"More thick these terrors grew;

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The Arctic Queen.

To

DR. ELISHA KENT KANE,

COMMANDER OF THE GRINNELL EXPEDITION

IN SEARCH OF SIR JOHN FRANKLIN--

THIS POEM IS DEDICATED:

WITH SINCEREST ADMIRATION OF HIS ENTERPRISE, COURAGE AND

HEROIC SELF-DEVOTION,

AND OF HIS SUCCESS AS DISCOVERER

OF THE

OPEN POLAR SEA.

THE ARCTIC QUEEN.

PART FIRST.

OENE, of all the chilly Arctics, queen,

Ascended to her everlasting throne

Built on the steadfast centre of the world,

And waited for the middle hour of night,

Now swiftly coming, to convene her court.

Set in an ocean of perpetual calm

Was the fair island honoured by her reign;

Slowly around her rolled the Frigid Zone,

Dim in the mystic moonlight far away,--

A silvery ring, circling her nearer realm

With the pale lustre of its snowy walls,

Defending from all storm and sudden change

The sea which bathed the island's level shores.

She sat upon her throne, and none might tell

Whether her limbs the lambent lustre cast

Upon the pearls of which it was composed,

Or they cast beauty on her glowing form.

Around her feet a pavement spread, inlaid

Of squares of roseate sea-shells, set about

With purple gems, unknown in other lands;--

Thence, winding paths, sprinkled with golden sand,

Ran out, through bowers of flowers and fields of green

To meet the sea.

Low in the South the Moon

Shone full against the island. The North-star,

Sparkling and blazing like a silver sun,

Stood at the Zenith, as a lamp hung out

From heaven to charm the endless Arctic night;--

And thus a soft profusion of pure light,

More exquisite than sunshine, fell abroad.

Unnipped by daintiest frosts, in every field

Flowers crowded thick; and trees, not tall nor rude,

With slender stems upholding feathery shade,

Nodded their heads and hung their pliant limbs

In natural bowers, sweet with delicious gloom.

Queen OENE sent her luminous glance afar:

Fine rays of tintless light played round her head,

Crowning her beauty with mysterious glory.

She gazed away, beyond the tranquil sea,

To distant mountains of unchanging snow,

And still beyond, to where full many a tower

And fortress reared their walls of gleaming ice

On the dim verges of her vast domains.

Scarcely had she in silence throned herself,

Ere from the trees, or flower-coves of the shore,

Or gliding in from idling on the sea,

Her maids of honor came, a virgin train,

Like a bright constellation clustering round

The central star, most glorious of them all.

One, in a crimson blossom, torn away

From its far moorings, nestled at her ease,

Was seen slowly to skim the silver lake;

While the huge flower seemed of itself propelled,

Save that, by chance, a flushed and saucy face,

Peeped from the waves, showing a little imp

Who tugged at its stout stem with willful toil.

KOLONA's limbs and bosom roseate glowed

As the slant moonlight through the crimson flower

Bathed her with blushes; but, when on the strand

She lightly sprang, flinging her tresses back,

A southern maiden would have deemed her pale.

Too rich for pallor was the polished glow

Of her lithe figure; while, in either cheek,

The red veins glimmered; dark blue were her eyes;

Her tresses, like deep shadows, made more fair

The light which they enhanced, glancing within.

The first to touch the white feet of the Queen

And place herself at her right hand, was she.

Others came soon; all bright, all beautiful,

With deep blue eyes, and sweet mouths set in smiles.

Long chains of jewels rare were, round their necks,

Twined many times; these, flickering, rose and fell

With the soft breath their full, graced bosoms drew.

From waist to knee of each a tunic dropped

In many folds, woven in changing hues

Of birds' gay plumage, and fringed deep with gems,

Which they with artless and unenvying pride,

Would fain have made, each, most magnificent.

They gathered round their Queen, as midnight neared.

Suddenly, with the hour, there came a change

Over the moonlight and the courtly scene.

OENE upon the pavement pressed her feet,

And out the North-Lights sprang, to do her will,

From secret caverns underneath its pearls.

O'er all the land she bade them come and go;

Each battlemented iceberg on the deep

Of other seas, and every snowy hall,

And every citadel by frosts upreared,

Were lighted with wild splendors, as the troupes

Of messengers rushed swiftly to and fro.

The people of the Arctics knew their Queen

Summoned her subjects to the Presence then

By wavering tints which played beneath the Star,

And the great speed with which the North-Lights flew.

They hurried even to the Temperate Zone.

A band of phantom spirits took wings and flew

Far to the southern sky, a fluttering crowd.

A warrior, yellow garbed, with fiery spear,

Bestrode a frantic steed, and looked not back

Till he alighted on a distant hill.

With scintillant flames some perched on towers remote

Or bore green banners o'er the mirroring sea,

Or flitted through dim valleys, bright and fast,

Casting their flickering shadows down the deep

And awful solitudes of Arctic lands.

Such of her people as had aught to ask

Of favor or redress, from air and earth,

Came now, bringing petitions, councils, gifts.

Some slid on twinkling star-beams through the air,

Some sailed in shallops over the light waves,

And all who came had presents for their Queen,--

Rare tints which they had caught just as the Moon

Peered o'er the shoulder of the mighty Thug.--

Those dwelling in the caverns of the sea

Brought up the gayest jewels they could find,

And pearls from underneath their low-based bergs

Deep in the green waves, that, with thunderous sound,

Did lull the giants of the North to sleep.

There came, as time rolled by, from the far verge

Of her vast realm, the rugged guardian ghouls,

Stationed in fortresses and waging war

On all encroachers from the hated South.

These had wild forms and gaunt; their dress was rude--

Skins of the white bear fastened to their loins.

