Classic Poem

CANTO I.

Far in the watery waste, where his broad wave
From world to world the vast Atlantic rolls
On from the piny shores of Labrador
To frozen Thulé east, her airy height
Aloft to Heav'n remotest Kilda lifts,
Last of the sea-girt Hebrides, that guard,
In filial train, Britannia's parent coast.
Thrice happy land! though freezing on the verge
OFarctic skies, vet blameless still oFarts
That polish to deprave each softer clime,
With simple nature, simple virtue, bless'd!
Beyond Ambition's walk, where never War
Uprear'd his sanguine standard, nor unsheath'd,
For wealth or power, the desolating sword;
Where Luxury, soft syren, who around
To thousand nations deals her nectar'd cup
Of pleasing bane, that sooths at once and kills,
Is yet a name unknown: but calm content,
That lives to reason, ancient faith, that binds
The plain community of guileless hearts
In love and union, innocence of ill
Their guardian genius; these the powers that rule
This little world, to all its sons secure
Man's happiest life; the soul serene and sound
From passion's rage, the body from disease:
Red on each cheek behold the rose of health;
Firm in each sinew vigour's pliant spring,
By temperance brac'd to peril and to pain,
Amid the floods they stem, or on the steep
Of upright rocks their straining steps surmount,
For food or pastime: these light up their morn,
And close their eve in slumber sweetly deep,
Beneath the north, within the circling swell
Of ocean's raging sound: but last and best,
What Avarice, what Ambition, shall not know,
True Liberty is theirs, the Heav'n sent guest,
Who in the cave, or on the' uncultur'd wild,
With independence dwells and peace of mind,
In youth, in age, their sun that never sets.
 Daughter of Heav'n and Nature, deign thy aid.
Spontaneous Muse! O whether from the depth
Of evening forest, brown with broadest shade,
Or from the brow sublime of vernal Alp
As morning dawns, or from the vale at noon,
By some soft stream that slides with liquid foot
Through bowery groves, where Inspiration sits
And listens to thy lore, auspicious come!
O'er these wild waves, o'er this unharbour'd shore,
Thy wing high-hovering spread, and to the gale,
The boreal spirit breathing liberal round
From echoing hill to hill, the lyre attune
With answering cadence free, as best beseems
The tragic theme my plaintive verse unfolds.
 Here good Aurelius—and a scene more wild
The world around, or deeper solitude,
Affliction could not find—Aurelius here,
By fate unequal and the crime of war
Expell'd his native home, the sacred vale
That saw him bless'd, now wretched and unknown,
Wore out the slow remains of setting life
In bitterness of thought, and with the surge,
And with the sounding storm, his murmur'd moan
Would often mix—Oft as remembrance sad
The' unhappy past recall'd, a faithful wife,
Whom love first chose, whom reason long endear'd,
His soul's companion and his softer friend,
With one fair daughter, in her rosy prime,
Her dawn of opening charms, defenceless left
Within a tyrant's grasp! his foe profess'd,
By civil madness, by intemperate zeal
For differing rites, imbitter'd into hate,
And cruelty remorseless!—Thus he liv'd,
If this was life; to load the blast with sighs;
Hung o'er its edge, to swell the flood with tears,
At midnight hour; for midnight frequent heard
The lonely mourner, desolate of heart,
Pour all the husband, all the father forth
In unavailing anguish; stretch'd along
The naked beach, or shivering on the cliff,
Smote with the wintry pole in bitter storm,
Hail, snow, and shower, dark-drifting round his head.
 Such were his hours, till Time, the wretch's friend,
Life's great physician, skill'd alone to close,
Where sorrow long has wak'd, the weeping eye,
And from the brain, with baleful vapours black,
Each sullen spectre chase; his balm at length,
Lenient of pain, through every fever'd pulse
With gentlest hand infus'd. A pensive calm
Arose, but unassur'd; as after winds
Of ruffling wing the sea subsiding slow
Still trembles from the storm. Now Reason first
Her throne resuming, bid Devotion raise
To Heav'n his eye, and through the turbid mists,
By sense dark-drawn between, adoring own,
Sole arbiter of fate, one Cause supreme,
All-just, all-wise; who bids what still is best
In cloud or sunshine, whose severest hand
Wounds but to heal, and chastens to amend.
 Thus in his bosom, every weak excess,
The rage of grief, the fellness of revenge,
To healthful measure temper'd and reduc'd
By Virtue's hand, and in her brightening beam
Each error clear'd away, as fen-born fogs
Before the ascending sun; through faith he lives
Beyond Time's bounded continent, the walks
Of Sin and Death: anticipating Heav'n
In pious hope, he seems already there,
Safe on her sacred shore, and sees beyond,
In radiant view, the world of light and love,
Where Peace delights to dwell, where one fair morn
Still orient smiles; and one diffusive spring,
That fears no storm, and shall no winter know,
The' immortal year empurples. If a sigh
Yet murmurs from his breast, 'tis for the pangs
Those dearest names, a wife, a child, must feel,
Still suffering in his fate; 'tis for a foe
Who, deaf himself to mercy, may of Heav'n
That mercy, when most wanted, ask in vain.
