps his holiday In that obscure ravine. Peace to his dreams! |
725 | ||
Uncursed with lust of gold, or wild, unholy schemes. | |||
LXII.
|
|||
Still loftily looms the Cape! Still proudly soar | |||
The vassal Hills--innumerable--vast! | |||
And majesty and beauty evermore | |||
Surfeit the sense with a divine repast. | 730 | ||
Another group of dwellings--'t is the last; | |||
Another spire flashing above the trees | |||
That screen the little church. Our slender mast | |||
Leans to the gale, and while the glorious breeze | |||
Quickens our speed, look round, for there are charms to please | 735 | ||
LXIII.
|
|||
On
either hand. A dream it well might be: Hills
rising here, and mountains looming there; Islands
reposing on a moonlit sea With
which the winds are toying; everywhere The shores are bold, precipitous and fair. |
740 | ||
GROSSE
ISLE sits dreamily-languid; all around, Its
subject-islands slumber. In the air The clouds have melted into light. No sound |
|||
Stirs the sweet calm, save where the jovial billows bound. |
|||
LXIV.
|
|||
Press on, courageous bark!--the wind is fair, | 745 | ||
As
it should ever be when Love sets sail Beneath
such skies as these, whose glowing air Quickens
our souls, as odors scent the gale. Soon
will the stars be dim, the Moon grow pale, As with Orion down the dreamy west |
750 | ||
She
wanders, like a Beauty, proud and frail, To where her lonely couch waits to be press'd, |
|||
A
fearful secret in her warm, voluptuous breast |
|||
LXV.
|
|||
This
Isle* might guard the entrance to a sphere Of heavenly tranquillity! The mind |
755 | ||
Puts
off its weight of cares, for Beauty here Sits
like a wondrous deity enshrined Among
the hills. Oh, God! but Thou art kind! ST.
PAUL'S delightful BAY, fit mirror for The stars, glows like a vision which the wind |
760 | ||
Wafts by some Angel standing on the shore, | |||
As bless'd as if he trod heaven's star-enameled floor. | |||
|
|||
LXVI.
|
|||
The
distant knolls are soft as midnight clouds Filled
with bright memories of departed day. Like purple glories rolling up the woods, |
765 | ||
This
rugged wilderness which we survey Extends
in wild, magnificent array, To
regions rarely trod by mortal feet. Ev'n
here, love, though we would, we cannot stay; We cannot loiter near this calm retreat; |
770 | ||
The Morn approaches, and his fiery steeds are fleet. | |||
LXVII.
|
|||
These
two majestic hills* kneel down to kiss The
village at their feet; the cottages, Pearl-like
and glowing, speak of human bliss, With a low, eloquent tongue. Fit symbols, these, |
775 | ||
Of
a diviner life--of perfect Ease Allied to bless'd Repose. The church spire looks Like a sweet promise smiling through the trees; While far beyond this loveliest of nooks, |
775 | ||
The finely-rounded swells dream of the babbling brooks. | 780 | ||
|
|||
LXVIII.
|
|||
EBOULEMENTS~
sleeps serenely in the arms Of
the Maternal hill, upon whose breast It
lies, like a sweet, infant soul, whose charms Fill
some fond mother's bosom with that rest Caused by the presence of a heavenly guest. |
785 | ||
How
coyly--close--it nestles! how retired, Half
conscious of its charms, and half oppress'd, As with a blushing sense of being admired; |
|||
As modest as a gem, with gem-like beauty fired. |
|||
|
|||
LXIX.
|
|||
The stream reflects these cottages, like swans | 790 | ||
Reposing
on its surface, or faint dreams But
half remembered when the morning dawns, And
tremulous sleep wakes with the day's first beams. Past
the monotonous "CAPES."* The moonlight gleams Full on the mossy slopes and banks that lie |
795 | ||
Along
the silent shores, as well beseems So fair a region. Why, love, dost thou sigh? |
|||
But wherefore ask, loved one? My own heart tells me why: |
|||
|
|||
LXX.
