Hark! what a furious clash of chains! Victim! thou never canst unlock The brazen bolts that root thee to the rock; Vain are thy struggles and convulsive strains. Wrung from the very depths of agonies; Now weaker moanings rise, till, worn with woes, The fainting wretch exhausted lies, And all again is grim repose. But still with throbbing breasts and steadfast eyes And as above them he resumed his flight, Th'arrested vessel shakes, The flapping main-sail quakes, And all seem'd turned to statues at the sight, All but the son of Bacchus, who With flashing eyes and visage red, Again uprear'd his bow and drew His longest arrow to the head.— When from the eagle's beak a drop of gore, The dews of terror stood, And all in awe-struck mood Ponder'd in silence on that omen horrid. The sun went down, and far into the gloom The monster shot away,-but none Of the bewilder'd Argonauts resume The vessel's guidance as her way she won. None spake none moved-all sate in blank dismay, Revolving in their minds this dread portent; And thus, abandon'd to the sway Of the blind wind and watery element, Through the whole night the Argo bore Those throbbing hearts along the Pontic shore. THE BIRTH OF THE INVISIBLE. O SCENE of enchantment! O vision of bliss! What Paradisaical glory is this! A garden! a garden! O rapturous sight! More stately in beauty, more rich in delight, Than any the Muse, in her leafiest hour, Has fabled of golden Hesperian bower, Or Fortunate Islands, or fields where the blest In Elysium's sylvan beatitudes rest. Lovely or rare, none can compare With this heaven on earth so surpassingly fair! Well, well may its flow'rets thus brightly expand, Lovely or rare, none can compare With this heaven on earth so surpassingly fair! What odorous incense upsprings from the sod, Which has lately been press'd by the foot of its God! What fragrance Sabæan the zephyrs exhale, Where celestial breath has been left on the gale! Behold! how the fruits deeply blush, where the sun Has stamp'd his first kiss upon every one! And hark! how the birds in sweet choral accord, Send their voices' first offerings up to the Lord! With this heaven on earth so surpassingly fair! |