They bore long, glistening spears, and deadly clubs

Wrenched from the spines of monsters of the sea.

Their gifts were rude as they, and yet their Queen

Unbent the radiant quiet of her brow,

Gazing with favor on these proofs of valor.

Tales of achievements dread, of battles, deaths,

Had they to speak, while, with pleased ear intent,

Their sovereign listened.

One warrior ghoul

With crispy locks and frosty eyes, and breath

Chiller than death's,--naked, as scorning e'en

To wear the trophies of his fierce renown--

Before the Presence stood, and told in haste,--

As half impatient of the wish to boast,

Yet proud to serve so well--how he was called

WOLE, guardian of old Thug;--how from the South

Came, ploughing slowly through the unwilling sea,

A ship, crowded with mortals from that land;

How, boldly, in defiance of commands

Sent out by skirmishing Frosts, they still drew near,

Passing the outer line of her domains;

Daring to come, with their invading eyes,

Where never mortals else had looked and lived.

He told,--and here he glanced, upon his friends,

Eyes of bright scorn--how the imperious ship

Passed safely Tug and Dor, though all the guards

Shot barbs of ice, and filled the air with fine,

Invisible needles, piercing their pained flesh,

And tore their stiffening sails with sharp-teethed winds;

How, still, the ship pressed on where He kept watch,

Ready to do new service for his Queen:

How, as it closer came, he fixed his eyes

Relentlessly upon it, till nor hand,

Nor foot, nor eyelid of the fated crew

Had power to stir, nor even the sails to flap,

While banded winds which he sent forth, still drove

The doomed ones onward to the eager shore,

Where every soul had perished, one by one.

"Thou hast done well, old WOLE," Queen OENE said.

Stepping a pace in front of her companions,

With bashful cheek, but with a kindling eye--

"'Tis not for one like me to have a thought

In thy rare presence, Queen," KOLONA said,--

"Yet I would dare to tell thee what I saw

Only a moon ago, when a wild freak

Possessed me to go voyaging alone,

Across the sea, to find what curious things

The other shore might hold. My lily bark,

Being too frail for such a venturous cruise

I borrowed GONDOR's boat of nautilus' shells,

Put up my lua-leaf sail and swiftly sped

Across the ocean, till this level isle

Grew smaller than a star. The air grew cold:--

I almost shivered in my bird's-down mantle;

But when I neared the opposing shore, the sight

Of all its snowy scenery, repaid me.

Coasting along at leisure, on a cliff

Which overhung the sea, I saw appear

A being, whom I knew at once as Man.--

One of that mortal race which we have kept

Forever, since our chronicles began,

With war assiduous, from our inner realms,

Still undefiled by their invading feet.

The choking hurry of my noisy heart

Told me the truth. At first I would have fled,

But, being unperceived by him, I lingered,--

Inquisitive and wilful that I am.

Thenceforth, sweet Queen, I never can forget

The face of this one man which I have seen.

Triumph was on his brow, and yet not that

So much as doubt and earnest questioning.

Something arose into his eyes and shone

Which must have been his Soul; it searched the deep,

The earth, the sky, with bright and troubled gaze;

And then, glanced forward with so still a look,

It seemed that it, perforce, would vanish space,

And bring our secret world within its ken;

Yet, with no cruelty or wantonness,

Such as we hear gleamed from the cunning eyes

Of those fierce hordes who, centuries ago,

Came in their boats and strove to conquer us.

Knowledge was what it craved, with truth it burned;

A majesty we cannot name, expressed

Its power within his features. Then I felt

That, could I bring him to thy gracious feet

He would reveal to us that mystery

The dream of which so oft hath troubled us,

Breaking upon us, like the light of Heaven,

Too high for us to fix its source--that spoke

Of an eternal, comprehensive Life,

The thought of which doth haunt us. In return

We could bestow the knowledge which he craved,

And link his name with ours through all the earth,

Fearless of harm from one who only craves

The crown of Genius for his soul-lit brow.

Almost I rowed my shallop to his feet;

Almost I offered to convey him hither,

Yet feared so much, O, Queen, thy just displeasure,

That I forbore.

"Long time he, gazing, stood;

And when he turned, 'twas with so deep a sigh

The sound awakened in me strange regret,

Endless reproach, and grief before unknown.

Art angry with thy maiden, peerless Queen?"

Over the lustrous forehead of OENE

A shadow came, and deepened in her eyes.

"I might have slain thee both, if thou hadst ventured;

For it is part of our ancestral law,

The most immutable, to guard ourselves,

With our severest powers, from envious Man.

Yet, as thou sayest, he might have fed our hearts

With sweet immortal food--aye, given us souls,

If such things be,--worth half my priceless realms.

No more--no more! KOLONA! take thy place!"

As a soft flower shrinks from the coming night,

Amid protecting leaves, KOLONA shrank,

Amid her tresses, from her sovereign's eyes,

So gloomy yet so kind; and mutely stood

Amid the bright and coyly wondering train.

A band of sprites, armed with sharp, silver spears,

With pearl-encrusted garb and gleaming sandals,

Dwelling low down the land, even amid men,

The Queen's advance guard, giving due alarm

Of all attacks, taking short flights by night,

And reconnoitering the southern world,--

Had sent a group to counsel with their Queen.

These, now, had much to say of an adventure

Which took them almost to the Tropic Zone:--

How they had blighted fruit; and mildews cast

Over the fields; and blasted flowering trees;

Nipping the hopes of gaudy butterflies,

Doting on honeyed flowers to fill their mouths;

Chilling the saucy birds within their nests;

Ruining the rainbow hues of many a garden;

Pricking the insect world with their fine spears,

And disappointing mortals of their wish.

