Port Talbot Poems in the Montreal Scribbler

By Adam Hood Burwell



Thou, that hast the crescent bow,
         Beam of even,
From the ocean’s breast so low,
Rise, thy soft effulgence show,
         Queen of heaven!


Sol has quenched his burning face
         In the sea;
He has run his daily race,
He resigns the starry space
         Unto thee.


Cheering is thy ushering ray,
         Sweet, though pale;
On the wave to see it play
Would I until midnight stray
         Down the dale.


Oh! thou dost illume the East,
         Pleasing sight!
Silvering the Ocean’s breast,
While the slumbering billows rest
         Still at night.


Clouds like floating seas of snow,
         Westward lie,
To the distant north they go,
Rolling deep, majestic, slow,
         Through the sky.


Blooming youths and maidens rove,
         By thy light,
O’er the mead and through the grove,
Prattling, toying, looking love,
         Half the night.


Nature lull’d in slumbers deep,
         Silence wooes;
Guardian spirits vigils keep,
While skies profusely weep
         Genial dews. [Page 18]


Undisturb’d, thy peaceful reign,
         Calmly’s borne,
O’er the mountain, wood and plain,
O’er the mirror-surfaced main,
         Till bright morn.


May this bosom never be
         Pain’d, distrest;
May it find, resembling thee,
Happiness, tranquility,
         Peace and rest.   



Port Talbot, U.C.

[A note by the Editor of the Scribbler]: “My readers will agree with me, that, for an uneducated muse, which Erieus professes his to be, this effusion possesses considerable poetic merit. Its simplicity and picturesque tranquility and unaffected beauties. As Erieus courts criticism, I will say, I think the measure is too short, and, being much in the sing-song style of Ambrose Phillips not sedate enough for the subject. The “mirror-surfaced main”, is one of the happiest expressions of poetic genius. I shall be gratified to hear from him again.” [Page 19]

* This poem appeared in The Scribbler (Montreal), I, 53-54, (9 August, 1821). [back]