33/7 Cornell University Library PS 3317.H4 3 1924 022 228 641 Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022228641 HESPERIA A POEM Bt RICHARD HENRY WIIDE EDITED BT HIS SON BOSTON TICKNOE AND FIELDS 1867 1X^-2.^^2-2^ Entered according to Act of Congress, in the jejir 1866 by WILLIAM GUMMING WILDE, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. Univorsity PresB, Cambridge : Btereotyped and Printed by "Welch, Bipclow, & Co. HESPEEIA A FEAGMENT The Late FITZIUGH DE lANCY, ESQ. " Est locus Hesperiam, Graii cognomine dicunt." Virgil. " . . . . tua sectus orbis Nomina ducet." Hor. ALLA NOBILLISSIMA DAMA, LA SIGNOEA MAECHESA MANTEEDINA DI COSENZA. It were useless to ask your pardon for these lines, since before you read them the writer will be past the reach of love or anger. You once advised me to attempt a poem of some length, in hopes that an occupation suitable to my inclinations might divert my inexplicable weariness of life and spirit. You may remember my teUing you some of the difficul- ties of such an undertaking. Few write well, except from personal experience, — from what they have seen and felt, — and modern life, in America especially, is utterly commonplace. It wants the objects and events which are essential to poetry, — excludes all romance, and admits but one enthusiasm. In addition to these inherent obstacles came my own want of invention, and the impossibility of adopting a for- eign story, because the scenes and manners to be painted were unknown to me. VI DEDICATION. You urged me no further. Years have intervened. Perhaps you have forgotten the subject, and supposed it forgotten. It was treasured up, however, Uke every wish of yours, and though it could not be literally ful- filled, has given birth to the rhymes I send you. " Utinam modo dicere possem Carmina digna Dead.'' They were written in different lands at distant times ; some of them so long since that they are obsolete. They do not constitute a poem, for they have no plan. The charm they had for me will be felt by no one else, — that of recalling the scenes we visited together, or those otherwise associated in my memory with you. To some of the minor pieces in the notes, I pretend no claim. You will readily guess the places or persons that connect them with yourself. Others, like portions of the text, written before my task assiimed the character that changed its destiny, were meant to relieve the monotony of mere description, and supply the want of incident and adventure. Adopting a somewhat loose and general geographical division of the immense country over which we wandered, my recollections of our travels naturally assumed a fourfold distribution, — Florida, Virginia, Acadia, and Louisiana, — each one being supposed to include a large part of its ancient boundaries. DEDICATION. VU I have called the whole Hesperia, for want of a better title. You must not suppose, however, that I mean any invasion of the classical prerogatives of your native, and my adopted country. The word, as you well know, comes from Hesperus, a name given to Venus when the star of evening, and signifies a setting, or the West. The Greeks, therefore, who lived to the eastward of Italy, naturally called it Hesperia.* But inasmuch as, since that time, the "West has moved westward, the ap- pellation may now without violence be applied to Amer- ica, especially as an Italian discovered it. Hesperia Max- ima might be more precise, to distinguish it from Spain as well as Italy; but the term is equivocal, and might savor of national vanity. We will call it Hesperia Nova if you like. Ausonia and Italia will still be left to your native land, names beautiful enough for any country on earth, even her who bears them, and whose love and fame (another excuse for my temerity) I have endeavored to blend with America's and yours. If you are still dissatisfied, call my verses what you please. To the " ten thousand rents in her imperial garment," I would not add one more to save all I have ever written from the flames. Intended at first merely to sketch scenes and objects, my rhymes insensibly and involuntarily became the de- Tin DEDICATION. positary of thoughts inseparable from them in my mind, though always buried in my own bosom : — " Per suo amor m' er io messo A faticosa impresa assai per tempo, Tal che s' i' arrive al desiato porto, Spero per lei gran tempo Viver, quand' altri mi terra per morto." Considering the time and manner of their utterance, my words surely cannot wound the most scrupulous del- icacy, since the sentiment they indicate reaches you only from the dust. If I err, however, you are mistress of my verses' destiny. There is no other copy in existence. They were written for you alone. When you have read them, their office is fulfilled, and my offence may be expi- ated by their sacrifice. I have often been on the point of destroying them myself ; but the patient labor of so many solitary hours, the only confidant of so many cherished thoughts, had become dear to a distempered fancy, and could not be parted from, while life remained. Farewell ! Forgive my madness, and think of me some- times as your friend. F. DE L. Pir^EKMO, 18 — . HESPERIAN CANTO I. The poet wishing to speak out a manifold world, uses the story of some per- sonage as «, thread on which he may string what he pleases. " Even so are Gil Bias and the Odyssey constructed. Goethe. CANTO FIRST FLORIDA, I PEAT thee, gentle sister, mock me not ! ^ Joy is a word unwonted to my ear Except from strangers. — I endure my lot. But there are sounds which the soul shrinks to hear From those that love us : if the canker spot Of grief do not upon my cheek appear, It is perhaps because, did they perceive Such spoiler's trace, some kindred hearts would grieve. HESPEKIA. II. Perhaps I do not brook the worldling's stare And pitying friendship's well-disciplined eye, Which, soft, sad, self-approving, if it dare Would sympathize most superciliously! Perhaps I fear some gossip of the air Might catch, and to the echoes breathe on high, A name despair has consecrated long Deep in my heart, too sacred far for song. III. No matter where the pang, or why suppressed, I have my woes, like others. . . . Let them lie Unseen within their prison-house, my breast! All power to soothe or share them they defy: Meantime, not more than e'en thyself unblest I seem, — and breathe the air, and mark the sky, My sole complaint a jest, a smile, or sneer At the heart's ills that leave the eyes no tear. HESPEEIA. IV. And if I journey often to pursue That far-sought, found-not, meteor-blessing Peace, What mortal can the love of change subdue In an unquiet soul, whose deep disease On the whole earth finds nothing strange or new Save its own doom? whose torments do not cease. And seeks forever, though it seeks in vain, One moment or one spot exempt from pain ? And if I leave my more than place of birth, — The quiet village where my early days, Wbether in humble grief or rustic mirth, Went by, — what matters it ? My life and lays May one day find — like the sequestered hearth I quit — obscurity their highest praise. Nor do I love it less because I roam, And, wheresoe'er I live, would die at home. HESPERIA. TI. For here is matter that the eye and mind, Heart, fancy, memory, could brood upon, The deep pine forest waving in the wind, The rapids hoarsely murmuring as they run, The town within its zone of hills enshrined. The broad, bright river glittering in the sun, — • Such are the sights and sounds that might engage Man's better thoughts in this lone hermitage! VII. What could more beautiful or brighter seem, Were Florence and the Arno at our feet, Save the undying names and works that beam Their thousand recollections, fond and sweet, On Learning's shrine, — Art's throne, — the Poet's theme, Immortal Beauty's shrine, — the Muses' seat ? These are the spells that haunt thine earth and air, Fair Florence ! — Italy's unfading fair. HESPEEIA. VIII. And these are much and all ! ' — what want we here Of Arqua but the Poet's home and grave? The woods are all as green, the skies as clear ; Nor is the sun less warm, less pure the wave : But wanting these, the memories that endear Spots haunted by the good or wise or brave, Stream, grove, cliflF, fountain, cataract, and lake, Transient and slight emotions only wake ! IX. Sweet as Egeria's, bore it but her name. We have full many a grotto-guarded spring: Streams not unworthy of Elyssus' fame. Did classic recollections only fling Grace on their urns, — mountains that well might claim Eagles and poets of as bold a wing As soared above Parnassus, — vales that vie With Tempe, in the hues of earth and sky ! HESPEEIA. But the heart seeks, and has forever sought, Something that man has suffered or enjoyed, And without human action, passion, thought, Nature, however beautiful, is void: 'T is from deep feeling Poetry is wrought ; Such is the spell her master minds employed. What wins for Arden's wood one Briton's tear, But pensive Jaques with his poor stricken deer?'' XI. Could we our country's scenery invest With history, or legendary lore, Give to each valley an immortal guest, Eepeople with the past the desert shore. Pass out where Hampdens bled or Shakespeares rest. Exult o'er Memory's exhaustless store. As our descendants centuries hence may do, — We should — and then shall have — our poets too ! ' HESPEEIA. XII. But now ! — 't is tnie in this our day and land All that is written perishes, alas ! Like feeble traces from the sea-be3,t strand, Or evening's dews from morning's sunny grass: Smote by the stroke of dull oblivion's wand, As all have passed before us, we shall pass, Nor leave one trace of us or ours behind, — ■ One glorious deathless monument of mind ! XIII. We have not even found — and shall we find ? - One lay like his, that in the wizard's glass Beheld his ladye-love, — the gentle, kind. And knightly Sueeet, — he whose genius as The morning-star was herald-like assigned To the far-flashing glory whose bright mass With jealous splendor his mild beams outshone. Such usher of our dawn alas ! we 've none ! 10 HESPEEIA. XIV. And shall no Phosphor ever light our sky, Predestined through long ages to endure, — Gilding the wrecks of time to mortal eye With an immortal beauty bright and pure, Defying ruin ? — Doth Aurora sigh ? Or is all darkness? — Are we blind past cure? Or never must one lonely star-lit urn This "■ palpable obscure " to twilight turn ? XV. 'Tis with no dreamer's secret pride I ask This question, hoping that my rhymes reply : Such vain conceit would need a closer mask ; They have their value ! — like the rest, they die ! I write for one who urged me to such task, And though my page should meet no other eye, Or dull oblivion shroud both verse and bard, StUl in her wish fulfilled is his reward. HESPEEIA. ,11 XVI. And if he grieve because his words, his name, The breath of after ages will not stir, 'T is but because he would impart his fame, And share an immortality with her: So might there from the brightest, hohest flame That e'er did martyrdom of heart confer. Two shadowy forms, of Truth and Friendship, rise. To seek their home together in the skies! XVII. And thou, sweet Idle ! my earliest friend. Of all beloved the loveliest and most true, My heart, that breaks, yet knows not how to bend. Trembles a moment as I think of you ! What teeming thoughts of fond devotion blend As all thy charms arise to Fancy's view, Thou sweet, cahn, cold Madonna, all divine. The Virgin of St. Luke at Padua's shrine ! 12 HESPERIA. XVIII. I cannot, must not, dare not say farewell! Yet bear tidne image with me in my breast. Affection's talisman, — a sacred speU And precious relic of the saintly blest. Within my heart it shall forever dwell. If aught so holy in such fane may rest. By fond Idolatry, and deep Despair, And Love, and Sorrow, consecrated there! XIX. Mary, farewell! it is a pang to part With thee I had not thought to feel again: Ours is a strange companionship of heart Dissevered love, — community of pain : I am but as thy brother, and thou art But my soul's sister ; pure and free from stain Is our adoption, solemnized with tears. Pledges of blighted hopes and hearts and years I HESPERIA. 13 XX. But I must leave thee too ! — Farewell ! farewell ! A restless spirit doth possess my mind, And here at home it may no longer dwell, Though what it seeks abroad it cannot find. Could I climb mountains inaccessible. Dive in the ocean's depths, or ride the wind, 'T were all the same : — while life and memory last The present is — and can be — but the past ! XXI. Now with my thoughts I am alone once more. And free to take, according to my mood, My way to cloud-capt peak, or surf-worn shore. Through cane-brake, barren, prairie, swamp, or wood.^ And if I choose scenes I have trod before, It is but to repeople solitude With beings of my fancy or my heart, y Creating for myself a life apart. 14 HESPEKIA. XXII. British America ! tlie yoke is broken Wherewith thy neck a tyrant step-dame wrung; But yet throughout thy borders still is spoken That language of the heart, our mother tongue/ Spite of her wrongs, our love no other token Asks, than the English in which Milton sung, And Sidney wrote : so long as this remains. Even as our sires we are — except their chains ! XXXII. And partly for this reason I confine My theme to shores that once have owned her sway ; Partly, because there is full many a shrine To claim the passing tribute of a lay ; But most, because of memories that entwine My thoughts with realms that did or do obey The Ocean's Empress, — haunts of joy and pain, Forever linked with one adored in vain ! HESPEEIA. 15 XXIV. Hail to thee, Florida ! bright fairy-land ! ' Here shall my wandering verse its course begin : Beauty hath left her footsteps on thy strand ; Lake, fountain, gulf, and forest well might win Our praise and wonder. Nature's lavish hand Hath half redeemed thee from the curse of sin, And in thy lap with such profusion showers Her gifts, that men have called thee " land of flowers.'' XXV. Escambia ! in thy wood-embosomed bay,' Whose crystal waters scarcely ebb and flow, Yet doth thy sunny foam-plumed billows play With sands all dazzling as the driven snow ? Still with the sea-breeze sports the glittering spray. As when I saw them ? Flash thy meteors so ? And thy caiques by moonlight glide along. Timing their oars to some old Spanish song? 16 HESPERIA. XXVI. The lovely Santa Rosa, doth she bare Her snowy bosom to the burning sun, — The bay her bath and mirror, and the air Enriched by odors from her kisses won ? Still through the tangles of her fragrant hair. Doth Zephyr his enamored fingers run ? Or her ^olian lyre as wildly sweep, In concert with the murmurs of the deep ? '" XXVII. And old Barrancas, greets he with a frown The rule of heretics renewed again ? How on their forts and navies looks he down, — With long-remembered hate or high disdain ? How changed is all ! — the port, the flag, the town, England, Columbia, Florida, and Spain, — Men and the world, — which now almost forget That boasted rule whereon the sun ne'er set ! ^' HESPEEIA. 17 XXVIII. Chippola ! savage superstition feigned ^ Of thy great spring those legends spurning truth, That in its hidden depths a magic reigned, The wondrous source of ever-during youth: Though none hath yet the secret spell attained, Many have thus far found the fable sooth, That Health from frozen streams and stormy skies. To breathe thy balmier air, fiill often flies ! XXIX. Thine is of human hope an ancient dream, Life-loving alchemy of desperate need ! Which, floating down Time's dark and troubled stream. Catches convulsively each passing reed: Alas ! more sound Philosophy might deem The voyage all the better for its speed ; For who would linger upon earth alone, When all we prized, and loved, and blessed, had flown ? 2 18 HESPEEIA. XXX. And if renewed or ever-during youth, With all youth's passions, were the fatal gift, Lethe were far a better draught in sooth ; For consciousness the veil would ever lift Of love, grief, wrong, rage, pride, revenge, and ruth. Spectres of Sin and J)eath denied all shrift: — And if unconscious of our past career. Life were the same in sorrow, care, and fear ! XXXI. Mark where poor Ortiz long was doomed to pine '^ Li bitter bondage, amid savage foes. Dropping desponding tears in Tampa's brine, And watching suns that rose and set, and rose, As if in mockery of his griefs, to shine. Careless or all tmconscious of his woes ; Alas ! how keenly all of woman bom Feel cold, unsympathizing Nature's scorn ! HESPEEIA. 19 XXXII. The new world hath its wonders, as the old," Unlike indeed, yet not inferior. Sueh Are those vast swamps, in whose prolific mould Huge tangled forests flourish overmuch: "Where Nature, wild, rank, ripe, luxuriant, bold, Eeigns in her savage fastnesses, the touch Of Time and Man defying, — rich and ripe Her various realms, and instinct all with life ! XXXIII. Here the enormous cypresses outspread Their buttressed stem, with many a cone-shaped knee, And vines, like sylvan boas, overhead Extend their serpent folds from tree to tree; And the great flowering magnolias shed The perfume that disdains all rivalry, "With giant blossoms of most milky hue Scenting the earth and air and rain and dew ! 20 HESPERIA. XXXIV. Live oaks that number centuries are here, Their strong majestic arms outstretching far, As though they longed on mountain waves to bear, Through battle and through storm, the bolts of war ; Pines that o'er all their lofty summits rear, Shaming a royal navy's largest spar, And poplar, maple, elm, and gum and bay, Cumb'ring the ground, almost exclude the day. XXXV. Around the mighty of the forest press The innumerable crowd of humbler fame. Obsequious courtiers in their gala dress. Whom learned naturalists alone could name ; And the vile race whose poisonous caress Lends them the parasitic rank they claim. Lichens and vines, and all the creeping things That throng the dew-decked courts of leafy kings. HESPEEIA. 21 XXXVI. From the hoar, graybeard moss upon their arms, The pliant knave that taints the air they breathe, To the sweet jessamine, whose fatal charms In feigned affection twine their amorous wreath, — All, all who flourish by their monarch's harms, Even while they hang around or crawl beneath, Lick, crouch, and creep, and revel in the dust, AU whose embrace betrays the dupes that trust. XXXVII. And struggling here full often wUl be found The noble tree within the treacherous clasp Of the destroyer, whose fell strength has bound His careless victim in a deadly grasp. Fold upon fold the spiral snare is wound. As round Laocoon and his sons the asp, Till the tormentor's sinuous coil is sunk Deep in his tortured captive's dying trunk. 22 HESPEKIA. XXXVIII. To these recesses that exclude the sun, The panther and his prey alike repair; Hither in herds wild deer and cattle run, And oft resort the catamount and bear ; Here wolves and foxes their pursuers shun, And alligators claim an equal share With tortoise, lizard, scorpion, snake, and frog, Of every depth in this Serbonian bog. XXXIX. The squirrel " insignificantly fierce " Perks, stamps, and scolds on every hickory spray, And woodpeckers by hundreds tap and pierce Each withered tree and branch in search of prey ; Hither on swift and painted pinion veers Nonpareil, Parrot, Cardinal, and Jay, All but the Mocking-bird, — he seldom quits Man's haunts, like other jesters, mimes, and wits.^" HESPEEIA. 23 XL. Hither wild bee and wasp and hornet hie, And wandering Psyches upon purple wing, The lightning-bug and spark-emitting flj, Mosquito, gnat, and all that buzz and sting ; And the ephemera, who live, love, die. One day their summer, winter, autumn, spring, — Beetles, aureUas, spiders, grubs, and worms, Ants, and the insect tribe in all its forms. XLI. What constant industry, and ceaseless strife, What fruitless toil, and wasted care, is here ! What boundless prodigality of life ! What hosts of passions, — love and joy and fear ! What mutual slaughter ! Man's unsparing knife. Though whetted since the expulsion, year on year. Is merciful compared with Nature's womb, Perpetual death, — the universal tomb ! 24 HESPEBIA. XLII. Such is the world, and hath been since the fall,'^ Life one long war among the things that live: Each on the other preys, and man on all. As if it were creation's plan to give Existence endless, but in atoms small. And ever-changing ; — scorn superlative Of individual hfe throughout we trace, And watchfulness unceasing o'er the race. XLIII. All that is bright and beautiful must fade," Even the most lovely perish while they bloom! The soil we reap is of our ashes made. Ruins on ruins rise, and tomb on tomb: And man, proud man, laments and would evade The universal, everlasting doom. That cities, kingdoms, nations, empires, states, Earth, planets, stars, systems, and suns awaits ! HESPEEIA. 25 XLIV. Pause ! — even here we tread upon the dust Of conquerors who perished long ago, Brought hither by the all-insatiate lust Of wealth and power ! Vainly oceans flow Between ! — they came, blaspheming the Axl Jtjst, In his great name to work his creatures woe. Here the long line of ruined forts behold Which marks how far they sought through gore for gold ! '* XLV. This was the path Narvaez and Soto trod. Wasting a peaceful land vnth sword and flame: They too would govern empires with a nod. Jealous of C!ortez' and Pizarro's fame, Each worthy to be called the "Scourge of God," — In fortune different, though in heart the same. But Fame her snule to guUt for once denied, And in obscure inglorious strife they died! 26 HESPERIA. XLVI. What art thou, Glory? thou for whom the brave" Eush to the doubtful field with darmg breast, Bartering their hfe for laurels and a grave, And, if they win thee, dying fancy-blest ! What art thou. Glory, — whom vain mortals crave ? Sought with much pain, — if won, with loss of rest, ■ — If lost, the source of woes that never cease, — Who wishes and who wins thee, forfeits Peace ! XLVII. What art thou. Glory, but a fraud on thought, — The scourge of human pride, — through toil and tears StiU followed, though unfound ? The living naught Enjoy thee, for to Envy's tongue and ears Thou art a whetstone, — for the dead, though fraught Thy trump with praise, 'tis music no one hears! What art thou. Glory, but the hero's dream. The poet's breath — the sage's scornful theme ? HESPEEIA. 