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THE ISLE OF PALM S.
CAN TO I.
As the sky whore she soars were a world
of her own, It is the midnight-hour:--the beauteous She mocketh that gentle Mighty One
As he lies in his quiet mood. Calm as the cloudless heaven, the heaven Art thon, she breathce, the Tyrant grim
That scoffs at human prayers,
discloses, While many a sparkling star, in quiet glee, Answering with prouder roar the while, Far down within the watery sky reposes.
As it riscs from some lonely isle As if the Ocean's heart were stirr'd
Through groans raised wild, the hopeless With inward life, a sound is heard,
hymn Like that of dreamer murmuring in his sleep; Oh! Thou art harmless as a child
Of shipwreck'd mariners ? "Tis partly the billow, and partly the air That lies like a garment floating fair
Weary with joy, and reconciled Above the happy deep.
For sleep to change its play; The sca, I ween, cannot be fann'd
And now that night hath stay'd thy race,
Smiles wander o'er thy placid face
As if thy dreams were gay-
And can it be that for me alone
The Main and Heavens are spread ? Encircled with a zone of love,
Oh! whither, in this holy hour,
Have those fair Creatures fled,
Might through this sea without a fear
Though the helmsman slept as if on land, On the waves that lend their gentle breast And the oar had droppidfrom the rower's hand. In gladness for her couch of rest!
How like a monarch would she glide,
With low and lulling tone,
Some stately Ship, that from afar
Shone sudden, like a rising star,
List! how in murmurs of delight
The blessed airs of Heaven invite
O grief! that yonder gentle Moon,
Should waste such smiles in vain.
Haste! haste! before the moonshine dies
Above the sparkling foam ;
Scattering fresh beanty from thy prow, For a thousand beings, now far away,
Behold thee in their sleep,
That a calm may clothe the deep. And lo! upon the murmuring waves When dimly descending behind the sea A glorious Shape appearing!
From the Mountain-Isle of Liberty, A broad-wing'd Vensel, through the shower Oh! many a sigh pursued thy vanish'd sail: Of glimmering lustre steering!
And oft an eager crowd will stand As if the beauteous ship enjoy'd
With straining gaze on the Indian strand, The beauty of the sea,
Thy wonted gleam to hail. She lifteth up her stately head
For thou art laden with Beauty and Youth, And saileth joyfully.
With Honour bold and spotless Truth, A lovely path before her lies,
With fathers, who have left in a home A lovely path behind;
of rest She sails amid the loveliness
Their infants smiling at the breast, Like a thing with heart and mind.
With children who have bade their parents Fit pilgrim through a scene so fair
farewell, Slowly she beareth on;
Or who go to the land where their parents A glorious phantom of the deep,
dwell. Risen up to meet the Moon.
God speed thy conrse, thou gleam of delight The Moon bids her tenderest radiance fall From rock and tempest clear; On her wavy streamer and snow-white wings, Till signal gun from friendly height And the quiet voice of the rocking sea Proclaim, with thundering cheer, To cheer the gliding vision sings.
To joyful groups on the harbour bright, Oh! ne'er did sky and water blend
That the good ship Hope is near!
Is no one on the silent deck
And the sailors who pace their midnightIt seems as if this weight of calm
watch, Were from eternity.
Still as the slumbering seas?
Close to the prow two figures stand,
And fondly as the moon doth rest
Upon the Ocean's gentle breast,
They gaze and gaze till the beauteons orb A vessel borne by magic galen,
Seems made for them alone: All rigg'd with gossamery sails,
They feel as if their home were Heaven, And bound for Fairy-land?
And the earth a dream that hath flown. Ah! no !-an earthly freight she bears, Softly they lean on each other's breast,
Of joys and sorrows, hopes and fears; In holy bliss reposing, ! And lonely as she seems to be,
Like two fair clouds to the vernal air, Thus lest by herself on the moonlight-sea In folds of benuty closing. In loneliness that rolls,
The tear down their glad faces rolls, She hath a constant company,
And a silent prayer is in their souls, In sleep, or waking revelry,
While the voice of awaken'd memory, Five hundred human souls !
Like a low and plaintive melody, Since first she sail'd from fair England, Sings in their hearts,-a mystic voice, Three moons her path have cheerd; That bids them tremble and rejoice. And another lights her lovelier lamp And Faith, who oft had lost her power Since the Cape hath disappear’d.
