He doth not hear their joyous call; he sees
No beauty in the wave, nor feels the breeze.
For he's accursed from all that's good;
He ne'er must know its healing power;
The sinner on his sins must brood,
And wait, alone, his hour.
A stranger to earth's beauty-human love.—
There's here no rest for him, no hope above!
The hot sun beats upon his head,
He stands beneath its proud, fierce blaze,
As stiff and cold as one that's dead:
A troubled, dreary maze
Of some unearthly horror, all he knows-
Of some wild horror past,. and coming woes.
The gull has found her place on shore,
The sun gone down again to rest,
And all is still but ocean's roar :
There stands the man unblest!
see ! he moves-he turns, as asking where His mates! why looks he with that piteous stare?
He views the ships that come and go,
Looking so like to living things.
Oh! 'tis a proud and gallant show
Of bright and broad-spread wings.
Making it light around them, as they keep
Their course right onward through the unsounded deep.
And when the far-off sand-bars lift
Their backs in long and narrow line,
The breakers shout, and leap, and shift,
And send the sparkling brine
Into the air; then rush to mimic strife ;
Glad creatures of the sea, and full of life!
But not to Lee. He sits alone;
No fellowship nor joy for him.
Borne down by wo, he makes no moan,
Though tears will sometimes dim
That asking eye. Oh, how his worn thoughts
Not joy again, but rest within the grave!
DEPARTURE ON A DISTANT VOYAGE.
SUCH distant, doubtful regions to explore,
All apprehended must our certain loss
Involve. Each female eye with pity's tear
Was dimmed, and many a manly bosom heaved
With sympathetic sighs. Mothers and wives,—
Excessive in their love and tenderness,
And equally excessive in their fears,
Hopeless almost,-of our return despaired.
One thus exclaimed: "O son beloved! the joy,
The only comfort, solace, and defence
Of my declining years, which now, alas!
In bitter anguish and in grief must close;
Why now thy wretched parent dost thou leave-
Why now, my dearest child, abandon me—
To seek a grave in ocean's dark abyss,
A prey to monsters of the stormy deep?"
Another, with dishevelled hair, thus grieved:
beloved husband! without whom
Love tells me I can never live, why, why
Wilt thou to angry seas expose that life
Which is not thine,-but mine? Canst thou forget,
For doubtful schemes, that bond affectionate
Which our true hearts unites? Lightly canst thou
To fickle winds and waves our loves consign?"
T. M. Musgrave.
THE signal given, with haste he strides,
The sailors climbed their ships' dark sides;
Their anchors weighed, and from the shore
Each stately vessel slowly bore.
High o'er the deeply-shadowed flood,
Upon his deck their leader stood,
And turned him to the parted land,
And bowed his head and waved his hand.
And then along the crowded strand,
A sound of many sounds combined,
That waxed and waned upon the wind,
Burst like heaven's thunder deep and grand
A lengthened peal, which paused, and then
Renewed, like that which loathly parts,
Oft on the ear returned again,
The impulse of a thousand hearts;
But as the lengthened shouts subside,
Distincter accents strike the ear,
Wafting across the current wide,
Heart-uttered words of parting cheer:
"Oh! shall we ever see again
Those gallant souls recross the main?
God keep the brave! God be their guide!
God bear them safe through storm and tide!
Their sails with favouring breezes swell!
O brave Columbus! fare thee well!"
YET who but he undaunted could explore
A world of waves, a sea without a shore,
Trackless, and vast, and wild as that revealed
When round the ark the birds of tempest wheeled?
When all was still in the destroying hour
No sign of man! no vestige of his
power! One at the stern before the hour-glass stood, As 'twere to count the sands; one o'er the flood Gazed for St Elmo; while another cried, "Once more good morrow!" and sat down and sighed.
Day, when it came, came only with its light;
Though long invoked, 'twas sadder than the night!
Look where he would, for ever as he turned,
He met the eye of one that inly mourned.
Then sunk his generous spirit, and he wept :
The friend, the father rose; the hero slept.
PALOS, thy port, with many a pang resigned,
Filled with its busy scenes his lonely mind;
The solemn march, the vows in concert given,
The bended knees and lifted hands to heaven,
The incensed rites, and choral harmonies,
The guardian's blessing mingling with his sighs:
While his dear boys-oh, on his neck they hung,
And long at parting to his garments clung!
Chosen of men! 'Twas thine, at noon of night, First from the prow to hail the glimmering light; (Emblem of truth divine, whose secret ray
Enters the soul, and makes the darkness day!) "PEDRO RODRIGO! there, methought, it shone! There-in the west! and now, alas, 'tis gone!— 'Twas all a dream! we gaze and gaze in vain! -But mark, and speak not, there it comes again!
|