How all these waves set from the shore, and glide
Like a broad river, 'twixt these frozen banks.
The current which ran northward with thy boat,
Has overtopped the Pole, and flows away,
A liquid belt, girdling the earth. Alas!
We have no trusty boat in which to launch,
Once more, our fortunes on the promising deep."
Wearied, they flung themselves upon the shore,
And, hand in hand, sat gazing on the sea
With home-sick longing. WOLE, the eager-eyed,
From his far height espied them where they sat,
And sent four of his people to their aid
(Such power hath youth and beauty through the world!)
Bearing a skiff, contrived of ribs of whales,
For frame work,--these, inwove with fibrous moss,
And lined with furs of savage Arctic beasts
Which he had slain. When, with this welcome gift
The slaves appeared, and bowed at OLIVE's feet,
The tears sprang to her eyes; her heart was touched
By this rude warrior's magnanimity.
They put to sea. Scarce were they free from land,
When, o'er the plain they saw OENE advance,
Alone and melancholy, to the shore.
Her anger was subdued by greater grief;
While something new and holier than sorrow
Restrained revenge. It was the Love Divine
Which sacrifices self to others' good.
Some word, Sir JOHN had uttered when her wrath
Would have consumed him, fell upon her heart
Like rain on a thirsty garden--there sprang up
The amaranthine flower of charity
Whose seed was dropped from heaven; the nameless pain,
The want, which she had ever felt, was gone;
She knew the immortal meaning of the Soul,
And blessed the speaker for the 'perfect work.'
Speedily from her sight they floated out;
But, long time, while gazing, they saw her stand
In desolate beauty, silent on the beach.
The plaintive music of a horn wound down
From WOLE's grey fortress; all the fading scene
Lay, like a sad thought in a musing breast
Called up by the enchantment of sweet sound--
A thought, no more--all,--save those lustrous eyes
Shining upon them like two troubled stars--
Vaguely receding into things that were:
While, high and low, in whispering melodies
Borne by the uncertain winds, a farewell came:--
Oh, when for love we pine
We sleep in bloomless bowers;
But Life is a thing divine
When the love we crave is ours.
Shut close your feathery wings
Ye silvery birds of snow--
Across the ocean's rippled rings
Let no wild tempest blow;
From valleys bleak and caverns hollow
Let no rude spirit dare to follow.
Oh, who hath drunk of love
Will drink forevermore;
While ever, the golden rim above,
The draught will bubble o'er.
Let no fierce storm assail
These lovers in their flight,
But only a soft and steady gale
Pursue them day and night;
Nor jutting rock nor whirlpool hollow
Can seize them while our wishes follow.
Oh, love is a singing bird
That flutters everywhere;
His music in our souls is heard,
Charming us unaware.
Over the restless sea
The while these lovers glide,
This bird will pour his music free
And soothe the sleepless tide:--
While tempests crouch in caverns hollow
Let this sweet bird the lovers follow.