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+
+The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Culprit Fay and Other Poems
+by Joseph Rodman Drake
+
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+The Culprit Fay and Other Poems
+
+by Joseph Rodman Drake
+
+August, 1995  [Etext #317]
+
+
+The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Culprit Fay and Other Poems
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+The Culprit Fay and Other Poems - Joseph Rodman Drake
+
+Scanned and proofed by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk
+
+****
+
+Contents
+
+The Culprit Fay
+To a Friend
+Leon
+Niagara
+Song
+Song
+Lines written in a Lady's Album
+Lines to a Lady
+Lines on leaving New Rochelle
+Hope
+Fragment
+To -
+Lines
+To Eva
+To a Lady with a Violet
+Bronx
+Song
+To Sarah
+The American Flag
+
+
+
+THE CULPRIT FAY.
+
+
+
+"My visual orbs are purged from film, and lo!
+"Instead of Anster's turnip-bearing vales
+"I see old fairy land's miraculous show!
+"Her trees of tinsel kissed by freakish gales,
+"Her Ouphs that, cloaked in leaf-gold, skim the breeze,
+"And fairies, swarming ----- "
+
+TENNANT'S ANSTER FAIR.
+
+
+I.
+
+'TIS the middle watch of a summer's night -
+The earth is dark, but the heavens are bright;
+Nought is seen in the vault on high
+But the moon, and the stars, and the cloudless sky,
+And the flood which rolls its milky hue,
+A river of light on the welkin blue.
+The moon looks down on old Cronest,
+She mellows the shades on his shaggy breast,
+And seems his huge gray form to throw
+In a sliver cone on the wave below;
+
+His sides are broken by spots of shade,
+By the walnut bough and the cedar made,
+And through their clustering branches dark
+Glimmers and dies the fire-fly's spark -
+Like starry twinkles that momently break
+Through the rifts of the gathering tempest's rack.
+
+II.
+
+The stars are on the moving stream,
+And fling, as its ripples gently flow,
+A burnished length of wavy beam
+In an eel-like, spiral line below;
+The winds are whist, and the owl is still,
+The bat in the shelvy rock is hid,
+And nought is heard on the lonely hill
+But the cricket's chirp, and the answer shrill
+Of the gauze-winged katy-did;
+And the plaint of the wailing whip-poor-will,
+Who moans unseen, and ceaseless sings,
+Ever a note of wail and wo,
+Till morning spreads her rosy wings,
+And earth and sky in her glances glow.
+
+III.
+
+'Tis the hour of fairy ban and spell:
+The wood-tick has kept the minutes well;
+He has counted them all with click and stroke,
+Deep in the heart of the mountain oak,
+And he has awakened the sentry elve
+Who sleeps with him in the haunted tree,
+To bid him ring the hour of twelve,
+And call the fays to their revelry;
+Twelve small strokes on his tinkling bell -
+('Twas made of the white snail's pearly shell:- )
+"Midnight comes, and all is well!
+Hither, hither, wing your way!
+'Tis the dawn of the fairy day."
+
+IV.
+
+They come from beds of lichen green,
+They creep from the mullen's velvet screen;
+Some on the backs of beetles fly
+From the silver tops of moon-touched trees,
+Where they swung in their cobweb hammocks high,
+And rock'd about in the evening breeze;
+Some from the hum-bird's downy nest -
+They had driven him out by elfin power,
+And pillowed on plumes of his rainbow breast,
+Had slumbered there till the charmed hour;
+Some had lain in the scoop of the rock,
+With glittering ising-stars inlaid;
+And some had opened the four-o'clock,
+And stole within its purple shade.
+And now they throng the moonlight glade,
+Above - below - on every side,
+Their little minim forms arrayed
+In the tricksy pomp of fairy pride!
+
+V.
+
+They come not now to print the lea,
+In freak and dance around the tree,
+Or at the mushroom board to sup,
+And drink the dew from the buttercup; -
+A scene of sorrow waits them now,
+For an Ouphe has broken his vestal vow;
+He has loved an earthly maid,
+And left for her his woodland shade;
+He has lain upon her lip of dew,
+And sunned him in her eye of blue,
+Fann'd her cheek with his wing of air,
+Played in the ringlets of her hair,
+And, nestling on her snowy breast,
+Forgot the lily-king's behest.
+For this the shadowy tribes of air
+To the elfin court must haste away:-
+And now they stand expectant there,
+To hear the doom of the Culprit Fay.
+
+VI.
+
+The throne was reared upon the grass
+Of spice-wood and of sassafras;
+On pillars of mottled tortoise-shell
+Hung the burnished canopy -
+And o'er it gorgeous curtains fell
+Of the tulip's crimson drapery.
+The monarch sat on his judgment-seat,
+On his brow the crown imperial shone,
+The prisoner Fay was at his feet,
+And his peers were ranged around the throne.
+He waved his sceptre in the air,
+He looked around and calmly spoke;
+His brow was grave and his eye severe,
+But his voice in a softened accent broke:
+
+VII.
+
+"Fairy! Fairy! list and mark,
+Thou hast broke thine elfin chain,
+Thy flame-wood lamp is quenched and dark,
+And thy wings are dyed with a deadly stain -
+Thou hast sullied thine elfin purity
+In the glance of a mortal maiden's eye,
+Thou hast scorned our dread decree,
+And thou shouldst pay the forfeit high,
+But well I know her sinless mind
+Is pure as the angel forms above,
+Gentle and meek, and chaste and kind,
+Such as a spirit well might love;
+Fairy! had she spot or taint,
+Bitter had been thy punishment.
+Tied to the hornet's shardy wings;
+Tossed on the pricks of nettles' stings;
+Or seven long ages doomed to dwell
+With the lazy worm in the walnut-shell;
+Or every night to writhe and bleed
+Beneath the tread of the centipede;
+Or bound in a cobweb dungeon dim,
+Your jailer a spider huge and grim,
+Amid the carrion bodies to lie,
+Of the worm, and the bug, and the murdered fly:
+These it had been your lot to bear,
+Had a stain been found on the earthly fair.
+Now list, and mark our mild decree -
+Fairy, this your doom must be:
+
+VIII.
+
+"Thou shalt seek the beach of sand
+Where the water bounds the elfin land,
+Thou shalt watch the oozy brine
+Till the sturgeon leaps in the bright moonshine,
+Then dart the glistening arch below,
+And catch a drop from his silver bow.
+The water-sprites will wield their arms
+And dash around, with roar and rave,
+And vain are the woodland spirits' charms,
+They are the imps that rule the wave.
+Yet trust thee in thy single might,
+If thy heart be pure and thy spirit right,
+Thou shalt win the warlock fight.
+
+IX.
+
+"If the spray-bead gem be won,
+The stain of thy wing is washed away,
+But another errand must be done
+Ere thy crime be lost for aye;
+Thy flame-wood lamp is quenched and dark,
+Thou must re-illume its spark.
+Mount thy steed and spur him high
+To the heaven's blue canopy;
+And when thou seest a shooting star,
+Follow it fast, and follow it far -
+The last faint spark of its burning train
+Shall light the elfin lamp again.
+Thou hast heard our sentence, Fay;
+Hence! to the water-side, away!"
+
+X.
+
+The goblin marked his monarch well;
+He spake not, but he bowed him low,
+Then plucked a crimson colen-bell,
+And turned him round in act to go.
+The way is long, he cannot fly,
+His soiled wing has lost its power,
+And he winds adown the mountain high,
+For many a sore and weary hour.
+Through dreary beds of tangled fern,
+Through groves of nightshade dark and dern,
+Over the grass and through the brake,
+Where toils the ant and sleeps the snake;
+Now o'er the violet's azure flush
+He skips along in lightsome mood;
+And now he thrids the bramble bush,
+Till its points are dyed in fairy blood.
+He has leapt the bog, he has pierced the briar,
+He has swum the brook, and waded the mire,
+Till his spirits sank, and his limbs grew weak,
+And the red waxed fainter in his cheek.
+He had fallen to the ground outright,
+For rugged and dim was his onward track,
+But there came a spotted toad in sight,
+And he laughed as he jumped upon her back;
+He bridled her mouth with a silk-weed twist;
+He lashed her sides with an osier thong;
+And now through evening's dewy mist,
+With leap and spring they bound along,
+Till the mountain's magic verge is past,
+And the beach of sand is reached at last.
+
+XI.
