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To waft them to some pleasant cave Like a happy thing doth lie;
And seeming in that slumber fair
The Brother of the Sky.
Hues brighter than the ruby-stone
With radiance gem his wavy zone,
A million hues, I ween :
Long dazzling lines of snowy white,
Skims through the sunny ray,
Then, like the rainbow's dying gleam,
In the clear wave melts away.
And all the beauteous joy seems made
Whom God and Angels love :
Around, below, above.
And thus they sail, and sail along,
Without one thought of fear;
Awoke an echoing chear,
O'er the hills that stretch in sylvan pride
On the Bala Lake's romantic side.
And lo! beneath the mellowing light,
That trembles between day and night
Before the Sun's decline,
As to the touch of fairy-hand
Upstarting dim the nameless land
It is no cloud that steadfast lics
Between the Ocean and the Skies;
No image of a cloud, that Alings
Across the deep its shadowy wings;
The heart of home-sick nariner.
That gently draws them on,
When the winds and rain are gone.
The self-moved boat appears to seek
With gladsome glide a home-like creek,
Which the calm and quiet hills surround,
And, what if here fierce savage men
Glare on them from some darksome den?
So calmly bright, he can descry
That she is not afraid
Of savage men or monsters wild,
To meet and bear her destiny.
One stroke of the dexterous oar-
The sail is furl'd: the boat is moor’d: How did I love to sigh and weep
For those that sail'd upon the deep,
When, yet a wondering child, From the wild world of waters brought I eat alone at dead of night, By God's protecting hand,
Hanging all breathless with delight
O'er their adventures wild!
Where up among the raving clouds
Thunder and lightning o'er his head!
And, should he fall—0 thought of dread!
How leapt my heart with wildering fears,
Gazing on savage islanders Before the setting sun they kneel,
Ranged fierce in long canoe, And through the silent air,
Their poison'd spears, their war-attire, To Him that dwells on that throne of light and plumes twined bright, like wreaths of They pour their souls in prayer.
fire, Their thoughts are floating, like the clouds Round brows of dusky hue! That seek the beauteous West,
What tears would fill my wakeful eyes
(As if a cloud had rollid
Freshening the Ocean where it shone,
No more the pining Mariner
Serene in silent loveliness
Amid the dash of waves.
On many are the beauteous isles
And wouldst thou think it hard to dwell Unknown to human eye,
Alone within some sylvan cell,
Raised like a queen with gracious smile
Could the fair earth, and fairer skies,
To banish from thy heart suffice And never, or by night or day,
All thought of deeper Joves? Shall pass these isles again.
Or wouldst thou pine thy life away,
That shines in human eyes?
To win thee like a summer sprite,
With purest touches of delight, And from the fruit-tree, spreading tall, To the Fairy-Queen’s retreat! The richly ripen'd clusters fall
Oh! they would bloom and wither too, Oft as sea-breezes blow.
And melt their pearls of radiant dew, The sun and clouds alone possess
Without one look from thee: The joy of all that loveliness ;
What pleasure could that beauty give,
Which, of all mortal things that live,
And where are the birds that cheer'd thinc No other visitors have they
eyes, To their shores of silvery sand,
With wings and crests of rainbow dyes, Than the waves that, murmuring in their That wont for aye to glide
Like sunbeams through the shady bowers All hurrying in a joyful band
Charming away the happy hours Come dancing from the sca.
With songs of love or pride?
Soon, soon thou hatest this Paradise; And smiling dreams were given
To cheer her heart; then down he laid
His limbe beside the sleeping Maid,
In the face of the starry Heaven.
With a power as deep as death;
In her Lover's tranquil breath.
of home, Air, Earth, and Ocean smile once more, And the gentle sound of her mother's voice And along the forest-fringed shore,
Bade Mary's slumbering soul rejoice. What mirth and music now!
For she in dreams to Wales hath flown, What warm and heavenly tints illume And sits in a cottage of her own, The land that lately seem'd a tomb Beneath its sheltering tree : Where thou wert left to die!
Fitz-Owen's eye is fix'd on hers, So bathed in joy this earth appears
While with a timid smile she stira To him, who, blind for lingering years,
Beside her mother's knee. At last beholds the sky.
But the rising sun hath pour'd his beams
And these delightful skies.
And gently they stir his sleeping soul, 'Till the land-breeze her canvas wings should Like the voice of the morning-air.
Soon as the first surprise is past, From the sweet Isle thou scarce wouldst They rise from their leafy bed,
As cheerful as the new-woke birds
And trusting in the merciful Power
When the ship sank in the sea,
Cheering their souls with many a smile Fitz-Owen and his darling Maid.