|
|||
Our
spirits are as one. The morning, love, Will part us. We have lived an age to-night. |
800 | ||
Love
is immortal. Hope is from above. Sit
nearer to me, for thine eyes are bright With
tears. There is a fairer land in sight. Our
love is sphered with truth. Eternity Will crown that love, if we but love aright; |
805 | ||
If Love be Truth, indeed. Soft-eyed one! we | |||
Must seek beyond the veil what here can never be! | |||
LXXI.
|
|||
Welcome
the granite sternness of MALBAIE!t The
last dim light of the declining moon Falls dimly on its rugged banks. The day |
810 | ||
Will
shortly waken from its dreamy swoon; His
chariot long hath swept the sullen noon Of
midnight; and beneath our feet, the sun Rolls,
flaming, towards the East. His fierce breath soon Along the undulating hills will run, |
815 | ||
Rousing the piney vales and forests, one by one. | |||
|
|||
LXXII.
|
|||
And
Darkness, like a Fate, comes stealing down In
her black mantle, step by step, until The
trembling stars have dwindled down to one Pale, solitary watcher. Lone and chill |
820 | ||
Falls
its meek glance on river, wood and hill. See,
you can even mark its heart-beats, love! Each
mortal has his mission to fulfil, Each planet is accountable to Jove, |
|||
Both do His high behests, His sovereign Will approve. |
825 | ||
LXXIII.
|
|||
I
knew a man whose prayerful soul was set To
a devotional music, like a psalm Fresh
from a Master-Artist's brain; and yet, There
came a time when his mind's starriest calm Was quenched in Unbelief. Once, like a palm |
830 | ||
He
flourished, till deep thinking brought a doubt Of
a Hereafter, and the Great I AM! Like a new light, Faith slowly came, and out |
|||
Of his dark world he strode, believing and devout. | |||
LXXIV.
|
|||
So rolls the bright Dawn up the Orient, | 835 | ||
Out
of the pitchy hour that precedes The
flush of Day. Darkness was surely sent To
make the Light more blessed. The heart bleeds That
has been sown with Error--lo! the seeds Have brought forth Truth. So Good from Evil springs |
840 | ||
And
all is mystery. Our noblest deeds May bring us bitter fruits. Frail man who clings |
|||
To Life, is perfected when Death reveals all things. | |||
LXXV.
|
|||
The
Morning Star has gone back into heaven, The Sun's light-footed Herald, the gray Dawn |
845 | ||
Is passing upwards, and the dusk is riven | |||
By a warm tinge, like to a purple lawn, | |||
O'er which a misty saffron veil is drawn. | |||
But warmer is the rose-tint spreading now | |||
Along the dim horizon, erst so wan, | 850 | ||
Like Health returning to the pallid brow | |||
And cheek of some young sufferer, with a welcome glow. | |||
PÆAN TO THE DAWN.
|
|||
In the East the blooming Angel, |
|||
Morning, hov'reth, like a gorgeous rose, |
|||
Waking many a fair Evangel |
855 | ||
From her heavenly repose. |
|||
From her brow a radiant glory |
|||
Falls, like fire from above, |
|||
Telling the impassioned story |
|||
Of God's everlasting love. |
860 | ||
Love's Angels ever walk their starry round, |
|||
And each new Morn beholds Love newly crowned. |
|||
Love, that at the primal waking |
|||
Of the Dawn in Eden's bowers, |
|||
Wandered through the Garden, slaking |
865 | ||
His warm thirst from Eden's flowers; |
|||
And the same sweet Eden-nectar |
|||
Flows wherever Love is found, |
|||
Even when the midnight's spectre |
|||
Treads upon earth's hallowed ground. |
870 | ||
Love's Angels ever walk their starry round, |
|||
And with each Morning Love is newly crowned. |
|||
Blessed light of early Morning! |
|||
At whose dawn the stars retire, |
|||
With thy warmth our souls adorning, |
875 | ||
Fill us with love's ardent fire |
|||
With the love that comes from heaven, |
|||
With the hope that soars on high, |
|||
That our faults may all be shriven, |
|||
As thy splendors fill the sky. |
880 | ||
Love's Angels ever walk their starry round, |
|||
And with each Morning Love is newly crowned.