+
+Soft and pale is the moony beam,
+Moveless still the glassy stream,
+The wave is clear, the beach is bright
+With snowy shells and sparkling stones;
+The shore-surge comes in ripples light,
+In murmurings faint and distant moans;
+And ever afar in the silence deep
+Is heard the splash of the sturgeon's leap,
+And the bend of his graceful bow is seen -
+A glittering arch of silver sheen,
+Spanning the wave of burnished blue,
+And dripping with gems of the river dew.
+
+XII.
+
+The elfin cast a glance around,
+As he lighted down from his courser toad,
+Then round his breast his wings he wound,
+And close to the river's brink he strode;
+He sprang on a rock, he breathed a prayer,
+Above his head his arms he threw,
+Then tossed a tiny curve in air,
+And headlong plunged in the waters blue.
+
+XIII.
+
+Up sprung the spirits of the waves,
+From sea-silk beds in their coral caves,
+With snail-plate armour snatched in haste,
+They speed their way through the liquid waste;
+Some are rapidly borne along
+On the mailed shrimp or the prickly prong,
+Some on the blood-red leeches glide,
+Some on the stony star-fish ride,
+Some on the back of the lancing squab,
+Some on the sidelong soldier-crab;
+And some on the jellied quarl, that flings
+At once a thousand streamy stings -
+They cut the wave with the living oar
+And hurry on to the moonlight shore,
+To guard their realms and chase away
+The footsteps of the invading Fay.
+
+XIV.
+
+Fearlessly he skims along,
+His hope is high, and his limbs are strong,
+He spreads his arms like the swallow's wing,
+And throws his feet with a frog-like fling;
+His locks of gold on the waters shine,
+At his breast the tiny foam-beads rise,
+His back gleams bright above the brine,
+And the wake-line foam behind him lies.
+But the water-sprites are gathering near
+To check his course along the tide;
+Their warriors come in swift career
+And hem him round on every side;
+On his thigh the leech has fixed his hold,
+The quarl's long arms are round him roll'd,
+The prickly prong has pierced his skin,
+And the squab has thrown his javelin,
+The gritty star has rubbed him raw,
+And the crab has struck with his giant claw;
+He howls with rage, and he shrieks with pain,
+He strikes around, but his blows are vain;
+Hopeless is the unequal fight,
+Fairy! nought is left but flight.
+
+XV.
+
+He turned him round and fled amain
+With hurry and dash to the beach again;
+He twisted over from side to side,
+And laid his cheek to the cleaving tide.
+The strokes of his plunging arms are fleet,
+And with all his might he flings his feet,
+But the water-sprites are round him still,
+To cross his path and work him ill.
+They bade the wave before him rise;
+They flung the sea-fire in his eyes,
+And they stunned his ears with the scallop stroke,
+With the porpoise heave and the drum-fish croak.
+Oh! but a weary wight was he
+When he reached the foot of the dog-wood tree;
+- Gashed and wounded, and stiff and sore,
+He laid him down on the sandy shore;
+He blessed the force of the charmed line,
+And he banned the water-goblin's spite,
+For he saw around in the sweet moonshine,
+Their little wee faces above the brine,
+Giggling and laughing with all their might
+At the piteous hap of the Fairy wight.
+
+XVI.
+
+Soon he gathered the balsam dew
+From the sorrel leaf and the henbane bud;
+Over each wound the balm he drew,
+And with cobweb lint he stanched the blood.
+The mild west wind was soft and low,
+It cooled the heat of his burning brow,
+And he felt new life in his sinews shoot,
+As he drank the juice of the cal'mus root;
+And now he treads the fatal shore,
+As fresh and vigorous as before.
+
+XVII.
+
+Wrapped in musing stands the sprite:
+'Tis the middle wane of night,
+His task is hard, his way is far,
+But he must do his errand right
+Ere dawning mounts her beamy car,
+And rolls her chariot wheels of light;
+And vain are the spells of fairy-land,
+He must work with a human hand.
+
+XVIII.
+
+He cast a saddened look around,
+But he felt new joy his bosom swell,
+When, glittering on the shadowed ground,
+He saw a purple muscle shell;
+Thither he ran, and he bent him low,
+He heaved at the stern and he heaved at the bow,
+And he pushed her over the yielding sand,
+Till he came to the verge of the haunted land.
+She was as lovely a pleasure boat
+As ever fairy had paddled in,
+For she glowed with purple paint without,
+And shone with silvery pearl within;
+A sculler's notch in the stern he made,
+An oar he shaped of the bootle blade;
+Then spung to his seat with a lightsome leap,
+And launched afar on the calm blue deep.
+
+XIX.
+
+The imps of the river yell and rave;
+They had no power above the wave,
+But they heaved the billow before the prow,
+And they dashed the surge against her side,
+And they struck her keel with jerk and blow,
+Till the gunwale bent to the rocking tide.
+She wimpled about in the pale moonbeam,
+Like a feather that floats on a wind tossed-stream;
+And momently athwart her track
+The quarl upreared his island back,
+And the fluttering scallop behind would float,
+And patter the water about the boat;
+But he bailed her out with his colen-bell,
+And he kept her trimmed with a wary tread,
+While on every side like lightening fell
+The heavy strokes of his bootle-blade.
+
+XX.
+
+Onward still he held his way,
+Till he came where the column of moonshine lay,
+And saw beneath the surface dim
+The brown-backed sturgeon slowly swim:
+Around him were the goblin train -
+But he sculled with all his might and main,
+And followed wherever the sturgeon led,
+Till he saw him upward point his head;
+Then he dropped his paddle blade,
+And held his colen goblet up
+To catch the drop in its crimson cup.
+
+XXI.
+
+With sweeping tail and quivering fin,
+Through the wave the sturgeon flew,
+And, like the heaven-shot javelin,
+He sprug above the waters blue.
+Instant as the star-fall light,
+He plunged him in the deep again,
+But left an arch of silver bright
+The rainbow of the moony main.
+It was a strange and lovely sight
+To see the puny goblin there;
+He seemed an angel form of light,
+With azure wing and sunny hair,
+Throned on a cloud of purple fair,
+Circled with blue and edged with white,
+And sitting at the fall of even
+Beneath the bow of summer heaven.
+
+XXII.
+
+A moment and its lustre fell,
+But ere it met the billow blue,
+He caught within his crimson bell,
+A droplet of its sparkling dew -
+Joy to thee, Fay! thy task is done,
+Thy wings are pure, for the gem is won -
+Cheerly ply thy dripping oar,
+And haste away to the elfin shore.
+
+XXIII.
+
+He turns, and lo! on either side
+The ripples on his path divide;
+And the track o'er which his boat must pass
+Is smooth as a sheet of polished glass.
+Around, their limbs the sea-nymphs lave,
+With snowy arms half swelling out,
+While on the glossed and gleamy wave
+Their sea-green ringlets loosely float;
+They swim around with smile and song;
+They press the bark with pearly hand,
+And gently urge her course along,
+Toward the beach of speckled sand;
+And, as he lightly leapt to land,
+They bade adieu with nod and bow,
+Then gayly kissed each little hand,
+And dropped in the crystal deep below.
+
+XXIV.
+
+A moment staied the fairy there;
+He kissed the beach and breathed a prayer,
+Then spread his wings of gilded blue,
+And on to the elfin court he flew;
+As ever ye saw a bubble rise,
+And shine with a thousand changing dyes,
+Till lessening far through ether driven,
+It mingles with the hues of heaven:
+As, at the glimpse of morning pale,
+The lance-fly spreads his silken sail,
+And gleams with blendings soft and bright,
+Till lost in the shades of fading night;
+So rose from earth the lovely Fay -
+So vanished, far in heaven away!
+
+* * * * * * * * *
+
+Up, Fairy! quit thy chick-weed bower,
+The cricket has called the second hour,
+Twice again, and the lark will rise
+To kiss the streaking of the skies -
+Up! thy charmed armour don,
+Thou'lt need it ere the night be gone.
+
+XXV.
+
+He put his acorn helmet on;
+It was plumed of the silk of the thistle down:
+The corslet plate that guarded his breast
+Was once the wild bee's golden vest;
+His cloak, of a thousand mingled dyes,
+Was formed of the wings of butterflies;
+His shield was the shell of a lady-bug queen,
+Studs of gold on a ground of green;
+And the quivering lance which he brandished bright,
+Was the sting of a wasp he had slain in fight.