27 XLVIII. Fortress of fallen tyranny ! ^^ whose walls, Costly as silver, ill repaid the toil And pride that raised them, — how thy sight appalls Even yet thy former slaves, so long the spoU Of that worst yoke, which humbles while it galls ! They thought thy strength could all invaders foil. See only in thy keep an earthly heU, The despot's castle and the wretches' cell ! XLIX. Such were thy masters often, yet not aU ; For some have been whom Spain might proudly own. Ever obedient to their country's caU, Guards of the people, pillars of the throne. Wrecks of CastiHan honor, — in her fall More glorious than when first her glory shone, — Expiring stars of chivalry, that cast Their rays on darkness, brightest, best, and last ! 28 HESPEEIA. L. And be tliou numbered, Coppinger, as one Whose soul with any Roman's well might vie : For thou, when pirates had ensnared thy son By treachery, and doomed the youth to die Before the echo of the evening gun. Unless the town should yield whate'er supply Their barque required, a parent's feelings hid. And aid and speech on pain of death forbid. LI. The boy had perished at the destined hour, ^ Brave, generous O'Hara, but for thee ; Thou and thy friends defied the Intendant's power. Seizing a boat by force to set him free ; But as ye swept beneath the stem old tower. The iron hail fell fast and fearfully. And when the parent wept his child restored, His justice punished those his heart adored ! HESPEEIA. 29 LII. Saint Augustine, thy praise was sung by one ^ Wio, though a jurist in his graver hours, — Ay, and a politician, — had been won To trifle with the Muses in thy bowers : •Eelio of ancient prowess ! past and gone, "Wtat were his reveries 'mid thy falling towers, Thy Spanish dances and Minorcan Graces, Altars and orange groves, and Grecian faces? LIII. Saint Anastasia's isle and single pahn, The ruined palace and the empty cell. Thy rich, luxurious breezes, breathing balm, The vacant convent and the silent bell. Thy very air so mystical and calm, The Constitution's column left to teU^ — Alas ! none other of the race remain — How brief the date of hberty in Spain ! 30 HESPEEIA. LIV. All these, and more than I can sing or say, Court me in vain with their attractive charms ; I may no longer in these haunts delay. Dreaming of festive scenes, or war's alarms, In rapture bending over ladies gay. Or burning as I hst to feats of arms : All I have heard, or feel, I may not tell, — Much must die with me : Florida, farewell ! ^ LV. Farewell, sweet Florida ! upon my dream Too long I linger, for it is of thee ; Though unexhausted the delightful theme. From its seductive loveHness I flee; Leaving unsung full many a crystal stream, Of most deceptive depth and purity, — Saint Juan's orange-groves, — Dominga's smiles, ■ Smyrna, — Lake George, and all his fairy isles. HESPEEIA. 31 LVI. Thy thousand silver lakes and shooting stars, Thy boundless woods and ever-blooming vales, Thy old invasions and religious wars, Thine Indian legends and romantic tales. Thine insurrections and domestic jars. Thy nameless flowers and voluptuous gales, All that will win some deathless poet's rhyme, I leave, — bequeathing thee and them to Time ! LVII. Once in the front of empire doomed to feel The scourge of border war, which o'er thy brow Flashed its destroying torch and angry steel. Could thy great founder but behold thee now, Offspring of Oglethorpe ! his generous zeal Were well repaid: save from the gentle plough. There is no mark of ravage on thy soU, Whose riches well re^yard thy children's toil. 32 HESPEKIA. LVIII. And Georgia! here upon St. Mary's banks I greet thine ever hospitable shore, Paying my homage to his name which ranks Among thy household gods for evermore ; "Well did he win a nation's praise and thanks, Who would not stain his hands with kindred gore. They were as children of his heart's desire, And stUl they hold him as their country's sire ! ^ LIX. Thy silver source, St. Mary's stream, is near,^" — Those vast morasses which man's foot defy; A labyrinth of sweets, that all the year Blooms inaccessible save to the eye; Wherein the enchanted lake and isle appear. Whose sights, sounds, scents, intoxicate the sky, And they the loveliest daughters of the sun, Beauteous and kind, but never to be won ! HESPERIA. 33 LX. Wert thou indeed the refuge of a tribe, . Where all beside were savage, — mild and fair ? Or doth thy witching fable but describe Man's love, imagination, and despair ? Vain dreams, the sober sage's jest and gibe, Created by fantastic brains from air! Or in thy tale might Wisdom's eye discern The lesson man's vain hope has yet to learn? LXI. Into what new Atlantis had been wrought ^ By Grecian poetry thy thrilling tale. Of beauties yet unfound, though often sought, Dangers at which the stoutest heart might quail, The bright elysium of desiring thought. The burning wish to win — the fear to fail; And all that Fancy, with the Muses' aid. From such a legend might have well portrayed. 84 HESPEEIA. LXII. Lo ! the pine forest's endless evergreen, WLose level waste presents for miles and roUes, Vista on vista, the same sombre scene. Image of old religion's gloomy piles, Where slender shaft with pointed arch between, Nature's dim cloisters and long Gothic aisles, Speak to the heart in that mysterious voice "Wherewith the spirits of the earth rejoice. LXIII. In the deep shadow of this mighty wood. Where the winds match the ocean with their roar, There is a sense profound of solitude. Such as the pathless desert, or sea-shore. Or island desolate, where ne'er intrude The steps of man, produces ; — it comes o'er The fancy with a strange, vague dread of ill, A sad, sublime, cold, soul-subduing thrill. HESPEEIA. 35 LXIV. Man in the wilderness is left alone "With God — amid the tokens of his might ; He in its silence, and its deep low moan, Seems half revealed to hearing as to sight : Even by his breath its loftiest are o'erthrown. His fiery bolts the Giants rive and blight; And when he wakes the whirlwind in his wrath. They fall like straws on the destroyer's path ! LXV. From the high momitains to the vasty deep, The messenger of ruin's track we trace,^ Down from the cliffs he comes with furious sweep. Crushing whate'er obstructs him in his race; Men, forests, cities, ships, his eddies reap For desolatioii : leaving in their place One long, long waste, — chaos on chaos hurled, Cyclopean fragments of a former world ! 36 HESPERIA. LXVI. And scarcely less terrific and sublime The kindred elements' triumphal ^lare, Whose flaming wreaths like fiery dragons climb, Hiss, dart, and flicker in the midnight air, Making in hours a ruin which old Time Even in a century can scarce repair: How the red torrent drives before the wind A blazing sea with burning wrecks behind ! LXVII. Onward, and onward still, the flames extend On every side, as far and fast as eye Can foUow : clouds of smoke and sparks ascend. Dimming the stars and crimsoning the sky, Whose mingled tints a livid lustre lend To the pale streams that rush in terror by. As, with loud crash, huge burning masses fall, And startled Echo answers to their call ! HESPEEIA. 37 LXVIII. Thousands of mighty victims prostrate glow; Round tens of thousands still the flames aspire, Drunk with the resinous tears and sweat that flow, Wrung out by torture, and with fierce desire Quaffed off, as is the blood of mortal foe By the relentless savage in his ire : Here is a burnt-offering that might claim Acceptance even by the God of Flame ! LXIX. Once more upon the conflagration gaze ! Those boundless colonnades of burning pine. Even more than Moscow's ruins might amaze Man's mind, as something wondrous and divine ! Colmnn, arch, dome, and tower and chancel blaze. Spirit of Fire ! thy palace or thy shrine, Dark Eblis, come ! this dwelling .thou alone Canst challenge ! Come ! ascend thy fiery throne ! ® 38 HESPEEIA. LXX. Savannah! by thy kindred river's brink, Of every generous feeling well might boast Thy manly sons for thee, did they not think This thy best praise, — thou art the stranger's host; Ne'er from the poor or wretched didst thou shrink : The exile finds a home upon thy coast. And from thy snowy bluff and verdant isles Misfortune meets warm welcome and kind smiles. LXXI. 'Twas here, in freedom's war, too long withstood Us and our ally a determined foe. And here Pulaski poured that noble blood ^ Shed ever since Sarmatia's overthrow In Freedom's battles : — still the crimson flood Of Poland flows, and must forever flow, TUl the Supreme o'er every sea and land, His bow of heavenly tricolor expand.^^ HESPEEIA. 39 LXXII. The Hero's corse to ocean's caves went down, But where he fell a monument ascends, Spontaneous tribute of a grateful town, To Gkeene and him : they, who in life were friends. The tomb hath thus united in renown ; For here a people's voice together blends Their names with those of every age who braved Danger and death to free a land enslaved. LXXIII. Between broad streams, enthroned in palmy state, Behold chivalric Carolina's queen ! How many glorious memories crowd her gate ! Moultrie's defence, — the martyred Hayne's death-scene ; ' Impetuous Laurens's lamented fate ; Thy struggles, Marion, and thy triumphs, Greene ! These, and fuU many a deathless deed beside. Her youth's warm blood may well inflame with pride. 40 HESPEKIA. LXXIV. Long o'er her soil the storm of battle lowered ; Long ran her blushing rivers red with gore; Ne'er in her ranks was traitor found, or coward, To stain the badge her sons serenely bore ; Eutaw — the Cowpens — Morgan, Shelby, Howard, Are words her children wear in their hearts' core. And his — the name familiar in each mouth — Sumter, the gallant game-cock of the South ! ^ LXXV. Camden ! the patriot statesman's name you bear To other eyes and ears were all your charm. But unto mo you have a claim more dear ; — A thousand recollections fond, and warm Upon thy plain come o'er me bright and clear! Here where thy dead he once did warriors swarm. And here thy laurels. Gates ! received a stain. While tyranny reknit his broken chain. HESPEEIA. 41 LXXVI. Here too De Kalb, called brave among the brave, In man's most holy quarrel fought and died : ^ Pass not unblest the noble chieftain's grave. They show his monument with honest pride : He who is not, and should not be, a slave, WUl love his country better by its side ; The gi-anite obelisk but tells for whom. As best befits a hero's fame and tomb. LXXVII. Here stood the prison, gallant young Adair, Wherein thy ruthless enemies immured Thee and thy friends, — not knowing how despair, Disease, and threatened death could be endured By Freedom's martyrs. — In that poisoned air. Though menaced, tempted, tortured, and allured By turns, as cruelty's caprice inclined, All failed to shake the indomitable mind. 42 HESPEKIA. LXXVIII. Thou livedst in glorious battle to repay Thine and thy fellows' wrongs, till time should crown The strife and woe of many a bloody day With thy land's liberty and thy renown. Such deeds should not become Oblivion's prey, Nor shall they: though this lay may not go down To after years, History thy tale will keep. And wondering youth shall read and burn and weep ! LXXIX. And if I seem to linger on thy praise. Though Fame my verse from out her temple bars, 'T is because Heaven, that gave thee length of days In spite of civil and of savage wars, Gave thee such virtue too as far outweighs The patriot's triumphs and the chieftain's scars. Making thy home a temple, and thy boai'd An altar, where aU kindred hearts adored. HESPERIA. 43 LXXX. What though some loved, and lost, and mourned ones crave From thee the tear that suffering hath not wrung. Nor poverty extorted, — o'er their grave Bethink thee Heaven is promised to the young ; He who reclaimed them in their bloom, but gave Exemption thus from ills that else had sprung For them, as now for thee ; — all these are o'er. Nor grief nor wrong shall ever reach them more. LXXXI. And he hath given unto thine eyes to see The greatness and the glory of the land AVhich under him thou didst assist to free ; And thou hast seen it once again withstand The fierce invader ; and beheld him flee Before the prowess of a civic band. Yes ! thy last weapon was at Orleans bared. And counsel given, and victory won and shared. 44 HESPEEIA. LXXXII. Camden ! to those who by experience know Love born in misery and baptized with tears, One burning page on which his annals glow The very shadow of these oaks endears. The heart that felt, the hand that traced its woe, Unknown have perished ; but to distant years. While genius lasts and true affections grieve, Memory will consecrate the wrecks they leave. LXXXIII. Nor here alone hath passion in his flight Left after him the signs whereby we trace His daring footsteps, like the line of light Comets and barques cast from them in their race : At Fayetteville again the path is bright Which his all-nameless votary for a space Trod, — breathing to his lady thoughts of flame To which we seek in vain a clue, a name. HESPERIA. 45 LXXXIV. Fayette ! who had been greatest, if not best ; Beloved of Washington ! to Virtue dear, Thy nation's umpire and our people's guest, Freedom's apostle in each hemisphere ! How wDl the humble village where I rest Joy in a name that millions shall revere. When Death and Time have set thereon the seal That dulls man's envy and inflames his zeaL LXXXV. In our dark hour of peril, strife, and woe. Thine advent bade us hope the coming dawn ; Leaving us free and happy, thou didst go To tell thy France what moral might be drawn From our example. — Taught, alas ! not so. She did but strike one monarch down, to fawn On her ten thousand tyrants ! StiU, thy part In all her struggles speaks thee pure of heart ! 46 HESPEEIA. LXXXVI. Republic, Empire, Kingdom, all attest That thou hast never yet betrayed her cause. Nor shrunk in danger's hour to bare thy breast In the defence of Liberty and Laws : Nor hath ambition tempted thee to wrest Aught for thyself from France, but her applause. Thine only recompense her love and trust. And the all-glorious titles Good and Just ! LXXXVII. By many a precipice thy path hath wound. And thou hast trod with honor amid all ; Whether at York thy brow with laurel crowned, At Ohnutz pent within a dungeon's wall. Or by Huger half rescued — followed — found, — Seeing republics rise — usurpers fall — Or binding Bourbon's crown on Philip's brow, — As from the first thou wert, so art thou now ! HESPEKIA. 47 LXXXVIII. But never yet came royal progress nigh The jubilee thy second visit wrought; Thine was a Nation's triumph, — every eye And tongue enthusiasm's welcome caught ; Blessing and praise and prayer and tear and sigh Gushed out from every heart and lip unbought ; While a whole people, with one will, one voice. Pressed round thee to embrace and to rejoice ! LXXXIX. Said not the subtle Tuscan, if men knew ^ How to be utterly or bad, or good Without alloy of guilt or weakness, few Who acted out their part could be withstood ? France from two lives might deem the maxim true. No less thine own than his, — the daring, shrewd. Apostate priest. Her storms have all o'erthrown Save Lafatetxe and Talleyrand alone ! '^ 48 HESPERIA. xc. He too our wilderness did once explore With eyes not unobservant, and foretold Part of our fortunes, — shunning to know more. And even then hating what the Fates unrolled : He left us, to regain his native shore. And mingling in the strife for power and gold, Witty and selfish, changed with every blast, A weathercock, still faithful to the last ! XCI. Ealeigh ! thy State-House once was proud to show A statue worthy of thy name and race ; Around the hero Roman garments flow ; He sits, and with his stylus seems to trace His last farewell ! — Image and shrine are low In dust and ashes, and the flames efface Virtue's majestic form by G-enius planned, Columbia's father from Canova's hand ! ^ HESPERIA. 49 XCII. There is, if we may trust the fearful tale, A shadowy ship that haunts the Cape of Storms ; No breeze obstructs her course, no calm, no gale ; Her deck with gaunt grim-visaged phantoms swarms; Foaming she flies under full press of sail, Which winter freezes not, nor summer wanns ; A restless wanderer of the lonely deep. Whose sight makes seamen's veins with terror creep. XCIII. They are the luckless Palatines, betrayed By fiendish avarice on this desert shore. Whose voluntary wreck their master made. That he might add their riches to his store : But Heaven its vengeance in the act displayed, — He perished too. His ship and all she bore Haunt since that fatal hour the dreaded cape, Whose shoals, even though thus warned, so few escape. 3 D 50 HESPEKIA. XCIV. The lofty Apalachian range survey ! Mountains of Plutus, whose rich veins run gold : This precious ore, now open to the day, How fiercely, madly, was it sought of old ! Nor only by base hinds of vulgar clay, Since Raleigh for such heaps as these had sold, Nay, for their hope did sell, a- spotless name, Freedom and life, and centuries of fame ! XC V. Bright, sparkhng pile ! dull Earth's most glittering prize, Of wealth the brief epitome and sign. The type of worth, — bewitching mortal eyes. At least I humbly own enchanting mine, — What fascination in thy glances lies ! What grace, what grandeur, in thy presence shine ! For thy seducing smile what votaries strive, Crassus, Pizarro, Cortes, Bacon, Clive ! HESPEEIA. 51 XCVI. In my hot youth I did account thee base, Forswore thy worship, and renounced thy name. Defied thy touch, ay ! and blasphemed thy fiice For empty Pleasure and still emptier Fame: What brought they ? Disappointment and Disgrace, Imputed faults and genius, — pride and shame, — False friends, that cooled, and summer loves, that flew With the first wintry, withering blast that blew. XCVII. I do repent me of that early sin, The folly of my inconsiderate days ; And now, however late, would fain begin To burn thee incense, and to hymn thy praise ; If all who truly worship thee may win, I too would offer thee a Laureate's lays, — Haply for ears tuned to sweet chimes unfit. And yet not worse than have for Gold been writ. 52 HESPERIA. XC VIII. Most subtle casuist ! pure, and calm, and sweet, — Whose sure persuasion, eloquent though dumb. Ever converted men the most discreet. Or if it failed, failed only in the sum, — Where shall we find thee i-ank and title meet, High Priestess of the Kingdom not to come, — Since even now thy rule and reign are seen. Rock of all faiths, — of every realm the queen ? XCIX. Sinew of war ! who, bartering gold for steel. Reaps with such steel anew the golden grain ; Thine are the charms that even Caesars feel. Sovereign of Earth, and mistress of the main, Beneath whose shock, religions, empires reel. And pontiffs', kings', and prophets' power is vain ; Sole subterranean monarch ever dear. And never past the reach of Love or Fear ! HESPERIA. 63 c. True Poliorcetes ! — conqueror of towns, — Corrupter of all virtue, rule, and state, Sapper of treaties, oaths, and thrones and crowns. Sole argument of most unquestioned weight, — Even Beauty yields beneath thy smiles or frowns, Thou universal menstruum of Fate ! Solvent of statesmen and of vestal's vows, The only spotless, pure, and perfect spouse ! CI. Great Theologian ! regent of each creed, Philosopher of no one sect, but all, — Sceptic and Platonist in thee agreed, And Evangehc Doctors hear thy call : Thine is a voice that answers to the need Of all " that stand as fearing they may fall : " Jew, Christian, Moslem, Persian, Brahmin, own Thou art above the altar and the throne ! 54 HESPERIA. CII. The patriot's ardor flags when he hath felt His veins with thy magnetic fluid teem ; The icicles on Dian's temple melt, If caught a moment in thy genial beam ; Ev'n on our thoughts of Heaven thy spells are dealt, For decked with thee celestial cities gleam, And Angels', Seraphs' plumes and pinions glow "With gold in Heaven above as Earth below ! cm. Terrestial Iris ! whose soft neutral tint Blends many-colored minds with matchless skill, — Resistless Potentate ! who need but hint, By sign or whisper, Power's capricious will To send thy myrmidons of steel and flint Where'er thou wouldst, to torture, waste, or kill, — Far, far as empires spread or oceans roU, From East to West, from Indus to the pole ! HESPEEIA. 65 CIV. Gods owned thy skill, Danae felt thy might ; To Jove himself thy force was not unknown ; Right became wrong, and wrong was turned to right, If in Astrsea's balance thoa wert thrown ; And Truth herself would hold the day for night, If in her eyes thy dazzling splendor shone : Saved by dull orbs, that nothing blinds or charms. She finds in ignorance her only arms ! CV. Beneath thy ceaseless dropping-dew attacks. Even adamantine Honor rusts away ; Before thy touch, severed like burning flax. Love — Nature — Life's most holy ties decay ; Through thee alone doth Glory wane or wax. And powers, thrones, creeds, dominions, own thy sway : Ay, more, — they pass from Earth and leave no sign, - No power, throne, creed, dominion, lasts but thine ! 56 HESPEEIA. C VI. Daughter of Mammon ! all-pervading Gold ! Arch-temptress of the God-betraying kiss, — Idol of fool and sage, and young and old, — Hope of all hearts, — Earth's sole substantial bliss, — Thou one true Love ! that ne'er with age grew cold, " TeU me which way I must be damned for this ! " The easy lesson thou hast often taught To all whose " wish was father to that thought." CVII. But my mind wanders ! — all before my eye Fades from my soul, which turns at last to her, The single loadstar of a gloomy sky And stormy, pathless deep, on which I err : Again the fated hour of life is nigh, And to the time and scene my thoughts recur. When, as they touched, our being's circles shed A more than starry influence on my head. HESPERIA. 57 CVIII. "We met ! . . . this is the night ! . . . 'T is now five years Since first I gazed — and spoke — and loved in vain ! Alas ! how often have I wept hot tears, Musing upon that hour, its bliss, its pain, — False hopes, deep griefs, and too prophetic fears, — The breaking heart, and the unbroken chain, — Constraint and absence, — sickness, misery, doubt, — Fierce pangs within, a heartless world without ! CIX. I see thee now ! even as I saw thee stand That night — in pale, sad loveliness apart ; While pressed the proudest round on either hand. Intent to do thee homage ! Lone of heart, I gazed as on a statue of the land Whose godlike marbles into being start. And live, and love, a bright, celestial band, All breathing of the Heaven by Grecian genius planned ! 