In the darkness of the midnight-hour, For an Indian Ikle she shapes her way When the planets had roll'd afar, With constant mind both night and day Now stirs in their soul with a joyful atrife, She seems to hold her home in view, Embued with a genial spirit of life And sails, as if the path she knew; By the Moon and the Morning-Star. So calm and stately is her motion Across th' unfathom'd trackless ocean.
A lovelier vision in the moonlight stande
Than Bard e'er woo'd in fairy-lands, And well, glad Vessel! mayat thou stem Or Faith with tranced eye adored, The tide with lofty brcart,
Floating around our dying Lord. And lift thy queen-like diadem
Her silent face is snintly-pale, O'er these thy realms of rest:
And sadness shades it like a veil:
A consccrated nun she seems,
When the glossy hues of the sunny spring Whose waking thoughts are deep as dreams, Are dancing on its breast, And in her hush'd and dim abode
With a winged glide this maiden would rove, For ever dwell upon her God,
An innocent phantom of beauty and love. Through the still fount of tears and sighe, Far from the haunts of men she grew And human sensibilities !
By the side of a lonesome tower,
Like some solitary mountain-flower,
Is only touch'd by the gales that breathe That lifts by fits her sable bair.
O'er the blossoms of the fragrant heath, These mild and melancholy eyes
And in its silence melts away Are dear unto the starry skies,
With those sweet things too purc for earthly As the dim effusion of their rays
day. Blends with the glimmering light that plays Blest was the lore that Nature taught O'er the blue heavens and snowy clouds, The infant's happy mind, The cloud-like sails and radiant shrouds. Even when each light and happy thought Fair creature! Thou dost seem to be Pass'd onwards like the wind, Some wandering spirit of the sea,
Nor longer seem'd to linger there That dearly loves the gleam of sails, Than the whispering sound in her raven-hair. And o'er them breathes propitions gales. Well was she known to each mountainHither thou comest, for one wild hour,
stream, With him thy sinless paramour,
As its own voice, or the fond moon-beam To gaze, while the wearied sailors sleep, That o'er its music play'd : On this beautiful phantom of the deep, The loneliest caves her footsteps heard, That seem'd to rise with the rising Moon. In lake and tarn ost nightly stirr'd -But the Queen of Night will be sinking The Maiden's ghost-like shade.
But she hath bidden a last farcwell Then will you, like two breaking waves, To lake and mountain, stream and dell, Sink softly to your coral cares,
And fresh have blown the gales Or, noiseless as the falling dew,
For many a mournful night and day,
Wafting the tall Ship far away
Nay! wrong her not, that Virgin bright!
And must thesc eyer,—80 soft and mild, Than ever flow'd from eyes
As angel's bright, as fairy's wild,
And now their spirit melting sad
Oh! must these eyes be steep'd in tears, The Sylph in viewless ether dwell,
Bedimmd with dreams of future years, In clouds her beauty shading!
Of what may yet betide My soul devotes ber music wild
An Orphan-Maid !—for in the night To one who is an earthly child,
She oft hath started with affright, Bat who, wandering through the midnight- To find herself a bride;
A bride oppress'd with fear and shame, Far from the shade of earthly bower, And bearing not Fitz-Owen's name. Bestows a tender loveliness,
This fearful dream oft haunts her bed, A deeper, holier quietness,
For she hath heard of maidens sold,
To Guilt and Age for gold;
Who smiled, when first they trod that shore,
An Orphan, helpless, sold, betray'd!
In waking thought she still retains
In strange mysterious dread.
Before her charmed view,
And the powerful beauty of the skies Soon as they felt the tremor cease,
He seem'd the very heart of peace;
He knew the shriek of wizard caves, To perfect peace hath changed despair. And the trampling fierce of howling waves. Low as we are, we blend our fate
The mystic voice of the lonely night, With things so beautifully great,
He had often drunk with a strange delight, And though opprest with heaviest grief, And look'd on the clouds as they roll'd on high, From Nature's bliss we draw relief, Till with them he sail'd on the sailing sky. Assured that God's most gracious eye And thus hath he learn'd to wake the lyre, Beholds us in our misery,
With something of a bardlike fire; And sende mild sound and lovely sight, Can tell in high empassion'd song, To change that misery to delight.