+Swift he bestrode his fire-fly steed;
+He bared his blade of the bent grass blue;
+He drove his spurs of the cockle seed,
+And away like a glance of thought he flew,
+To skim the heavens and follow far
+The fiery trail of the rocket-star.
+
+XXVI.
+
+The moth-fly, as he shot in air,
+Crept under the leaf, and hid her there;
+The katy-did forgot its lay,
+The prowling gnat fled fast away,
+The fell mosqueto checked his drone
+And folded his wings till the Fay was gone,
+And the wily beetle dropped his head,
+And fell on the ground as if he were dead;
+They crouched them close in the darksome shade,
+They quaked all o'er with awe and fear,
+For they had felt the blue-bent blade,
+And writhed at the prick of the elfin spear;
+Many a time on a summer's night,
+When the sky was clear and the moon was bright,
+They had been roused from the haunted ground,
+By the yelp and bay of the fairy hound;
+They had heard the tiny bugle horn,
+They had heard of twang of the maize-silk string,
+When the vine-twig bows were tightly drawn,
+And the nettle-shaft through the air was borne,
+Feathered with down the hum-bird's wing.
+And now they deemed the courier ouphe,
+Some hunter sprite of the elfin ground;
+And they watched till they saw him mount the roof
+That canopies the world around;
+Then glad they left their covert lair,
+And freaked about in the midnight air.
+
+XXVII.
+
+Up to the vaulted firmament
+His path the fire-fly courser bent,
+And at every gallop on the wind,
+He flung a glittering spark behind;
+He flies like a feather in the blast
+Till the first light cloud in heaven is past,
+But the shapes of air have begun their work,
+And a drizzly mist is round him cast,
+He cannot see through the mantle murk,
+He shivers with cold, but he urges fast,
+Through storm and darkness, sleet and shade,
+He lashes his steed and spurs amain,
+For shadowy hands have twitched the rein,
+And flame-shot tongues around him played,
+And near him many a fiendish eye
+Glared with a fell malignity,
+And yells of rage, and shrieks of fear,
+Came screaming on his startled ear.
+
+XXVIII.
+
+His wings are wet around his breast,
+The plume hangs dripping from his crest,
+His eyes are blur'd with the lightning's glare,
+And his ears are stunned with the thunder's blare,
+But he gave a shout, and his blade he drew,
+He thrust before and he struck behind,
+Till he pierced their cloudy bodies through,
+And gashed their shadowy limbs of wind;
+Howling the misty spectres flew,
+They rend the air with frightful cries,
+For he has gained the welkin blue,
+And the land of clouds beneath him lies.
+
+XXIX.
+
+Up to the cope careering swift
+In breathless motion fast,
+Fleet as the swallow cuts the drift,
+Or the sea-roc rides the blast,
+The sapphire sheet of eve is shot,
+The sphered moon is past,
+The earth but seems a tiny blot
+On a sheet of azure cast.
+O! it was sweet in the clear moonlight,
+To tread the starry plain of even,
+To meet the thousand eyes of night,
+And feel the cooling breath of heaven!
+But the Elfin made no stop or stay
+Till he came to the bank of the milky-way,
+Then he checked his courser's foot,
+And watched for the glimpse of the planet-shoot.
+
+XXX.
+
+Sudden along the snowy tide
+That swelled to meet their footstep's fall,
+The sylphs of heaven were seen to glide,
+Attired in sunset's crimson pall;
+Around the Fay they weave the dance,
+They skip before him on the plain,
+And one has taken his wasp-sting lance,
+And one upholds his bridle rein;
+With warblings wild they lead him on
+To where through clouds of amber seen,
+Studded with stars, resplendent shone
+The palace of the sylphid queen.
+Its spiral columns gleaming bright
+Were streamers of the northern light;
+Its curtain's light and lovely flush
+Was of the morning's rosy blush,
+And the ceiling fair that rose aboon
+The white and feathery fleece of noon.
+
+XXXI.
+
+But oh! how fair the shape that lay
+Beneath a rainbow bending bright,
+She seemed to the entranced Fay
+The loveliest of the forms of light;
+Her mantle was the purple rolled
+At twilight in the west afar;
+'Twas tied with threads of dawning gold,
+And buttoned with a sparkling star.
+Her face was like the lily roon
+That veils the vestal planet's hue;
+Her eyes, two beamlets from the moon,
+Set floating in the welkin blue.
+Her hair is like the sunny beam,
+And the diamond gems which round it gleam
+Are the pure drops of dewy even
+That ne'er have left their native heaven.
+
+XXXII.
+
+She raised her eyes to the wondering sprite,
+And they leapt with smiles, for well I ween
+Never before in the bowers of light
+Had the form of an earthly Fay been seen.
+Long she looked in his tiny face;
+Long with his butterfly cloak she played;
+She smoothed his wings of azure lace,
+And handled the tassel of his blade;
+And as he told in accents low
+The story of his love and wo,
+She felt new pains in her bosom rise,
+And the tear-drop started in her eyes.
+And 'O sweet spirit of earth,' she cried,
+'Return no more to your woodland height,
+But ever here with me abide
+In the land of everlasting light!
+Within the fleecy drift we'll lie,
+We'll hang upon the rainbow's rim;
+And all the jewels of the sky
+Around thy brow shall brightly beam!
+And thou shalt bathe thee in the stream
+That rolls its whitening foam aboon,
+And ride upon the lightning's gleam,
+And dance upon the orbed moon!
+We'll sit within the Pleiad ring,
+We'll rest on Orion's starry belt,
+And I will bid my sylphs to sing
+The song that makes the dew-mist melt;
+Their harps are of the umber shade,
+That hides the blush of waking day,
+And every gleamy string is made
+Of silvery moonshine's lengthened ray;
+And thou shalt pillow on my breast,
+While heavenly breathings float around,
+And, with the sylphs of ether blest,
+Forget the joys of fairy ground.'
+
+XXXIII.
+
+She was lovely and fair to see
+And the elfin's heart beat fitfully;
+But lovelier far, and still more fair,
+The earthly form imprinted there;
+Nought he saw in the heavens above
+Was half so dear as his mortal love,
+For he thought upon her looks so meek,
+And he thought of the light flush on her cheek;
+Never again might he bask and lie
+On that sweet cheek and moonlight eye,
+But in his dreams her form to see,
+To clasp her in his reverie,
+To think upon his virgin bride,
+Was worth all heaven and earth beside.
+
+XXXIV.
+
+'Lady,' he cried, 'I have sworn to-night,
+On the word of a fairy knight,
+To do my sentence-task aright;
+My honour scarce is free from stain,
+I may not soil its snows again;
+Betide me weal, betide me wo,
+Its mandate must be answered now.'
+Her bosom heaved with many a sigh,
+The tear was in her drooping eye;
+But she led him to the palace gate,
+And called the sylphs who hovered there,
+And bade them fly and bring him straight
+Of clouds condensed a sable car.
+With charm and spell she blessed it there,
+From all the fiends of upper air;
+Then round him cast the shadowy shroud,
+And tied his steed behind the cloud;
+And pressed his hand as she bade him fly
+Far to the verge of the northern sky,
+For by its wane and wavering light
+There was a star would fall to-night.
+
+XXXV.
+
+Borne after on the wings of the blast,
+Northward away, he speeds him fast,
+And his courser follows the cloudy wain
+Till the hoof-strokes fall like pattering rain.
+The clouds roll backward as he flies,
+Each flickering star behind him lies,
+And he has reached the northern plain,
+And backed his fire-fly steed again,
+Ready to follow in its flight
+The streaming of the rocket-light.
+
+XXXVI.
+
+The star is yet in the vault of heaven,
+But its rocks in the summer gale;
+And now 'tis fitful and uneven,
+And now 'tis deadly pale;
+And now 'tis wrapp'd in sulphur smoke,
+And quenched is its rayless beam,
+And now with a rattling thunder-stroke
+It bursts in flash and flame.
+As swift as the glance of the arrowy lance
+That the storm-spirit flings from high,
+The star-shot flew o'er the welkin blue,
+As it fell from the sheeted sky.
+As swift as the wind in its trail behind
+The elfin gallops along,
+The fiends of the clouds are bellowing loud,
+But the sylphid charm is strong;
+He gallops unhurt in the shower of fire,
+While the cloud-fiends fly from the blaze;
+He watches each flake till its sparks expire,
+And rides in the light of its rays.
+But he drove his steed to the lightning's speed,
+And caught a glimmering spark;
+Then wheeled around to the fairy ground,
+And sped through the midnight dark.