3* 58 HESPERIA. ex. Amid that crowd I saw but thee alone, And since have had no eyes for aught but thee : Ere then long years of misery had flown, Moody despair and frantic revelry Upon my brow untimely frosts had strewn ; Nor did I dream again on earth to see One who could yet recall the early tone That Beauty's beams inspire — ay, even in hearts of stone ! CXI. Mine answered to thy touch, — and trembles still With hope and joy, even at thy footsteps' sound ; The echo of thy voice awakes a thrill, And breathes delight on all the air around ; Yes, and the eye, though time and absence chill Thy dear, far-traveUed missives, which abound With the soul's eloquence, drinks in its fill Of all that moves the heart with good and ill ! HESPEKIA. 59 CXII. 'T is time to pause ! Full many a weary mile I have retraced in fancy's dream for you ; Never, alas ! will an approving smile Tempt me my patient labor to renew: No witness, no rewarder of my toil, Shall with a tear my faltering lines bedew. No matter ! — 't was devotion deep, sincere. Not hope, brought forth my offering — It is here ! HESPEEIA. CANTO II. " Sive illam Hesperus, sive illam ostendet Eois, Uret et Eoos, uret et Hesperios." Pbopert. Occurris quum mane mihi, ni purior ipsS, Luce nova exoreris, lux mea, dispeream. Quod si nocte venis, jam vero, ignoscite, Dea, Talis ab Occiduis Hesperus exit aquis." Corn. Gall. CANTO SECOND. VIEGINIA. " patria degna di trionfal fama, Di magnanimi madre." Daste. I. I DKEAMED jou Smiled, and urged me to resume The task that cheats my solitary hours : I fear it may not be ; — a deeper gloom Sinks o'er my withered soul, whose wasted powers No hght or hope can ever reillume, Save such as Heaven through Death in mercy showers. But no ! — no more — this must not be. Again I hide my sorrows and renew my strain. 64 HESPEEIA. II. Virginia ! mother of the mighty dead, Chieftain, and sage, and orator, — the three Foremost of all who spoke, or wrote, or bled,'' To win their country's birthright, Liberty ! The light unquenchable on darkness shed By these ttree minds shall shine eternally Upon the Old Dominion's star-ht brow. Till all the earth is free as she is now ! III. Thy vault, Mount Vernon ! hath become a shrine. Whither the hberal of all lands repair, As if to make that pilgrimage a sign Of the profound devotion which they bear To the great founder of the Right Divine, — Man's glorious right to breathe his native air. Worship — act — thiak and speak and write his mind, Free as that chartered libertine, the wind. HESPEEIA. 65 IV. So hath the prophet's tomb, who did proclaim Truths without which even life were little worth, Spreading abroad in characters of flame " Glad tidings of great joy " to aU the earth ; Which the far nations haU with one acclaim, The glorious gospel of man's second birth : Lo! MoNTiCELLO, where his ashes lie Communing with the sun and stars, and sky. A wider region once, Virginia, bore Thy name, and owned thy rule, — and even yet I may not wander by the silent shore Where first thy Hero and his Princess met. Without a sigh for glory now no more. Lost sway and memories in oblivion set; Thine ancient limits well may hve in song,^ And from my rhyme at least shall meet no wrong. E 66 HESPEEIA. VI. Here rose the extended Empire of the West, Whose wondrous destiny, yet unfulfilled, Leaves men to hope or fear the worst or best Of all the dreamy worlds her children build. The tide roUs onward yet, and knows no rest. And who may say, " Here shall its waves be stiEed " ? Ere you can mark its limits, they are past, And every year gains ages on the last.^ VII. Here is a spot in the wide sea of space — Here is a point in the abyss of time — From whence man's curious eye essays to trace The progress of his kind through good and crime, — The changing fortune of each various race, From Eden's garden, in the Eastern chme,* To the far-distant wilderness, where now Hesperia's golden fruits bend every bough. HESPEEIA. 67 VIII. The light of laws and letters, with the sun, Rose in the East; and central India saw The first career of arts and arms begun. Whose very ruins fill our souls with awe : Mysterious Asia ! now thy course is run. The mighty sketch thy hand alone could draw Of all the future moves our wonder still. Even as a work of more than mortal skill. IX. Gigantic monument of ages fled, — Whose catacombs no history may explore, — Grave of arts, creeds, and languages long dead, — Type of a social system now no more ! Thy rock-hewn temples still inspire our dread, Though Gods, Kings, Priest, and people all are o'er. Mysterious Asia ! well thy might and gloom Become thee, as man's cradle and Time's tomb. 68 HESPEKIA. Thine were the oldest empires upon earth, Thine the first cities and the earliest wars ; From thee Assyria, Persia, had their birth, And wise Chaldcea, who first read the stars : Persepolis and Babylon showed forth Thy glory, wealth, and power, and pride and scars ; Phoenicia, Phrygia, Troy, and Tyre, whose wings Covered the Ocean, as the Prophet sings. XI. Until at length thy colonies ran o'er The bounds of Africa, and founded there That enigmatic Egypt, from whose shore Greece, Italy, and Europe drew their share Of ancient wisdom, — Sidon Carthage bore, — Nubia, Numidia, Ethiopia were, — Colossal Kamac's hieroglyphics sprang. The Punic faith and sacrifice and tongue. HESPEKIA. 69 XII. Then Airic's race began, as Asia's closed, And Theocratic Empires felt the blight Of maritime Republics, and reposed In the dim shadows of eternal night: And Power, by Commerce from old thrones deposed. Westward with arts and letters took his flight, And passed the midland sea — how far ? — who knows ? There are who trace his steps to Andes' snows.* XIII. Greece and her Gods meanwhile their brief, bright reign Of classic splendor, grace, and beauty held, And poets sung the never-dying strain. And heroes wept because the world was quelled : Sage, orator, and pati-iot warned in vain A fickle populace, — whose dream dispelled. Beneath the Roman eagle's iron sway, To parasites, mimes, sophists, shrunk away. 70 HESPERIA. XIV. Now came the giants' war. On Carthage, Rome, Europe on Africa, in hatred gaze : Glory and Power contend with Strength and Gloom, Snatching the Furies' torch to Mght the blaze That fired our world, till the terrific doom Which quenched in blood a continent's last days : Two nations wage the gladiators' strife. From whence one only can escape with life. XV. Over the sea — across the Alps — they spring, 1 To seize each other in Hate's burning clasp; Eome totters to the shock, — her mountains ring With such dread sounds as fainting empires gasp, — " Carthage is at the gates ! " an hour may bring Her and her mortal foe to the death-grasp In desperate struggle Rome's last blow is hiu'led, It falls ! — and Carthage passes from the world ! HESPEEIA. 71 XVI. There is in liistory but one such page : 'Tis not thrones, castles, temples, cities, walls Laid prostrate, — 't is a nation in its rage Strangling another, — 't is a star that falls, A Faith that perishes, a tongue, an age That is extinguished. Rome alone recalls Portentous Africa ! those words of fear. Hateful so long and horrid to her ear. XVII. Thus did Earth's quarrel end. — - And since that day Europe hath held the torch that hghts mankind. Save when the Caliphs' short but glorious sway Startled the Moslem with the march of mind. Brighter and brighter unto perfect day Shall burn that beacon, till it guides the blind. But whether there or here, who knows ? His plan Whose wUl it is, defies all thought of man ! 72 HESPEEIA. XVIII. Perhaps the empire of the world, the reign' Of art and science, with the tide of years And progress of discovery, once again Westward is doomed to roll : a star appears Above the horizon, — not perhaps in vain, But as the symbol sought through blood and tears, To mark that man may yet his vices spurn. And the Saturnian age again return. XIX. Thus much at least seems sure, — or, if not sure, A cheerful probability of Hope, For man's despair a palliative or cure. Not all unworthy with the fiend to cope : From every moral death a life more pure Arises Phoenix-like, — Night does but ope The gate to Mom, — the law of all alive Is live and die, and moulder and revive ! HESPERIA. 73 XX. Nature's sublime and most incessant care Is to create, destroy, and reproduce ; Love, Death, her ministering angels are. Time measures ceaseless change, whose endless use Can neither aught annihilate nor spare, And this perpetual war, which knows no truce. Of Life with Death, Renewal with Decay, Is man's Eternity, and God's To-dat ! XXI. Change blots out change, — their very memory dies, Yet dim traditions of extinguished years Over oblivion's gloomy gulf arise, A sky's first rainbow on the flood's last tears : Glimpses of old creations greet our eyes, Lost Pleiads' symphonies salute our ears, With some Hesperian or Atlantic rhyme. Shedding faint twilight on the depths of Time ! 74 HESPEEIA. XXII. This world now new was once perhaps the old, — Oldest of all not utterly forgot, — For giant Mammoths a luxuriant fold. Monsters that were of earth, and now are not, — Sauri, that both on land and ocean rolled, — Leviathan, Hydrargos, Behemot, Titanic tortoises, Cyclopean trees, — AU that Geology obscurely sees. XXIII. Enough ! — too much — of this ! — 't is but a dream That might provoke the pity of the wise, And cynic's sneer. Return we to our theme. Our country's plains, lakes, rivers, woods, and skies ; Her mountain-cataract and ocean-stream. And Nature's solitude, so dear to eyes That, looking upon man too close an4 long, Are sick of power, guilt, fraud, and force, and wrong. HESPEEIA. '75 XXIV. And eye hath seen no softer, lovelier view '' Than this her forest yields, which now receives. From sun and rain and wind and frost and dew, Its autumn garb of many-colored leaves, Brown, yellow, red, and orange, — every hue, — Yet all seem sad — because the spirit grieves, And from the dying wood is scarcely won Even by the glories of the setting sun. XXV. Fantastic Nature sometimes mimics man, His labors far excelling in her play ; Building in giant mockery on his plan, As here, her wild and wondrous bridge survey.' Look down ! — thy reeling eye can hardly scan Its fearful depth. Below, behold the day Break through the chasm, whose daring arch on high Springs from the mountain-cliffs across the sky ! 76 HESPERIA. XXVI. Graven on the steep, smooth wall of living rock, Full- many an unknown name conspicuous stands, Vaingloriously obscure, as if to mock Man's pride, the work of idly busy hands ; Here too the thirst of fame which braves the shock Of battle has its votaries, and commands That each his name upon the mountain's breast Should plant, defying death, above the rest. XXVII. In boyish daring, one was sculptured there. Far, far surpassing and outbraving all. Behold it yonder, between earth and air, Amid those chffs that scarce forbear to fall ; Well may it be the wonder and despair Of future cragsmen. Shall we madman call The youth, or hero ? — and the motive whence ? How got he there ? — and how escaped he thence ? HESPEEIA. 77 XXVIII. Slow the ascent and toilsome, — dangerous, too. Save to strong hand, sure foot, and steady eye ; Yet, as he ever upwards bent his view, He reached the spot where those loose fragments lie, What none had done, and none again will do, Did and recorded — ere, with piercing cry, Of terror and despair, he marked how far His steps had ventured, and what horrors bar XXIX. All hope of thence returning. Breathless, prone. And almost senseless on the rock he lay, CHnging convulsively to shrub and stone. As the whole scene obscurely reeled away. 'T was but a moment : Reason claimed her throne, Courage resumed his customary sway ; And now, his task to reach the top begun, "What most alarmed him was the sinkinor sun. 78 HESPERIA. XXX. Upward, and upward still, afraid to rest. With dewy brow, and strained yet quivering limb, He seeks to gain the precipice's crest, Ere night destroys that only hope for him : For eve approached in sober twilight vest. And objects in the deepening gloom grew dim ; He raised his voice, but Echo heard alone. And gave him back his words in plaintive tone ! XXXI. More and more slowly, in the uncertain light, Weary and doubtful now, he totters on : Far yet the summit, and the closing night Shows but too plainly every hope is gone ! No ! there are shouts, and torches burning bright : See, his beloved companions one by one Approach, their ropes of vines and withes prepare. And lift him fainting into u^per air ! HESPEKIA. 79 XXXII. Another marvel yet, the spar-decked cell/ Palace or grot of Nymph or Fay unknown, Or, it may be, the ancient oracle Of barbarous deities, that held their throne By this chill fount, whose petrifying spell Turned god, priest, votary, offering, all to stone : Throughout, the huge, rich, rare, and strange prevail, As in the Genii's caves of Eastern tale. XXXIII. Dahnatia! truly have thy children said, " Caverns are sacred : " in their depths we feel A solemn awe, a vague and silent dread Over our heart and soul and senses steal. As though we called the spirits of the dead Earth's long embosomed secrets to reveal, And in each hollow and reverberate sound A fitting, chill, mysterious echo found. 80 HESPEEIA. XXXIV. Above New River's cliffs projects on high A peak that almost trembles in the air ; Fit eyrie for the eagle, when this sky Was ever silent as these rocks are bare : From this sharp ledge the strongest, steadiest eye Into the gulf no long fixed gaze can dare, Nor coolest brain continue self-possest : — It is a spot well named " The Falcon's Nest ! " XXXV. These mountains once — so runs the Indian tale,'" — Did with the Mammoth's monstrous brood abound ; Before their rage the infant world grew pale. Their tramp and bellowing shook the solid ground ; Beneath their thirst whole lakes and rivers fail, — In wantonness they strewed the forest round, — And herb and tree, and man and beast, destroyed. Threatening to lay creation waste and void. HESPEEIA. 81 XXXVI. Huge as the frowning precipice, and fierce As the bloodthirsty panther in his spring, — Swift as the Eagle, swooping down to pierce His quarry, with spread talon and closed wing, — Agile as frightened prairie-dog who hears The reptile monarch's warning rattle ring, — Crafty as flying Huron on his path. And like the evil spirit in their wrath. XXXVII. Unto Che-Manitou earth cried aloud. And the Great Father heard his chUdi-en's cry : Swift to chastise the cruel and the proud. He drew his forked arrows from the sky, And shot them through his blackest thunder-cloud On the. rebellious herd, who groan and die : Like mountains upon mountains rose the slain, — Such sight the stars will never see again. 4* P 82 HESPERIA. XXXVIII. All but one perished, — greatest of them all, Fiercest and mightiest of monsters born. On him in vain the red-hot lightnings fall. He shakes the thunderbolts aside with scorn, Till of his race none hear or heed his call ; Then from the mountain-tops that love the mom Clears the Ohio, o'er the Wabash springs. And near the sleeping sun roams king of kings ! XXXIX. Bright Shenandoah's valley ! — sweet and pure. By AUeghany and Blue-Eidge walled in, An earthly Eden, meant to be secure From strife and war, — almost from pain and sin : Did the primeval curse admit of cure, This spot exemption from its ills might win. Fit site, amid these hiUs, beside this stream. For Plato's commonwealth, or Sydney's dream ! HESPEEIA. 83 XL. In youthful exile, wandering here unknown, Experience gathering with much grief and pain. The future monarch of a well-poised throne Learned from adversity the art to reign : That rugged nurse of mind has often shown Hers is the school of schools wherein to gain BJiowledge distinct and clear of men and things ; Her hard-taught princes make the best of kings. XLI. Otter ! thy sohtary peaks look down In lonely pride upon a lovely view ; A boundless plain, — river, and wood, and town, With seas of waving grain of every hue; The deep-green maize, mingled with golden brown, Like sands or shoals amid the ocean's blue : This map of life, with all its care and woe. Teach us how high we are, and they how low. 84 HESPEEIA. X L 1 1 . Not without reason did the Gentiles choose High places for their altars, — as we climb, Upwards toward Heaven, our lightened spirits lose The weight that bows them down to space and time Homage an atheist scarcely could refuse, 'Mid Himalayan solitude sublime ; And many a peak-throned Tuscan vesper-bell Shows where Eeligion's hermits love to dwell. XLIII. Lake of the Dismal Swamp ! whose dreary fen, Where even yet the water-serpent breeds. Was long untrodden by the feet of men, A tangled brake of juniper and reeds : Now made immortal by Moore's magic pen, In that sad song, o'er which the bosom bleeds. Of the fond maid in death and madness true, Her ghost, and fire-fly lamp, and light canoe ! HESPEEIA. 85 XLIV. Chief of her cities ! can I pass thee by, Richmond ! without at least one grateful word To hail the pile that towers toward the sky, Thy Capitol, — where late I saw and heard Thy chosen sons in council grave and high," Marshall and Madison, and him who stirred Men's hearts with eagle gaze and thrilling voice, Randolph ! the friend of Leigh and Tazewell's choice. XLV. And yet the scene I witnessed in those halls. Though much it moved me, touched far less my heart. Than did some stanzas traced within thy walls. With soul-subduing pathos, void of art, Which often to my memory recalls Some passages wherein one bore a part. For whom that lay was written, well deserved In gratitude for life and love preserved. 86 HESPEEIA. XL VI. I have yet more, and much to say of thee, Beloved Virginia ! but I must begone ; Thou hast been ever as a home to me. Full often sought and fondly lingered on : Yet further speech a question may not be. Farewell ! I leave thy eulogy to one ^^ — His name and land I know not, nor may guess — Who knew thee well, and did not love thee less ! XLVII. There was a sound of revelry and mirth Within the city of immortal name, Some three days past the era of his birth Who left his country, liberty, and fame, And rank among the nations of the earth : 'T was from an envoy's halls the music came. Where beauty led the dance, and wine and song The jocund hours of night till morn prolong. HESPEEIA. 87 XLVIII. Upon that night we met ! . . . The hour, the scene Remain forever graven on my heart, And ever since that meeting there hath been No Hfe or joy for me but where thou art ! . . . Years have rolled on, and oceans intervene, — We are, and may be all our days, apart, — Yet with that hour wiU busy memory twine My life, my soul's existence, into thine ! XLIX. Time has struck deeper furrows in my brow. And grief has silvered o'er my hair since then. But other change is none. I love thee now As none have been, or will be loved agen ; Mine is no flame the lips need disavow, My love is not the common love of men : What have I to dissemble or conceal. Who dare tell Heaven all I felt and feel? 88 HESPERIA. 0, as I think upon that one bright hour Which o'er long years of hopeless misery came, Silence must speak ! — the pen has lost its power Unless it traced its characters in flame : All the soul's love, the bard's immortal dower, A life's devotion, and a deathless name, If they were mine to give, were far too small For thee, to whom I owe much more, — ay, aU ! LI. I loved thee, but thou knew'st it not, — my sighs '' Were all unheard of thee, — the burning ' tears Wrung from my soul have never met thine eyes. Though they have held my heart's sole light for years ! I loved thee as men love the stars and skies, Without a lover's hopes, or doubts, or fears, For thou wert far above me, and could share No thought of mine but wild, deep, mute despair ! HESPEKIA. 89 LII. I loved — I love thee, although well aware Thou know'st not, nor can know, nor would return The fatal passion, and my only care Is that the self-consuming flame shaU burn Unseen, unheard, unknown of earth and air, t Down, down to ashes in its funeral urn : Even this frail record is not to survive, Foredoomed to dust while I am yet ahve ! LIU. If I could steal the poetry of heaven, Each line the Ughtning, every word a star, Over the deep, clear, azure vault at even. In a mild summer's twilight flashing far, ■ — • Or choral harmonies in concert given By ever-tuneful orbs, if such there are, — Which join to make the music of the spheres Unheard on earth save by some dreamer's ears : " 90 HESPEKIA. LIT. Then might I hope indeed at last to trace One lay, the heir of immortality, Not all unworthy of thy form and face. . . . But the wild wish is vain ! ... It may not be ! . . . Our memories will fade, our names, our race, Yet even oblivion, when thus shared with thee, Is dearer far, if thou must be unlmown. Than never-dying laurels worn alone ! LV. O, would to God I were with thee once more In Nature's sweet and holy solitude, Wandering as once we did by the sea-shore. Or in the shade of some far-spreading wood, Where our full hearts with their deep thoughts ran o'er, Mingling their currents like a mountain flood In a bright silver lake, whose bosom gave Heaven's loveliest image softened in its wave. HESPEEIA. 91 LVI. Those days are gone ! — Will they return agen ? Or are they past forever ? — Prisoned now In this vast wilderness of heartless men, The worst of solitudes, my clouded brow Marks but too truly what I must not pen. Nor even breathe to thee ; — these scenes allow No thought but one, — this is Ambition's lair, And thou wouldst have me worship — How ? and where ? LVII. Must I not coin false smiles ? — obey the beck Of the stern wizard whom dull fools enshrine In their cold souls ? Must I not bend the neck. And crook the knee, — the patient ear inchne, — Curb my free thoughts, — seek favor in the wreck Of others' fame and fortune, — freeze or shine, As great men bid, — in flowers corruption dress. And hail Pride, Hate, Fraud, Envy, and Excess ? 92 HESPERIA. LVIII. No, no ! let orators harangue, and deem The fate of nations hangs upon a vote, — I am not one of them. Let patriots dream, And demagogues on their dear people doat. All that I am, thou knowest ! What I seem, To dark and dull oblivion I devote : "What men least thought I prized, thou saw'st I wore. Hid from the vulgar, deep in my heart's core ! LIX. And why then mingle in the party race, Where pohticians ply their paltry game ? Thou canst bear witness 'twas no hope to grace The future page of history with my name : 'T was not ambition ! Bank, and power, and place I hold in scorn, — too careless even of Fame : Had I that idol of the herd adored, Mine should have been the homage of the Sword ! HESPEKIA. 