They walk through the woods of this nameThe setting sun, with a pensive glow,
less Isle Had bathed their foreheads bending low, In undisturb'd tranquillity. Nor ceased the voice, or the breath of their
prayer, Till the moonlight lay on the mellow'd air. Well might they deem that wizard's wand Then from the leaves they calmly rose, Had set them down in Fairy-land, As after a night of calm repose,
Or that their souls some beauteous dream And Mary lean'd her face
obey'd : With a sob of joy on her Lover's breast, They know not where to look or listen, Who with kind tones the Maiden press'd For pools and streams of crystal glisten In a holy pure embrace.
Above, around,-embracing like the air And genily he kise'd her tearful eyes, The soft-reflected trees; while everywhere And bade her heart lie still,
From shady nook, clear hill, and sunny glade, For there was a power in the gracious skies, The ever-varying soul of music play'd; To shield their saints from ill.
As if, at some capricious thing's command, Then, guided by the moon-light pale, Indulging every momentary mood, They walk'd into a sylvan vale,
With voice and instrument, a fairy-band Soft, silent, warm, and deep ;
Beneath some echoing precipice now stood, And there beneath her languid head, Now on steep mountain's rocky battlement, The silken wither'd leaves he spread, Or from the clouds their blended chorus sent, That she might sweetly sleep.
With jocund din to mock the solitude. Then down he sat by her tender side, They gaze with never-eated eyes And, as she lay, with soft touch dried On lengthening lines of flowery dyes, The stealing tears she could not hide ; That through the woods, and up the mounTill sleep, like a faint shadow, fell
tains run: O‘er the husht face he loved so well, Not richer radiance robes the Even,
When she ascends her throne in Heaven, Chequering the clouds with their unbending Beside the setting sun.
stems, Scattering the blossomy gems away,
And o'er the clouds amid the dark-blue skies, Like the white shower of the ocean-spray, Lifting their rich unfading diadems. Across their path for ever glide or shoot How calm and placidly they rest Birds of such beauty, as might lead Upon the Heavens indulgent breast, The soul to think that magic power decreed As if their branches never breeze bad known! Spirits to dwell therein ; are they Light bathes them aye in glancing showers,
And Silence mid their lofty bowers But each doth chant his own beloved strain, Sits on her moveless throne. For ever trembling on a natural tune, Entranced there the Lovers gaze, The heart's emotions seeming so to suit, Till every human fear decays, That the rapt Lovers are desiring soon, And bliss steals slowly through their quiet That silence never may return again.
And all they love, they are resign'd:
Like the waves that break along the shore, And as the Lovers roam from glade to glade, The sound of the world they must see no That shine with sunlight, and with music
List! Mary is the first to speak, Seems but for them the enchanted island Her tender voice still tenderer in her bliss;
And breathing o'er her silent husband's cheek, So strong the influence of the fairy-scene, As from an infant's lip, a timid kiss, That soon they feel as if for many a year Whose touch at once all lingering sorrow In love and rapture they had linger'd here,
calms, While with the beauteous things that once Says: God to us in love hath given
A home on earth, most like to Heaven, Long, long ago, or only in the mind Our own sweet Isle of Palms. By Fancy imaged, lies their native Wales, Its dim-seen hills, and all its streamy vales : Sounds in their souls its rushing mountain- And where shall these happy lovers dwell?
Shall they seek in the cliffs for some mossy Like music heard in youth, remember'd well,
cell? But when or where it rose they cannot tell. Some wilder haunt than ever hermit knew! Delightful woods, and many a cloudless sky, Where they may shun the mid-day heat, Are in their memory strangely floating by, And slumber in a safe retreat, But the faint pageant slowly melts away, When evening sheds her dew; And to the living earth they yield
Or shall they build a leafy nest, Their willing hearts, as if reveal'd
Where they like birds may sport and rest, In all its glory on this mystic day. By clustering bloom preserved from sun and Like fire, strange flowers around them flame,
rain, Sweet, harmless fire, breathed from some Upon some little radiant mound
magic urn, Within reach of the freshening sound The silky gossamer that may not burn, That murmurs from the Main? Too wildly beautiful to bear a name. No farther need their footsteps roam: And when the. Ocean sends a breeze, Even where they stand, a sylvan home To wake the music sleeping in the trees, Steals like a thought upon their startled Trees scarce they seem to be; for many a
For Nature's breath with playful power Radiant as dew, or ruby polish'd bright, Hath framed an underaying bowor, Glances on every spray, that bending light With colours heavenly bright. Around the stem, in variegated bows, Beyond a green and level lawn, Appear like some awaken’d fountain-shower, Its porch and roof of roses dawn That with the colour of the evening glows. Through arching trees that lend a mellor.