+
+* * * * * * * * *
+
+Ouphe and goblin! imp and sprite!
+Elf of eve! and starry Fay!
+Ye that love the moon's soft light,
+Hither - hither wend your way;
+Twine ye in the jocund ring,
+Sing and trip it merrily,
+Hand to hand, and wing to wing,
+Round the wild witch-hazel tree.
+
+Hail the wanderer again,
+With dance and song, and lute and lyre,
+Pure his wing and strong his chain,
+And doubly bright his fairy fire.
+Twine ye in an airy round,
+Brush the dew and print the lea;
+Skip and gambol, hop and bound,
+Round the wild witch-hazel tree.
+
+The beetle guards our holy ground,
+He flies about the haunted place,
+And if mortal there be found,
+He hums in his ears and flaps his face;
+The leaf-harp sounds our roundelay,
+The owlet's eyes our lanterns be;
+Thus we sing, and dance and play,
+Round the wild witch-hazel tree.
+
+But hark! from tower on tree-top high,
+The sentry elf his call has made,
+A streak is in the eastern sky,
+Shapes of moonlight! flit and fade!
+The hill-tops gleam in morning's spring,
+The sky-lark shakes his dappled wing,
+The day-glimpse glimmers on the lawn,
+The cock has crowed, the Fays are gone.
+
+
+
+TO A FRIEND.
+
+
+
+"You damn me with faint praise."
+
+
+YES, faint was my applause and cold my praise,
+Though soul was glowing in each polished line;
+But nobler subjects claim the poet's lays,
+A brighter glory waits a muse like thine.
+Let amorous fools in love-sick measure pine;
+Let Strangford whimper on, in fancied pain,
+And leave to Moore his rose leaves and his vine;
+Be thine the task a higher crown to gain,
+The envied wreath that decks the patriot's holy strain.
+
+II.
+
+Yet not in proud triumphal song alone,
+Or martial ode, or sad sepulchral dirge,
+There needs no voice to make our glories known;
+There needs no voice the warrior's soul to urge
+To tread the bounds of nature's stormy verge;
+Columbia still shall win the battle's prize;
+But be it thine to bid her mind emerge
+To strike her harp, until its soul arise
+From the neglected shade, where low in dust it lies.
+
+III.
+
+Are there no scenes to touch the poet's soul?
+No deeds of arms to wake the lordly strain?
+Shall Hudson's billows unregarded roll?
+Has Warren fought, Montgomery died in vain?
+Shame! that while every mountain stream and plain
+Hath theme for truth's proud voice or fancy's wand,
+No native bard the patriot harp hath ta'en,
+But left to minstrels of a foreign strand
+To sing the beauteous scenes of nature's loveliest land.
+
+IV.
+
+Oh! for a seat on Appalachia's brow,
+That I might scan the glorious prospect round,
+Wild waving woods, and rolling floods below,
+Smooth level glades and fields with grain embrown'd,
+High heaving hills, with tufted forests crown'd,
+Rearing their tall tops to the heaven's blue dome,
+And emerald isles, like banners green unwound,
+Floating along the lake, while round them roam
+Bright helms of billowy blue and plumes of dancing foam.
+
+V.
+
+'Tis true no fairies haunt our verdant meads,
+No grinning imps deform our blazing hearth;
+Beneath the kelpie's fang no traveller bleeds,
+Nor gory vampyre taints our holy earth,
+Nor spectres stalk to frighten harmless mirth,
+Nor tortured demon howls adown the gale;
+Fair reason checks these monsters in their birth.
+Yet have we lay of love and horrid tale
+Would dim the manliest eye and make the bravest pale.
+
+VI.
+
+Where is the stony eye that hath not shed
+Compassion's heart-drops o'er the sweet Mc Rea?
+Through midnight's wilds by savage bandits led,
+"Her heart is sad - her love is far away!"
+Elate that lover waits the promised day
+When he shall clasp his blooming bride again -
+Shine on, sweet visions! dreams of rapture, play!
+Soon the cold corse of her he loved in vain
+Shall blight his withered heart and fire his frenzied brain.
+
+VII.
+
+Romantic Wyoming! could none be found
+Of all that rove thy Eden groves among,
+To wake a native harp's untutored sound,
+And give thy tale of wo the voice of song?
+Oh! if description's cold and nerveless tongue
+From stranger harps such hallowed strains could call,
+How doubly sweet the descant wild had rung,
+From one who, lingering round thy ruined wall,
+Had plucked thy mourning flowers and wept thy timeless fall.
+
+VIII.
+
+The Huron chief escaped from foemen nigh,
+His frail bark launches on Niagara's tides,
+"Pride in his port, defiance in his eye,"
+Singing his song of death the warrior glides;
+In vain they yell along the river sides,
+In vain the arrow from its sheaf is torn,
+Calm to his doom the willing victim rides,
+And, till adown the roaring torrent borne,
+Mocks them with gesture proud, and laughs their rage to scorn.
+
+IX.
+
+But if the charms of daisied hill and vale,
+And rolling flood, and towering rock sublime,
+If warrior deed or peasant's lowly tale
+Of love or wo should fail to wake the rhyme,
+If to the wildest heights of song you climb,
+(Tho' some who know you less, might cry, beware!)
+Onward! I say - your strains shall conquer time;
+Give your bright genius wing, and hope to share
+Imagination's worlds - the ocean, earth, and air.
+
+X.
+
+Arouse, my friend - let vivid fancy soar,
+Look with creative eye on nature's face,
+Bid airy sprites in wild Niagara roar,
+And view in every field a fairy race.
+Spur thy good Pacolet to speed apace,
+And spread a train of nymphs on every shore;
+Or if thy muse would woo a ruder grace,
+The Indian's evil Manitou's explore,
+And rear the wondrous tale of legendary lore.
+
+XI.
+
+Away! to Susquehannah's utmost springs,
+Where, throned in mountain mist, Areouski reigns,
+Shrouding in lurid clouds his plumeless wings,
+And sternly sorrowing o'er his tribes remains;
+His was the arm, like comet ere it wanes
+That tore the streamy lightnings from the skies,
+And smote the mammoth of the southern plains;
+Wild with dismay the Creek affrighted flies,
+While in triumphant pride Kanawa's eagles rise.
+
+XII.
+
+Or westward far, where dark Miami wends,
+Seek that fair spot as yet to fame unknown;
+Where, when the vesper dew of heaven descends,
+Soft music breathes in many a melting tone,
+At times so sadly sweet it seems the moan
+Of some poor Ariel penanced in the rock;
+Anon a louder burst - a scream! a groan!
+And now amid the tempest's reeling shock,
+Gibber, and shriek, and wail - and fiend-like laugh and mock.
+
+XIII.
+
+Or climb the Pallisado's lofty brows,
+Were dark Omana waged the war of hell,
+Till, waked to wrath, the mighty spirit rose
+And pent the demons in their prison cell;
+Full on their head the uprooted mountain fell,
+Enclosing all within its horrid womb
+Straight from the teeming earth the waters swell,
+And pillared rocks arise in cheerless gloom
+Around the drear abode - their last eternal tomb!
+
+XIV.
+
+Be these your future themes - no more resign
+The soul of song to laud your lady's eyes;
+Go! kneel a worshipper at nature's shrine!
+For you her fields are green, and fair her skies!
+For you her rivers flow, her hills arise!
+And will you scorn them all, to pour forth tame
+And heartless lays of feigned or fancied sighs?
+Still will you cloud the muse? nor blush for shame
+To cast away renown, and hide your head from fame?
+
+
+
+EXTRACTS FROM LEON.  AN UNFINISHED POEM.
+
+
+
+IT is a summer evening, calm and fair,
+A warm, yet freshening glow is in the air;
+Along its bank, the cool stream wanders slow,
+Like parting friends that linger as they go.
+The willows, as its waters meekly glide,
+Bend their dishevelled tresses to the tide,
+And seem to give it, with a moaning sigh,
+A farewell touch of tearful sympathy.
+Each dusky copse is clad in darkest green:
+A blackening mass, just edged with silver sheen
+From yon clear moon, who in her glassy face
+Seems to reflect the risings of the place.
+For on her still, pale orb, the eye may see
+Dim spots of shadowy brown, like distant tree
+Or far-off hillocks on a moonlight lea.