|
|||
Calmly is the River glowing, |
|||
Like a burnished, crystal sea, |
|||
Like pure thoughts forever flowing |
885 | ||
Heavenward eternally. |
|||
Slowly up the distant mountains |
|||
Rolls the changing purple screen, |
|||
While the swift rills, from their fountains |
|||
Leaping, clothe their sides with green. |
890 | ||
Love's Angels ever walk their starry round, |
|||
And with each Morning Love is newly crowned. |
|||
O'er the earth Love's blooming Angels |
|||
Loiter, hand in hand with Morn, |
|||
Fair-browed, golden-crowned Evangels, |
895 | ||
Twin companions, heaven-born. |
|||
Life, and Light, and Joy attending, |
|||
Hymns and prayers salute their ears, |
|||
Earth's sweet hallelujahs blending |
|||
With the anthems of the spheres. |
900 | ||
Love's Angels ever walk their starry round, |
|||
And with each Morning Love is newly crowned. |
|||
LXXVI.
|
|||
Like maid-wife waiting for her wedded lord, The morn waits for the sun with a flushed cheek. I hear the songs of birds; the breeze has stirred |
905 | ||
Their
dwellings, as it rustled from the peak Of
yonder mountain with a playful shriek. Now
my fair shallop, leap! the blessed Day Opens
its crystal gates, and up the meek And wan-faced sky the sun's darts cleave their way, |
910 | ||
As our bark cleaves the black and frowning SAGUENAY. | |||
LXXVIII.
|
|||
Mysterious
Source of Light, triumphant Sun! A
Royal Witness hast thou been to me Of
th' existence of the Eternal One! But e'en thy light compared with Deity, |
915 | ||
Is
as a dew-drop to the boundless sea. What
Angel-plaudits from surrounding spheres Must
have been echoed through infinity, When first above thy myriads of compeers |
|||
Thou rod'st, exulting o'er the
starry charioteers. |
920 | ||
LXXVIII.
|
|||
Couldst
thou reveal the secret of thy birth, The
pain and travail of thy Parent, Night, The
worlds would glow with wonder, as the earth Glows
with the fervor of thy glorious light. Roll on in all thy mystery and might! |
925 | ||
For
thou art worthy of the Hand Divine That
waved thee into being, in the sight Of His archangels, and the heavenly line |
|||
Of saints, who, wondering, praised the Omnipotent Design. | |||
LXXIX.
|
|||
In golden volumes rolls the blessed light | 930 | ||
Along the sterile mountains. Pile on Pile | |||
The granite masses rise to left and right: | |||
Bald, stately bluffs that never wear a smile; | |||
Where vegetation fails to reconcile | |||
The parched shrubbery and stunted trees | 935 | ||
To the stern mercies of the flinty soil. | |||
And we must pass a thousand bluffs like these, | |||
Within whose breasts are locked a myriad mysteries. | |||
LXXX.
|
|||
Here is a barren crag, at whose brown feet | |||
Patiently sits the church and gleams the spire. | 940 | ||
Commerce has found this a deserved retreat; | |||
Here groan the mills, and there, the household fire | |||
Sends up its smoke above the struggling briar | |||
And dwarfish evergreens that grow between | |||
The stubborn rocks--that grow but to expire. | 945 | ||
Not here the thrifty farmer's face serene-- | |||
The lumberer alone lends life to the grim scene. | |||
LXXXI.
|
|||
No
further evidence of life, save where The
young whales bask their broad backs in the sun, Or the gay grampus, sportive as a hare, |
950 | ||
Leaps
and rejoices, playfully as one In
youth who sees some holiday begun. Perhaps
a crowded steamer, passing by, Lights
up the
scene a moment. Trebly dun The shades of sullen loneliness that lie |
955 | ||
On rugged L'Anse l'eau when no living thing is nigh. | |||
LXXXII.