 The sun, now station'd with the lucid Twins,
O'er every southern clime had pour'd profuse
The rosy year, and in each pleasing hue
That greens the leaf, or through the blossom glows
With florid light, his fairest month array'd;
While Zephyr, while the silver-footed Dews,
Her soft attendants, wide o'er field and grove
Fresh spirit breathe, and shed perfuming balm.
Nor here, in this chill region, on the brow
Of Winter's waste dominion, is unfelt
The ray ethereal, or unhail'd the rise
Of her mild reign. From warbling vale and hill,
With wild thyme flowering, betony and balm,
Blue lavender and carmel's spicy root,
Song, fragrance, health, ambrosiate every breeze.
 But high above the season full exerts
Its vernant force in yonder peopled rocks,
To whose wild solitude, from worlds unknown,
The birds of passage transmigrating come,
Unnumber'd colonies of foreign wing,
At Nature's summons their aërial state
Annual to found, and in bold voyage steer
O'er this wide ocean, through yon pathless sky,
One certain flight to one appointed shore,
By Heaven's directive spirit here to raise
Their temporary realm, and form secure,
Where food awaits them copious from the wave,
And shelter from the rock, their nuptial leagues;
Each tribe apart, and all on tasks of love,
To hatch the pregnant egg, to rear and guard
Their helpless infants, piously intent.
 Led by the day abroad, with lonely step,
And ruminating sweet and bitter thought,
Aurelius, from the western bay, his eye
Now rais'd to this amusive scene in air,
With wonder mark'd; now cast with level ray
Wide o'er the moving wilderness of waves,
From pole to pole through boundless space diffus'd,
Magnificently dreadful! where at large
Leviathan, with each inferior name
Of sea-born kinds, ten thousand thousand tribes,
Finds endless range for pasture and for sport.
Amaz'd he gazes, and, adoring, owns
The hand Almighty, who its channell'd bed
Immeasurable sank, and pour'd abroad,
Fenc'd with eternal mounds, the fluid sphere,
With every wind to waft large commerce on,
Join pole to pole, consociate sever'd worlds,
And link in bonds of intercourse and love
Earth's universal family. Now rose
Sweet evening's solemn hour: the sun declin'd
Hung golden o'er this nether firmament,
Whose broad cerulean mirror, calmly bright,
Gave back his beamy visage to the sky
With splendor undiminish'd; and each cloud,
White, azure, purple, glowing round his throne
In fair aërial landscape. Here, alone,
On earth's remotest verge Aurelius breathed
The healthful gale, and felt the smiling scene
With awe-mix'd pleasure, musing as he hung
In silence o'er the billows hush'd beneath;
When, lo! a sound, amid the wave-worn rocks,
Deaf-murmuring rose, and plaintive roll'd along
From cliff to cavern, as the breath of winds,
At twilight hour, remote and hollow heard
Through wintry pines, high waving o'er the steep
Of sky-crown'd Appenine: the sea-pie ceas'd
At once to warble; screaming from his nest
The fulmar soar'd, and shot a westward flight
From shore to sea: on came, before her hour,
Invading Night, and hung the troubled sky
With fearful blackness round sad Ocean's face
A curling undulation shivery swept
From wave to wave; and now impetuous rose
Thick cloud and storm, and ruin on his wing,
The raging South, and headlong o'er the deep
Fell horrible, with broad-descending blast.
Aloft, and safe beneath a sheltering cliff,
Whose moss-grown summit on the distant flood
Projected frowns, Aurelius stood appall'd;
His stunn'd ear smote with all the thundering main,
His eye with mountains surging to the stars,
Commotion infinite. Where you last wave
Blends with the sky its foam, a ship in view
Shoots sudden forth, steep-falling from the clouds,
Yet distant seen and dim, till onward borne
Before the blast, each growing sail expands,
Each mast aspires, and all the advancing frame
Bounds on his eye distinct: with sharpen'd ken
Its course he watches, and in awful thought
That Pow'r invokes whose voice the wild winds hear,
Whose nod the surge reveres, to look from Heav'n,
And save, who else must perish, wretched men,
In this dark hour, amid the dread abyss,
With fears amaz'd, by horrors compass'd round.
But, O! ill-omen'd, death-devoted heads!