+
+The stars have lit in heaven their lamps of gold,
+The viewless dew falls lightly on the wold,
+The gentle air, that softly sweeps the leaves,
+A strain of faint, unearthly music weaves;
+As when the harp of heaven remotely plays,
+Or cygnet's wail - or song of sorrowing fays
+That float amid the moonshine glimmerings pale,
+On wings of woven air in some enchanted vale.
+
+It is an eve that drops a heavenly balm,
+To lull the feelings to a sober calm,
+To bid wild passion's fiery flush depart;
+And smooth the troubled waters of the heart;
+To give a tranquil fixedness to grief,
+A cherished gloom, that wishes not relief.
+
+Torn is that heart, and bitter are its throes,
+That cannot feel on such a night, repose;
+And yet one breast there is that breathes this air,
+An eye that wanders o'er the prospect fair,
+That sees yon placid moon, and the pure sky
+Of mild, unclouded blue; and still that eye
+Is thrown in restless vacancy around,
+Or cast, in gloomy trance, on the cold ground;
+And still, that breast with maddening passion burns,
+And hatred, love, and sorrow, rule by turns.
+
+A lovely figure! and in happier hour,
+When pleasure laugh'd abroad from hall and bower,
+The general eye had deem'd her smiling face
+The brightest jewel in the courtly place:
+So glossy is her hair's ensabled wreath,
+So glowing warm the eye that burns beneath
+With so much graceful sweetness of address,
+And such a form of rounded slenderness;
+Ah! where is he on whom these beauties shine,
+But deems a spotless soul inhabits such a shrine?
+
+And yet a keen observer might espy
+Strange passions lurking in her deep black eye,
+And in the lines of her fine lip, a soul
+That in its every feeling spurned control.
+They passed unnoted - who will stop to trace
+A sullying spot on beauty's sparkling face?
+And no one deemed, amid her glances sweet,
+Hers was a bosom of impetuous heat;
+A heart too wildly in its joys elate,
+Formed but to madly love - or madly hate;
+A spirit of strong throbs, and steadfast will;
+To doat, detest, to die for, or to kill;
+Which, like the Arab chief, would fiercely dare
+To stab the heart she might no longer share;
+And yet so tender, if he loved again,
+Would die to save his breast one moment's pain.
+
+But he who cast his gaze upon her now,
+And read the traces written on her brow,
+Had scarce believed hers was that form of light
+That beamed like fabled wonder on the sight;
+Her raven hair hung down in loosen'd tress
+Before her wan cheek's pallid ghastliness;
+And, thro' its thick locks, showed the deadly white,
+Like marble glimpses of a tomb, at night.
+In fixed and horrid musings now she stands,
+Her eyes now bent to earth, and her cold hands,
+Prest to her heart, now wildly thrown on high,
+They wander o'er her brow - and now a sigh
+Breaks deep and full - and, more composedly,
+She half exclaims - "No! no! - it cannot be;
+"He loves not, never loved -  not even when
+"He pressed my wedded hand - I knew it then;
+"And yet - fool that I was - I saw he strove
+"In vain to kindle pity into love.
+"But Florence! she so loved - a sister too!
+"My earliest, dearest playmate - one who grew
+"Upon my very heart - to rend it so!
+"His falsehood I could bear - but hers! ah! no.
+"She is not false - I feel she loves me yet,
+"And if my boding bosom could forget
+"Its wild imaginings, with what sweet pain
+"I'd clasp my Florence to my breast again."
+With that came many a thought of days gone by,
+Remembered joys of mirthful infancy;
+And youth's gay frolic, and the short-lived flow
+Of showering tears, in childhood's fleeting wo,
+And life's maturer friendship - and the sense
+Of heart-warm, open, fearless confidence;
+All these came thronging with a tender call,
+And her own Florence mingled with them all.
+And softened feelings rose amid her pain,
+While from her eyes, the clouds, melted in gentle rain.
+
+A hectic pleasure flushed her faded face;
+It fled - and deeper paleness took its place;
+Then a cold shudder thrill'd her - and, at last,
+Her lip a smile of bitter sarcasm cast,
+As if she scorned herself, that she could be
+A moment lulled by that sweet sophistry;
+For in that little minute memory's sting
+Gave word and look, sigh, gesture - every thing,
+To bid these dear delusive phantoms fly,
+And fix her fears in dreadful certainty.
+
+It traced the very progress of their love,
+From the first meeting in the locust grove;
+When from the chase Leon came bounding there,
+Backing his courser with a noble air;
+His brown cheek flushed with healthful exercise,
+And his warm spirits leaping in his eyes;
+It told how lovely looked her sister then,
+To long-lost friends, and home just come again;
+How on her cheek the tears of meeting lay,
+That tear which only feeling hearts can pay;
+While the quick pleasure glistened in her eye,
+Like clouds and sunshine in an April sky;
+And then it told, as their acquaintance grew,
+How close the unseen bonds of union drew
+Their souls together, and how pleased they were
+The same blythe pastimes and delights to share;
+How the same chord in each at once would strike,
+Their taste, their wishes, and their joys alike.
+
+All this was innocent, but soon there came
+Blushes and starts of consciousness and shame;
+That, when she entered, upon either cheek
+The hasty blood in guilty red would speak
+Of something that should not be known - and still
+Sighs half suppressed seemed struggling with the will.
+
+It told how oft at eve was Leon gone
+In moody wandering to the wood alone;
+And in the night, how many a broken dream
+Of bliss, or terror, seemed to shake his frame.
+How Florence too, in long abstracted fit
+Of soul-wrapt musing, for whole hours would sit;
+Nor even the power of music, friend, or book,
+Could chase her deep forgetfulness of look;
+And how, when questioned - with an indrawn sigh,
+In vague and far-off phrase, she made reply,
+And smiled and struggled to be gay and free,
+And then relapsed in dreaming reverie.
+How when of Leon she was forced to speak,
+Unbidden crimson mantled in her cheek;
+And when he entered, how her eye would swim,
+And strive to look on every one but him;
+Yet, by unconscious fascination led,
+In quick short glance each moment tow'rds him fled.
+How he, too, seemed to shun her speech and gaze,
+And yet he always lingered where she was;
+Though nothing in his aspect or his air
+Told that he knew she was in presence there;
+But an appearance of constrained distress,
+And a dull tongue of moveless silentness,
+And a down drooping eye of gloom and sadness,
+Oh! how unlike his former face of gladness.
+"'Tis plain! too plain! and I am lost," she cried;
+And in that thought her last good feeling died.
+
+That thought of hopeless sorrow seemed to dart
+A thousand stings at once into her heart;
+But a strong effort quelled it, and she gave
+The next to hatred, vengeance, and the grave.
+Her face was calmly stern, and but a glare
+Within her eyes - there was no feature there
+That told what lashing fiends her inmates were;
+Within - there was no thought to bid her swerve
+From her intent - but every strained nerve
+Was settled and bent up with terrible force,
+To some deep deed, far, far beyond remorse;
+No glimpse of mercy's light her purpose crost,
+Love, nature, pity, in its depths were lost;
+Or lent an added fury to the ire
+That seared her soul with unconsuming fire;
+All that was dear in the wide earth was gone,
+She loved but two, and these she doted on
+With passionate ardour - and the close strong press
+Of woman's heart-cored, clinging tenderness;
+These links were torn, and now she stood alone,
+Bereft of all, her husband, sister - gone!
+
+Ah! who can tell that ne'er has known such fate,
+What wild and dreadful strength it gives to hate?
+What had she left? Revenge!  Revenge! was there;
+He crushed remorse and wrestled down despair:
+Held his red torch to memory's page, and threw
+A bloody stain on every line she drew;
+She felt dark pleasure with her frenzy blend,
+And hugged him to her heart, and called him friend.
+
+When sorrowing clouds the face of heaven deform,
+And hope's bright star sets darkly in the storm,
+Around us ghastly shapes and phantoms swim,
+And all beyond is formless, vague, and dim,
+Or life's cold barren path before us lies,
+A wild and weary waste of tears and sighs;
+From the lorn heart each sweetening solace gone,
+Abandoned, friendless, withered, lost, and lone;
+And when with keener pangs we bleed to know
+That hands beloved have struck the deepest blow;
+That friends we deemed most true, and held most dear,
+Have stretched the pall of death o'er pleasure's bier;
+Repaid our trusting faith with serpent guile,
+Cursed with a kiss, and stabbed beneath a smile;
+What then remains for souls of tender mould?
+One last and silent refuge, calm and cold -
+A resting place for misery's gentle slave;
+Hearts break but once, no wrongs can reach the grave.