93 LX. For THEE my neck unto this yoke I bowed, No willing servant even of the free ; Spuming restraint, disdainful of the crowd, Statesman I am not, and will never be, — For rule too indolent, for strife too proud, — A calm inglorious Sylla but for thee ! No power could work the miracle but thine : 'T was thou wouldst have me rise and rule and shine ! LXI. There ai-e, who in our Capitol might feel Proud of their country, — whose prophetic eye. And filial love, and patriotic zeal, Might laud her future glories to the sky. Deeming the visions of their fancy real. 'T is natural ! young hopes are ever high : With us the past is nothing, — all our share Of Time is yet to come, — we revel there ! 94 HESPERIA. LXII. If I choose other themes, 'tis not because I love my countrj less, or view with cold Or careless eye her equal rights and laws, Prosperity and greatness : from the mould The fiery mass its shape and purpose draws, Nor will my spirit's temper be controlled : With Nature ever are my thoughts and heart. Far from court, city, camp, and crowd and mart ! LXIII. Yet I have mingled in the giddy throng, Where all the passions of the world were rife, Been hurried by the stormy wave along. And borne no idle part in busy life ; Upheld the weak, and struggled with the strong, — Ay, and partook the rapture of the strife ! Still from the dark, cold deep, like Noah's dove. My heart returned to seek the ark of love ! HESPEEIA. 95 LXIV. And in this gay and ever-shifting scene, Amid the great and lovelj of the land, I reck not of what is, but what has been, I mark the spots on which I saw thee stand, Eecall thy very attitude and mien. Thy voice, thy look, the gesture of the hand, Forgetting all the world to think of one. And starting from my dream to find her gone ! LXV. Hence, hence ! — I care not where, — yet ere we go One glance upon the quiet of the grave : Here is the end of human bliss and woe. The home of rich and poor, and free and slave : Here Pinkney — Clinton — Gerry's tombs they show, And others of the wise, the good, the brave : — How calm the dead sleep on their mother's breast ! Well may the living envy them their rest ! *' 96 HESPEEIA. LXVI. The monumental city's shrines appear, Spire, cross, and column rising one by one : Beside her watery mirror cahn and clear. Her tiny fort lies basking in the sun, Its flag, once watched through fire by hope and fear. Now sleeping lazily, its laurels won ; While to the left is seen the wood and plain "Where by a stripling's weapon Ross was slain ! LX VII. Home of my thoughts ! Nurse of my infant days And childish joys, young hopes, and brightest dreams ! Scene of my boyish dangers, griefs, and plays, O, how I loved thy hills, and woods, and streams. Thy falls, thy rocks, thy fountains, creeks, and bays ! FamOiar still, but changed, the landscape seems. And with an orphan and an exile's heart. Grave of my sire ! in sadness I depart ! HESPERIA. 97 LXVIII. Agnes ! — my Agnes once, — where, where art thou ? '* Who could believe thou wouldst so soon forget Early affection's all-confiding vow, And deep simplicity ? I hold them yet As memories of the dead, — more holy now. And always innocent. Till nature's debt Is paid, the heart must evermore retain Of its first blighted love the scar and pain ! LXIX. Here other scenes and names that Time or War Hath hallowed in men's hearts the Muse might find. But Maryland hath nobler claims by far Upon the love and reverence of mankind : Here Toleration, Bethlem's second stai-. Rose, dazzling Persecution madly blind. And lit the Christian world, till furious zeal In shame renounced his fagot, fire, and steel.'" 5 G 98 HESPEEIA. LXX. On ! on ! beside the Delaware I stand, 'Mid the descendants of peace-loving men, Who, with plain garb, broad hat, and formal band, Followed the fortunes and the faith of Penn ; Not only here, but over all the land How wonderful the changes wrought since then ! Arts, laws, religion, language, time and space, Have passed forever to another race ! LXXI. Behold the pile where, kindled by our sires, The sacred sparks of Independence rose ; Slight hope at first its feeble flame inspires ; Few are its friends, many and great its foes. Now to the heavens its glorious blaze aspires And over half the world its lustre throws ; By distant nations hailed with joy and pride, Man's hope and refuge, beacon-light and guide ! '^ HESPEEIA. 99 LXXII. Mark, too, an edifice more humble, where This world's first Congress met, — the little leaven That blent all creeds in one harmonious prayer, And had their answer in its omens given To "Washington and Henry kneeling there,'"' And Eandolph, Eutledge, Jay, before high Heaven : Think what they felt when rose upon their ear, " Son of Man, set thy face against Mount Seir ! " LXXIII. Sweet "Wyoming ! thy melancholy tale Hath been embalmed by Genius in our tears, — Such is its privilege ! Thy rural vale Umioticed had gone down the tide of years. With "Waldgrave's grief, and Outahssi's wail. And Gertrude's charms, — but Campbell's page appears, And from that hour did Wyoming belong To the immortal names of Love and Song ! 100 ' HESPEEIA. LXXIV. Trenton! I may not pass thy battle-field, Where Mercer fell, with cold or careless eye. Though to such scenes my spirit doth not yield More than the passing tribute of a sigh. War I abhor, and hearts by carnage steeled. And far from strife and bloodshed fain would fly ; But Freedom's fields are sacred, won or lost, With all not reckless of the price they cost ! LXXV. And if I shun the clamor and the clank Of arms and armies, and the victor's crown, 'T is not, perhaps, because the foremost rank Of danger would deter me from renown ; At other thoughts than those my spirit sank, — The ravaged country and the pillaged town. All that no ear should hear, no tongue may tell. The miseries of earth, and crimes of hell ! HESPERIA. 101 LXXVI. Such are the fruits of War ! yet I confess I have hung o'er its annals with delight, And for an hour forgot, or hated less, Its horrors, — thinking only of the fight, Skill, courage, science, strategy, address. Whatever glosses wrong or blazons right : And still on battle-grounds before my eyes The day, the hosts, their chiefs and fortunes, rise ! LXXVII. And more than once at many and many a spot Where blood was shed in our just cause I 've been. From that which echoed the first hostile shot. To that which saw the drama's closing scene ; Traced the campaigns of Lee, Brown, Shelby, Scott, Glates, Wayne, Montgomery, Washington, and Greene, And many a fort, hiU, river, bridge, and plain. Famed for its victors brave, or glorious slain ; — 102 HESPEEIA. LXXVIII. And other fields since then in foreign lands ^^ Have seen with other eyes, — and wandered through Ruins that mocked Time, fire, and hostile bands, Gaul, Vandal, Goth, Hun, Scythian old and new, — And held by chance a moment in my hands The mightiest of man's relics, false or true. It was Earth's sceptre once — the World adored — And I apostrophized, A Conquerok's Sword ! LXXIX. Tartaric God of slaughter, skulls, and war! Howe'er invoked by Cossac, Sclave, or Hun, — Cimri or Celt or Calmuc, — Mars or Thor, — Odin or Irmensul, — Thou still art one ! The one whose eagles scent their prey afar. And banquets feed the wolf and taint the sun, — Thou sole Barbarian Demon yet unhurled From out the Heaven that rules a Christian world ! ^ HESPERIA. 103 LXXX. Dread Juggernaut ! Death-dealing lord of life ! Millions on millions to thy altar come ; Like sheep before the all-devouring knife Thy victim-votaries fall, by beat of drum : Oceans of blood — six thousand years of strife — And thou art stiU Earth's idol, — deaf and dumb. Men prize their life above the costliest gem. Yet justly worship all who slaughter them ! ^ LXXXI. Come to my grasp, bright Fiend ! with thee the brave Carve through this wilderness, the "World, their way; Old, young, and rich and poor, and free and slave, Kingdom and sects and systems, own thy sway. Well dost thou reap the harvest of the grave, The work of Death fuMUing, night and day ; Emblem of aU we fear, love, hope, and hate. Another name for Glort, and for Fate ! 104 HESPERIA. LXXXII. The lictor's fasces, and the curule chair, Thrones, powers, dominions, crescent, cross, and crown. Crosiers and dynasties, thy playthings are, And wax and wane beneath thy smile or frown : Thine the arbitrament of foul and fair, Monarchs thou settest up and pullest down. Almighty Steel ! Earth's sole and sovereign liege ! Lord of the storm, the battle, and the siege ! LXXXIII. Unerring critic thou ! the only sound And sure distributor of praise and blame ! Unconquerable despot! calm, profound, And solemn hypocrite ! In Mercy's name Thou pour'st out blood hke water on the ground. And callest homicide and rapine Fame ! Eternal arbiter of Eight and "Wrong, God, Law and Priest and Prophet of the strong! HESPERIA. 105 LXXXIV. Divine Lawgiver, too, by force of birth ! Acute interpreter of Eight and Just ! Test of all Trutt and Power, and Skill and Worth, In whom but thee shall we repose our trust ? Thou universal tongue of all the earth, Who teachest to the nations, man is dust ! Thine is the youth that never yet grew old. And thine the touch converting all to gold ! LXXXV. Caesar, Napoleon, Cromwell, three in one ! Thou consecratest massacre with praise. And winnest even the sisters of the Sun To crown the waster of the earth with bays : While aught remains to win, thou deem'st naught won, Eagles alone upon thy Ught may gaze, — Of history the universal theme, Power's bright epitome. Ambition's dream ! 5* 106 HESPERIA. LXXXVI. Great founder of all empires, codes, and schools ! Infallible expounder of aU creeds ! Whose oracles none doubt, not ev'n the fools. Though hecatomb to hecatomb succeeds : Thou one true God of Hosts ! whose thunder rules, And altar-smoke ascends, and victim bleeds. Honor, and praise, and glory to thy name. For slaughtered millions and a world in flame ! LXXXVII. Of every faith the propagator thou ! Illuminating still the darkest gloom ; Jerusalem attests it even now. The Gaul and Goth thou led'st to Greece and Rome, Made e'en the giant Andes' idols bow. And turned old Egypt's temples to a tomb ! All sects by turns are honored with thy choice. And thou in earth's conversions hath a voice ! HESPERIA. 107 LXXXVIII. Idolatry thou didst of old attaint, Before thine edge the Runic worship ceased, Beneath thy flash the Guebres' fire grew faint, Thy light the Gospel of the Cross increased. And on thy point the badge of Mecca's saint Blazed like a sun over the startled East ! Thine is the thunder, whosesoe'er the nod, And thou the minister of every God! LXXXIX. While gazing on thee thus, most glorious steel! Thou shinest like a calm, clear, heavenly isle. Son of the Morning ! whose high signs reveal The Monarch's sceptre, or the Rebel's pile, — Star of all human Destinies ! I kneel ^ And ask of thee an omen and a smile, — Glory and triumph to the hand that draws, Like Washington's, thy blade in Freedom's cause ! 108 HESPEKIA. xc. ■ Amid the glare of lights and coil of men, Between the witching hour and break of day Within the Capitol I stand agen, To watch the angry passions sport and play, As if from some deep pent-up mountain-glen The elements in fury forced their way : And yet the while, so fierce my bosom's strife, This tempest but provokes a smile at life ! XCI. Senates disperse, — exhausted statesmen rest, — Ambition pauses, — Faction gathers breath, — One half the 'world reposes, curst and blest. Just and unjust, the sons of Cain and Seth. Calm sleeps the moon upon Potomac's breast. And the tired city lies as stiU as death ! With the pale stars — before the dawn — shall fade A Nation's pageant soon, — the shadow of a shade. HESPERIA. 109 XCII. The spell dissolves that held me too a while In bondage, 'mid the politician's throng : It was not fame I courted, but Tht smile, And now I give my heart to love and song; Wondering that toils so vain, and breath so vile, And cares so base -— falsehood, and fraud, and wrong - Should e'er have held me captive for an hour Among the slaves of party or of power. XCIII. Yet if I toiled, 't was for one loved one's sake ; If I have won distinction, 't was to stir An interest in after times, and make History believe me not unworthy Hee : But now these halls forever I forsake, Nor further laud or blame may e'er incur. Nor taunt, retort, nor jest, nor gibe, nor sneer, Applause or eloquence, shall tempt me here ! 110 HESPERIA. XCIV. If I disdained not praise, it was to save One name that should be brighter than my own ; Nor have I ever sought, nor do I crave, A niche to fill in gloomy state, alone : I would have both immortal, or one grave To hide them both, — unhonored and unknown. The last were best, to guard from worms our dust, — Earth should have one such secret in its trust! XCV. My task is done ! Lightning has set its seal ^^ Upon the words I uttered; — after years May find them like the flash of burning steel, And yet prefer these verses quenched in tears : The charm of both is in one word — I feel — And all my soul — love, hate, grief, joy, hopes, fears, In the same simple language bursts away. Alike in all I write, and all I say. HESPEEIA. CANTO III. Turn canit Hesperidum miratam mala puellam. ViEGIL. Aureaque Hesperidum servans fulgentia mala Propter Atlantasum litus, pelagaque severa Quo neque noster adit quisquam neque Barbanis audet. LUCKETIUS. CANTO THIRD ACADIA. Let me, sweet scenes, gaze on you once again ! Lovely, yet sad, though dear to mind and eye, Full of a thousand thoughts of joy and pain. Love and despair ! — I greet ye with a sigh. . . How bright and beautiful are hill and plain. Valley and wood, river and earth and sky ! Familiar all! . . . One look before we part, One tear for aH that struggles at my heart ! 114 HESPEEIA. II. Before my steps these paths again explore, Or on this view my tear-dimmed glance is cast, Years must roll on, and many a distant shore Be trod, and many a weary hour be passed ! . . . Unless for me, hope is forever o'er, And this indeed is my life's autumn blast : It may be so ! — then my last look is given To the last spot between my soul and Heaven ! III. What if in sooth it be so ? — it is well ! Adieu ! all, all, to which my heart has thrilled. . . . They should have tolled for me that village bell. But let that pass ! — His pleasure be fulfilled ! — In Ocean's depths, or foreign narrow cell, I shall sleep sound, in couches little skilled. And so, loved shades, fond friends, dear thoughts, adieu ! My last regrets on earth remain with you ! HESPEEIA. 115 IV. Time has brought round again the eventful day Whereon our Fate, or mine at least, has set The seal that never can be worn away : Kept ever like a hoUday as yet. It may be so no more. I dread to say "We part perhaps forever ! Every threat Omens can utter, close and shadow o'er The future of my life, and darken all before ! Sick, sad, divided — every hope destroyed, Your much-loved home abandoned, and the halls My heart once cherished, hallowed, and enjoyed. Now showing only bare and desolate walls, Where with art's luxuries once affection toyed, Their sweet profusion such as only falls Where love's own hands adorn, not overload, With all that 's rich and rare, fond beauty's blest abode ! 116 HESPERIA. VI. How deeply, how unutterably dear Were all those nameless trifles, passing show, Gathered for thee, through many an anxious year ; Each one a record of such bhss and woe As those who breathe no sigh and shed no tear. But suffer silently, alone may know. While their own heart they fruitlessly devour. And perish, pang by pang, from hour to hour ! VII. Those fond memorials ne'er will meet my gaze. Far scattered now, to the four winds of heaven ; — The fairy bower that shunned Apollo's rays. And all its spells, are gone ! — Asunder riven Is every link of my once happier days ; — Vainly I 've toiled and planned, and thought and striven ! Each effort Destiny has frowned upon. And now fareweU ! Despair's last goal is won ! HESPEEIA. 117 VIII, I see Fate means to part us ! . . . Nay, I feel That we are parted now — to meet no more. In Tain against the blow my heart I steel ; What I can beai', thou knowest by what I bore, Tortures more dreadful than the stake or wheel, — Yet like a ghost by the upbraiding shore I must ghde forth at Night^s high hour to steal Another look at shrines where Love himself might kneel ! IX. At every step a thousand memories spring ! I pass the stately pile where first we met, — Its walls no more with mirth and music ring, The fortunes of the house and host have set : The mansion stands; but he, the Envoy — Fling Oblivion o'er the blood self-shed, that wet The fatal hearth to which our memories cling, While madness o'er our friend slow flapped her raven wing! 118 HESPEEIA. Was his despair uato nay love a sign Of evil omen ? Time approves it true ! What could I hope ? My homage at thy shrine Were Goddess worship vain ! What might I do ? Save bury in my heart the unsunned mine Of deep affection's treasures, strange and new, And the lost, late found, useless prize deplore, Waging mad war on Doom for ever more ! XI. And here, because 't was once a wish of thine. Though its fulfilment thou must never know. Return I to my theme, to muse and pine 'Mid sweet, sad reveries, that overflow In spite of me my page. Couldst thou divine The thoughts that make my only bhss and woe, Ev'n thou might'st pity me ; but that were vain, — To wound thy peace would but increase my pain ! HESPEEIA. 119 XII. In fancy, then, majestic Hudson's course I trace again, — once followed from the bay. Into whose ample bosom Commerce pours The wealth of nations, — wandering day by day Through scenes of fame and beauty to his source, — Endeai-ed by names well worthy of a lay Immortal as themselves, — far, far above This wasted labor of unuttered love ! XIII. Well named Chatiemac ! — (the stately swan,) — Cayster is a brooklet by thy side. Ere the first waning moon looked pale and wan. The Master of all Life sought far and wide Earth's sweetest, loveliest spot to rest upon, And chose the hills that overhang thy tide : From his high labors here he sought repose. Between the sea and sound his plastic models rose ! 120 HESPEEIA. XIV. Scene of Che-Manitou's thoughts, works, and days, And huge abortions, strangers to the East, Met6wac once — Long Island now — displays The broken fragments of Creation's feast : Here did the Maker of the world upraise Spirit and man, fish, reptile, bird, and beast : Here Machinito kept forgotten breath. The author of all evil, sin, and death ! XV. And here, in after time, by wizard spell, As a most sage enchanter waved his hand. There rose from insect, flower, and star and shell, A fairy host that owned his sole command : One of the race alone remains to teU (A Culprit Fat) the wonders of the land, Explored in penance, — far beyond the Moon, — A realm the Poet's spirit sought — aJas ! too soon ! HESPEKIA. 121 XVI. Andre ! thy place of capture, and thy cell, And spot where thou didst expiate thy fault — A brave man's only fault — remain to tell Thy story with a painful interest fraught. If Arnold shunned the doom that on thee fell, Dearly the traitor his exemption bought : Who is there now would change thy fate for his, " Though there were nothing but the past and this ! " XVII. Nor may thy captor's lose their virtue's meed. Whose poverty was unseduced by gold; As long as love of Freedom lasts, their deed Unto our children's children shall be told ; Among the great who dared to die or bleed In her most glorious cause shall be enrolled Williams, Van Vort, and Paulding, — through all time Blended with Andre's fate, and Arnold's crime ! 122 HESPERIA. XVIII. Behold the pass he plotted to betray ! A mountain fortress bj the Hudson's side, Whose lofty cliffs envelop half the day With gloom the noble river's glassy tide. Here warlike youth, disciplined to obey. Learn in their turn embattled hosts to guide ; To Virtue ever warned by Treason's shame, And Kosciusko's column, house, and name ! ' XIX. From Catskill's steep look down upon a scene ''■ In grandeur and in beauty unsurpassed! Far as the eye can reach, high mountains screen The landscape, and their deep blue shadows cast On lovely vales of many-tinted green Such mellow hues as memory on the past : While from afar the clear stream winding by Reflects the snowy sail and azure sky. HESPEEIA. 123 XX. Around us are the haunts that Cooper loved, The glens where Irving's Muse her revel kept: Here are the woods where Leatherstocking roved, Yonder the deU where Rip Van Winkle slept : Hence came the legends that so often moved Our admiration as we laughed or wept ; For here it was our country's Genius found Fresh and untouched her own first fairy ground ! XXI. 'T were sweet, but ah ! not wise, to loiter here : Hie we to Saratoga's battle-field ! . . . How many memories to freemen dear Spots by their father's blood made holy yield! Rise, shadows of the past! appear, appear, Gates, Schuyler, and Burgoyne ! . . . but spear or shield Wholly to claim our fond thoughts vainly strive. While Riedesel's and Ackland's names survive ! ^ 124: HESPERIA. XXII. Lake George, Crown Point, Montcalm! — each word a theme* Fraught with long histories of by-gone years ! How many a glorious, many a lovely dream Of half-forgotten lives, deaths, deeds, hopes, fears. Like sunlit spray on liquid crystal gleam, Visions of Heaven reflected through our tears ! I may not picture them, — they sink or break. And leave thy form reflected on the lake ! XXIII. Thus is it ever ! all I hear and see. However great or glorious or sublime. Is valued only as it brings to me Thine image back — and that most happy time When, wandering through these sceries, I found in thee The Muse that prompted many an idle rhyme. How oft the soul's strange alchemy distils With mystic spells and charms its stubborn ills ! HESPERIA. 