Had swoln the growing stream;
And when the southern sun began
To wind the downward way of heaven,
It ran a river deep and wide,
Through banks that widened still.
Then once again the damsel spake :
"The stream is strong, the river broad,
Wilt thou go on with me?
The day is fair, but night must come
Wilt thou go on with me?
Far, far away, the sufferer's eye
For thee hath long been looking-
Thou wilt go on with me?
"Sail on, sail on," quoth Thalaba,
Sail on, in Allah's name!"
The little boat falls rapidly
Adown the river-stream.
A broader and yet broader stream,
That rocked the little boat!
The cormorant stands upon its shoals,
His black and dripping wings
Half opened to the wind.
The sun goes down, the crescent moon
Is brightening in the firmament;
And what is yonder roar,
That sinking now, and swelling now,
But evermore increasing,
Still louder, louder, grows?
The little boat falls rapidly
Adown the rapid tide;
The moon is bright above,
And the great ocean opens on their way.
Then did the damsel speak again,
"Wilt thou go on with me?
The moon is bright, the sea is calm,
I know the ocean paths;
Wilt thou go on with me?
Deliverer! yes! thou dost not fear!
Thou wilt go on with me!"
"Sail on, sail on!" quoth Thalaba,
Sail on, in Allah's name!"
The moon is bright, the sea is calm,
The little boat rides rapidly
Across the ocean waves;
The line of moonlight on the deep
Still follows as they voyage on;
The winds are motionless;
The gentle waters gently part
In dimples round the prow.
He looks above, he looks around,
The boundless heaven, the boundless sea,
The crescent moon, the little boat,
Nought else above, below.
The moon is sunk; a dusky grey
Spreads o'er the eastern sky;
The stars grow pale and paler;
Oh beautiful! the godlike sun
Is rising o'er the sea!
Without an oar, without a sail,
The little boat rides rapidly;
Is that a cloud that skirts the sea?
There is no cloud in heaven!
And nearer now, and darker now
For yonder are the rocks that rise
Dark in the reddening morn;
For loud around their hollow base
The surges rage and foam.
HEAR, Sweet spirit, hear the spell,
Lest a blacker charm compel!
So shall the midnight breezes swell
With thy deep long-lingering knell.
And at evening evermore,
In a chapel on the shore,
Shall the chaunters sad and saintly,
Yellow tapers burning faintly,
Doleful masses chaunt for thee,
Miserere Domine!
Hark! the cadence dies away
On the yellow moonlight sea:
The boatmen rest their oars and say,
Miserere Domine!
EXTRACTS FROM WORDSWORTH.
SHE was a Phantom of delight
When first she gleamed upon my sight ;
A lovely Apparition, sent
To be a moment's ornament;
Her
eyes as stars of Twilight fair;
Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair;
But all things else about her drawn
From May-time's brightest, liveliest dawn;
A dancing Shape, an Image gay,
To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
I saw her upon nearer view,
A Spirit, yet a Woman too!
Her household motions light and free,
And steps of virgin liberty;
A countenance in which did meet
Sweet records, promises as sweet;
A Creature not too bright or good
For human nature's daily food;
For transient sorrows, simple wiles,
Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
And now I see with eye serene
The very pulse of the machine;
A Being breathing thoughtful breath,
A Traveller betwixt life and death.
The reason firm, the temperate will,
Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill,
A perfect Woman, nobly planned,
To warn, to comfort, and command;
And yet a Spirit still, and bright
With something of an angel light.
THREE years she grew in sun and shower, Then Nature said, "A lovelier flower
On earth was never sown;
This Child I to myself will take;
She shall be mine, and I will make
A Lady of my own.
Myself will to my darling be
Both law and impulse: and with me
The Girl, in rock and plain,
In earth and heaven, in glade and bower,
Shall feel an overseeing power
To kindle or restrain.
"She shall be sportive as the Fawn That wild with glee across the lawn Or up the mountain springs;
And hers shall be the breathing balm,
And hers the silence and the calm
Of mute insensate things.
The floating Clouds their state shall lend
To her; for her the willow bend;
Nor shall she fail to see
Even in the motions of the Storm
Grace that shall mould the Maiden's form
By silent sympathy.
"The Stars of midnight shall be dear
To her; and she shall lean her ear
In many a secret place
Where Rivulets dance their wayward round,
And beauty born of murmuring sound
"And vital feelings of delight
Shall rear her form to stately height,
Her virgin bosom swell;
Such thoughts to Lucy I will give
While she and I together live
Here in this happy dell."
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