+
+Rest ye, mild spirits of afflicted worth!
+Sweet is your slumber in the quiet earth;
+And soon the voice of heaven shall bid you rise
+To meet rewarding smiles in yonder skies.
+But where, for solace, shall the bosom turn
+For death too strong - for tears - too proudly stern?
+When shall the lulling dews of peace descend
+On hearts that cannot break and will not bend?
+Ah! never, never - they are doomed to feel
+Pains that no balm of heaven or earth can heal;
+To live in groans, and yield their parting breath
+Without a joy in life - or hope in death.
+Yet, for a while, one living hope remains,
+That nerves each fibre and the soul sustains;
+One desperate hope, whose agonizing throes
+Are bitterer far than all the worst of woes;
+A hope of crime and horrors, wild and strange
+As demon thoughts - that hope is thine, Revenge!
+
+'Twas this that gave, oh! Ellinor, to thee
+A strength to bear thy matchless misery:
+Though the hot blood ran boiling in her brain,
+And rolled a tide of fire through every vein,
+Though many a rushing voice of blighted bliss
+Struck on her mental ears, like adders' hiss;
+That hope gave gloomy fierceness to her eye,
+Dash'd down the tear, repress'd the unloading sigh;
+Fixed her wan quivering lip, and steeled her breast
+To crush the hearts that robbed her own of rest.
+
+She wound her way within a heavy shade
+Of arching boughs, in broad-spread leaves arrayed;
+Which, clustering close and thick, shut out the light,
+And tinged with black the shadowy robe of night;
+Save here and there a melancholy spark
+Of flickering moonshine glimmered through the dark,
+Cheerless and dim, as when upon a pall,
+Through suffering tears, the looks of sorrow fall;
+But opening farther on, on either side
+A wider space the severing trees divide;
+And longer gleams upon the pathway meet,
+And the soft grass is wet beneath her feet.
+And now emerging from the darksome shade,
+She pressed the silken carpet of the glade.
+Beyond the green, within its western close,
+A little vine-hung, leafy arbor rose,
+Where the pale lustre of the moony flood
+Dimm'd the vermillion'd woodbine's scarlet bud;
+And glancing through the foliage fluttering round,
+In tiny circles gemm'd the freckled ground.
+Beside the porch, beneath the friendly screen
+Of two tall trees, a mossy bank was seen;
+And all around, amid the silvery dew,
+The wild-wood pansy rear'd her petals blue;
+And gold cups and the meadow cowslip red,
+Upon the evening air their odours shed.
+
+Unheeded all the grove's deep gloom had been,
+Unseen the moonlight brightness of the green;
+In vain the stream's blue burnish met her eye,
+Lovely its wave, but pass'd unnoticed by:
+The airs of heaven had breath'd around her brow
+Their cooling sighs - she felt them not - but now
+That lonely bower appeared, and with a start
+Convulsive shudders thrill'd her throbbing heart.
+For there, in days, alas! for ever gone,
+When love's young torch with beams of rapture shone,
+When she had felt her heart's impassioned swell,
+And almost deem'd her Leon loved as well;
+There had she sat, beneath the evening skies,
+Felt his warm kiss and heard his murmur'd sighs;
+Hung on his breast, caressing and carest,
+Her husband smiled, and Ellinor was blest.
+
+And when his injured country's rights to shield,
+Blazed his red banner on the battle field,
+There had she lingered in the shadows dim,
+And sat till morning watch and thought of him;
+And wept to think that she might not be there,
+His toils, his dangers, and his wounds to share.
+And when the foe had bowed beneath his brand,
+And to his home he led his conquering band,
+There she first caught his long-expected face,
+And sprung to smile and weep in his embrace.
+
+These scenes of bliss across her memory fled,
+Like lights that haunt the chambers of the dead,
+She saw the bower, and read the image there
+Of joys that had been, and of woes that were;
+She clench'd her hand in agony, and cast
+A glance of tears upon it as she past,
+A look of weeping sorrow - 'twas the last!
+She check'd the gush of feeling, turned her face,
+And faster sped along her hurried pace.
+
+No longer now from Leon's lips were heard
+The sigh of bliss - the rapture breathing word;
+No longer now upon his features dwelt
+The glance that sweetly thrills - the looks that melt;
+No speaking gaze of fond attachment told,
+But all was dull and gloomy, sad and cold.
+Yet he was kind, or laboured to be kind,
+And strove to hide the workings of his mind;
+And cloak'd his heart, to soothe his wife's distress,
+Under a mask of tender gentleness.
+It was in vain - for ah! how light and frail
+To love's keen eye is falsehood's gilded veil.
+Sweet winning words may for a time beguile,
+Professions lull, and oaths deceive a while;
+But soon the heart, in vague suspicion tost,
+Must feel a void unfilled, a something lost;
+Something scarce heeded, and unprized till gone,
+Felt while unseen, and, tho' unnoticed, known:
+A hidden witchery, a nameless charm,
+Too fine for actions and for words too warm;
+That passing all the worthless forms of art,
+Eludes the sense, and only woos the heart:
+A hallowed spell, by fond affection wove,
+The mute, but matchless eloquence of love!
+
+* * * *
+
+Oh! there were times, when to my heart there came
+All that the soul can feel, or fancy frame;
+The summer party in the open air,
+When sunny eyes and cordial hearts were there;
+Where light came sparkling thro' the greenwood eaves,
+Like mirthful eyes that laugh upon the leaves;
+Where every bush and tree in all the scene,
+In wind-kiss'd wavings shake their wings of green,
+And all the objects round about dispense
+Reviving freshness to the awakened sense;
+The golden corslet of the humble bee,
+The antic kid that frolics round the lea;
+Or purple lance-flies circling round the place,
+On their light shards of green, an airy race;
+Or squirrel glancing from the nut-wood shade
+An arch black eye, half pleas'd and half afraid;
+Or bird quick darting through the foliage dim,
+Or perched and twittering on the tendril slim;
+Or poised in ether sailing slowly on,
+With plumes that change and glisten in the sun,
+Like rainbows fading into mist - and then,
+On the bright cloud renewed and changed again;
+Or soaring upward, while his full sweet throat
+Pours clear and strong a pleasure-speaking note;
+And sings in nature's language wild and free,
+His song of praise for light and liberty.
+
+And when within, with poetry and song,
+Music and books led the glad hours along;
+Worlds of the visioned minstrel, fancy-wove,
+Tales of old time, of chivalry and love;
+Or converse calm, or wit-shafts sprinkled round,
+Like beams from gems, too light and fine to wound;
+With spirits sparkling as the morning's sun,
+Light as the dancing wave he smiles upon,
+Like his own course - alas! too soon to know
+Bright suns may set in storms, and gay hearts sink in wo.
+
+
+
+NIAGARA.
+
+
+
+I.
+
+ROAR, raging torrent! and thou, mighty river,
+Pour thy white foam on the valley below;
+Frown, ye dark mountains! and shadow for ever
+The deep rocky bed where the wild rapids flow.
+The green sunny glade, and the smooth flowing fountain,
+Brighten the home of the coward and slave;
+The flood and the forest, the rock and the mountain,
+Rear on their bosoms the free and the brave.
+
+II.
+
+Nurslings of nature, I mark your bold bearing,
+Pride in each aspect and strength in each form,
+Hearts of warm impulse, and souls of high daring,
+Born in the battle and rear'd in the storm.
+The red levin flash and the thunder's dread rattle,
+The rock-riven wave and the war trumpet's breath,
+The din of the tempest, the yell of the battle,
+Nerve your steeled bosoms to danger and death.
+
+III.
+
+High on the brow of the Alps' snowy towers
+The mountain Swiss measures his rock-breasted moors,
+O'er his lone cottage the avalanche lowers,
+Round its rude portal the spring-torrent pours.
+Sweet is his sleep amid peril and danger,
+Warm is his greeting to kindred and friends,
+Open his hand to the poor and the stranger,
+Stern on his foeman his sabre descends.
+
+IV.
+
+Lo! where the tempest the dark waters sunder
+Slumbers the sailor boy, reckless and brave,
+Warm'd by the lighting and lulled by the thunder,
+Fann'd by the whirlwind and rock'd on the wave;
+Wildly the winter wind howls round his pillow,
+Cold on his bosom the spray showers fall;
+Creaks the strained mast at the rush of the billow,
+Peaceful he slumbers, regardless of all.
+
+V.