125 XXIV. In Gerard's portrait, by his pencil wrought Which chEtrms alike the many and the few, It may be only fancy, yet I thought There is much more than meets a careless view : A deep, rich, high, poetic feeling, caught By one who patiently read nature through. Followed each passion in its fiery course. And traced the soul's affections to their source. XXV. Beneath a lamp — upon his page intent. The strong light streaming over all below — You see the artist seated, slightly bent; One hand at once supports and shades his brow : Enshrined beside him Cupid, innocent, Stands all unarmed, — his quiver, torch, and bow No longer needed now ; — their work is done, And they have left behind one dream, — but one ! 126 HESPEKIA. XXVI. 'T is Immortality ! all else is o'er, And thus the painter's moral stands revealed ; " Love was my inspiration ! " ' — evermore Profoundly cherished still when most concealed, The madness buried deep in his heart's core But gave him concentrated strength to wield The powers that, tortured by a hopeless flame. Wrung from their martyrdom a deathless name ! XXVII. Hark ! is it thunder bm-sts upon the ear, Startling a scene as quiet as the grave? Impossible ! the sky is bright and clear, The foi-est sleeps, the winds are in their cave, — Yet it continues ! — Are there breakers near ? Does Erie mimic thus the Ocean's wave, Not in hue only, but in power and sound. Or does an earthquake fright the trembhng ground ? HESPERIA. 127 XXVIII. It is Niagara! draw near the shore,' What greater marvel has been, or can be? The ocean-cataract whose ceaseless roar Has far outlived Fame's immortahty ! Say was it to the Deluge Nature bore This mountain-torrent of an inland sea? Time's wonder tOl the sun and stars expire, And the earth perishes in quenchless fire ! XXIX. Above the frightftd. fall's deceitful brink The raging waters urge their frantic way O'er rock and rapid ; — on the verge they shrink. And seem to linger with a fond delay : Into the gulf at length they slowly sink, To lose themselves in vapor, foam, and spray, And when they rise, returning on their course, They reel as if with horror and remorse ! 128 HESPEEIA. XXX. Approach ! look down the dizzy precipice, And gaze upon the yawning deep below : One step will plunge you into the abyss, And end at once, forever, mortal woe. Death the destroyer ! how sublime is this. Thy thundering avalanche of liquid snow ! What subtle fiends throng round its giddy verge. Tempting Despair to perish in the surge ! XXXI. What desperate delirium thrills the brain Of the devoted, standing thus upon The margin of eternity ! — in vain Instinct and Beason urge us to be gone : We rave like maniacs who have burst their chain, Mocking at death ! — So stood I there with one Who but for me all doubt had madly dared, Before or with me ! — Wherefore were we spared ? HESPEEIA. 129 XXXII. How many tortures had been saved to her ! What useless agonies been shunned by me ! And did we, but to suffer them, prefer To Death and Peace long life and misery ? I know not ! — There are thoughts 't is vain to stir : " As it is written, so it needs must be ! " We lived ? — the lapse of slow revolving years Has brought its harvest, — thistles, thorns, and tears ! XXXIII. Not so the Indian chief! his hour was come. And, bearing from amidst the funeral throng The corpse of her he loved, while all were dumb. Launched his canoe, chanting his own death-song, To mark no fears his warrior-soul benumb. Clasped her cold form, and shooting swift along The whirling, boiling channel, darted o'er The everlasting chasm to rise no more ! 6* I ISO HESPEEIA. XXXIV. What is the speck that downward towards the chute Comes with the current ? Is it but a tree, Or bear, or buffalo, by hot pursuit Driven to adventure on this dangerous sea ? Its movement would declare it man or brute, — No, 't is too large, too high ! — Yes ! it must be A boat ! a boat, — before the stream it drives ! Heavens ! there are men ; row, wretches, for your lives ! XXXV. An oar escapes, — their poles no bottom find ; Onward they drift, — the rapids are at hand ; One hope alone remains, 't is in the wind, — The rising breeze sets strongly toward the land : Prove now, stout hearts, your steadiness of mind ! — Good God ! there is a woman in the band ! — They hoist a sail ! — forward the vessel floats ! Now is the time ! man, oarsmen, man your boats ! HESPEEIA. 131 XXXVI. Hold yet a moment ere you risk your lives ! Rest on your oars, — perhaps it is too late ! You too have children, parents, friends, and wives, And should not thoughtlessly provoke your fate ! . . . See, the sail draws ! before the breeze she drives ! Away, away ! no longer hesitate ! Stretch to the stroke, there yet is time to save The threatened victims from a watery grave ! XXXVII. Forth like an arrow starts the quivering skiff, The foaming eddies curling o'er her prow, Her hands with every muscle strained and stiff, And the dew gathering on each manly brow. They reach the boat, — receive the crew, — the cliff Plainly and fearfully is seen ! — now ! now ! This is the crisis ! . . . How the waters chafe Thus to be cheated of their prey ! . . . They 're safe ! ' 132 HESPEEIA. XXXVIII. And other scenes of horror mark that tide, O'er which man shudders with suspended breath : The yawning gulf, and stream by carnage dyed, Warrior and steed and weapon hurled beneath ; The fearful chance by daring Stedman tried, 'Twixt savage warfare's dreadful forms of death : And shout and groan, and crash, and dying spasm, Eush on the brain that reels above that chasm ! XXXI X. See too the ravening whirlpool's sateless maw,' A maelstrom sweeping all the falls have left ; Where once — (a sight to freeze the soul with awe) ■ Blue, livid corses horrid revel kept, Dived, as they felt the vortex downwards draw, Or from the upward current frantic leaped, Then, circling, danced around, a ghastly band. Who waved or tossed the lifeless head and hand. HESPEEIA. 133 XL. So, in Parthenope's empurpled bay, On Nelson's sight Caraccioli rose. Holding erect through Britain's fleet his way, A dreadful spectre to both friends and foes : As if proclaiming in the face of day A hero's perfidy, and nation's woes, — Shame that old Ocean's depths could not abide, And crime his very caverns blushed to hide ! XLI. St. Lawrence, hail ! guardian of rival shores, Child of the Lakes, Lord of the thousand isles. Amid the Saults how thy wild torrent roars. In thy sweet bays how tranquilly it smiles ! Here Montmorenci, — there La Chaudiere pours Its tribute to thy flood, — Quebec beguiles The traveller's steps to linger, proud to tell The spots where Wolfe, Montcalm, Montgomery fell.' 184: HESPERIA. XLII. Back to my country, by thy tide, Champlain ! '" Its bosom skimming in my steam-borne car, Wh.0 would believe thy sweet, bright, liquid plain Had ever seen its surface vexed by war ? Yet did contending fleets with blood once stain Thy waters' purity ; — 't was when our star "Rose on the fight, and Fate McDonough gave The victor's crown, his gallant foe a grave ! XLIII. 'T is Night ! calm, lovely, silent, cloudless Night ! . Unnumbered stars on Heaven's blue ocean-stream, Ships of Eternity ! shed silver light. Pure as an infant's or an angel's dream : And still exhaustless, glorious, ever-bright, Such as Creation's dawn beheld them beam. In changeless orbits hold their ceaseless race Eor endless ages, over boundless space ! HESPEEIA. 135 XL IV. Amid those countless systems, what is man ? A microscopic insect foul and fierce ; And yet his eye and intellect can scan Those glorious orbs, whose moments are his years, Their size, weight, speed, and figure, gauge and span. And half the mystery of their movements pierce ; In reason, mind, thought, power, how like a God, In sin a crawling reptile of the clod ! XLV. A mass of shifting atoms, — whereof one Is born each moment, and each moment dies. As matter into life by motion won. On its career, bright, brief, resistless, flies ; Or motion's mystery ceasing, as begun, (Save in effect untraced by mortal eyes,) Sinks, putrid, stagnant, cold its loveliest forms. To soar or crawl again in flies or worms ! 136 HESPEEIA. XLVI. By ceaseless motion all that is exists, Ttoough ceaseless motion all existence dies ; Motion alone eternally subsists, Ruling the sun and stars, and sea and skies, Self-moved, in moving matter it persists, And changing all, unchanged, man's thought defies: Space but a point, eternity an hour, To that Almighty, Everlasting Power! XLVII . Among those spheres Man hopes to find his rest, ' Yet sinks beneath his appetite's control : Dreams of perpetual rapture with the blest, While swilling brutishly from Circe's bowl : A strange compound of Nature's worst and best, The body of a beast, — an angel's soul, — Which less than instinct, more than reason, wields. For glory struggles, and to impulse yields ! HESPEEIA. 137 XLVIII. He reads earth, air, and ocean's certain laws, Yet acts as if he swayed the world at wiU : Traces creation up to one fixed cause, But no self-knowledge gains from all his skill : Slave of his slaves ! — by passion's starts and flaws Forever driven, though panting to be stUl ; And when some weary nerve with anguish jars, Calling God's vengeance down upon the stars ! XLIX. Fond Superstition ! who escapes thy power ? The sceptic, while renouncing creed and prayer, Builds a false faith on some predestined hour. Or trusts in some protecting planet's care ; The future sees in a prophetic flower. Or hears in sounds, from spirits of the air. Even I, thus left in dark despair to pine. Ask of thy Star an omen and a sign ! 138 HESPERIA. L. Beyond Vermont's green hills, against the skies, 'Mid light clouds floating in the deepest blue, New-Hampshire's distant, snow-clad mountains rise, Lofty, distinct, and palpable to view : HUl, dale, brook, forest, lake, or la^vn supplies The lo-vely landscape with a dififerent hue. Sunset and moonlight lending each their ray. As into twilight melts the closing day. LI. The moon is high ! how well her cahn, cold beams Light Art and Nature's desert wilds and walls ! Whether on Alpine heights her lustre gleams. Or on the plundered Colosseum falls. The chosen star of ruins still she seems : " In all she hides or shows — obscures — recalls — Oblivion, memory, and fancy blend As on the partial pages of a friend. HESPEEIA. 139 LII. Mark where tlie avalanche's track lies waste," How Hke the fatal levin-bolt it fell ! From yon deserted hut, in frenzied haste, Bushed forth its inmates — there no more to dwell : The one safe spot they leave, of death to taste, Led by blind human Prudence ! — Who can tell When, where, or how destruction's bolt will strike. Since ambushed Nemesis dooms all alike ? LIII. Fate ! Destiny ! Necessity ! Stern, mute, Dread, passionless Divinity ! whose sway Immovable, unsearchable, the brute, Men, devils, saints, earth, heaven, and hell obey • None can o'ertake thee, none from thy pursuit. Stars, spk'its, angels, seraphs, flee away ; Great Alpha and Omega, Law of laws, Eternal Circle of effect and cause ! 140 HESPEEIA. LI V. Thou who ne'er changest a decree once made, Wto never heeded tears, or prayers, or sighs ; To whom no vows or offerings are paid, For whom nor altar fane or incense rise : Thou who beholdest states and empires fade, And suns and systems, with the same cold eyes That first beheld their fixed, predestined doom. Long ere the universe was in its womb ! L V. Whose oracles no prophet ever saw. Nor sage nor seer revealed, — o'er grief and crime, Evil and good, virtue and vice, whose law Resistless reigns, unsearchable, sublime, From all eternity inspiring awe. And to outlive the Universe and Time ! Thou mystery of mysteries, to Thee How all things tend, when most they strive to flee ! '' HESPEEIA. 141 LVI. Whom it were weak to praise, and vain to blame, Useless to seek or scan — accuse — defend, Through spa;ce and ages all unmoved, the same, Whom none can make their foe, and none their friend ; Whose holt none ever traced to whence it came. And none shall ever follow to its end : — From earth to heaven we track the lightning's path. But dark alike thy pleasure and thy wrath ! LVII. Whom no one worships, and yet all revere, Whom none profess to follow, none deny, Who leav'st no room for love or hope or fear, Above all thought immeasurably high ; Thy slightest whisper striking on the ear Louder than all the thunders of the sky. Through ages upon ages rolling on, To ages yet to come when those are gone. 142 HESPEKIA. LVIII. How man, vain man, has sought to read thy will, With all its sequences of bliss and woe, Purblindly seeking it, with baffled skill, In stars above, and history below; Still guessing ever, although guessing ill. And learning only. Thou wouldst have it so, In whose eternal and all-powerful hand Myriads of worlds are but as grains of sand. LIX. And yet our little knowledge feels full well Thy ceaseless, boundless, never-varying rule ; Howe'er vaingloriously with pride we swell, As though 't were better be a self-willed fool, Than humble bondsman, merely taught to spell Wisdom's submissive lesson in thy school : That thou alone art Wise, Just, First and Last, — And naught beyond thy power — except the Past ! '* HESPEKIA. 143 LX. The Past ! the Past ! the unreturning Past, Evil or good, is all beyond thy force, And when for men or worlds the die is cast, Even thou art helpless to recall its course : Wliat matters it ? The stream, however fast. Could it indeed flow backwards to its source, Through all the self-same scenes again must run, "With more than all the exactoess of the Sun ! LXI. Thee, therefore, I implore not — neither brave, Most calm, inscrutable ! whate'er thou art, I meet my doom, and neither shun nor crave Thought, word, nor deed past my allotted part : Thou mad'st me what I am, an humble slave. And what thou gav'st is here — a passive heart ! To me, past, present, future, are the same. Fragments (£ Fate, that differ but in name ! 144 HESPEEIA. LXII. And yet it is a deep and solemn thought, For mortal man, that nothing is in vain : From all he felt and suffered, shunned or sought, Reaches an endless, all-pervading chain, And, dyed with every act and word and thought, Infinitude — Eternity remain ! That which is done, is done, and, good or ill, Throughout all time its mission must fulfil. LXIII. This living lyre, whose thousand strings ajar. Grating harsh discord, shriek and crash and groan. This will and power evermore at war, — This thirst to know what never can be known, — This reason soaring past the farthest star, And blindly stumbling o'er the smallest stone, — This obstinate self-wiU that beats its breast Against its prison-bars and knows no rest ; — HESPERIA. 145 LXIV. This sensual body and this subtile spirit, These endless longings, and this ceaseless strife, — These hopes by Faith or Penitence to merit, For momentary ills, Eternal Life, — These bonds of Circumstance that all inherit, — This fond belief with which the world is rife, That act, thought, motive, with ourselves begin. And wish and power to sin or not to sin ; — LXV. All these, though transitory as a breath. Produce their consequence, however small : Atoms of causes ! — yet defying death, Outliving Time and Thought, pervading all ! The Universe, throughout its length and width. Feels their effect forever, past recall ! 'Tis well Almighty goodness, power, and skill " Shapes all our ends, rough hew them as we will ! "' 7 J 146 HESPERIA. LXVI. There is a cave, New Haven, in thy rock,'* The refuge once of free, bold, ruthless men. Whose sentence brought a monarch to the block : Wlio may absolve them ? "Who will all condemn ? Even courtly levity in vain would mock, To see the zealots, hunted to this den. Inscribe their creed upon the stone they trod, ' War against Tyrants is the Will of God ! ' • LX VII. How bore they in this solitude quick thought'^ And all the hideous spectres of the past ? The retrospect of deeds in passion wrought. Whose very ghosts our calmer vision blast, — Vain hopes, — - day-dreams through kindred slaughter sought, A.nd that ungrateful Commonwealth at last, Whose fickle crowd to Charles would bend the knee, Unfit for slaves, — unable to be free ! '' HESPEKIA. Ii7 LXVIII. I kiiow not, — great and glorious were the deeds, Fearful the crimes, of that same iron band, Of various sects and parties, ranks and creeds. Wishes and ends and aims, at whose command The victim- King, culprit or martyr, bleeds, — Far scattered afterwards in many a land, To close in penance years begun in strife, Waging a stubborn war with Sin and Life ! LXIX. Years since I saw their cave, my bosom swelled O'er other relics, by a distant shore, Of their companions, — conquered but not quelled ; — For Ludlow's house and tomb, and Broughton's, bore. By Leman's lake of beauty, words that held The spirit spellbound to its inmost core: Brief was the text, — the gloss might fill a tome, — " Li every clime the brave may find a home ! " ^* 148' IIESPERIA. LXX. Strange fate of men and realms ! — the rise and fall Of that brief Commonwealth, so sternly made, Hung upon him, who, towering above all, With sceptred truncheon Europe's balance swayed. Usurper and Protector ; — yet how small The seeming chance that Cromwell's flight delayed ; Had he, self-banished, the Atlantic crossed," Albion her freedom ne'er had won or lost ! LXXI. Never did skill with fortune so agree. Zeal with hypocrisy so strive, so blend. As in that soul whose crafty mystery Hid from itself the means that shaped its end : To his doomed day of triple victory, His soldiers well prophetic faith might lend ; Csesar — Napoleon — taught, and then believed, Like omens, — first deceiving, then deceived. HESPEEIA. U9 LXXII. East Haddam's Mount ! where vague portentous sound,* Wild scenes, strange sights, and wondrous tales combine To chain the eye and ear, as, gazing round. Men wait with dread some proof of wrath divine, While with fear's ague shakes the shuddering ground, As if Opitche-Manitou supine, Beneath the mountain mass the white man trod, Writhed in the presence of the stranger's God ! LXXIII. Pure, tranquil lake of- KiUingly, all hail ! Sweetly thou sleep'st in placid Night's high noon ; Thy mirrored sky untroubled by a sail, Her starry tide lit by a cloudless moon ; Such vigils make a monarch's revels pale : And thou, lone islet of the moaning loon ! How innocence and peace still haunt thine air ! Does the Grood Squaw's kind spirit linger there ? 150 HESPERIA. LXXI V. The sea-breeze sighs ! it is the breath of heaven, Cooling the fevered heart and throbbing brain, Which, like the wild ^olian harp of Even, Return imagination's fitful strain : For verse and music unto mortals given. Enchanting soothers of each earth-bom pain, Are only Nature's echoes, — soul and lyre But the mere strings or voices of her choir ! ^^ LXX V. Mysterious rock of Dighton ! ^ Time has flung The night of darkness on thy sculptured page ; The dying accents of an unknown tongue, All uninterpreted by seer or sage : The trophies of what hero yet unsung, The strange memorials of what race, what age. Who roamed the wilderness or crossed the deep. In thine inscrutable inscription sleep ? HESPEEIA. 151 LXXVI. And whose was that grim skeleton, arrayed In hrass, with brazen weapons by his side,^' Long since by faithful, sorrowing warriors laid Near to Fall-River's clear and placid tide? Now Hke Palenque's shrines again displayed, World-wondered monuments of baffled pride. Reared by vain mortals to their idol. Fame, — Ungrateful Goddess ! who forgets their name ! LXXVII. Ocean ! I gaze upon thy waves once more, The flitting sail, long wake, and drifting rack ; And as I list thy bUlows' hollow roar. Imagination travels ages back, Even to the day when on this frozen shore, In their frail pinnace, by an unknown track. Our ancestors arriving, lapded here. And gave to Heaven their thanks. — to home a tear 152 HESPEEIA. LXXVIII. When first descending on this desert strand, Plymouth ! thy rock the Pilgrim Fathers trod. They sought for freedom in a savage land, Faith their sole wealth, their only hope in God ! And well did they deserve his outstretched hand Should be to them a staff, their foes a rod ; Of exiles who have founded states, how few Brought hearts and lives as holy, good, and true ! LXXIX. With the same fiery zeal they preached and prayed. Fasted, " and smote the heathen that he died ; " Waged against witch and wizard fierce crusade ; Salvation to all other creeds denied ; Invoked the God of Battles to their aid, Full weU assured they fought upon his side ; And won from wearied Heaven, with hearts that bled. One solemn revelation from the dead ! "* HESPEEIA. 153 LXXX. The fervor of their faith their deeds attest, And self-denying centuries of pi-ayer ; The progress of their country tells the rest. Mark what they are, remember what they were : From a harsh soil and climate see them wrest, With stubborn industry and ceaseless care. The elements of riches, knowledge, power, Commerce their heritage, the sea their dower. LXXXI. Commerce ! great civilizer of mankind, Uniting those unfathomed ocean parts, Thou true supporter of the flight of mind. Ally of agriculture and the arts ! Nations by thee are polished and refined, Gaining at once sound heads and liberal hearts : Earth still finds worthy of their high renown Her merchant princes, though they wore no crown. 7* 154 HESPERIA. LXXXII. Cosmo, called jpater patrice of old, — Lorenzo the Magnificent, — and they Who lent to Britain's King more sacks of gold Than even his royal revenues could pay, — Did they not merit well the place they hold On History's page ? Look on their works, and say ! For picture, statue, manuscript, and gem, How many ages are in debt to them ? LXXXIII. And thou, brave Marco Polo, who explored Regions unknown to Christendom till then, Whose people even Commerce and the Sword, Those mighty teachers, have not yet made men. Though both for centuries their light have poured To vindicate at last thy honest pen, — Reaping such harvest from the plundered East That all men's wonder at thy millions ceased. HESPEEIA. 