|
|||
Over
the darkening waters! on through scenes Whose
unimaginable wildness fills The
mind with joy insatiate, and weans The soul from earth, to Him whose Presence thrills |
960 | ||
All
Beauty as all Truth. These iron Hills! In
what profusion did He pile them here, Thick
as the flowers that blossom where the rills Chant to the primal woods. Year after year |
|||
In solitude eternal, rapt in contemplation drear, | 965 | ||
LXXXIII.
|
|||
Dreaming
of the old years before they rose Triumphant
from the deep, whose waters roll'd Above
their solemn and unknown repose; Dreaming
of that bright morning, when, of old, Beyond the Red Man's memory, they told |
970 | ||
The
Secrets of the Ages to the sun, That
smiled upon them from his throne of gold; Dreaming of the bright stars and loving moon, |
|||
That first shone on them from the Night's impressive noon: | |||
LXXXIV.
|
|||
Dreaming of the long ages that have passed |
975 | ||
Since
then, and with them that diminished race Whose birchen fleets these inky waters glassed, |
|||
As they swept o'er them with the wind's swift pace. | |||
Of their wild legends scarce remains a trace; | |||
Thou holds't the myriad secrets in thy brain, | 980 | ||
Oh! stately bluffs! As well seek to efface | |||
The light of the bless'd stars, as to obtain | |||
From thy sealed, granite lips, tradition or refrain! | |||
LXXXV.
|
|||
But they are there, though man may never know | |||
Their number or their beauty. Pass the eye | 985 | ||
Along the ever-looming scene, where'er we go, | |||
Through these long corridors of rock and sky | |||
What startling barriers, rising sullenly | |||
From the dark deeps, like giants, seem to place | |||
An adamantine gateway, close and high, | 990 | ||
To bar our progress; meet them face to face, | |||
The magic doors fly open, and the rocks recede apace. | |||
LXXXVI.
|
|||
Hills piled on rugged hills! But see, how drear, | |||
And with what startling solitariness, | |||
The TETE DE BOULE looms yonder! Cold and clear | 905 | ||
In isolated grandeur, the huge mass, | |||
Like the stern Magi of this granite pass, | |||
He stands amid-stream, thoughtfully apart | |||
From his far-off companions. Once, alas! | |||
I knew a stately soul, with lone, sad heart, | 1000 | ||
And thus to me he sung--that
mountain's counterpart: |
|||
VANISHED HOPES.
|
|||
I've supped with depression and feasted with sorrow, | |||
The hot tears of anguish have withered my heart; | |||
And now, death might strike down my last hope to-morrow, | |||
Not one tear is left me to deaden his dart. | 1005 | ||
From youth up to manhood a scourge was upon me, |
|||
Few roses of pleasure have bloomed in life's crown; | |||
No rainbow of promise wherein I might sun me, | |||
The grasp of a fate is still bearing me down.
|
|||
And thus like a tree in the lone desert--blasted, |
1010 | ||
Dry, leafless and withered--dead, sapless and bare, | |||
I long for love's sweet dews, once mine, now untasted, | |||
And stand like a wretch stricken dumb with despair! | |||
LXXXVII.
|
|||
Not
often these imperishable hills Are startled by the cheering Voice of Song. |
|||
Swift
flies our fleet bark onward, ev'n as rills Leap,
crystal-footed, like starbeams, along Steep
mountain sides, that, resolute and strong, Heed
not their graceful steps. There is no sign Of human habitation seen among |
1020 | ||
These heaven-reaching bluffs; no beach supine, |
|||
Or banks inviting, where the weary might recline. |
|||
LXXXVIII.