Of worlds that to the Bard belong, Such is thy faith, 0 sainted Maid!
And, till they feel his kindling breath, Pensive and pale, but not afraid
To others still and dark as death. Of Ocean or of Sky,
Yet oft, I ween, in gentler mood Though thou ne'er mayst see the land A humble kindners hush'd his blood,
And sweetly blended earth-born sighs And though awful be the lonely Main, With the Bard's romantit ecstasies. No fears hast thou to die.
The living world was dear to him, Whate'er betide of weal or woe,
And in his waking hours more bright it When the waves are asleep, or the tempests
More touching far, than when his fancy Thou wilt bear with calm devotion;
dream'd For duly every night and morn,
Of heavenly bowers, th'abode of Seraphim: Sweeter than Mermaid's strains, are borne And gladly from her wild sojourn Thy hymns along the Ocean.
Mid haunts dim-shadow'd in the realms of
Even like a wearied dove that flies for rest And who is He that fondly presses Back o'er long fields of air unto her nest, Close to his heart the silken tresses
His longing spirit homewards would return That hide her soften'd eyes,
To meet once more the smile of human kind. Whose heart her heaving bosom meets, And when at last a human soul he found, And through the midnight silence beats Pure as the thought of purity,-more mild To feel her rising sighs?
Than in its slumber seems a dreaming child Worthy the Youth, I ween, to rest When on his spirit stole the mystic sound, On the fair swellings of her breast, The voice, whose music sad no mortal ear Worthy to hush her inmost fears,
But his can rightly understand and hear, And kiss away her struggling tears: When a subduing smile like moonlight shone For never grovelling spirit stole
On him for ever, and for him alone, A woman's unpolluted soul!
Why should he seek this lower world to leave! To her the vestal fire is given;
For, whether now he love to joy or grieve, And only fire drawn pure from Heaven A friend he hath for sorrow or delight, Can on Love's holy shrine descend, Who lends fresh beauty to the morning-light, And there in clouds of fragrance blend. The tender stars in tenderer dimness shrouds, Well do I know that stately Youth ! And glorifies the Moon among her clouds. The broad day-light of cloudless truth Like a sun-beam bathes his face; Though silent, still a gracious smile, How would he gaze with reverent eye That rests upon his eyes the while, Upon that meek and pensive maid, Bestows a speaking grace.
Then fix his looks upon the sky That smile hath might of magic art, With moving lips as if he pray'd! To sway at will the stoniest heart,
Unto his sight bedimm'd with tears, As a ship obeys the gale;
How beautiful the Saint appears,And when his silver-voice is heard, Oh, all unlike a creature form'd of clay! The coldest blood is warmly stirr’d, The blessed angels with delight As at some glorious tale.
Might hail her Sister! She is bright The loftiest spirit never saw
And innocent as they. This Youth without a sudden awe:
Scarce dared he then that form to love! But vain the transient feeling strovo A solemn impulse from above Against the stealing power of love. All earthly hopes forbade,
And with a pure and holy flame,
Most passing sweet return.
Her upward face! She thinks on thee:
How beautiful such piety! Of all his future years ;
There in her lover's guardian arms And when he listen’d to her breath
She rests: and all the wild alarms So spiritual, nor pain nor death
Of waves or winds are hush'd, no more to rise. Seem'd longer worth his fears.
Of thee, and thee alone, she thinks : She loved him! She, the Child of Heaven! See! on her knees thy daughter sinks: And God would surely make
Sure God will bless the prayer that lights The soul to whom that love was given
such eyes! More perfect for her sake.
Didst thou e'er think thy child so fair? Each look, each word, of one so good The rapture of her granted prayer Devoutly he obey'd,
Hath breathed that awful beauty through And trusted that a gracious eye
her face. Would ever guide his destiny,
Once more upon the deck she stands, For whom in holy solitude
Slowly unclasps her pious hands, A kneeling Angel pray'd.
And brightening smiles, assured of heavenly
Thone days of tranquil joy are fled,
Oh, blessed pair! and, while I gaze,
Oh! could she now in magic glass
But list! a low and moaning sound At distance heard, like a spirit's song,