155 L X X X I V. Forerunner of discovery's career, Vasco, Columbus, and Vespucci's sire, Hesperia well may hold thy memory dear. Whose name, like theirs, should stir the epic lyre. Were there a soul in either hemisphere That held a spark of Homer's sacred fire. But ah ! for mortals 't is no light emprise To wake a lay like his, that never dies ! LXXXV. Commerce ! not brief, though glorious, is thy reign ; Who call thy sceptre fleeting do thee wrong ; Thine is a realm as boundless as the main, A sway as endless, and a power as strong : Thy seats thou changest, and will change again ; With the unjust thou canst not tarry long. And hence, by Despots or by Mobs opprest, Thy flight has ever been from East to West. lo6 HESPEEIA. LXXX VI. Nor were there wanting here, in days of yore, Some fearful visitors, — grim iron bands. Friends of the Sea, and foes to all it bore, — Men of hard hearts, loose Uves, and bloody hands ; Such were the pirate crews that sought thy shore, Wellfleet, and strewed their bodies on thy sands : Still, near the shoals whereon they found a grave, Wrecks of their bark are seen beneath the wave. LXXXVII. And ever and anon, from year to year, Did a strange figure haunt that fatal scene, To vanish hke a thing of guilt and fear, None knowing who or what the man had been : Save that to godly words he lent no ear, An impious sinner of most frightful mien, Who from his fellows' fate escaped, 'twas thought. And portions of their hidden treasure sought. HESPERIA. 157 LXXXVIII. At Saugus, in a rocky glen profound,^ 'T is said, he looked for shelter and repose ; But even there God's vengeance shook the ground, And vast earth-sundered rocks the cavern close ; The terror-stricken countiy heard the sound As on the air his shriek of horror rose, And the rent ruins of that mountain dell Are named with terror still — The Pirate's Cell ! LXXXIX. When Manshope, the sage enchanter, flung From his huge Indian pipe an ashy shower,* And forth from Ocean's bed Nantucket sprung To be the daughter of Hiwassee's dower. Little he thought its sceptre would be wrung. By fish-fed mortals, from his giant power. Still less, that they would match his wondrous tales. And quite eclipse the boasted feast of whales ! 158 HESPEEIA. XC. Thou, too, New Bedford, must not want a verse, '^ Mother of daring men that rove the deep ! Their dangers and their toils let Burke rehearse, Patience and vigilance that never sleep : All share the common weal, and each reverse. With common toil, a common harvest reap. And from tempestuous seas and sterile land Construct the best Utopia ever planned ! XCI. So spring up empires ! founded in the thirst Of independence, by a few brave men : In hardship, poverty, and danger nurst, They struggle first for Life and Freedom, — then, For Power and Glory, — with their wishes curst. Come Luxury and Corruption, — and agen From these. Vice, Cowardice, — and last and worst. Baseness and Tyranny, beneath whose blight Rome, Carthage, Greece, Tyre, Sidon, sink in night ! HESPEKIA. 159 XCII. But what are states and kingdoms to the heart That is its own sad place, — and day by day, Through hopeless wounds, given with a poisoned dart, By all deserted, slowly bleeds away : Living, if such be life, from life apart, Shunning the gloom of night, and glare of day, Conscious its agonies can never close Until the grave brings change, if not repose ! XCIII. Never ! no, never ! Words of flaming fire,^ Who dares to utter them, and thus foretell The death of Hope ! foredooming us in ire To dull Despair's soul-petrifying cell ? Are not our woes enough the heavens to tire ? Why freeze the mind with such prophetic spell ? Who, that could deem such fatal warning sooth. Would drag his tortured life to age from youth ? 160 HESPEKIA. XCIV. The heart has still its mysteries : few know The workings of their own — and none reveal : Who dare betray the depth of joy and woe, Evil and good, he has been doomed to feel ? His prison-house's dreadful secrets show, — Tortures, beneath whose shock our senses reel, And reason totters, — hours that blighted years. Moments of crime, cycles of pain and tears ! XCV. Yes, there are thoughts that should be given no tongue, For what avails their story ? Who hath been By passion's inward struggle fiercely wrung, Or felt the throb of anguish deep and keen. And knows not that such themes are never sung ? Nay, that such struggles are but rarely seen ? Like blood, even that which men deem justly spilt. Such conflicts leave a stain of shame or guilt ! HESPERIA. 161 XCVI. There are strange truths that bear not to be told, Aj, stranger far than Fancy's wildest dream : The tale that each could of himself unfold, To others most incredible would seem, As theirs to him ; for all are prone to mould Belief by their experience, and we deem This our infallible and only guide To man's dim wisdom, scorning all beside. XCVII. But He who made this complicated, strange. And twofold nature, — He alone can tell Why thus on earth it should be doomed to range Between the verge of heaven and of hell. Forever changing, — He who knows no change Alone can comprehend its fall, and swell Its aspirations, glorious and sublime. Temptations, trials, weakness, blindness, crime. 162 HESPEEIA. XCVIII. To Him it must be left, and He will weigh Our faults with our misfortunes in so just A scale, that even the condemned will say Their merits on the balance were but dust : None, none, shall be found guiltless in that day, Yet in his mercy they who seek may trust : Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right, He who bade light to be, and there was light ? XCIX. And if, meanwhile, inscrutable and dark His Providence appears to our dull eyes. How often in the past may we remark The simple chosen to confound the wise ; And if of faith we have but scarce a spark, Creation's wonders speak. Arise, arise ! Measure the East, the Sun, the Stars, the Sky, — "Whence came they ? how ? who made them ? when ? and why ? HESPEEIA. 163 C. Though these are but the questions of a child, Angels or prophets must the answer give : "We our own hearts have hardened and defiled Against the God that seeks but to forgive, And therefore we believe not. Calm and mild, He wishes not that we should die, but live. His firm paternal justice kinder far Than soulless Nature's law, — Fatality's fixed star. CI. Mount Auburn ! loveliest city of the dead. No cemetery on earth with thee may vie In native beauty. Wheresoe'er we tread, "Wood, water, rocks, turf, flowers, salute the eye: Afar the ocean's bosom is outspread. And naught distracts our meditations high And holy reveries. Earth and air and wave Are tranquil all, as man's best home, the Grave ! 164 HESPEKIA. CII. What obeEsk arises on yon hill, That overlooks a stately town and bay ? It is a scene to gaze on ! Look thy fill ! Yet temples, islands, shipping, what are they ? All chaiTOS of art and nature, taste and skill, Fail to withdraw us from that column gray : The first great battle-ground our fathers prest. It mai-ks a "Warren's glorious bed of rest ! ® cm. Here in the Bay State's capital I pause, 'Mid objects Time has rendered doubly dear To all that reverence letters, arts, and laws ; With old Faneuil what glorious memories rear™ Their shadowy forms, what pictures fancy draws Of all his heroes ! Cambridge too is near, — Familiar Stewart, Allston, Greenough's fame. And Adams, Otis, Webster, Prescott's name ! HESPEEIA. CANTO IV. Sic ego prospicio ccelestis janitor aulse Eoas partes Hesperiasqne simu]. Ovid. Fast. Ibit ad occasum, qnidquid dicemus ab ortu Testis et Hesperise voois Eous erit : Trans ego tellurum, trans latas andiar undas Et gemitus vox est magna futura mei. Ovid Teist. CANTO FOURTH. LOUISIANA. " Alma non ti lagnar: ma soffri e taci E tempra il doloe amaro, che n' ha ofieso Con dolce onor." Petrarca. I. It is the liour when seamen's fancies dwell On home, and in the traveller's heart arise Fond thoughts of the dear friends he bade farewell, And love's fresh-parted pilgrim starts and sighs, Heart-stricken by the distant vesper-bell, Which seems as if it mourned the day that dies : The Virgin Mother's twilight hour of prayer, Whose spirit fiUs the heavens and earth and air.' 168 HESPEEIA. II. And here — where Aligliieri, copied oft, But still unrivalled, pictured first that hour, Blending its sights and sounds in tones so soft That every heart acknowledges their power, Whether on sea or land, below, aloft. We gaze on it from hill, or mast, or tower — Ave Maria ! still we feel and see "This heavenliest hour of heaven is worthiest ' thee." ^ III. Here, in the land where Tasso loved and raved, — Is not love madness ? — Petrarch sighed and sung, • — The land whose once victorious eagles waved O'er half the world, when Rome was free and young, - The land whose faith men leant on to be saved, — Where in their second birth arts, letters sprung, — In Italy — at Arqua — I resume My voiceless theme — predestined to the tomb ! HESPEEIA. 169 IV. Ay ! in thy native land, — upon whose air Thy breath still rests, thy beauty on its sky, And thine high melancholy everywhere, — The Paradise that only wants thine eye To look on it with mine, and say 't is fair, — The land where 't were not death with thee to die, - In Italy — at Arqua — do I keep My midnight watch to pray for thee and weep ! T. And onward with me still I bear my theme. To Venice — Florence — wheresoe'er I roam. Mingling the past and present Kke a dream, To find in all the thought of thee and home. But while the scenes thou lovest before me beam Their beauties, thou upon the Ocean's foam Art hurried westward, with thy light to cheer Spots hallowed by thy presence there, as here. 8 170 HES.PEBIA. 1, VI. Yet thy shade follows me. I hear thy voice When music breathes in Venice, on the tide Wafted in ghostrlike gondolas, whose noise Wakes not the slumbering waves o'er which they glide. Whatever moved thy spirit to rejoice. Or roused, or soothed its sorrow, love, or pride. The peak of Fiesold — Ferrara's cell — Egeria's grot — becomes thine oracle. VII. But 'tis in Rome, the city of the dead. The empress of both worlds, whose boundless sway Not only gives us back long ages fled, But promises her faithful endless day, — 'T is most of all in Rome my heart has bled, O'er all I saw thee look, or heard thee say, Since like a heavenly revelation first Thy loveliness upon my senses burst. HESPEKIA. 171 VIII. Ten years ago — upon this night, this hour — We met, — I need not tell thee when nor how ; Still less upon my lot that meeting's power : Are not its records written on my brow ? But the spell closes ; — henceforth I devour My heart in silence ; — all is over now, Till the clasped book Time seals and blots or sears AU earthly cherished memories, — ev'n those years ! IX. 'T was in the World called New that meeting ; — here We part upon the Old World's throne and tomb, Since Fate will have it so ! — the eyes' last tear, What is it added to thy ruins, Rome ? So be it then ! — ■ henceforward hope or fear. Or object, life has none — save endless gloom ; Word, wish, or prayer were merely waste of breath, — I have but one friend left to look for — Death! 172 HESPEEIA. He whom men shrink from till their worst despair, And deem a fiend that sin and hell must own, To me appears a more than mortal fair. Like Buonarotti's Night transferred from stone To canvas by Vasari. On the air (All else is ruined save the head alone) Her lips and eyes shed quiet, though they close. And seem the type of man's last, best repose ! XI. If, when at length, upon her calm, cold breast. My grief-worn heart and brain their throbbing cease, And weary life has sobbed itself to rest, Finding with her what Earth denied it — Peace, — If then thou read'st these lines, they will attest. What ev'n despondency could not deci-ease. Nor chance, nor change, nor time, nor distance move. And Death alone extinguish — Hopeless Love ! HESPEEIA. 173 XII. My Italy ! although of thine not born, Nor worthy mine own land's maternal breast, Thy child in heart I am, — nor wilt thou scorn One by thy love, though not thy genius, blest: Ay, Mother of my Soul ! at whose behest My life's high enterprise was first begun. If in thy cause my arms may not be blest, My zeal at least is worthy of thy son ! XIII. Absolve me, then ! — thou art betrayed and shghted. Wronged and despised, and chained and scourged, — thy state Moves rage and tears. — Nor be mine wholly slighted. For henceforth evermore unto thy fate My soul, in grief and sympathy united, Vows to thy tyrants an immortal hate.^ But on such theme there is no word, no thought. Like those that generous ire to Filicaja taught. 174 HESPEKIA. XIV. Where 's thine own arm, Italia ? what avails thee That scourge a stranger's sword ? — the worst of woes, Alike the slave that guards thee, and assails thee. Both were thy servants once, — both are thy foes: Gird up thy loins ! the world, that now bewails thee. Would glory in thy freedom and repose ! * Tune will find souls fit for the high emprise ; Greece has half risen, — shall not Rome arise ? XV. Watch and be silent ! Banish fraud and fear And feud', — as one in tongue, be one in mind : When your wives whisper in their children's ear. Be it the word that on the passing wind. And in their dreams, your trembling Tyrants hear. But elsewhere let that name no utterance find, Till Italy ! bursts forth from every heart, ^ And Apennine and Alp at their own echoes start ! HESPEEIA. 175 XVI. Slaves still are slaves while raging to be free ; ' True desperation has a quiet tone ; Loud words show little love of Liberty, And plots and curses shake no despot's throne : Trust not in Princes ! — native though they be - Redemption lies in your right hands alone ; Nor by rash struggle double all your pains, — 'T is the collected effort rends your .chains ! XVII. Wait, but be ready ! — when the dogs of war Are slipped, again to raven, waste, and slay, For something, nothing, 'twill be easier far To scare the Bear and Eagle from their prey: When next ye hear the elemental jar. Life, Freedom, Glory, Death, are in the fray ; Two Principles, like Genii, hurl their fire — Evil and Good — till one or both expire ! ^ 176 HESPERIA. XVIII. Britain and France — who doubts it ? — side by side Together in that quarrel will be found : And never were more glorious realms allied Upon a higher or a hoher ground : O that it were my own Columbia's pride In that one foreign war her trump to sound ! If- her Discoverer's country she could lift To light and life, it were the Roman daughter's gift. XIX. Would I were deemed deserving to breathe forth My spirit in that strife — beneath that sky ! 'Twere a poor gift, a life so little worth; And yet, raethinlts, should a barbarian die To prove "all is not evil from the North,'" His memory might claim Ausonia's sigh ; She, surely, or some daughter of her race. Might give a flower to deck his resting-place. HESPERIA. 177 XX. Till then my restless, idly-busy brain Wanders to distant scenes and days of yore ; Dim visions of lost joy recalls again, "With houTS that last not, and return no more ; All that was felt, concealed, retraced in vain, — Leaving my life a wreck upon the shore, To perish in the sand of some lone bay, By slow and sure, but unobserved decay. XXI. We journeyed once — thou canst not have forgot - Together to the lonely western wild, Together visited a lovely spot, Thy once familiar haunt while yet a chUd, — Thy father's mansion, and thy nurse's cot, — And found our way with many a tale beguiled Of savage cruelty and border war. While Hesper faintly gleamed through blood afar. 178 HESPERIA. XXII. We parted at a station that had been An ancient fort, well known in deadly strife, Of many a dark and daring deed the scene, Where often met, to part no more in life. The hunter with his rifle quick and keen, And the red warrior with his bow and knife. Far other sights and sounds on earth and air Met me as once again I wandered there. X XIII. A shadowy pair, beneath the moon's pale light. In fixed, immovable emotion stand, Both tall — and she in beauty like the Night Seems formed man's love and worship to command : They gaze on those pure worlds, so cahn, so bright. As if despondingly, — she lifts her hand And says, in sweet, low murmur, " That 's my star ; Look on 't and think of me where'er you are." HESPERIA. 179 XXIV. That hand he clasps and presses to his heart, With all the fervency of mute despair ; Before the coming morrow's dawn they part, Each on their several way — I know not where : Fain would I, if I could, by magic art Trace out the further fortunes of that pair ; But all the rest is doubtful, dark, or dim. And thus much only known of her or him. XXV Toward the South, at one day's journey thence. Next night he slept, or rather feigned to sleep ; In yon low farm-house, with the rustic fence, Did the sad pilgrim his lone vigil keep : Little he spoke or ate, upon pretence Of weariness ; but no kind slumbers steep His senses in oblivion, for they found With morn a scroll he dropt upon the ground, — 180 HESPEEIA. XXVI. And afterwards — long, long it was — I' saw, Shown me by one who may have been his friend. But did not name him, rhymes from w^hich I draw Conclusions, fanciful perhaps, that tend Toward a scene recalled ev'n now with awe. And 't is my fixed belief the lines were penned By him for her. But if ye list to read. Here is his verse, — ■ shape ye therefrom your creed ! ^ XXVII. 'T is an old tale, and Time approves its truth. By all I ever heard or read in story, The course of love did never yet run smooth ; But eitlier it was crossed by parents hoary, Deaf always to the tears and prayers of youth, — ■ Severed by falsehood or imperious glory, — By absence, death, or chance or change or time, — As many a tale attests in many a clime. HESPEEIA. 181 XXVIII. Here, where I write, love's legendary lore Has hallowed every venerable pile, And countless tender memories of yore Cling to each feudal tower and Gothic aisle : Florence! though all thy glories were no more. The maiden and the lover's tear and smile Thy name to after ages might hand down With something dearer yet than high renown ! XXIX. Florence, dear Florence ! lovely to my eyes Above all other cities e'en more fair, To me there is enchantment in thy skies, And in thy mountains' hues, and in thine air ; Thy sun and moon more brightly set and rise. Thy nights are sweeter than the days elsewhere ; Beauty is thine, in Nature and in Art, And in a thousand ways thou fiU'st the heart ! 182 HESPEEIA. XXX. Thine urns are many, boundless, unexcelled, Pouring out deep emotions in a tide Like Arno's when by mountain torrent swelled ; Love, Grief, Rage, Pity, Hate, Eevenge, and Pride Burst forth in turn, as the full soul 's impelled By memories that rise on every side, Eecalled by breathing statues, — deathless strains, — Virtue and Crime, — past Freedom and fresh chains ! XXXI. Witness Capponi's palace ! — an old name. For noble deeds long famed in days gone by. While Florence yet was free and brave, and Fame Flashed its meridian splendor on her sky: One of the few not yet brought down to shame By some degenerate bearer ; for on high, -For learning and for virtue known, it stands. Not only here, but e'en in foreign lands. HESPEEIA. 183 XSXII. I trod its ample stairs and lofty halls, Vast suites of stately chambers rich and rare, And saw upon its portrait-pictured walls Warriors and priests and statesmen — such they were - Whose very frown looks Freedom, as it falls On those to whom that word is now but air. Though gate and palace still, on shield or stone, Bear " Libertas " awry, as half o'erthrown. XXXIII. Pietro's moved me much, — and most of all The storied tablet that one deed records : 'T was when the French King's army held in thrall Beleaguered Florence, and her gravest lords, Pietro at their head, for the recall Of hostile forces plighting mutual words. Received the monarch's faith that strife should cease, On pacts that lacked but signing to be Peace. 184 HESPERIA. XXXIV. Charles basely paltered, and would fain impose Other and harder terms ; and when he found The envoys resolutely bent on those, " If you delay," he cried, " my trumpets sound." Forth strode Ca.pponi then, amidst his foes, Tearing the scroll, he dashed it on the ground, And to the King, with gesture fierce and high. Said, " To your trumpets ! — to my tocsin I ! " XXXV. The treaty was subscribed, — and since that day Do the Capponi speak of it with pride. And quote Pietro's words, as well they may, For they might stand with Sparta's side by side, Nor shrink from the comparison. The ray That shines in both, though centuries divide, From the same Deity divinely sprung, And spoke the same laconic strength of tongue. HESPEEIA. 185 XXXVI. And other memories and objects yet, Worthy of note, the curious there may find, — Some that ahnost defy you to forget. Though of a different and a sadder kind : The unpressed nuptial couch, witli tears once wet By the bereaved betrothed, recalls to mind The love and sorrow consecrated here, When marriage garland strevped the bridegroom's bier. XXXVII. Through a long range of gorgeous rooms you stray, Decked for a bridal centuries ago. The groom Capponi's heir, — the wedding-day Arrived, — to all, alas ! a day of woe : From Love by Death untimely torn away, He perished, — and, untouched, these chambers show Rich, sad memorials, through long ages kept. Of him whose kindred and bride-widow wept. 186 HESPEEIA. XXXVIII. Huge antique chairs, fantastically wrought With needlework on satin, — fringe of gold, Full two palms deep, — tables and mirrors fraught With costly ornaments ; and many a fold Of crimson velvet, from rich Genoa brought. Curtained each door and window, and then rolled Upon the floor, in wild profusion spread, — A pall that mocked the luxury of the dead ! XXXIX. Thus, too, the nuptial couch itself was hung. And thus, too, covered. Even the walls were draped With velvet or with satin, — gold was flung O'er all by ancient artists, deftly shaped For use or show, — huge, brilliant lustres sprung On every side, — and when the eye escaped With dazzled wonder-weary glance from them, It fell on picture, statue, vase, and gem. HESPERIA. 187 XL. Yet, amidst all, my thoughts were most of her, The virgin-wife and rehct of the dead. What was her fate ? — And yet why need we stir Time's ashes ? It may be her senses fled ; No further evil then might she incur. Perhaps in after years again she wed, — Perhaps kind Death came soon to her relief, — No matter grief o'ercame her, or she grief. XLI. There are worse ills! whom the gods love die soon. Ere their first hopes are fatally betrayed ; Before a change comes o'er the fickle moon Of human fancy, — or despair's dai'k shade. Absence, or mutual wrong make' death a boon, To the most wretched ever most delayed : — • Ne'er may Capponi's lovely daughters .know, That life, not death, is oft the worst of woe ! 