How gleams the bower with countless dres! And towering o'er these beauteous woods, Unwearied spring fresh bloom supplies, Gigantic rocks were ever dimly seen, Still brightning where they fade. Breaking with solemn gray the tremulous Two noble Palms, the forest's pride,
Guarding the bower on either side,
The Dwellers in that lovely bower, That to this Eden bore If mortal shape may breathe such blessed air, Your almost hopeless souls :-how bold Might gaze on it from morn till evening-hour, It seems to lie, all danger o’er, Nor wish for other sight more touching fair. A speck amid the fluid gold Why look abroad? All things are here That burns along the shore! Delightful to the eye and ear, And fragrance pure as light floats all around. But if they look—those mystic gleams, Five cloudless days have, from the placid The glory we adore in dreams,
deep, May here in truth be found.
In glory risen o'er this refulgent Isle, Fronting the bower, eternal woods. And still the Sun retired to rest too soon; Darkening the mountain-solitudes, And each night with more gracious smile, With awe the soul oppress :
Guarding the lovers when they sleep, There dwells, with shadowy glories crown'd, Hath watch'd the holy Moon. Rejoicing in the gloom profound,
Through many a dim and dazzling glade, The Spirit of the Wilderness.
They in their restless joy have stray'd, Lo! stretching inward on the right, In many a grot reposed, and twilight-cave; A winding vale eludes the sight,
Have wander'd round each ocean-bay, But where it dics the happy soul must dream: And gazed where inland-waters lay Oh! never sure beneath the sun,
Serene as night, and bright as day, Along such lovely banks did run
Untouch'd by wind or wave. So musical a stream.
Happy their doom, though strange and wild, But who shall dare in thought to paint And soon their souls are reconciled Yon fairy-waterfall?
For ever here to live, and here to die. Still moisten’d by the misty showers, Why should they grieve? a constant mirth From fiery-red, to yellow soft and faint, With music fills the air and earth, Fantastic bands of fearless flowers
And beautifies the sky. Sport o'er the rocky wall;
High on the rocks the wild-flowers shine And ever, through the shrouding spray, In beauty bathed, and joy divine : Whose diamonds glance as bright as they, In their dark nooks to them are given Float birds of graceful form, and gorgeous The sunshine and the dews of Heaven.
The fish that dart like silver-gleams Or dazzling white as snow;
Are happy in their rock-bound streams, While, as the passing sun illumes
Happy as they that roam the Ocean's breast; The river's bed, in silent pride
Though far away on sounding wings
Around his secret nest.
Lament, when one unclouded smile
And often in their listening souls And looking left-wards from the bower, By a delightful awe subdued, What glory meets thee there!
God's voice, like mellow thunder, rolls For lo! the heaven-encircled Sea
All through the silent solitude. Oatspreads his dazzling pageantry, As if the whole creation were his own, And the Isle, on which thy feet now stand, Five days have fled !- The Sun again, In beauty rose at his command,
Like an angel, o'er the brightening Main And for his joy alone.
Uplifts his radiant head; Beyond his billows rolling bright,
And full upon yon dewy bower, The Spirit dares not wing her flight; The warm tints of the dawning hour For where, upon the boundless deep, Mid warmer still are shed. Should she, if wearied, sink to sleep? The Sun pours not his light in vain Back to the beauteous Isle of Palms On them who therein dwell:-a strain Glad she returns; there constant calms of pious music, through the morning-calm The bays, that sleep like inland-lakes, invest: Wakening unwonted echoes, wildly rings, Delightful all;--but to your eyes,
And kneeling there to Mercy's fane, o blessed Pair! one circlet lies
While flowers supply their incense-balm, More fair than all the rest.
At the foot of yon majestic Palm A evening, throngh that silent bay The Maid her matins sings.
ith beating hearts ye steer'd your way, It is the Sabbath-morn :-since last
et trusting in the guiding love of Heaven; From Heaven it shone, what awful things, And there, upon your bended knees,
have past! To the unseen Pilot of the Seas
In their beloved vessel as it rollid Yaar speechless prayers were given. In pride and beauty o'er the waves of gold, From your bower-porch the skiff behold Then were they sailing free from all alarms,