+
+Mark how the cheek of the warrior flushes,
+As the battle drum beats and the war torches glare;
+Like a blast of the north to the onset he rushes,
+And his wide-waving falchion gleams brightly in air.
+Around him the death-shot of foemen are flying,
+At his feet friends and comrades are yielding their breath;
+He strikes to the groans of the wounded and dying,
+But the war cry he strikes with is, 'conquest or death!'
+
+VI.
+
+Then pour thy broad wave like a flood from the heavens,
+Each son that thou rearest, in the battle's wild shock,
+When the death-speaking note of the trumpet is given,
+Will charge like thy torrent or stand like thy rock.
+Let his roof be the cloud and the rock be his pillow,
+Let him stride the rough mountain, or toss on the foam,
+He will strike fast and well on the field or the billow,
+In triumph and glory, for God and his home!
+
+
+
+SONG.
+
+
+
+OH! go to sleep, my baby dear,
+And I will hold thee on my knee;
+Thy mother's in her winding sheet,
+And thou art all that's left to me.
+My hairs are white with grief and age,
+I've borne the weight of every ill,
+And I would lay me with my child,
+But thou art left to love me still.
+
+Should thy false father see thy face,
+The tears would fill his cruel e'e,
+But he has scorned thy mother's wo,
+And he shall never look on thee:
+But I will rear thee up alone,
+And with me thou shalt aye remain;
+For thou wilt have thy mother's smile,
+And I shall see my child again.
+
+
+
+SONG.
+
+
+
+OH the tear is in my eye, and my heart it is breaking,
+Thou hast fled from me, Connor, and left me forsaken;
+Bright and warm was our morning, but soon has it faded,
+For I gave thee a true heart, and thou hast betrayed it.
+
+Thy footsteps I followed in darkness and danger,
+From the home of my love to the land of the stranger;
+Thou wert mine through the tempest, the blight, and the burning;
+Could I think thou wouldst change when the morn was returning.
+
+Yet peace to thy heart, though from mine it must sever,
+May she love thee as I loved, alone and for ever;
+I may weep for thy loss, but my faith is unshaken,
+And the heart thou hast widowed will bless thee in breaking.
+
+
+
+WRITTEN IN A LADY'S ALBUM.
+
+
+
+GRANT me, I cried, some spell of art,
+To turn with all a lover's care,
+That spotless page, my Eva's heart,
+And write my burning wishes there.
+
+But Love, by faithless Laia taught
+How frail is woman's holiest vow,
+Look'd down, while grace attempered thought
+Sate serious on his baby brow.
+
+"Go! blot her album," cried the sage,
+"There none but bards a place may claim;
+But woman's heart's a worthless page,
+Where every fool may write his name."
+
+Until by time or fate decayed,
+That line and leaf shall never part;
+Ah! who can tell how soon shall fade
+The lines of love from woman's heart.
+
+
+
+LINES TO A LADY, ON HEARING HER SING "CUSHLAMACHREE."
+
+
+
+YES! heaven protect thee, thou gem of the ocean;
+Dear land of my sires, though distant thy shores;
+Ere my heart cease to love thee, its latest emotion,
+The last dying throbs of its pulse must be o'er.
+
+And dark were the bosom, and cold and unfeeling,
+That tamely could listen unmoved at the call,
+When woman, the warm soul of melody stealing,
+Laments for her country and sighs o'er its fall.
+
+Sing on, gentle warbler, the tear-drop appearing
+Shall fall for the woes of the queen of the sea;
+And the spirit that breathes in the harp of green Erin,
+Descending, shall hail thee her "Cushlamachree."
+
+
+
+LINES WRITTEN ON LEAVING NEW ROCHELLE.
+
+
+
+WHENE'ER thy wandering footstep bends
+Its pathway to the Hermit tree,
+Among its cordial band of friends,
+Sweet Mary! wilt thou number me?
+
+Though all too few the hours have roll'd
+That saw the stranger linger here,
+In memory's volume let them hold
+One little spot to friendship dear.
+
+I oft have thought how sweet 'twould be
+To steal the bird of Eden's art;
+And leave behind a trace of me
+On every kind and friendly heart,
+
+And like the breeze in fragrance rolled,
+To gather as I wander by,
+From every soul of kindred mould,
+Some touch of cordial sympathy.
+
+'Tis the best charm in life's dull dream,
+To feel that yet there linger here
+Bright eyes that look with fond esteem,
+And feeling hearts that hold me dear.
+
+
+
+HOPE.
+
+
+
+SEE through yon cloud that rolls in wrath,
+One little star benignant peep,
+To light along their trackless path
+The wanderers of the stormy deep.
+
+And thus, oh Hope! thy lovely form
+In sorrow's gloomy night shall be
+The sun that looks through cloud and storm
+Upon a dark and moonless sea.
+
+When heaven is all serene and fair,
+Full many a brighter gem we meet;
+'Tis when the tempest hovers there,
+Thy beam is most divinely sweet.
+
+The rainbow, when the sun declines,
+Like faithless friend will disappear;
+Thy light, dear star! more brightly shines
+When all is wail and weeping here.
+
+And though Aurora's stealing beam
+May wake a morning of delight,
+'Tis only thy consoling beam
+Will smile amid affliction's night.
+
+
+
+FRAGMENT.
+
+
+
+I.
+
+TUSCARA! thou art lovely now,
+Thy woods, that frown'd in sullen strength
+Like plumage on a giant's brow,
+Have bowed their massy pride at length.
+The rustling maize is green around,
+The sheep is in the Congar's bed;
+And clear the ploughman's whistlings sound
+Where war-whoop's pealed o'er mangled dead.
+Fair cots around thy breast are set,
+Like pearls upon a coronet;
+And in Aluga's vale below
+The gilded grain is moving slow
+Like yellow moonlight on the sea,
+Where waves are swelling peacefully;
+As beauty's breast, when quiet dreams
+Come tranquilly and gently by;
+When all she loves and hopes for seems
+To float in smiles before her eye.
+
+II.
+
+And hast thou lost the grandeur rude
+That made me breathless, when at first
+Upon my infant sight you burst,
+The monarch of the solitude?
+No; there is yet thy turret rock,
+The watch-tower of the skies, the lair
+Of Indian Gods, who, in the shock
+Of bursting thunders, slumbered there;
+And trim thy bosom is arrayed
+In labour's green and glittering vest,
+And yet thy forest locks of shade
+Shake stormy on that turret crest.
+Still hast thou left the rocks, the floods,
+And nature is the loveliest then,
+When first amid her caves and woods
+She feels the busy tread of men;
+When every tree, and bush, and flower,
+Springs wildly in its native grace;
+Ere art exerts her boasted power,
+That brightened only to deface.
+
+III.
+
+Yes! thou art lovelier now than ever;
+How sweet 'twould be, when all the air
+In moonlight swims, along thy river
+To couch upon the grass, and hear
+Niagara's everlasting voice,
+Far in the deep blue west away;
+That dreaming and poetic noise
+We mark not in the glare of day,
+Oh! how unlike its torrent-cry,
+When o'er the brink the tide is driven,
+As if the vast and sheeted sky
+In thunder fell from heaven.
+
+IV.
+
+Were I but there, the daylight fled,
+With that smooth air, the stream, the sky,
+And lying on that minstrel bed
+Of nature's own embroidery
+With those long tearful willows o'er me,
+That weeping fount, that solemn light,
+With scenes of sighing tales before me,
+And one green, maiden grave in sight;
+How mournfully the strain would rise
+Of that true maid, whose fate can yet
+Draw rainy tears from stubborn eyes;
+From lids that ne'er before were wet.
+She lies not here, but that green grave
+Is sacred from the plough - and flowers,
+Snow-drops, and valley-lilies, wave
+Amid the grass; and other showers
+Than those of heaven have fallen there.
+
+
+
+TO -
+
+
+
+WHEN that eye of light shall in darkness fall,
+And thy bosom be shrouded in death's cold pall,
+When the bloom of that rich red lip shall fade,
+And thy head on its pillow of dust be laid;
+
+Oh! then thy spirit shall see how true
+Are the holy vows I have breathed to you;
+My form shall moulder thy grave beside,
+And in the blue heavens I'll seek my bride.
+
+Then we'll tell, as we tread yon azure sphere,
+Of the woes we have known while lingering here;
+And our spirits shall joy that, their pilgrimage o'er,
+They have met in the heavens to sever no more.
+
+
+
+LINES.