Their somewhat boastful discourse these had ceased,

When came in hosts a crowd around the Pole,

Parting on each side to make way for one,

A stranger, craving audience of their Queen.

What saw those weird and piercing eyes, full turned

To meet the coming throng?--a singular sight,

Which filled them with bright anger and surprise!

Up from the sea, along a silvery path,

A mortal came; her girlish feet the first

That ever pressed the veritable Pole;

And not more strange to her was this wild queen,

And all the fairness of these maids of honor,

Than was her sunny beauty unto them.

The fluttering brightness of her golden hair,

The lustrous darkness of her eyes, the warmth

Of tropic tints upon her brow and cheek,

The dimpled fullness of her form, appeared

In vivid contrast with their fairer charms.

She held an offering of gorgeous flowers--

Those most renowned for fragrance--in her hands,

Which, as she reached the platform, she held forth

With a most winning, most beseeching air.

Amazed at such presumption, on the maid,

Queen OENE's brow darkened in sudden wrath.

"Warriors! do ye permit this sight!" she cried.

The lightest breath of that majestic voice

Had ever been with prompt obedience met;

But now, though hoarse and deep as surging sea,

No spear was lowered and no arrow bent.

The Pole-Queen raised aloft her pale right arm;--

She stamped her haughty feet upon the pave,--

And all the Powers of the vast Frigid Zone

Were in commotion terrible:--the earth

Shook till the people reeled, and reeling, fell;

The circle of white gems about the throne

Threw off strange darts of light which smote like steel:

Swift whirling round with inconceivable speed

A host of Northern Lights sprang into air,

And, battling round their Queen, confused and wild,

Blent with each other in the fierce affray.

The frightened stars paled in the distant sky;

And spectres rushed on shadowy steeds of grey

Down the flushed firmament; and shining spears,

Held by invisible hands, whirled high o'erhead.

Pale mortals in the far off Torrid Zone

Saw wonders in the Northern air with fear;

And when an inward trembling shook the Pole

Central through all the earth, in distant lands

The mountains belched forth fire on fated cities.

Behind the throne suddenly arose a shower,

As 'twere of phosphorescent flakes of snow,

Straight upward like a fountain, and then fell

In glowing sparks wide over all the land.

The surging sea dashed its bewildered waves

Against the foreheads of gigantic bergs,

Walking, like drunken men, the noisy deep.

Anon the POLE was calm. Uninjured stood

The mortal maid before the great OENE;

While near, a thousand prostrate subjects lay

Slain by an angry sovereign disobeyed.

"Queen of this strange and spectral land, wilt thou

Not show thy favor to a lonesome child

Come wandering all this way, impelled by love?

Not hate, ambition, curiosity,

Have led me to thy fair and fearful presence.

I have no power, am but a weak young girl;

And chance, alone, has thus revealed to me

The mystic glory of this unknown world,

With thy bright self and this enchanted isle,--

This pearl upon the bosom of the deep

So palely, purely fair--undreamed of beauty!

Love is the sole excuse which I can urge

For my intrusion"--here the stranger blushed,

Drooping in silence her embarrassed head.

"Speak on!" imperially the Pole-Queen said,

Charmed in her own despite, by that sweet face;

While LIR-LIR to KOLONA leaned and smiled,

Commending, in a whisper, what she saw:

And a soft flutter through the courtly train

Stirred, like the shimmer of a moonlit breeze

Kissing the waves:--"I will thy message hear!"

And so the maiden, gathering courage, said:

"Far in a blooming isle, in Southern seas,

I had a home, whose walls, of marble cool,

Were chequered by soft shadows, hovering,

Like flocks of birds, about its battlements;

For, all around, were trees, whose glistening leaves

Danced ever, in the sunlight or the moonlight,

To the soft flutes of the Arcadian winds;

And to the sleepy music, drowsily

The gorgeous flowers nodded their lovely heads.

Through the bright days, and in my sleep at night,

I heard the ripples breaking on the sand,

Till their continual murmur grew to be

A thing of course,--like sunshine and fresh air,--

Or like the love which grew into my life,

As color into flowers when they unfold.

The fluttering foliage and the sighing waves

Seemed whispering "BERTHO!" ever in my ear;

For BERTHO was my lover, and my heart

Could find no other meaning in their sound.

I was a princess of that blooming isle;

But BERTHO--he was poor! still, not so poor

As brave, high-souled, and strangely venturesome.

He trusted to the sea to gain his wealth,

As well as knowledge and a manly fame.

Ah! how I wept, when told that we must part!

How much more bitter tears I shed that day

On which he left me, wretched, by the shore,

Watching the gleam of his receding sails!

"Dim grew the golden air from that dark hour.

Like some rich flower, torn from the wooing kiss

Of the warm sun, and hidden in a cell,

I drooped, and lost the redness of my cheeks.

All the wild thrills that used to come and go,

Tumultuous, through my happy heart, and send

The pulses flying through my frame, died out.

"And thus in sadness two long summers passed.

In madness or in wisdom my poor brain

Wrought out a vision in my troubled sleep,

Through which I saw my BERTHO, and he bade

My soul be still and fear not,--I should take

My little boat, in which I used to skirt

The island shores, and loose it on the deep,

Placing myself within it:--It would come,

By force of an unknown and magic current,

(The thought of which, in speculative minds,

Had long been cherished,) straightway to the shore

Of the strange country where, enthralled, he dwelt.

If I still loved him, this would prove my love!

"Straight from my couch I rose, and like a ghost

Stole through the darkness of my father's halls;

Fled to the sea; and in my fragile bark

I heaped a few fresh fruits, and bore a vase

Filled with fresh water,--this was all my store.

