And when bright Sol, retiring down the west,
Laved in the ocean his last ray of light,
With rosy parting left the world to rest,
While sombre Evening lit the lamps of night;
He led her to the deck, when Cynthia bright
Illumed the wave, and from the mellow flute
Breathed on the air a solo of delight;
While she accompanied with voice and lute,
And Ocean smiled amain, and listening winds were mute.
So at the dawn they left their berths below
T' enjoy the ocean breeze, as fresh it blew,
Wreathing the waves with crests, like feathery snow,
Light as the vapor of the humid dew,
Or silky down which paints the violet's hue:-
While others courted sleep, these charmed the hour,
And from the heart's ambrosial fountains drew
Cups of bright joy, soul-sparkling, like the shower
Fallen from April skies, impearled on leaf and flower.
Thus morn and evening found them side by side,
That is, as near as strict propriety
May tolerate.--I cannot tell how wide
They sat apart; perhaps a yard might be
The standard measure--quite a space at sea-
As, reading in the cabin, both reclined.
At each end of a sofa or settee:-
But when a sudden squall, or flaw of wind
To leeward pitched the chairs, 'twere hard to be defined.
Such accidents are frequent on the wave,
As, with a heavy lurch, the ship heels down;
When one will catch at any thing, to save
One's self from falling, even prudes must own:
And so Hyperia did, as she was thrown
From her light balance, several times a-lee;
Of course, Orlando followed:-Thus 'tis shown
How they were oft surprised, quite suddenly,
Each in the other's arms, hurled by the treacherous sea!
Ten days were passed in unalloyed delight,
As o'er the bounding wave the vessel drove;
The Hours on golden pinions fanned their flight,
While Venus, hov'ring with her sacred dove,
Bore in her arms the quivered god of Love.
Blinded to danger, and each breast exposed,
The wily archer marked them from above:—
On friendship both had harmlessly reposed,
Till the tale-telling eye the thrilling truth disclosed.
They were in love! Deep in each heart the wound Which bleeds in sighs alone, yet pains the more,-Each heart in those enchanted fetters bound, Soft as the eider-down from Norway's shore, Pressed by Sultanas when their slaves adore, Yet strong as adamant,-th' enduring chain, Which binds the firmer as the longer wore:-Nor force nor fate can rend the bands in twain, While the warm pulse doth beat they ne'er dissolve again.
I've said they loved, and yet did pain to show it;
For Love's a very dolt,-a shame-faced boy;
I have had some experience, and I know it,
And therefore speak advisedly:-Ma foi,
As says the Frenchman, love's a painful joy,
Combined of hopes and fears; and much abused
A lady's heart is, till the lips employ
That rhetoric which maiden ne'er refused
When prest by welcome knight, from welcome knight excused.
Fortune, thou golden goddess, painted blind, (4)
Why Love is bandaged too, I can't discover;
For thy best gifts are charmingly combined.
When Love and Fortune meet with one another ;-
Thou and I never met; with Love, the rather,
I've had a long acquaintance, and I would
That Love and Fortune had been found together
When I staked for the prize. Orlando wooed,
And wealth and beauty won,-let this be understood.
Love in a palace, or a lowly cot,
Love on the wave, or in the peaceful vale,—
Mine be the love of rural-breathing spot,
Warmed by May's ruby lip, fanned by the gale
Of ardent Summer; where the sweets exhale
From rustling grove, dense forest, airy hill,
And field of waving corn, and flowery dale,-
My music the soft tinkling of the rill,
The note of Katy-did and the lone Whip-poor-will.
My charmer, fair as the voluptuous Queen
Who wed the god that forged the bolts of Jove;
Chaste as the Huntress of the sylvan scene,
Warm as the cherub-painted prince of Love;
Sweet as the Maiden who was wont to rove,
Wreathed with the myrtle and the fleur-de-lis;
Tender, and true, and artless as the dove,-
While care for her all other cares dismiss,
I'd envy none their good, content with my own bliss.
The storm came rushing from the concave high,
The winds swept o'er the deep-the deep uprose;
The lightnings flashed, the thunders shook the sky,
And bowed the vessel to her mighty foes!
Hyperia, rudely startled from repose,
And terror-struck, sought out her kindred knight,
And all bewildered, innocently throws
Herself into his arms, as though her light
And trembling form were safe within their sinewed might.
Th' affrighted maiden scarce knew what she did,
As fear possessed, and quite unhinged her mind;
And when the truth flashed forth, for shame she hid
Her burning cheek, where she lay still reclined
Upon his bosom, helplessly resigned.
How thrilled his breast, as in that slight embrace
He gently held the fairest of her kind:
No time that blissful moment shall efface,
While memory doth retain, or can the past retrace.
O WOMAN! In thy native purity,
Flushed with bright hope, yet timid as the dove;
Fated, yet sensitive, and bound, though free,
Shrinking from danger in the arms of Love,-
When plighted, heart and hand, with one to rove
Th' uncertain field of life, scarce shalt thou fall;
And woman's tried devotion well shall prove
Her faith and truth,-no danger may appal,
Nor sea, nor battle-field,―for him she braves it all.
Fast by his side she clings in weal or woe,
And e'en through infamy, the stain of life;
She wanders with her babes, content to go (5)
Where'er his fortune lead, through toil and strife:
She was, and is, and will, for aye a wife,
Faithful, till death the mystic bond dissolve
And leave her desolate:-Her heart is rife
With all affection's noble, high resolve,
Nor swerves from that true path, whate'er it
She walks in innocence in thought and deed,
Chaste as the fervid Seraph of the sky;
She loves, an angel in the hour of need,
And reads her honors in her partner's eye:
Her cheek is crimsoned with the morning's dye,
The blush of hope and joy,-not shame's impress,
As in her arms affection's pledge doth lie,
And adds another charm to loveliness,
Sweet as the op'ning bud its parent stem to dress.
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