188 HESPEBIA. XLII. Farewell Capponi's palace and its lord, Whose noble heart is wholly what it seems, A worthy shrine of that all-conquering word That nightly haunts each true Itahan's dreams : Name of the Mountain Nymph, now rarely heard, Though with her sacred fire Ausonia teems, — The sigh of ages ! — Dante's, Petbaech's prayer, - Who could endure the earth were she not there ! XLIII. And yet, alas ! how few on earth desire, How fewer still deserve, her cup to drink, A holy sacrament for love or ire, As it is taken ! Let the unworthy shrink ! France will attest how deep in" blood and mire, Down to perdition's lowest depths, they sink. While with her Roland all the virtuous ciy, " Freedom ! what crimes thy holy cause beUe ! " HESPEEIA. 189 XLIV. Are these thy triumphs, Freedom? the wild roar Of savage men, fiercer than beasts of prey, Yelling " Feateenitt " from shore to shore, And dealing death on all that don't obey ? Her head in glory and her feet in gore. Onward the Great Eepublic holds her way, TUl ape and tiger Demus crouches down Before incarnate Molocli's iron crown ! XLV. O Freedom ! Freedom ! worshipped but in name By the insensate crowd that know thee not; Whose very souls, as conscious whence they came. Earth of the earth, in slime creep, revel, rot ; Slaves of opinion, custom, power, or fame, — Behold one votary thou hast forgot ! Or, worse, contemned, as if thy foeman bom. Because lip-worshippers he held in scorn. 190 HESPERIA. XL VI. Yet has he always owned thy faith and sign, — Before strange Gods he has not bowed the Imee ; Holding thee, Freedom, truly more divine Than all the Heaven of old mythology. His heart was ever deeply, warmly thine, And one perhaps not all unworthy thee : There thou and Truth alone have been enshrined. The noblest household deities of mind. XL VII. But thou dost shun him, Freedom, though he spurns His enemies and thine with all his soul : Ay, thou dost mock him, Freedom, though he burns To burst from all subjection and control, And sweetly smil'st and calmly frown'st by turns. As if more won by half-warm zeal than whole, Or else unable or averse to learn From flatterers a lover to discern. HESPERIA. 191 XL VIII. Where art thou, Goddess? Men do prate thy praise As if this were thy chosen age and clime ; But what are they, the freemen of these days ? Their reptile Gods would shame old Egypt's slime. To such they turn from Truth and Honor's gaze, Licking the dust of Circumstance and Time, — As Asiatics ahject, — and the while As false as base, and as corrupt as vile. XLIX. Nay, worse ! the slaves of interest, — bondsmen sworn Of Avarice or Ambition, Pomp or Pride, Fashion or Vanity, whose smiles are worn. Even as their words are coined, their thoughts to hide ; And now by Hatred, now by Envy torn, To every mean, malignant vice allied : Not only unabashed, but proud to wear A badge of infamy if new and rare. 192 HESPERIA. L. They do abase their spirits to the crowd, Cringe, flatter, fawn, traduce, recant, deny, Falsehood and craft in fair professions shroud, And while they sound thy praises to the sky. Unto the moment's pageant cry aloud. And make themselves the echo of a lie. As Superstition, Fear, or Faction lead, Or Gain or Hope or Malice shapes their creed. LI. Ay ! all the earth are slaves ! whom call we free ? Each bends before some favorite idol's shrine : Misers make gold their only deity, And in the midst of riches trembling pine, As though their lives' whole purpose was to be The starved and tattered slaves of Mammon's mine, - Slaves of the ore they dig and dai"e not use. Panting to win, convulsed with fear to lose. HESPERIA. 193 LII. And what are they, those grave and learned fools, Whose zeal no studies, cares, or labors damp. Versed in the musty lore of senseless schools. That only serves their faculties to cramp. The very slaves of their own cumbrous tools, — Slaves, by their own confession, of the lamp. That lends their manuscripts its smell and taste, And o'er their midnight vigils runs to waste. LIU. And still more wretched, — what are they who feign To smile, although they hourly feel the sting Of wedded misery in heart and brain, — To whom no power but one rehef can bring From years like centuries of disgust and pain, — What are they ? Vassals of the mystic ring ! Alas ! for such — the curse of one short word. Tongue hath not uttered it, nor ear hath heard ! 9 M 194: HESPEEIA. LIV. And of Caprice's far worst slaves the slave, False woman's fond adorers, — what are they ? Who for a look their soul's best birthright gave. As though kind beauty never could betray, Or female truth e'er yet survive the grave, Or Love or Friendship ever shunned decay, — Love's serfs, — what are they, who need only choose To cast their fetters off, and yet refuse ? L V. Thus universal bondage breeds deceit, And with deceit comes every limping sin ; Yet all being false, none can the other cheat, And hence they end even as they did begin, — For treachery doth treachery defeat. And knavery and lies are all they win : Fit retribution ! thus far Satan 's just, None are deceived by him but those that trust ! HESPEEIA. 195 LVI. And these are Men ! — and this they call the World, ■ Unto whose flat I my soul must bow, Nor even dare to let a lip be curled. Much less betray defiance on my brow : No ! to all such my gage was long since hurled, And never yet recalled, nor will be now ; ^ By boyhood's earliest lesson I abide, " Better to stand alone in conscious pride ! " L VII. No, Freedom, no ! I '11 seek thee on the wave, Or mountain-peaks that seem the Heavens to kiss. In the dark forest or the hermit's cave. Through sandy wastes, in ocean's dark abyss. Nay in the dungeon's depths or in the grave. Before I '11 bear a slavery like this ! Time to my horoscope, the month — the year That saw me born to Liberty was dear. 196 HESPEEIA. LVII I. Beside the Gulfs scarce-ebbing tepid waves, On Pascagoula's beach of shells and sand, Which the far-travelled stream of Ocean laves, A new Saguntum stood, where now I stand ; Here the Biloxi, scorning to be slaves, Their own heroic death in secret planned, With song and music to the deep went down. Zealots of Freedom, — martyrs to Kenown ! '■" LIX. The Ocean, not unmindful even yet. Seems with her tears of spray their fate to weep ; Nor doth the kindred Moon their shades forget, But calmly smiles enamored on their sleep : And then, at hours when certain stars have met. And coral nymphs their solemn vigils keep, Sweet, sad ^olian strains of grief and wail Burst from unearthly lips, and die upon the gale ! HESPEKIA. 197 LX. Biloxi, Pascagoula, and thy bay, Holy St. Louis ! best of sainted kings, To memory rise witli hours that fled away, Beside your quiet shores, on dovelike wings ; Even like yourselves obscure, my humble lay No fame to grace your groves and gardens brings, Yet, though unknown, unsung, ye have a shrine, Not in my heart alone, but one more worth than mine LXI. Daughter of her, whose Virgin warrior led The chivalry of France in glorious flght. Roused a luxurious monarch from his bed Of sloth, and taught him to defend his right, Baffled proud Albion's power, and on his head Placed a firm crown to Talbot's high despite, — The Crescent City well her birth avows, Her country, mother, name, descent, and spouse. 198 HESPEBIA. LXII. Might she not too of siege and battle boast, And those, who from her plunder half attained Drove back Iberia's victors from her coast, Losing the name they had so hardly gained, No more " Invincible," — a conquered host, — Glad to escape with laurels worse than stained From him, the Man of Orleans, whose star. Baleful in Peace, gave glorious light to "War. LXIII. Yet shall no grudging lay the Hero greet. Albeit adulation stuns his ear : The Muse may best accord him praises meet, "Who never stooped to flatter or to fear : Her numbers therefore should be doubly sweet, If they were sounds that he could ever hear ; And though upon a single breath they die, Truth is the same as if a world were by. HESPEEIA. 199 LXIV. Father of Rivers ! standing by thy side, Life's turbid eddies seem but little worth, As Fancy traces thy all-conquering tide To the far-distant regions of the North, And marks how calm and pure its waters glide, Tin on their course Missouri rushes forth. Like the Barbarian on his Roman prey, Leaving behind the stain Time never wears away ! " LXV. Beltrami, when with peril, toU, and pain He trod the wilderness to seek thy spring, And fondly deemed he had the fate to gain. As he beheld thy new-born streamlet fling Its drops in bubbles forth like falling rain, Thought his a triumph worthy of a king, Himself the Bruce of this the Western NUe : — At travellers' vanity how woodsmen snule ! 200 HESPEEIA. LX VI. At thy true sources the red Indian drank, Ay, and the weary hunter quenched his thirst, Nor paused the Naiad of the fount to thank, Nor thought what giant stream might there be nurst. Cradled upon its green and mossy bank, Till from their bed the swelling sources burst. And to earth's mightiest river gathering, flow To greet noon's sun above, — the Mexic gulf below ! LXVII. Thy borders forests and thy stream an ocean,'^ Dark — fathomless — a torrent in its course ; Whirling and boiling, ceaseless in commotion. And its own banks corroding by its force ; Image of those who live by deep emotion, — Victims of love, hope, anger, fear, remorse, And all the fearful passions that consume Man's heart between the cradle and the tomb. HESPERIA. 201 LX VIII. Foul are the tenants of thy waters, — all Amphibious beasts or hideous fish of prey ; And art and nature's perils are not small, That threat the snorting steam-barb on his way : Yet whoso tastes thy tide wLU oft recall The sweetness of that draught some sultry day, Till the incredulous un travelled sneer. And ask you if the stream is always clear ? LXIX. Yet thou too hast thy spots of vernal green, And leagues of villages thy banks to grace ; Where fields of cane, with orange-groves between Embosoming white villas, interlace. Making a bright and happy sylvan scene, Viewed by its very serfs with laughing face, The home of hospitality and ease, Where all alike ai-e pleased, and seek to please. 9* 202 HESPEEIA. LXX. The Hermitage may claim an hour's delay For the old Uon's sake. Behold him there No longer keeping all the chase at bay; Pain mingles with Defiance in his air : A forest king retiring from the fray, Thorwaldsen's noble Lion in his lair, — The wounds both bear attest the hunter's craft, But to the last our hon gnaws the shaft !^' LXXI. Ashland! far other thoughts thy glades awake, Far different strains thy patriot statesman asks ; Though well I know my rhymes will never break The brief, bright leisure of his lofty tasks : And if I name him, 't is but for the sake Of one he praised. His fame her worship masks. And she will laud, if she should see this lay, More eloquently far, the eloquence of Clay ! HESPERIA. 203 LXXII. This night ! — almost three lustres since . . . . 't were vain To add one word, since words can never tell What M'ords have never told, — the joy and pain That in those fourteen years of memory dwell : It were a hfe to live them o'er again ! — ■ Moments of Heaven and centuries of Hell, All that the Moor expressed by "hours of years"" Which leave no record written but in tears. LXXIII. If feeling, thought, and suffering give the gauge Of life, — the measurement of bliss or crime, — Each day of every year has been an age. And I have long outlived the birth of Time. And yet my World is only on this page, Its beings shades, reflected on my rhyme. Bubbles of Earth, that rise and glittering pass Like fleeting images from broken glass. 204 HESPERIA. LXXIV. If the romantic land -whose soil I tread Could give back all its passions — first and last — Awaking from their dust her fiery dead, And with them all the history of the past, No light upon my visions could they shed, No balm upon my wounded spirit cast: For me there is no help, no hope, no cure, I have but to dissemble and endure. LXX V. Those very dead — with whom I 've lived so long That I might lose the living — all combined — Told or untold their fate, in tale or song, Could bring no new emotion to my mind ; All known, and all unknown, of right or wrong. Might come and go, and leave no trace behind. My heart is stagnant, — Life exhausted shrinks. Earth fades, and even the flame ethereal sinks. HESPEEIA. 205 LXXVI. No wonder, then, if I am gray and old, Witliered in heart and brain, and hand and tongue. Bitter and caustic, — absent, selfish, cold. Scornful yet sad, and hard though not unwrung. Such is the tale Experience ever told ; From the same seed Hke fruit has ever sprung : When I had sown the sands, the wind, the deep. What else but Desolation could I reap ? LXX VII. I see myself, and I lament the change ; But it is wrought, — the transformation 's o'er ; Fancy herself can image nothing strange ; The heart's elysian world exists no more : Ne'er shall my bark that vast Atlantic range. Seeking in vain the lost Hesperian shore ; Shipwrecked she hes, decaying in the breeze. Like some poor invalid with slow disease ! 206 HESPEEIA. LXXVIII. Memory still lingers ! after many a shock The heart will petrify ; but yet it seems, Like moss and fern embalmed in living rock, To keep the traces of its early dreams. How does their tenderness its hardness mock ! With what distinctness every fibre gleams ! So rises crime on crime, — so corse on corse, — And ghost to ghost upon thy dreams, Eemorse ! LXXIX. for one drop of Lethe's cooling tide To quench the past ! — and yet if on the brink 1 stood, perhaps the choice that 's now denied. When granted, would destroy the wish to drink; Why lave the lovely image deeply dyed Into my soul? Better it were to sink Together in the dark and sluggish tide Thus in oblivion as in life allied. HESPEEIA. 207 LXXX. That doubt is useless, — there exists no power " To r^ze the troubles of the brain " but one ; And I like others must await my hour, Until the lamp is out, the goal is won. Already evening's clouds begin to lower, And to the west fast tends my setting sun : Hesper and I, before Night's shadows close, May find a change of Worlds, if not • — Repose ! LXXXI. Where dost thou lie, great Nimrod of the West ! Lord of the wilderness ! unhousM Boone ? Upon what mountain dost thou take thy rest, The starry sky thy tent, thy lamp the Moon ? Thou wouldst not sleep with so profound a zest If thy prophetic dreams could teU how soon Man and his arts thy forest haunts will spoil With farms, roads, houses, cities, strife, and toil ! 208 HESPERIA. LXXXII. And where is he, the noble savage, — one Who, had his nation annals, should not die, — The native orator that called the Sun " Father of Colors," blending Newton's eye With Tully's pictured words ? — His goal is won, And now in hunting-grounds beyond the sky The " Little Turtle " deer and elk pursues, Nor dreams his fame inspires the white man's muse. LXXXIII. And thou, sophistic Volney ! where art thou ? ^'^ Whose page the Indian chief's bold figures bore To the far Seine, where Mirabeau's scathed brow, The Demosthenian laurel briefly wore : To what Convention doth he thunder now ? What realms of chaos do thy steps explore ? What empires ruined — or to ruin — share Thine eloquence and his, — if eloquence be there ? HESPEEIA. 209 LXXXI V. The earth we trample answers, Dust to dust ! With all before the flood, and since the fall, Evil and good, ye sleep, — just and unjust, — One mother's kindred breast receives us all : For all beyond, who shall avouch man's trust ? And who refute ? "What bigot dare to call For judgment on his fellow-mortal's head ? " What fool rush in where angels dare not tread " ? LXXXV. Marvels, Ohio, on thy soil abound, Fragments it puzzles Science (b explain, Of mammoth, mastodon, and Indian mound. Temple, tomb, fortress ? — still discussed in vain ! Who may the history of those bones expound ? Where do the annals of that age remain ? What spell shall call both races from the deep Where Earth's primeval forms and secrets sleep ? 210 HESPERIA. LXXXVI. Gigantic Sauri, lizards, bats, and fern, Embalmed in rock with tortoise, bird, and sbell, Wrecks of an old creation rude and stern, Remain the story of our globe to tell : Much from that lesson human pride may learn, And even Philosophy, who reasons well. By every new discovery might be taught How limited at last is human thought ! LXXXVII. I From Nature's fragments some few truths we wrest ; But on these mortal relics endless gloom. Like Etna on the rebel giant's breast. Lies, with o'erwhelming weight, a living tomb ! Theirs is a mystery as yet unguessed. When were they raised, and wherefore ? How ? By whom ? Whence came the workmen ? WTio destroyed them ? Why ? The Echo of Oblivion answers, -^ I! HESPEEIA. 211 LXXX VIII. Creole Arcadia of the golden age, Vanished forever from this iron time, Yet living still on Brackenridge's page, Lovely St. Genevieve ! — almost sublime In thy simplicity, before this rage For filthy gain made Poverty a crime, — Noted for Hospitality untired, And constant dance and song by innocence inspired ! LXXXIX. Alas ! this " knowledge '' our eternal vaunt, — This half-refinement, and suburban show, — This " Liberty " that chiefly serves to taunt Others who know it not, nor wish to know, -^ This vanity that boasts of all we want, — This steam-borne " Progress " that finds Time too slow, - Wbat are they all ? Gross, blind, ungovemed strength, Iron-pent vapor which explodes at length ! 212 HESPERIA. xc. St. Louis ! little do I mark or prize Thy growth and wealth, — as little do I care For things that are a marvel in thine eyes : And yet for me thou hast thy relics ; — ■ there "Where lie thy brave and lovely, good and wise, I may not pass without a silent prayer For Ashley, Argia, Adria's repose. Whose love and memory mingle with my woes. XCI. Across the Prairie's silent waste I stray, A fertile, verdant, woodless, boundless plain ; Shadeless it lies beneath the glare of day. But gentle breezes sweep the grassy main, Over whose surface, as they rest or play, The waving billows sink or rise again ; While some far distant lonely hut or tree Looms like a solitary sail at sea ! HESPEEIA. 213 XCII. What is yon rude and overhanging steep That frowns on Illinois' unmurmuring tide, — Fortress, or cliflf", or Pharos of the deep ? Stem Nature's monument of savage pride, The Sioux's tower of hunger ! ^° — Pisa's keep, Amid whose horrors Ugolino died, Before that rock of famine well might quail, Did but an Indian Dante tell its tale. XCIII. Wouldst thou receive of Superstition's power And man's credulity astounding proof, Behold the modern saint and prophet's bower. The city of Nauvoo. All grave reproof Were lost upon such folly: — hour by hour, Wall upon wall ascends, and roof on roof. And soon the Impostor's temple will arise, As if to flout the lightning of the skies. 214 HESPERIA. XCIV. This in the nineteenth century ! — So bhnd Are they who deem the mighty triumph wrought, And point us boldly to " the march of mind," As though the world were near perfection brought, And the Millennium reached, or left behind, Because scarce worthy of a second thought : Sages, Philosophers, and Sophists, you "Who praise all things as good, laud great Nauvoo ! XC V. Savage Leucadia ! to thy steep repair ^'' The pilgrims of a faith, — the bleeding heart ; Sacred thy shrine to Love and to Despair, And wanting only Sappho's lyric art To give imprisoned echoes to the air, Till Oolaitha's gentle ghost should start, Wondering to see a pale-face at her grave, Calling her name and spirit from the wave ! HESPEEIA. 215 XC VI. Hast thou forgot our Indian friend's abode, Our welcome, and the scenes we witnessed there? The wigwam floor with robes and peltry strewed, — The calumet of Peace that all must share, — The council-fire, — the conjurer's tricks it showed, — - The Medicine dance, — the wolf, — the moose, — the bear, - And the great ball-play, with the dawn begun, And hardly finished by the set of sun. XC VII. How keen, how active is the mimic strife ! What grace of form and motion they display ! Hundred of Grecian statues sprung to life Would not have seemed of more immortal clay,'^ Or more Apollo-like. The angry knife Is laid aside, — or sport might turn to fray, So fierce the struggle between bands that watch To stop or urge the ball, or turn, or catch. 216 HESPEEIA. XCVIII. Not Angelo's nor Donatello's skill In folds more graceful human form could twine ; Nor his — my countryman — who, if he will, May rival yet the artist called " Divine." ^" Sinews and muscles twist and swell, — veins fill, - Hither and thither waving groups incline, Till the live mass crashes confused to earth. And the ball springs like Discord's apple forth ! XCIX. Sons of the Forest! — yet not wholly rude, Children of Nature, eloquent are they, By their Great Spirit taught in solitude, To boast o'er pain a more than stoic sway ; Their pastime war affords, the chase their food ; No foe they pardon, and no friend betray; Admiring nothing, — men without a tear, — Strangers to falsehood, pity, mirth, and fear. HESPEEIA. 217 C. Here Chastellux and Chateaubriand found Matter to point a moral or a tale ; This was Atala's consecrated ground, Ample the canvas — if the colors fail.™ Yet should a trump of more exalted sound The Christian genius and the Martyr hail: To the fallen monarchs of the vainly free, " Faithful among the faithless,'' only he ! CI. Behold the sinking mountain ! "^ year by year, Lower and lower stUl, the boatman thinks. Its rudely castellated cliffs appear. And he is sure that in the stream it sinks. Gazing in wonder, not unmixed with fear To see how fast its rocky basis shrinks, He murmurs to himself in lower tone, " What does the DevU do with all this stone ? ' 10 218 HESPERIA. CII. Superior ! shall I call thee lake or sea ? Thou broad Atlantic of the Western waters, Whose ocean-depths and spring-like purity, Unstained by civilized or savage slaughters, Proclaim thee worthiest of streams to be The bath and mirror of Hesperia's daughters. Their Caspian thou ! alike to freeze or shine. And every Caspian beauty matched by thine ! cm. Beside thy beach stem Nature's tablets rise, Her pictured rocks, eternal and sublime. Mountains her canvass, framed in sea and skies. Her colors air and water, earth and time. Fata Morgana's magic landscape flies,^^ Even with the mists that o'er Messina climb ; But this endures, — traced on creation's youth, It will outlive all earthly things save Truth ! HESPERIA. 