|
|||
One
solitary sea gull hovering, Like
an adventurous spirit, o'er the deep, And he, too, glides as silent on the wing |
1025 | ||
As
a child's thoughts of heaven. Parched and steep, The
red-browed mountains slumber, like the sleep Of
a drugged giant--dreamless, deep and wild. A
few dwarfed pines and impish cedars creep Along the embrowned summits, half-beguiled |
1030 | ||
By the warm sunbeams, where no foliage ever smiled. | |||
LXXXIX.
|
|||
But
as our restless shallop from her prow Scatters
the liquid pearls in her mad haste, These
naked boulders lag behind, and now The smiling hills with verdant life are graced. |
1035 | ||
Like
a lone star twinkling above the waste Of
ocean, when the youthful mariner sees That
the portentous storm has safely pass'd, Is yonder distant dwelling, where the breeze |
|||
Frills the calm bay, and flirts with the coquetting trees: | 1040 | ||
XC.
|
|||
Slumbering at the base of two high rocks, | |||
It looks like Patience at the feet of Death. | |||
Or, fancy it some grave magician's box, | |||
Which, opened, wafts a pestilential breath | |||
Along the mountains, an invisible wreath | 1045 | ||
Of subtlest essence, permeating through | |||
Their granite pores, sapping all life beneath, | |||
And robbing their bald summits of the blue | |||
And rich aerial tints, where the tall cedars grew. | |||
XCI.
|
|||
A green delightful valley, sweetly smiles | 1050 | ||
Close to those rocks, as if an Angel-path | |||
Led to the shore from the remotest hills, | |||
That lave their heads in an ambrosial bath | |||
Of vapors and warm sunlight, such as hath |
|||
Been carried down from heaven in the urns | 1055 | ||
Of ministering spirits. Free from scathe | |||
Is this sweet vale, where some fair sprite sojourns, | |||
In smiling contrast to the blasted mountain ferns. | |||
XCII.
|
|||
Here,
the dark pines clothe the steep mountain-side, There, heavy beetling cliffs, rugged and bald, |
1060 | ||
Lift their gray heads above the sunny tide-- | |||
Like the stern phantom of some Prophet-Scald | |||
Of the old time, by magic wiles enthralled: | |||
Full of his Scandinavian fire, and yet | |||
Spell-bound and silent, like a ghost appalled. | 1065 | ||
A river, winding, like a rivulet, | |||
Through the thick woods and reverential hills, has set | |||
XCIII.
|
|||
Its
seal of freshness on the changeful wild. A
stately ship lies anchored in the bay; Like an Oasis to the Desert-child, |
1070 | ||
It
speaks of Life. No rocks can bar the way Where
Love and Hope lend wings to human clay: The
granite knots roll from us, like a cloud Of
vapor up the sunny-minded Day, When Morn looks down from heaven: They have bowed |
1075 | ||
Their stubborn heads, and parted, like a daunted crowd | |||
XCIV.
|
|||
Of
evil spirits who have seen the sun. These
hills lie mingled in a soft embrace, As
if they felt the joy that makes us one When human hearts unite, and face to face |
1080 | ||
Love
looks on Love, discovering that trace Of
Eden that yet lingers in the heart: Are
they the offspring, love, of some old race Of mountains, that no Geologic art |
|||
Can trace--no whisper of their deep old loves impart? |
1085 | ||
SONG.
|
|||
Oh! give me the love of your woman's heart, |
|||
And the light of your cheerful eye! |
|||
And the earth will change |
|||
From a phantom strange |
|||
To a heaven with stars and sky; |
1090 | ||
And the Sun of Hope |
|||
Up the gleaming cope, |
|||
Like the Genius of Love, will roll, |
|||
And dark Night no more |
|||
Will obscure the shore |
1095 | ||
Where beckons Love's mystic Soul!
|
|||
For your love is as deep as the comet's sweep, |
|||
When it reels from its astral lair, |
|||
And your looks as bright |
|||
As the lustrous light |
1100 | ||
The sun shakes from his golden hair. |
|||
As pure as the hue |
|||
Of the summer blue, |
|||
That is warmed by the sunset's glow, |
|||
Are the thoughts that rise |
1105 | ||
In your cheerful eyes |
|||
To banish the Demon, Woe.