I loosed my shallop from the anchoring rock,

And, as it drifted out upon the tide,

I leaned upon the single, slender oar

Whose aid was all I asked upon the deep.

Before my yearning vision lay my home,

Fading away from sight as the full tide

Went murmuring back from its delightful shores.

The loveliest hour of all the twenty-four

Charmed earth and ocean, that eventful time.

Moonlight and morning, softly blending, lay

Upon the land; while down the glassy sea,

Far in the distance, slowly stole a band

Of sunrise glories, smiling, looking back,

And glowing with warm splendors. All the East

Was crimson with their blushes, and the waves

Which followed in their bright and stately way

Wore crests of gold, and purple-shaded robes.

Next came light breezes blowing from the land,

Odorous with roses, sweet with drowsy songs

Of nightingales, and cool with myrtle leaves,

Following down the path the sunrise took.

And next, the stars went dimly down the west,

Crowd upon crowd, in slow and shining cars,

Bright wheeling down their heaven-appointed way.

"All day the sun shadowed himself in clouds;

My cheeks scarce browned beneath his cooled rays.

At night I sank contentedly to sleep,

Upon the silken cushions of my bark;

Then mermaids, who, attracted by my voice,

Had floated round me, underneath the waves,

Not daring to appear, swam near, reached out

Their arms of glowing white, and touched the boat.

Charmed by the helplessness of sleep in me,

They chanted sea-hymns, and I, straightway, dreamed

Of tinkling fountains in my father's halls,

And how my lover sat beside me there,

Murmuring his words of love in my thrilled ear.

They rocked the bark, too, with their lily hands,

As tender mothers rock their cradled babes:

And one wild sea-nymph reached and touched my hair--

I saw her through my dream!--and one unstrung

The pearls from out her own wave-wetted locks,

And flung them by me.

"The fresh morn waked me;

A current, gentle as a musical sound,

Swept the boat onward, as by magic power.

At times I thought, perchance, the nymphs beneath

Propelled it, but when I recalled my dream,

I knew some freak of nature, or some law,

By me uncomprehended, did the work.

At night I heard the naiads, in a tone

As soft as shepherd's reed, sing ocean-songs;

And sometimes, in the day, above the wave

I for a moment saw a lovely face,

Pearled in a clinging mass of shell-wreathed hair,

Peering upon me with strange, smiling eyes.

Gay fishes, in the sunlight gleaming, swam

With playful fires of evanescent hues;

And birds did sometimes rest their weary wings

Upon my shoulder, pecking at the fruit

Which I did share with them, though small my store.

"Thus on and on continuous days I fled;

No wind came now, blowing from flowery shores,

At times to startle me with dreams of home;

No more bewildering songs rose all the night

Around me; nor familiar faces glanced

An instant from the deep; nor long, fair fingers

Hung on the gilded prow.

"The Temperate Zone

Had floated by like a long stream of gold;

The Arctics lay before me, vast and drear;

The sea was green and rough; no gay fish darted

Like silver arrows from the quivering wave;

But monsters, with thick scales and hideous eyes,

Looked sullenly up in stupid wonderment,

While some swam to'ards me, with rapacious maws

Sharp-fanged and bloody, and exulting fins

Flapping with demon slowness their huge sides;--

And still I passed unhurt.

"Once round my boat

For many hours an old sea-dragon hovered.

His huge folds lay like rainbows on the sea,

And his two eyes, like suns, resplendent shone.

He seemed to guard thy realm, O, mighty Queen!

And, with the cunning power of those large eyes,

To awe intruders from thy frozen world.

So fearlessly my gaze repelled his own

I charmed this wary dragon of the North;

The eyes that erst had sparkled goldenly

With a malicious and infatuous brightness,

Grew lost and dreaming in a vacant splendor;

The rainbow lustre of his lengthening folds

Faded to harmless green, till, prone, he lay,

A floating dream of dread, upon the deep;

Then, with the noiseless current drifting on,

I passed your subtle guardian swiftly by;

While only one faint sparkle, green and gold,

Broke from his sluggish sides as I swept past.

"The grandeur of your floating towers of ice

Stole on my sight; the sea rolled rough; the air

Was sharp and clear; and yet this delicate robe

Was all sufficient to resist its power.

Soon, upon every side, I saw tall bergs.

A child of fragrant airs and sunny skies,

Enervate with the South's soft luxuries,

These icebergs burst upon me like a sense

Newly received, revealing God anew.

While in the distance, calmly floating on

Through the broad sunlight, then I loved to dream

That they were palaces upreared by gnomes,

With glittering towers and silver pinnacles,--

That in them were expanded halls of light--

Vast chambers--with such gorgeous, fretted roofs

And shining floors, as wearied human sight;

That fountains filled them with a slumberous sound;

And curtains, wrought of silver-threaded frost,

Were looped with priceless pearls from room to room;--

A home for all the spirits of the Good

Lost in the pitiless sea,--where they would bathe

Their thoughts in heaven's splendor, looking out

The golden windows towards the constant sun,

Shining, unceasing, slant against their brows.

"But, as I nearer drew, I lost that dream

In one more gloomy. They did seem to shape

Themselves to living giants; lifting high

Their frowning foreheads, crowned with fiery crowns.

As lower sank the sun towards the sea,

Gloomier did they grow, with their white hair

And lifted spears, walking with mighty steps

The creaking floor of the unsteady deep.--

Nodding defiantly at one another--

Meeting, with crashing spears and splintered shields,

With hoarse cries, breast to breast, in angry strife;

Their armor shivered at their feet, the sea

Broken beneath their tread and shuddering

At the great shock.

"More thick these terrors grew;

Broad fields stretched out in many a frozen ridge;

While far beyond were paths of printless snow.

