WORDSWORTH.

A stranger in a foreign land,

Soft music met mine ear--

_O Richard, O mon roi_, struck up

In flute-notes wild and clear:

And scarce had died that plaintive strain,

When lo! how could it be?

Thy thunder pealed above the tide,

'Britannia rules the sea!'

I knew not whence the magic came,

But sought the distant shore,

And there a stately pageant lay

Unseen, undreamt before:

A gallant vessel newly dressed

With flags and streamers gay,

An untried wanderer on the wing,

To cleave an untried way.

And joy was with the multitude,

And gladness on the earth,

The tongue of every living thing

Rang with a sound of mirth.

All that stern Wisdom could desire,

Or Fancy fair engage--

Danger-defying youth was there,

And calm experienced age.

It seemed as though earth's very best

To that brave barque were given--

Science for nature's mysteries,

And childlike faith for Heaven.

How strangely is sensation formed,

How mingled hope and fear,

Since Mirth herself can oft repel

And Sadness' self endear!

Whence is it that a sigh can soothe,

And sweetest sounds may jar?

Those wingèd words my thoughts had sent

A thousand leagues afar.

I listened to the thrilling strain,

Unbidden tears would start,

The sound fell lightly on the ear,

But heavy on the heart.

The low breath of the summer wind

Seemed but the siren's voice,

In vain I chid my coward fears,

And struggled to rejoice!

Her gallant hearts were numbered,

Her snowy wings were set,

Her pilot's hand was on the helm,

But there she lingered yet.

The ringing laugh suspended,

The voice of mirth was hushed,

When the twilight's holy anthem

In a burst of music gushed.

Warm hearts of many nations

Were blended in that prayer,

And the incense that went up to heaven,

Was surely welcomed there.

Like rain upon the thirsting earth

Was that sweet chant to me,

Like a cool breeze in a desert--

Like a gale from Araby.

And the mental clouds, late veiling

The charm of sea and shore,

Rolled off like mist before the sun,

And I was sad no more.

Slow sailed the stately vessel,

And slowly died the strain;

But I knew that God was with it,

Chambers's Edinburgh Journal, No. 452 Volume 18, New Series, August 28, 1852 · 第 14 / 17 题