+
+
+
+DAY gradual fades, in evening gray,
+Its last faint beam hath fled,
+And sinks the sun's declining ray
+In ocean's wavy bed.
+So o'er the loves and joys of youth
+Thy waves, Indifference, roll;
+So mantles round our days of truth
+That death-pool of the soul.
+
+Spreads o'er the heavens the shadowy night
+Her dim and shapeless form,
+So human pleasures, frail and light,
+Are lost in passion's storm.
+So fades the sunshine of the breast,
+So passion's dreamings fall,
+So friendship's fervours sink to rest,
+Oblivion shrouds them all.
+
+
+
+TO EVA.
+
+
+
+A BEAM upon the myrtle fell
+From dewy evening's purest sky,
+'Twas like the glance I love so well,
+Dear Eva, from thy moonlight eye.
+
+I looked around the summer grove,
+On every tree its lustre shone;
+For all had felt that look of love
+The silly myrtle deemed its own.
+
+Eva! behold thine image there,
+As fair, as false thy glances fall;
+But who the worthless smile would share
+That sheds its light alike on all.
+
+
+
+TO A LADY WITH A WITHERED VIOLET.
+
+
+
+THOUGH fate upon this faded flower
+His withering hand has laid,
+Its odour'd breath defies his power,
+Its sweets are undecayed.
+
+And thus, although thy warbled strains
+No longer wildly thrill,
+The memory of the song remains,
+Its soul is with me still.
+
+
+
+BRONX.
+
+
+
+I SAT me down upon a green bank-side,
+Skirting the smooth edge of a gentle river,
+Whose waters seemed unwillingly to glide,
+Like parting friends who linger while they sever;
+Enforced to go, yet seeming still unready,
+Backward they wind their way in many a wistful eddy.
+
+Gray o'er my head the yellow-vested willow
+Ruffled its hoary top in the fresh breezes,
+Glancing in light, like spray on a green billow,
+Or the fine frost-work which young winter freezes;
+When first his power in infant pastime trying,
+Congeals sad autumn's tears on the dead branches lying.
+
+From rocks around hung the loose ivy dangling,
+And in the clefts sumach of liveliest green,
+Bright ising-stars the little beach was spangling,
+The gold-cup sorrel from his gauzy screen
+Shone like a fairy crown, enchased and beaded,
+Left on some morn, when light flashed in their eyes unheeded.
+
+The hum-bird shook his sun-touched wings around,
+The bluefinch caroll'd in the still retreat;
+The antic squirrel capered on the ground
+Where lichens made a carpet for his feet:
+Through the transparent waves, the ruddy minkle
+Shot up in glimmering sparks his red fin's tiny twinkle.
+
+There were dark cedars with loose mossy tresses,
+White powdered dog-trees, and stiff hollies flaunting
+Gaudy as rustics in their May-day dresses,
+Blue pelloret from purple leaves upslanting
+A modest gaze, like eyes of a young maiden
+Shining beneath dropt lids the evening of her wedding.
+
+The breeze fresh springing from the lips of morn,
+Kissing the leaves, and sighing so to lose 'em,
+The winding of the merry locust's horn,
+The glad spring gushing from the rock's bare bosom:
+Sweet sights, sweet sounds, all sights, all sounds excelling,
+Oh! 'twas a ravishing spot formed for a poet's dwelling.
+
+And did I leave thy loveliness, to stand
+Again in the dull world of earthly blindness?
+Pained with the pressure of unfriendly hands,
+Sick of smooth looks, agued with icy kindness?
+Left I for this thy shades, were none intrude,
+To prison wandering thought and mar sweet solitude?
+
+Yet I will look upon thy face again,
+My own romantic Bronx, and it will be
+A face more pleasant than the face of men.
+Thy waves are old companions, I shall see
+A well-remembered form in each old tree,
+And hear a voice long loved in thy wild minstrelsy.
+
+
+
+SONG.
+
+
+
+'Tis not the beam of her bright blue eye,
+Nor the smile of her lip of rosy dye,
+Nor the dark brown wreaths of her glossy hair,
+Nor her changing cheek, so rich and rare.
+Oh! these are the sweets of a fairy dream,
+The changing hues of an April sky.
+They fade like dew in the morning beam,
+Or the passing zephyr's odour'd sigh.
+
+'Tis a dearer spell that bids me kneel,
+'Tis the heart to love, and the soul to feel:
+'Tis the mind of light, and the spirit free,
+And the bosom that heaves alone for me.
+Oh! these are the sweets that kindly stay
+From youth's gay morning to age's night;
+When beauty's rainbow tints decay,
+Love's torch still burns with a holy light.
+
+Soon will the bloom of the fairest fade,
+And love will droop in the cheerless shade,
+Or if tears should fall on his wing of joy,
+It will hasten the flight of the laughing boy.
+But oh! the light of the constant soul
+Nor time can darken nor sorrow dim;
+Though wo may weep in life's mingled bowl,
+Love still shall hover around its brim.
+
+
+
+TO SARAH.
+
+
+
+I.
+
+ONE happy year has fled, Sall,
+Since you were all my own,
+The leaves have felt the autumn blight,
+The wintry storm has blown.
+We heeded not the cold blast,
+Nor the winter's icy air;
+For we found our climate in the heart,
+And it was summer there.
+
+II.
+
+The summer's sun is bright, Sall,
+The skies are pure in hue;
+But clouds will sometimes sadden them,
+And dim their lovely blue;
+And clouds may come to us, Sall,
+But sure they will not stay;
+For there's a spell in fond hearts
+To chase their gloom away.
+
+III.
+
+In sickness and in sorrow
+Thine eyes were on me still,
+And there was comfort in each glance
+To charm the sense of ill.
+And were they absent now, Sall,
+I'd seek my bed of pain,
+And bless each pang that gave me back
+Those looks of love again.
+
+IV.
+
+Oh, pleasant is the welcome kiss,
+When day's dull round is o'er,
+And sweet the music of the step
+That meets me at the door.
+Though worldly cares may visit us,
+I reck not when they fall,
+While I have thy kind lips, my Sall,
+To smile away them all.
+
+
+
+THE AMERICAN FLAG.
+
+
+
+I.
+
+WHEN Freedom from her mountain height
+Unfurled her standard to the air,
+She tore the azure robe of night,
+And set the stars of glory there.
+She mingled with its gorgeous dyes
+The milky baldric of the skies,
+And striped its pure celestial white,
+With streakings of the morning light;
+Then from his mansion in the sun
+She called her eagle bearer down,
+And gave into his mighty hand,
+The symbol of her chosen land.
+
+II.
+
+Majestic monarch of the cloud,
+Who rear'st aloft thy regal form,
+To hear the tempest trumpings loud
+And see the lightning lances driven,
+When strive the warriors of the storm,
+And rolls the thunder-drum of heaven,
+Child of the sun! to thee 'tis given
+To guard the banner of the free,
+To hover in the sulphur smoke,
+To ward away the battle stroke,
+And bid its blendings shine afar,
+Like rainbows on the cloud of war,
+The harbingers of victory!
+
+III.
+
+Flag of the brave! thy folds shall fly,
+The sign of hope and triumph high,
+When speaks the signal trumpet tone,
+And the long line comes gleaming on.
+Ere yet the life-blood, warm and wet,
+Has dimm'd the glistening bayonet,
+Each soldier eye shall brightly turn
+To where thy sky-born glories burn;
+And as his springing steps advance,
+Catch war and vengeance from the glance.
+And when the cannon-mouthings loud
+Heave in wild wreaths the battle shroud,
+And gory sabres rise and fall
+Like shoots of flame on midnight's pall;
+Then shall thy meteor glances glow,
+And cowering foes shall shrink beneath
+Each gallant arm that strikes below
+That lovely messenger of death.
+
+IV.
+
+Flag of the seas! on ocean wave
+Thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave;
+When death, careering on the gale,
+Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail,
+And frighted waves rush wildly back
+Before the broadside's reeling rack,
+Each dying wanderer of the sea
+Shall look at once to heaven and thee,
+And smile to see thy splendours fly
+In triumph o'er his closing eye.
+
+V.
+
+Flag of the free heart's hope and home!
+By angel hands to valour given;
+The stars have lit the welkin dome,
+And all thy hues were born in heaven.
+For ever float that standard sheet!
+Where breathes the foe but falls before us,
+With Freedom's soil beneath our feet,
+And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us?
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg eText The Culprit Fay and Other Poems
+
+
+
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