The ocean lay behind; and yet my boat

Moved ever onward, up a watery isle,

Opening, like a deep river, through the ice.

A shadowy land spread out on either side,

Where, moveless as some black and brooding bird,

Night hovered, silent, vast, and wonderful.

Thy Heralds, the North-Lights, did startle me

Into new wonder by their glowing shapes,

Swift rushing down the sky, those phantasms wild,

Flushing, and paling in their measureless speed.

"At length I drifted into a new sea,

Where all was calm and warm, and where no tower

Of ragged ice upreared itself. On, on

I floated, while some lovely fantasy

Seemed stealing my true sense--so fair the scene.

Huge lillies, which no tropic land might boast,

Slept on the water--like embodied moonlight;

A mellow lustre bathed all things; sweet birds

With rainbow plumage fluttered through the air,

And this fair island dawned upon my sight.

Soon on the shore rested my vessel's prow,

And I, ascending the bright paths which spread

Through bowers of wond'rous beauty, came to thee,

The central light of all this loveliness.

This is my sin, if thou wilt judge it such.

But love, the fondest that did ever throb

In the warm heart of any mortal maid,

It was, which brought me. It must be, sweet Queen

That somewhere in thy mystical domains

My BERTHO dwells. Do'st know him? Is he well?

And does he for his fond-eyed OLIVE look,

With hollow shadows underneath his brows

From too much watching?"

OENE answered back

The eager pleading of her glance with one

Of chilly calmness, as she thus replied:--

"There is _no living_ mortal in my realms,

Save thou alone, the first who ever came.

Thy BERTHO, from a thousand shades of men

Who roam the prisons of our underworld,

Pray, how can we distinguish? Would'st thou search?

Thou hast the liberty. We will not lay

The slightest new obstruction in thy way;

And this is mercy which we did not deem

We should extend towards an enemy.

We do not comprehend that strange excess

Of passion which hath made thee venture here.

But love, at least, is harmless. Go thy ways."

The innocent maidens, gathered round their Queen,

Looked on with interest, as the southern girl

Turned with a mute and trembling lip, away.

TULA, who on KOLONA's shoulder leaned,

Sprang towards her, reaching forth a friendly hand,

Whispering,--"Stay, beautiful, and sup with us;

Our servant spirits have already spread

The Feast of Borealis in the field,"

But, OLIVE shook her head, denying smiles

Deep in her wistful eyes, and went her way.

Court being ended, from her regal throne

OENE descended, passed the glowing steps,

And, like a star that walks the path of heaven

With a long train of light, she and her maids

Glided in lustrous beauty down the way,

And gathered to the Feast.

Above the field,

Hedged round with lillies growing tall and fair,

The North-Lights clustered in a coronal,

And each held forth a lamp, in the still air,

Of purple, blue or green, crimson or rose,

Whose flickering splendors, like soft rainbows, fell

Upon the table, spread with fruits heaped high

On plates of delicate, transparent shells;

While many a dainty, gathered from the sea

Made more profuse the viands.

When round the board

The guests had circled, e'er one ruby drop

Of liquid passed their lips, or food was touched,

The Virgins of the Court, in voices flowing,

Did sing this song in honor of the Feast,

While with a silent and a magical grace,

The North-Lights danced, and waved their flaming lamps:

Lueladar!

O mighty Star!

The flying meteors backward glance

On thee to gaze,

And bright auroras softly dance

In mutest praise;

And, to and fro,

With motion slow

Wave the lamps whence colors flow.

From every chrystal spire

Flames forth thy silver fire;

And glimmering wave, and rugged tower,

And valley snow, and island flower,

And the smooth ice, spread near and far

Thy mirrors are, Lueladar!

Lueladar!

Supremest Star!

The moon goes down beneath the world--

She lives to die!

The banners of the stars are furled,

The comets fly;

The red sun shines,

And still declines,

And after him the darkness pines;

But thou art e'er the same--

No flickering of thy flame--

No sinking down in time to rise

Doth change thy splendor in the skies:

For this we worship thee, afar,

Most glorious Star, Lueladar!

Lueladar!

Eternal Star!

Look with thy bright and burning eye

Upon our feast!

Thy silver robes flow o'er the sky

Our great High Priest!

Our world doth wear

Thy livery fair

From sparkling mount to jewel rare;

And every lightest flake

That drops into the lake;

And all the solemn beauty spread

Across the land, by thee is shed:--

Most magical thy influences are

Thou wond'rous Star, Lueladar!

PART SECOND.

OLIVE had crossed the mystic sea again,

Which spread its silver circle round the Pole.

Her feet were weary and her thoughts were sad.

Immeasurably tall the icy Thug,--

That wond'rous mountain of whose old renown

The Arctic world thought with exalted hearts--

Stood in her path and seemed to bar her way.

Four months of darkness in the valley slept,

Freezing in silent dreams; the Moon did crown

The hoary brow of the old headland, Thug,

With a dim glory, as of silver locks:--

It held its head aloft and seemed to be

Peering through heaven's roof upon its God.

"Ah, BERTHO! BERTHO!" the young traveller cried,

While rapid tears ran down her grief-touched cheeks:--

"Is there no way save this? My feet refuse

To do the bidding of my heart; no more

This faithful bosom thy delight shall be--

No more thine eyes shall smile into mine own

Till both swim full of bliss--no more thy mouth

Breathe its soft words and kisses on my cheek,

Naming me thine--thine only--thine forever!

Where art thou, BERTHO? BERTHO! Cruel Thug;

Sink thyself in the sea, presumptuous mount,

Till I can pluck my lover from thy breast!"