For Death bestrides the billow, nor your own
Nor others' offer'd vows can stay the flight
Of instant Fate. And, lo! his secret seat,
Where never sun-beam glimmer'd, deep amidst
A cavern's jaws voraginous and vast,
The stormy Genius of the deep forsakes,
And o'er the waves, that roar beneath his frown,
Ascending baleful, bids the tempest spread,
Turbid and terrible with hail and rain,
Its blackest pinion, pour its loudening blasts
In whirlwind forth, and from their lowest depth
Upturn the world of waters. Round and round
The tortur'd ship, at his imperious call,
Is wheel'd in dizzy whirl: her guiding helm
Breaks short; her masts in crashing ruin fall,
And each rent sail flies loose in distant air.
Now, fearful moment! o'er the foundering hull
Half ocean heav'd, in one broad billowy curve
Steep from the clouds with horrid shade impends—
Ah! save them, Heav'n! it bursts in deluge down
With boundless undulation: shore and sky
Rebellow to the roar: at once ingulf'd,
Vessel and crew beneath its torrent sweep
Are sunk, to rise no more. Aurelius wept;
The tear unbidden dew'd his hoary cheek:
He turn'd his step; he fled the fatal scene,
And brooding in sad silence o'er the sight
To him alone disclos'd, his wounded heart
Pour'd out to Heav'n in sighs: ‘Thy will be done,
Not mine, Supreme Disposer of events!
But death demands a tear, and man must feel
For human woes: the rest submission checks.’
 Not distant far, where this receding bay
Looks northward on the pole, a rocky arch
Expands its self-pois'd concave; as the gate
Ample, and broad, and pillar'd massy-proof,
Of some unfolding temple: on its height
Is heard the tread of daily-climbing flocks,
That, o'er the green roof spread, their fragrant food
Untended crop. As through this cavern'd path,
Involv'd in pensive thought, Aurelius past,
Struck with sad echoes from the sounding vault
Remurmur'd shrill, he stopp'd, he rais'd his head,
And saw the assembled natives in a ring,
With wonder and with pity bending o'er
A shipwreck'd man. All motionless on earth
He lay: the living lustre from his eye,
The vermeil hue extinguish'd from his cheek,
And in their place, on each chill feature spread,
The shadowy cloud and ghastliness of death
With pale suffusion sat. So looks the moon,
So faintly wan, through hovering mists at eve,
Gray Autumn's train. Fast from his hairs distill'd
The briny wave, and close within his grasp
Was clench'd a broken oar, as one who long
Had stemm'd the flood with agonizing breast,
And struggled strong for life. Of youthful prime
He seem'd, and built by Nature's noblest hand,
Where bold proportion and where softening grace
Mix'd in each limb, and harmoniz'd his frame.
 Aurelius from the breathless clay his eye
To Heav'n, imploring, rais'd; then, for he knew
That life, within her central cell retir'd,
May lurk unseen, diminish'd but not quench'd,
He bid transport it speedy through the vale
To his poor cell, that lonely stood and low,
Safe from the north, beneath a sloping hill;
An antique frame, orbicular, and rais'd
On columns rude; its roof with reverend moss
Light-shaded o'er; its front in ivy hid,
That mantling crept aloft. With pious hand
They turn'd, they chaf'd his frozen limbs, and fum'd
The vapoury air with aromatic smells;
Then drops of sovereign efficacy, drawn
From mountain plants, within his lips infus'd.
Slow from the mortal trance, as men from dreams
Of direful vision, shuddering he awakes,
While life to scarce-felt motion faintly lifts
His fluttering pulse, and gradual o'er his cheek
The rosy current wins its refluent way.
Recovering to new pain, his eyes he turn'd
Severe on Heav'n, on the surrounding hills
With twilight dim, and on the crowd unknown,
Dissolv'd in tears around, then clos'd again,
As loathing light and life. At length in sounds
Broken and eager, from his heaving breast
Distraction spoke—‘Down, down with every sail!
Mercy, sweet Heav'n!—Ha! now whole ocean sweeps
In tempest o'er our heads—My soul's last hope!
We will not part—Help! help! yon wave, behold!
That swells betwixt, has borne her from my sight.
O for a sun to light this black abyss!
Gone—lost—for ever lost!’ He ceas'd. Amaze
And trembling on the pale assistants fell,
Whom now with greeting and the words of peace
Aurelius bid depart. A pause ensued,
Mute, mournful, solemn. On the stranger's face
Observant, anxious, hung his fix'd regard:
Watchful, his ear each murmur, every breath,
Attentive seiz'd; now eager to begin
Consoling speech; now doubtful to invade
The sacred silence due to grief supreme:
Then thus at last; ‘O from devouring seas
By miracle escap'd! if, with thy life,
Thy sense, return'd, can yet discern the Hand,
All-wonderful, that through yon raging sea,
Yon whirling waste of tempest, led thee safe,
That Hand Divine with grateful awe confess,
With prostrate thanks adore. When thou, alas!