|
|||
I'd pillow my head on your snowy breast, |
|||
And my heart, like a cymbal fine, |
|||
Would throb with a tone |
1110 | ||
That were Music's own, |
|||
When it wakened a chord of thine: |
|||
Then the Sun of Hope |
|||
Up Life's gleaming cope, |
|||
The true Genius of Love would roll, |
1115 | ||
And dark Night no more |
|||
Would obscure the shore |
|||
Where beckons Love's mystic Soul. |
|||
XCV.
|
|||
Nature
has here put on her royalest dress, And CAPE ETERNITY looms grandly up, |
1120 | ||
Like a
God reigning in the Wilderness Holding
communion with the distant cope, Interpreting
the stars' dreams, as they ope Their
silver gates, where stand his regal kin. Oh! for some special gift! to give full scope |
1125 | ||
To earth some portion of the fire that burns within. |
|||
XCVI.
|
|||
A deep and overpowering solitude | |||
Reigns
undisturbed along the varied scene. A wilderness of Beauty, stern and rude, |
1130 | ||
In
undulating swells of wavy green; Soft,
airy slopes, bold, massive and serene; Rich
in wild beauty and sublimity, From
the far summits in their piney sheen, Down to the shadows thrown by rock and tree |
1135 | ||
Along the dark, deep wave, that slumbers placidly. |
|||
XCVII.
|
|||
He, love, who flushed the daisy built the world. | |||
All things come perfect from His Master-hand. | |||
The stars, His Thoughts, through wide creation whirled, | |||
Down to the minutest monad of sand | 1140 | ||
Upon the shore, in equal glory stand | |||
Before His sight. But Man, and man alone, | |||
He holds supremest of the works He planned: | |||
And yet, how like Earth's faintest monotone, | |||
Compared to Heaven's choir, he seems, when thrown | 1145 | ||
XCVIII.
|
|||
In puny contrast to a work like this. | |||
Slope after slope, wave after wave of light | |||
And graceful foliage, which the sun's warm kiss | |||
Thrills, from the centre to the farthest height. | |||
The mind soars God-ward with a keen delight, |
1150 | ||
And
proudly beats the undisciplined heart, Rendering
homage to the Infinite, As from the Cape's embrace the wild shapes start, |
|||
Filling the soul with dreams that nevermore depart. | |||
XCIX.
|
|||
A playful waterfall comes dashing down, | 1155 | ||
As
silvery as the laughter of a child Dancing
upon the greensward, and the sun Scatters
his golden arrows through the wild, Cleaving
the molten-silver stream that smiled So
lovingly upon his earliest beams |
1160 | ||
So
unsuspecting Innocence, beguiled By Pleasures, soft as sunlight upon streams, |
|||
Flies the swift darts that pierce the enamel of its dreams. |
|||
C.
|
|||
Is there a soul
so dead to nature's charms, That thrills not here in this divine retreat? |
1165 | ||
Love
lures me evermore to Woman's arms, But
here I kneel at Nature's hallowed feet! Love
fills my being with a calm, replete, But
regal Nature sets my spirit free With grateful praises to God's Mercy seat. |
1170 | ||
Yet nature binds me closer, love, to thee: | |||
Ev'n as this dreamy Bay,* in sweet felicity | |||
|
|||
CI.
|
|||
Woos both the sun's light, and the cool shade | |||
Of the
umbrageous woods to its embrace. What deep imaginings of Peace pervade |
1175 | ||
Its
heavenly repose, as Nature's face Peers
down, in mild, unutterable grace, Like
a calm Student seeking Pearls of Thought In
some fair Beauty's mind, where he can trace Through her warm slumber, how her soul is fraught |
1180 | ||
With pure deep Love, by heavenly inspiration taught. |
|||
CII.