The echo of her heart did mock her cry;

Long time, she lay, half perished, on the snow,

Till love revived, with its eternal fires,

The warmth of purpose in her chilly breast;

Then, springing to her feet, she shook her curls,

In golden billows from her brows, the while

That a sweet resoluteness on her lip

Settled itself, and triumphed in her eyes:--

"Torrent nor precipice, nor jutting crag--

Night, spirits, ghouls, nor ravenous wild beasts,

Distance, nor time, shall fright me from the way,"

She said, and silently began to climb,

Though avalanches roared from steep to steep

And fear increased with every perilous step.

The Moon alone was kind to the poor child,

Shedding its softest lustre round her feet.

Near half way up the mount she may have passed

When a fierce growl smote on her frightened ear,

As, from the shadows bounding, came a beast,

Grizzly, ferocious, snapping its sharp tusks:--

So close it came she felt the hungry breath

Rushing in fiery vapor from its mouth,

She sprang aside, then fled; but steep the path,

And sinking fainting, to the ground, she sighed--

"This is the last! BERTHO! Ah, me! farewell!"

"Nay, not the last! thou'rt not dead yet, my dear!

Look up, thou fairy, or thou mortal child--

I scarce know which--assure thyself of life.

Look up! look up! It cannot be I see

Before me, in this region of dispair,

A veritable mortal?"

By his voice

Recalled to life, the trembling girl arose.

Before her stood a man; and in his hand

A spear that dripped with her pursuer's blood.

With still unconquered terror of the brute

She turned her head.

"Fear nothing, thou sweet child;

But if thou art what now thou dost appear,

A creature of that world from whence I come,

Let me but hear thy voice--but hear one word

Of my blest country's language, and I'll deem

The service I have done thee with this spear

Naught in comparison. Speak, quickly speak!"

"What shall I say, but thank thee for my life?

I am a maiden from far Southern climes

Come searching for my lover. Dost thou know

Where cruel OENE hast my BERTHO hidden?

What do'est _thou_ here? It must be thou art come

In search of wife or child,--what other fate

Could lead thee to such barren heights as these?"

"Alas! dear child! there are other springs than love

To move the human heart. Ambition, may be;

Or better, a desire to serve my Queen

And my illustrious country, led me here."

He paused and sighed. She saw his locks were thin;

Some white with years, but more with troubled toil;

And that he stood barefooted in the snow.

The pitying tears began within her eyes

To gather into brightness as she gazed,

Upon the grey, sublime, forlorn old man.

Coldly the moonlight glinted o'er the group

Regarding each the other with surprise:--

She, sad at his abandonment of hope;

He, struck with mingled wonder and delight

To meet this woman, beautiful and young.

"Dear friend," she said, brushing away her tears,

"If thou wilt rest thee on this smoothest rock

And tell me who thou art, and whence did come,

And wherefore lingering here, pleased will I listen."

A smile stole o'er his pale, storm-beaten face.--

"I know thee now, from mother Eve descended,

By thy most feminine willingness to hear,

The sorrows which did claim thy ready tears

While they were but suspected. Sit thee down.

Five years it is since, with three stately ships

And sturdy crews to man them, one proud day

I sailed away from the great three-linked isle,

Under my fair Queen's sovereign patronage,

For the far Frigid Zone--the wild, the fierce,

The unknown Arctic seas--through their cold depths,

Their intricate, unmarked, majestic ways,

To find a North-West Passage: which wise men

And skillful mariners, learned of the sea,

Suspected, through the navigator's art

Might to the world be opened. High my heart

With courage and ambition swelled its tides,

Knowledge I had and skill, with enterprise;

And should I be successful, future times

Should know my name, and future mariners

Respect my fame and emulate my deeds.

But one faint spot was there in my proud heart,

And that was where my constant wife, at parting,

Shed sorrowful tears, until they did strike through,

A fear, into my breast, that nevermore

That faithful brow should lean to it again.

"To thee, if thou indeed hast safely passed

The horrors and the beauties of the sea,

I need not tell the ever-varying scenes

Of this most fearful voyage.

"Day by day

I studied in my cabin over charts;

Or, on the deck, learned of the sea and sky

The subtle mariner's ever-changeful lore.

Prosperous we were, till o'er the mystic bounds

Of OENE's realms I sailed; save now and then

Some noble sailor of my kindly crews

With tears we left upon the bloomless shores

Where birds nor flowers should ever bless his grave.

On--on--beyond all shores--or sights of dwarfs

Slaying the rein-deer by their snow-built huts:--

On, through the thickening perils of the way!

Methought I held within my brain the clue

Through that bewildering labyrinth of ice.

For weeks the Sun, a pale and sinking ghost,

With feeble eyes had glared upon the Pole.

Nor with his wavering arrows could o'erthrow

Even the airy domes of delicate sprites,

Sitting and decking their etherial robes

And turning them, sparkling, to his sullen face.

"Now from OENE's dominions, messengers,

Borne by the flying winds, hourly arrived,

Warning me from her shores. At last the Queen,

Gathered together her enormous fleet;

It bore down upon us with such grand array

As I pray heaven never to see again.

An hundred giant ships, whose rainbow sails

And glittering masts towered a thousand feet

Above our tiny vessels, weighed their anchors

And slowly from their harbors drifted out.

We heard the creaking of their cables--heard

The shouting of their fierce and naked crews--

We saw the green sea boil against their keels--

Their viewless banners flapped against our faces--

Their viewless darts pierced us on every side

Till men fell on our decks, a stony heap.

We strove, at least, to make a brave retreat,

Toiling in mute dispair, or madly praying

The winds to favor our poor, shattered sails.

They closed around us upon every side.