Wast number'd with the dead, and clos'd within
The' unfathom'd gulf; when human hope was fled,
And human help in vain—the' Almighty Voice
Then bade Destruction spare, and bade the deep
Yield up its prey; that by his mercy sav'd,
That mercy, thy fair life's remaining race,
A monument of wonder as of love,
May justify to all the sons of men,
Thy brethren, ever present in their need.
Such praise delights him most——
He hears me not.
Some secret anguish, some transcendent woe,
Sits heavy on his heart, and from his eyes,
Through the clos'd lids, now rolls in bitter stream!
 ‘Yet speak thy soul, afflicted as thou art!
For know, by mournful privilege 'tis mine,
Myself most wretched, and in sorrow's ways
Severely train'd, to share in every pang
The wretched feel, to soothe the sad of heart,
To number tear for tear and groan for groan
With every son and daughter of distress.
Speak then, and give thy labouring bosom vent:
My pity is, my friendship shall be, thine,
To calm thy pain, and guide thy virtue back,
Through reason's paths, to happiness and Heav'n!’
 The Hermit thus; and, after some sad pause
Of musing wonder, thus the man unknown.
 ‘What have I heard?—On this untravell'd shore,
Nature's last limit, hemm'd with oceans round
Howling and harbourless, beyond all faith
A comforter to find, whose language wears
The garb of civil life; a friend whose breast
The gracious meltings of sweet pity move!
Amazement all! my grief to silence charm'd
Is lost in wonder—But, thou good unknown!
If woes for ever wedded to despair,
That wish no cure, are thine, behold in me
A meet companion; one whom earth and Heav'n
Combine to curse; whom never future morn
Shall light to joy, nor evening with repose
Descending shade—O, son of this wild world!
From social converse though for ever barr'd,
Though chill'd with endless winter from the pole,
Yet warm'd by goodness, form'd to tender sense
Of human woes beyond what milder climes,
By fairer suns attemper'd, courtly boast;
O say, did e'er thy breast, in youthful life,
Touch'd by a beam from beauty all divine,
Did e'er thy bosom her sweet influence own,
In pleasing tumult pour'd through every vein,
And panting at the heart, when first our eye
Receives impression? then, as passion grew,
Did Heav'n consenting to thy wish indulge
That bliss no wealth can bribe, no pow'r bestow,
That bliss of angels, love by love repaid?
Heart streaming full to heart in mutual flow
Of faith and friendship, tenderness and truth—
If these thy fate distinguish'd, thou wilt then,
My joys conceiving, image my despair,
How total! how extreme! for this, all this,
Late my fair fortune, wreck'd on yonder flood,
Lies lost and buried there—O, awful Heav'n!
Who to the wind and to the whelming wave
Her blameless head devoted, thou alone
Canst tell what I have lost—O, ill-starr'd Maid!
O, most undone Amyntor!’—Sighs and tears,
And heart-heav'd groans, at this his voice suppress'd:
The rest was agony and dumb despair.
 Now o'er their heads damp Night her stormy gloom
Spread, ere the glimmering twilight was expir'd,
With huge and heavy horror closing round
In doubling clouds on clouds. The mournful scene,
The moving tale, Aurelius deeply felt;
And thus replied, as one in nature skill'd,
With soft-assenting sorrow in his look,
And words to soothe not combat hopeless love.
 ‘Amyntor, by that Heav'n who sees thy tears,
By faith and friendship's sympathy divine,
Could I the sorrows heal I more than share,
This bosom, trust me, should from thine transfer
Its sharpest grief. Such grief, alas! how just!
How long in silent anguish to descend,
When reason and when fondness o'er the tomb
Are fellow-mourners! He who can resign
Has never lov'd; and wert thou to the sense,
The sacred feeling of a loss like thine,
Cold and insensible, thy breast were then
No mansion for humanity, or thought
Of noble aim. Their dwelling is with love
And tender pity, whose kind tear adorns
The clouded cheek, and sanctifies the soul
They soften, not subdue. We both will mix,
For her thy virtue lov'd, thy truth laments,
Our social sighs, and still as Morn unveils
The brightening hill, or Evening's misty shade
Its brow obscures, her gracefulness of form,
Her mind all lovely, each ennobling each,
Shall be our frequent theme: then shalt thou hear
From me, in sad return, a tale of woes
So terrible—Amyntor! thy pain'd heart,
Amid its own, will shudder at the ills
That mine has bled with—But behold! the dark
And drowsy hour steals fast upon our talk:—
Here break we off; and thou, sad mourner! try
Thy weary limbs, thy wounded mind, to balm
With timely sleep: each gracious wing from Heav'n,
Of those that minister to erring man,
Near-hovering, hush thy passions into calm,
Serene thy slumbers with presented scenes
Of brightest vision, whisper to thy heart
That holy peace which goodness ever shares,
And to us both be friendly as we need!’