|
|||
Strong, eager thoughts come crowding to my eyes, | |||
Earnest and swift, like Romans in the race, | |||
As in stern grandeur, looming up the skies, | |||
This Monarch of the Bluffs,* with kingly grace, | 1185 | ||
Stands firmly fixed in his eternal place, | |||
Like
the great Samson of the Saguenay, The
stately parent of the giant race Of mountains, scattered--thick as ocean spray |
1190 | ||
Sown by the tempest--up this granite-guarded way. | |||
|
|||
CIII.
|
|||
My lips are mute. I cannot speak the thought | |||
That, like a bubble on the placid sea, | |||
Bursts ere it tells the tale with which 't is fraught. | |||
Another comes, and so, eternally, | |||
They rise in hope, to wander spirit-free | 1195 | ||
About
the earth. 'T were best they should not break The
Silence, which itself is ecstacy And Godlike Eloquence, or my frail voice shake |
|||
A single echo, the expressive Calm to break. | |||
CIV.
|
|||
Like tears of Gladness o'er a giant's face, |
1200 | ||
The
streams leap perpendicularly down The
polished sides of the steep precipice, That
glooms the waters with its sullen frown, Until
they seem as massive as the brown, Bold, naked rock, that rears its swarthy crest, |
1205 | ||
Its
anatomic form, and triple crown Of granite, far above the earth's unrest, |
|||
Claiming a lofty seat, like Truth made manifest. |
|||
CV.
|
|||
Let us return, love,* for the
goal is won. Here, by this Rock, 't is doomed that we must part, |
1210 | ||
And
part forever; for the glorious Sun Of
Love, that quickeneth my earnest heart, Shines
not for thee, alone. The Dream of Art That
calms the happy Student's sweet repose, Is like our Dream of Love--the first swift dart |
1215 | ||
Shot by young Phoebus from his chamber, goes | |||
Like lightning through his vision's blooming heart of rose. | |||
|
|||
CVI.
|
|||
Already
thou art gone, with one last look Of
love from those exalted eyes of thine, That cheered me as we read from nature's book |
1220 | ||
Together,
and partook of the divine Ambrosial
draught of love's celestial wine. Another
earnest being at my side! Not
her whose Girlhood's dreamy love was mine; Not her whose heart Affliction's fire has tried; |
1225 | ||
Not her of the Artistic soul, and stately pride, |
|||
CVII.
|
|||
Who
shook my being as the autumn winds Shake
down the timid leaves. Loved-one! I hear The
voice within syllabl'ing words that bind Our souls, and blend them for a nobler sphere |
1230 | ||
Of
usefulness and action--year by year Ascending
in the scale of being, far Above
the trifling mind's obscure career, And mounting to Perfection, like a star |
|||
For whose triumphant flight heaven's crystalline gates unbar. | 1235 | ||
CVIII.
|
|||
My
love is strong as yon enduring Rock! Deep
as the thoughtful waters at its feet!- Oh!
could my willing voice find words t' unlock Its
depths, and free the sleeping echoes, fleet As the swift-footed chamois, they would greet |
1240 | ||
The
far-surrounding hills with such a tale Of
passion as had never left its seat Within the heart of man. The bounding gale, |
|||
And the low-whispering breeze, should chant it to the vale. | |||
CIX.
|
|||
And the dread Silence, seated on the brow | 1245 | ||
Of
the exalted Bluff, would start, and find An
hundred tongues to utter vow for vow; Startling
the bro In
the resounding woods. Like Truth enshrined Within the well, so in my steadfast soul |
1250 | ||
Love
waited for thee, as the patient mind Waits for the coming thought that will extol |
|||
Some lofty purpose struggling skyward to its goal. |
|||
CX.
|
|||
All,
all is thine, love, now: Each thought and hope In the long future must be shared with thee. |
1255 | ||
Lean
on my bosom; let my strong heart ope Its
founts of love, that the wild ecstacy That
quickens every pulse, and makes me free As
a God's wishes, may serenely move Thy inmost being with the mystery |
1260 | ||
Of the new life that has just dawned, and prove | |||
How unutterably deep and strong is Human Love. |