Two of the largest of their avenging fleet,

Drawing together crushed in the embrace

My stoutest vessel like some frailest shell;

Then swung apart, with laughter on their decks,

Showing me, where my noble friends had been,

Only a seething gulf. The sweat of anguish

Froze into hail upon my pallid brow,

When, with another shriek of agony,

The brother ship went down. At length the winds,

Saving us only from more sudden death,

Drove us upon the rocks beneath this mount.

Five years had wasted all our store of food;

But, seeing monsters like this beast of prey,

Some of the least exhausted boldly forth

Went to destroy them--I amid the rest,--

But stupor and a drowsy sweetness came

Over our eyes, and we lay down to sleep--

Waking to hear the mocking laugh of ghouls,

To find us chained, enslaved,--and, worse than all!

Lost from our corporal bodies--spirits--dead!

"I, as the leader of the intruding band,

Am doomed to wander on this mountain side,

A century, before my restless ghost,

Freed from the thraldom of weird OENE's power,

Regains its natural liberty, and soars

Into the paradise of happy souls.

This is the punishment those mortals bear,

Who, venturing into this strange Arctic world,

Are vanquished by its sovereign. She hath power,

The source of which I know not, to retain

The souls of mortals for an hundred years,

Demanding service which they needs must pay.

The gloomy caverns underneath this mount,

And those which in the hearts of icebergs lie,

And many by the sea, are filled with those

Who work their ransom out with tedious toil.

For me--I am not put to any task--

My punishment to gaze afar and see

How cruelly all friends from distant shores,

Who dare attempt my rescue, are restrained.

Alas; the North-west Passage! When the day

Glinted o'er this pale land, before my sight

In devious tracery that Passage lay;

Mocking me with its undeveloped truth,

Wealth unappropriated, glory lost!

Cruel is she who took from me that substance

With which I might have conquered an escape,

Leaving me, a forlorn old spirit, sere and grey.

Musing through barren hours upon the past,

I think with bitterness on those who once

Were friends and lovers--Queen, companions, Wife!

Forgotten! yes, forgotten by them all!

The luxuries of the world-taxing city,

The kisses of their children, smiles of men

Renowned of deeds which have not failed, like mine--

_This_ is the portion of that happier crowd

Who set me on to dangerous enterprise.

But ah! the worst part of it all, is this,--

To be forgotten by my own best friends--

To be to them as if I ne'er had been!

My wife--my wife!"--he ended with bowed head.

"Art thou indeed a spirit?" OLIVE asked,

Shrinking a step aside. Then her kind heart

O'ercome the transient awe, and stealing close,

While smiling on him with sweet, wondering eyes,

Began again:--"But art thou truly he

Whose name is on the lip of the great world?--

Of whom the wives and mothers, tearful, speak

When sound the Northern wind-harps?--whose grand fate,

Hath power to touch, not only hearts of men,

But draw the golden drops from weeping purses?

Oh! be content! if Fame and Love content thee.

For thee, the hearts of mariners beat loud--

For thee, ships chase the pathways of the sea--

By thee the souls of nations, like one chord

Are smote upon, and ring out sympathy;

And men talk on the streets, and by their hearths,

Of him who led to dismal, distant shores

The Crusade of the Nineteenth Century.

In that new world, where generous hearts are found

To flourish on the air of liberty,

A noble merchant fitted out a ship;

And others joined him in his kindly plan,

So deep the interest taken in thy fate.

And oh, for thee, thou princely-fortuned man,

A pale face from a northern window looks,

Forever looks, with constancy sublime.

At night, when spectral tints are in the North--

By day, when winds blow down from that bleak source--

That face peers from the window anxiously,

As if the elements might come from thee

Bearing some message to her pining heart."

As breaks the sunlight from a snow-filled cloud,

Smiles struggled through the list'ner's wintry looks.

"As land-bird with a green twig in its beak

Is welcome to the homesick ship which long

Hath tossed in foreign waters, so art thou

Welcome to me, with this consoling tale.

I am content. Weird OENE, keep me here!

And I will while away a century

In dreaming of a love which hath not failed;

Now knowing that the first to welcome me

In Heaven's ineffable bowers, will be my wife."

"Since thou, Sir JOHN, protected me from harm,

What I have said may be some small return.

I do dislike to leave thee here, so lonely;

But since I for my BERTHO went in search,

Nought stays my footsteps long. Where'er I go,

Whether I be successful in my search,

Or perish by the way, I trust again

We shall in spirit, if not in body, meet.

I have seen this witching Pole-Queen; I have passed

This circling cold and stood in the warm heart

Of her domains--have pressed her magic isle

With my poor human feet, and with my voice

Have plead the cause of two young, eager souls.

She was not kind, and yet not very cruel,

She may relent, even of her hate towards thee.

If I again have access to her ear,

I'll not forget to plead thy cause, dear sir,

As if it were mine own. Farewell!"

"Farewell,

And heaven bless thine innocence, sweet friend."

With parting gesture full of tender grace

And soft regret, she passed upon her way.

A weary time it grew till on the summit

Of Thug she stood, gazing bewildered round.

No more she heard her lover's haunting call;

But she herself cried out with aching voice,

Whose sweetness dropped with every silver tone

From the full note of hope to doubt and fear.

Sudden a chill fell on her, and a shadow;

Her breath congealed, and on those rosy lips

The white rime gathered. From behind a rock,

Which crowned the mountain, there advanced to view

WOLE, that old warrior who before OENE

Rumbled his boastful story. In his hand

He poised his massive spear in act to throw;

Yet, seeing there, chilled in her loveliness,

(Like some young rose-bud nipped by spring-time frost,)

The maiden whom his Queen herself did spare,

The frown rolled from his forehead as a cloud

Rolls from a rugged crag. The spear remained

Moveless in air, while through his frosty glance

Melted a softness never known before.

The life so nearly frozen in her veins

Flew back and thrilled her heart, as on her knees

She dropped, and lifting up her pleading hands

Crying--"Slay me, at once, great WOLE, slay me!

With those keen looks, or tell me of my lover!

If this great mountain rested on my breast

It could not crush me worse than this suspense,

Kill me or free me from it! What, to thee--

Thou greatest warrior of this shadowy land,

Whose conquests like the snows upon this mount

Lie white and venerable on thy fame,

Unsoiled by one defeat--what is to thee,

One prisoner, if she who loves him well,

Comes kneeling at thy feet, to ask him back?

Thou'lt give him her, I know, since to achieve

Renown like thine there must be generous heart."

"Look!" cried the warrior and outstretched his spear--

"'Tis not auspicious hour for such a plea."

Following the motion of his hand she saw

From the horizon phantom suns and moons

Shoot swiftly, or along the red edge roll.

Dim on the distant verge of ghostly shores

Pale fleets of paler shades, and flying hosts

Of spectral horsemen on their vanishing steeds,

Fled either way before the coming morn;

While fairies that, on snow-flakes, sailed about

Down through the valleys darted out of sight;

And meteors, coursing higher in the sky,

Exploded in their wrath, dropping down dead

The fiery ghouls who rode their shining wings.

Sudden, while OLIVE gazed, she thought a flame

Sprang from her feet, when looking, startled, down,

She saw the glory of the rising sun

Touching the pinnacle of sparkling ice

On which she stood. Silent and rapt she gazed

While thousand golden flames on thousand spires

Were low and lower lit; and here and there

Some broad plain glimmered into sudden white--

And frozen cataracts which, in daring leaps

Midway between vast depths were holden tight,

Gleamed out like streams of gold:--Thus, one by one,

The wonders of that soulless land appeared,

While grey and ghast, behind the sparkling towers

Of gorgeous Thug, the ancient Night stooped down.

WOLE gnashed his teeth and turned again to smite

The helpless girl who pleaded; but the light

Which angered him had beautified her so,

That his cold breath grew moist upon his beard.

The sunlight melting in her eyes and flushing

Her cheeks with rosy redness, crowned her hair

With lustrous splendor, and about her form

Fell like a robe of glory, warm and soft.

"Mortal!" he cried, while in the agony

'Twixt admiration and inherent hate,

The sullen throbbing of his heart was seen

Thrilling his moistened beard--"Pass from my sight!

Thou makest old Thug's warrior drop his spear,

And should that fair face beam on me eternal,

Eternal I would swear the sun was good

And OENE was no Queen. Yet I would rather,

Crush thee beneath my feet, than be this traitor."

He would have thrust her rudely from his path.

But she arose from off her bended knee,

Turning her fair face from him, so her hair

Hid its too touching beauty from his sight;

Clasping her suppliant hands upon her bosom

She spoke out wildly, as one weary waiting

For long-expected good;--

"Oh, cruel WOLE!

Where is my BERTHO in this mountain hidden?--

Shaping fantastic dreams of heartless OENE,

With aching hands into a tangible beauty.

How can'st thou keep two yearning souls apart?

If _thou_ could'st feel what love is, mighty master

Of loveless War, then thou would'st pity me!"

"Thou shalt behold thy lover, southern girl,"

Was WOLE's reply, and reaching round the rock

Took up a horn shorn from some monster's head

And blew in it a blast meant to be angry:

Yet strangely pining from the curves it came,

And went down wailing through the pallid sunlight,

For it was born of the tumultuous sigh

Stirred in his bosom by the lovely stranger.

Soon the sound smote against a pinnacle

Which someway down the mountain had just caught

The radiance of the morning, and now stood

A ruby palace on a crystal base,

With emrald towers and columns sapphire-hued:

While at the summons, swift was lifted up

A shining net-work from behind the columns,

And out there flew two fair, unearthly sprites,

With wings like birds of Paradise, and bodies

Of shape uncertain; for so swiftly shifted

Their rainbow hues amid enwreathing mists,

That OLIVE likened them to those vagaries

Born to the eyes that gaze upon the spray

Of cataracts dashing in the sun. Their flying

Made music like the flowing on of streams,

They came and hovered in the air before her,

While she regarded them with timid looks

Of fear and pleasure, seeing not their features,

But floating hair of gold, and beamy brightness

As of white foreheads and blue, humid eyes.

Next moment she was lifted from the earth,

Encircled, as it were, by many rainbows,

And rushing, bird-like, through the airy space:

While a monotonous, soft and sleepy humming

Rose all around and filled her drowsy ears.

Brief time it was, 'till, with bewildered eyes,

She saw her fairies vanish in a mist,

Floating away in music, while she stood

Alone, far down the mountain opposite

The side that with such toil she just had climbed.

She stood alone--and where? the roses shrank

From her wan cheeks to view her new distress,--

Before her a dark chasm, and above her

A crowd of close and overhanging rocks,

All dripping, black, and hopelessly down-leant.

A glimmering hope now broke upon her sense--

Seeing an arch, and, far beyond, the gleam

Of lights that from some cavern stole away.

Under the arch she passed and found herself

Walking an ever-widening vista down,

Fading from twilight to auroral glows

And brightening into more than noon-day breadth

And gorgeousness of light, until she paused

Beneath the grand arch of that grand succession,

Standing amazed, one slender hand upheld

Shading her eyes, half blinded by that view

Of Arctic-Nature and of Arctic-Art.

In limitless magnificence the cave

Before her spread, a world within a world.

The Arctic Queen · 第 1 / 3 段