219 CIV. Colossal wall and column, arch and dome, O'erhanging cliff and cavern, and cascade. Ruins like those of Egypt, Greece, or Rome, And towers that seem as if by giants made ; Surpassing beauty — overwhelming gloom — Masses of dazzling light and blinding shade, — All that can awe, delight, o'erpower, amaze. Rises for leagues on leagues to our bewUdered gaze ! CV. Ozolapaida ! Helen of the West,^' Whose fatal beauty and adulterous joy Two nations with the scourge of war opprest Twice tenfold longer than the siege of Troy : Assiniboin and Sioux both confessed Such prize well worth the struggle to destroy A kindred people ; but no Homer kept The memory of thy charms, and so they slept. 220 HESPEKIA. C VI. My nameless, voiceless, tuneless song is o'er, Avouching weU, too well, what first I said, We have no poetry ! Upon this shore Pan and Apollo and the Muse are dead ; This lay shall fade hke all that went before, While poppies and not laurels crown my head. Think ye that griefs like mine admit of verse ? Go ! bid the victim at the stake rehearse ! C VII. No, no ! as evening's dews to sun-parched bowers. So to young burning breasts has verse been given To soothe and cool the flush of feverish hours. Even with the tears exhaled from earth by heaven : Such drops renew the bloom of passion's flowers, And calm the weary soul, " parched, wrung, and riven," Bless those that shed, and those on whom they fall, Ay, and the world that mark them, one and all ! HESPEEIA. 221 C VIII. But when the ebbing pulse wanes faint and slow, And into twilight sinks each lingering ray ; When on our head falls fast untimely snow, And coming winter clouds the cheerless day ; No dews the Night, no tears the eyes bestow, — No words the soul, to mourn its own decay ; Within — around — a dreary silence reigns, And Life is all exhausted but its pains ! CIX. Or if no frost the waste of years deform, With flushing cheek and festering breast we breathe, Proving — far worse — volcanic passions' storm, Whose outward calmness mocks the fires beneath, As coming earthquakes wear a tranquil form. And the sword slumbers in its quiet sheath ; Or as typhoons and desert winds alike Are silent as the serpent till they strike. 222 HESPEKIA. ex. Tliese have no voice ; yet, might their ruins speak The past and present eloquently well, Homer and Hesiod's tongue to theirs were weak ; Angels alone might utter what they tell. As, fiend-like, on themselves their rage they wreak, Yet never dare to burst the seal-bound spell. Thus fane, tower, palace, desert-buried deep, Thebes, Tadmor, and Elora's secrets keep. CXI. For souls like such, all poetry is past ; Not even in history their thoughts survive, Like crowded cities into lava cast. Oblivion-doomed, embalmed while yet alive ; Into the hardening rock that holds them fast They petrify and live, but cease to strive, As more than one enchanted realm o'erthrown Saw all things turning at a word to stone. HESPEEIA. 223 CXII. Above the stifled heart or nation's grave Tears, centuries, millenniums ev'n may pass, But o'er their barren dust no laurels wave, Forth from their ashes springs no blade of grass : Thus seas, in tempest frozen, cease to rave, Joining the icy ocean's Alps of glass To threat the sunless sky with horrid forms, Whose calm or shock exceeds a thousand stonns. CXIII. No, no ! the prison may send forth its mirth, — Fire-tortured metals in the flames refine. Ores in the dark recesses of the earth, — Pearls in the sea's unfathomed caverns shine. Gems in the mountain's Uving rock have birth, — But never Poetry in souls like mine ! When there are none to love, hear, blame, or praise. What God or man or statue utters lays? 224 HESPEEIA. CXIV. But the scene conjured up by memory lades, Fade prairie, stream, and forest from my view, And hunter, warrior, pilgrim, now are shades. Dream of my soul ! I am alone with you : Cosenza's streets replace Missouri's glades, And all Calabria's legends rise anew ; With HER the nameless theme, my toneless shell, I Though found too late, reverberates too well ! CX V, Within thy walls, Cosenza, it is said, Rome's barbarous victor, flushed with conquest, died. And found his tomb beneath thy river's bed. Whose stream by captive hands was turned aside. There, with an empire's spoils, Alaric's head Was laid in dust, and the returning tide. Stained with the blood of all his prisoners, rose To hide the scourge of earth from friends and foes ! ^ HESPEEIA. 225 CX VI. Far other victor boasts Cosenza now, Far other tears are mingling with her stream, Far other Deities must hear the vow Of him who wanders there in idle dream : Intent to weave a garland for that brow, Which Laura's double wreath might well beseem. If that thy wave, like Lethe's, might but steep His name and memory in eternal sleep. CXVII. Tet would not now Cosenza's pastor deal^ The curse of Manfred's ashes upon mine : Though at one altar we had ceased to kneel, Nor sought salvation in the self-same sign, No sin to mercy that kind heart could steel. No zealot's fire inflame that soul benign : Come as it will my hour, and when, and where, Cosenza's pastor will bestow his prayer. 10* o 226 HESPEEIA. CXVIII. Wreck of a city now ! the more like one Who is himself the wreck of love and time, - There is a name the heart reposes on, And pen repeats in fond but flagging rhyme. Farewell Cosenza ! ' Naides Hesperise trifida fumantia flammS, Corpora dant tumulo : signantque hoc carmine saxum His situs est Pliaeton ourriis auriga patemi : Quern si non tennit, magis tamen excidit ausis." Ovid. NOTES NOTES TO CANTO I. Note 1. Hesperia. " DiONYSius says that before the time of Hercules the whole penin- sula of Italy was called Hesperia or Ausonia by the Greeks, but by the natives, Satumia. The name of Hesperia, having an air of antiquity, is frequently used by Eoman poets, after the example of lost Greek writers : in those of the latter that remain, it is exceedingly rare, and in the more ancient never bears a particular reference to Italy The name Hesperia Magna embraced the whole West, as it were a fourth quarter of the world." — Niebtjhr's Rome, Vol. I. p. 34, and the authors there quoted. " Thus," continues the same author, " we speak of the Levant, and Anatolia, as parts of the East." From all this, it is evident the ancient Greeks used Hesperia precisely in the same sense that we speak of the Great West. The Eomans appropriated the name by virtue of a par- tial possession of the country, but since the horizon of the world has enlarged, and new dominions that Rome never dreamt of are smiled upon by Hesper, it follows irresistibly by the law of Location, that we have quite as good a title to the name as we have to the continent. 230 NOTES. Having seized upon the West, peopled and cultivated it, Hesperia is ours by right of conquest ; what remains to be seen is whether we can deserve and preserve it. Note 2. — Stanza I. Line 1 . " I pray thee, gentle sister, mock me not ! " I refer not to a sister by birth, but by adoption, with whose name and history you are familiar. Note 3. — Stanza VIII. Line 1. " And these are much and all," &c. " Les plus belles contrees du monde quand elles ne retracent aucun souvenir, quand elles ne portent I'empreinte d'aucun evenement re- marquable sont depourvues d'interet en comparaison des pays histo- riques." — Mad. de Staisl, Corinne, Liv. VIII. c. 4. Note 4. — Stanza X. Lines 7 and 8. '■'■What mnsfor Arden's wood one Briton's tear. But pensive Jaques with his poor stricken deer." [It is almost superfluous to remark that these lines were written be- fore the wood of Soignies, part of the ancient forest of Ardennes, had obtained a new and deeply interesting association in the mind of every Englishman, from the ever memorable battle of Waterloo.] * * This, and all the succeeding notes included between brackets [ ] have been added by the Editor. NOTES. 231 Note 5. — Stanza XI. Line 1. " Could we our comury's scenery invest," &c. Civilized men, the inhabitants of countries made classic by a thousand memories, tired of the eternal presence of their kind, and satiated with all common emotions, may long for the wilderness, and suppose savage Nature the true and only source of the sublime. But let them try to embody their feelings and ideas so as to impart pleasure to others ; let them attempt to extract poetry from inanimate or irrational objects apart from man, and see how soon monotony produces weariness. Note 6. — Stanza XXI. Line 4. " Through cane-hnke, barren, prairie, swamp, or wood." [The author uses terms familiar in America, and of which his in- tended reader required no explanation. Others, however, might look in English Dictionaries for several of his words. Cane-hrake is an ex- tensive mass of cane growing closely together in marshy ground, usually on the banks of streams, and impenetrable to any foot but that of the Indian or hunter. Barren does not signify waste or bad land, but tracts destitute of trees, such as may be seen in Kentucky, though the soil is fertile. Prairies are vast plains covered with long grass, but without foliage, except here and there islands of trees along the margin of water-courses. Swamp is not a mere bog or morass, but an impene- trable and tangled forest of enormous trees, vines, and undergrowth, flourishing in evergreen verdure in marshy ground. Chute, which he uses (Canto III.), is the break of the fall or rapid, a term of the Cana- dian voyageurs. Sault is the word used to express the narrow tumultu- ous rapids, full of rocks and whirlpools, through which the bark canoes are hurried with fearful impetuosity, and not without danger.] 232 NOTES. Note 7. — Stanza XXII. Line 4. ^^That language of the heart, our mother tongue." " Es kniipftunsfest aus Vaterland Der Multersprache susses Band." Pauline von Bkedon. Note 8. — Stanza XXI V. Line 1. " Hail to thee, Florida ! bright fairy-land .' " You may wonder why I begin with Florida rather than any other portion of the vast region, so much of which we saw together. The answer is easy, though the reason be of little weight. In so rambling and incoherent a narrative as mine, the place where it commenced could be of little consequence. Florida was first settled, for the town of St. Augustine dates back to 1565, whilst Virginia did not boast a European settlement till 1607, New York not till 1614, and Massachu- setts not till six years later. There being, therefore, no good reason to disturb her right of seniority, I have allowed Florida to enjoy it. Note 9. — Stanza XX"V. Line 1. " Escambia! in thy wood-embosomed bay," &c. The bay of Escambia by moonlight, clear, calm, and bright as the sky it reflected, with a solitary canoe gliding over its surface, whose oars kept time to some old Spanish Komance chanted by the boat- men, is a scene impressed upon my memory no less by its own beauty than by associations never to be forgotten. One very dear to me was ill, and, after suffering much, sunk towards midnight into a gentle slumber. Relieved from my watch by the NOTES. 233 couch of the patient, I stole to the balcony for air, and saw the bay and sky as I describe them. Never were sounds sweeter than that Spanish ballad, — not even "Tasso's echoes '' from the gondoliers of Venice, which you may have heard, though I did not ; yet, let me confess to you, the strongest feeling of the moment was fear lest the song, soft and distant as it was, or the almost inaudible dip of the oars, should disturb the sleep of the invalid The meteors, do you remember how we used to watch them ? ... The numberless brilliant ones of a well-remembered night must have been those which Philosophy has since ascertained to be periodic about the 10th of August. But Philosophy had as little thought of them then as I had of Philosophy. Note 10. — Stanza XXVI. Line 1. " The lovely Santa Rosa" &c. You are quite as familiar with Santa Rosa as myself, and can answer for the fidelity of the description. The personification of the island, and Fort St. Charles of the Barrancas, is a somewhat bold and hazardous license ; but if ever fort and island would bear to be personified, St. Charles and Santa Rosa will endure that liberty. Note 11. — Stanza XXVII. Line 8. " That boasted rule whereon the sun ne'er set." The well-known vaunt of the Spanish ambassador. Note 12. — Stanza XXVIII. Line 1. "Chippola ! savage superstition feigned," &c. You remember of course the ' big spring ' of Chippola, supposed by 234 XOTES. the IndianfS to be the fountain of everlasting youth, to discover which Ponce de Leon is said to have undertaken his voyage. Such legends I believe are common to almost every race and country. There is a fountain of this nature in the Greek romance of Ismene and Ismenias, in the German book of Heroes, and in the French " Fabliau " of Coquaigne : — " La fontaine de Jovent Qui fit vejovenir le gent." Nay, the Arabs have a tradition that Alexander the Great discovered it. If you are curious to know more of its site and properties, Dunlap's History of Fiction and the Commentaries on the Koran will inform you. It would now, of course, be impossible to determine whether the Indians lent this fiction to the Spaniards, or borrowed it from them ; most probably the latter. Note 13. — Stanza XXXI. Line 1. " Mark where poor Ortiz long was doomed to pine." For an interesting account of Ortiz's adventures, see " Historia de la Floi-ida, por el Inca Garcilaso de la Vega," Madrid, 1803, Tom. I. cap. xvii. p. 119. Note 14. — Stanza XXXII. Line 1. " The neii) world hath its ivonders, as the old." One of the most striking objects to a foreigner is an American for- est. Even to ourselves, when a residence abroad has unfamiliarized us with it, the forest comes upon us with all its gloomy grandeur, its soli- tude and silence. The vast thicket of enormous trees, vines, canes, and NOTES. 235 undergrowth, wliich we call a swamp, with its variety of production and inhabitants, — here and there a lake, and everj'where the richest, rankest vegetation, — exists, I fancy, only in America and Africa. In Europe certainly, I saw nothing like it. Note 15. — Stanza XXXIX. Lines 7, 8. " All but the Mocking-bird, — lie seldom quits Man's haunts, like other jesters, mimes, and wits." During our travels at the South, we remarked, as you may remember, that the sight of a mocking-bird indicated our approach to a plantation. This proves his sociability. As for the other little additions to his char- acter, I should be sorry to calumniate him, because he was an especial favorite of yours. But the truth must be told. He is a great rogue even according to aboriginal testimony. The Indians have a legend that he stole the tongues of all the other birds while they slept, and hence the variety of his notes, which are an imitation of all. Por this reason he was called, in one of their ancient dialects, Coonee latee, which literally translated signifies " Trick-tongue." A clever thief has always been in favor with barbarians and semi-barbarians, from the time of Sparta to the present day. A brother bard who be-sonneted the feathered Momus, some years ago, in the London " New Monthly," seems to have had a somewhat better opinion of his genius. At least he supposes the mimic to be a sentimental swindler, — a "minion of the moon, — melancholy and gentlemanlike." Judge ye, for yourself SONNET. TO THE MOCKING-BIRD. Winged mimic of the woods ! thou motley fool, Who shall thy gay buffoonery describe ? 236 NOTES. Thine ever-ready notes of ridicule Pursue thy fellows still with jest and gibe ; Wit, sophist, songster, Yoriok of thy tribe. Thou sportive satirist of Nature's school, To thee the palm of scoffing we ascribe, Arch mocker, and mad abbot of misrule ! For such thou art by day ; but all night long Thou pour'st a soft, sweet, solemn, pensive strain, As if thou didst, in this thy moonlight song. Like to the melancholy Jaques complain, Musing on falsehood, violence, and wrong, And sighing for thy motley coat again ! JfoTK 16. — Stanza XLII. Line 1. " Such is the world, and hath been since the fall." At the time of writing these lines I was ignorant of the resemblance between the thoughts embodied in them, and the following ones of Goethe : — " Da ist kein Augenblick, der nieht dich verzehrte, und die Deinigen um dich her, kein Augenblick, da du nicht ein Zerstbrer bist, seyn musst ; der harmloseste Spaziergang kostet tausend armen Wiirmchen das Leben, es zerriittet ein Fusstritt die miihsehligen gebaudo der Ameisen, und stampft eine kleine Welt in ein schmahliches Grab. Ha ! nicht die grosse, seltne Noth der Welt, diese Fluthen, diese Erdbeben, die cure Stadte verschlingen, riihren mioh ; mir untergrabt das Herz die verzehrende Kraft, die in dem All der Natur verborgen liegt ; die nichts gebildet hat, das nicht seinen Nachbar, nicht sich selbst zerstorte. Und so taumie ich be'angstigt, Himmel und Erde und ihre webenden NOTES. 237 Krafte um mich her: ich sehe nichts, als ein ewig verschlingendes, ewig wiederkauendes Ungeheuer." Note 17. — Stanza XLIII. Line 1. " All that is bright and beautiful must fade." " Cadono la oittJi, cadono i regni E r uom d' esser mortal, par ehe si sdegni." Tasso, Ger. Lib. Note 18. — Stanza XLIV. Line 8. " Which marks how far they sought through gore for gold." You must often have observed the ruins of old Spanish forts, which are found throughout Florida. Some doubtless mark only the chain which guarded the once flourishing settlements destroyed by the British and Indians under Governor Moore. Others are supposed to be more ancient, and vestiges of Pamfilo de Narvaez and Fernando de Soto's ill-fated expeditions. The modern Jasons sought here El Dorado, of which perhaps the golden fleece was the original version. The following account of that visionary region, extracted from 1 know not where, may perhaps amuse you : — "KL DOEADO. " This is a Spanish phrase, that, being freely translated into our lan- guage, means ' the golden or gilded.' It is often used by writers, when describing regions supposed to yield an abundance of the precious metals, and is sometimes applied to countries or districts said to be rich in soil, and salubrious in climate, and abounding in commercial or agri- cultural advantages. 238 NOTES. " During the war between the Crusaders and the Saracens, a sangui- nary conflict, remarkable for the prowess displayed by the combatants, in which Richard Coeur de Lion and Melek Adhel were the command- ers, terminated in favor of the English hero, who captured an immense caravan of nearly 2,000 camels and a vast drove of mules, laden with coin, ingots of gold and silver, superb armor, purple dye (such as was used by the Tyrians), rich robes, embossed cushions and spices. This vast booty, deemed sufficient to purchase a kingdom, was on its way from Babylon to the camp of Saladin. Richard distributed part of it among his followers, and despatched the remainder, in charge of a con- fidential escort, for England ; but it was thought much of it never reached its destination. On the cessation of hostilities, and previous to the Crusaders' departure from the Holy Land, they visited the splendid encampment of the Saracenic army, and were entertained with all the gorgeous pageantry and sumptuous hospitality of the Oriental monarch, who exchanged tokens of esteem and amity with the chivalric Richard. Among the European host there were many adventurers, who joined the army more to improve their fortunes, by developing the commercial resources of Palestine, than for the purpose of wresting Jerusalem from the Saracen ; and these, having seen the rich spoils taken by Richard and other leaders, on their return to England, France, Spain, Germany, and Rome, gave such enthusiastic accounts of the products and treasure of the Eastern Empire, that a spirit of enterprise was aroused, and an association formed of the opulent merchants of London, Hamburg, Lubec, Bruges, Antwerp, and other cities, for the extension of their mercantile relations. " This grand copartnership, while it formed a bond of friendship, and was a source of great wealth, contributed to the acquisition and diffusion of scientific knowledge, and the expansion of European commerce with NOTES. 239 the nations of Asia and Africa. It was called the Hanseatic League. The confederates were endowed with unusual privileges by several princes, to whom they loaned funds, shipping, and munitions of war. Their possessions and influence, obtained by wisdom and enterprise, at first elicited admiration, but ultimately their vast power alarmed the ruling potentates ; and as the confederation prudently declined supporting some insolvent principalities, despotic mandates were issued, threatening the leaguers with severe penalties, including the forfeiture of their municipal charters, if the league continued after a certain date. And thus was this noble association dissolved, after flourishing nearly three centuries. But though the Hanse towns preferred allegiance to revolution, their enterprising spirit still pervaded the public mind, and a new impulse was given to commerce by the noble Florentine merchant, Cosmo de Medicis, who was gratefully called the ' Father of his Country,' because he expended the vast wealth acquired by trade in patronizing industry, fostering the arts, founding literary institutions, preserving the peace, and promoting the prosperity of Florence. He died in 1464, and was ably succeeded by his grandson, Lorenzo de Medicis, who bartered the fine linens, velvets, and woollens of Flor- entine manufacture for the rare and valuable commodities of Egypt, Persia, and other countries. He was a merchant prince in 1490. About this time, Christopher Colon, or Columbus, a Genoese navigator, deter- mined to seek a new route to India, by sailing in a westerly direction ; and having unsuccessfiilly applied to several kings and princes, who haughtily derided him as an infatuated visionary, he was consoled and patronized by the erudite and generous Isabella, consort of Ferdinand, who, aliihough engaged in the expulsion of the Moors from Spain, ena- bled him to sail from Palos in 1492. As the fortunes and fate of Co- lumbus are interwoven with the history of America, we will not pause 240 NOTES. to sketch them here ; suffice it, therefore, that to the comprehensive views and munificent patronage of a noble-minded woman is justly to be ascribed the discovery of the new continent that is now the asylum of the oppressed of all nations, from the despotism of the Old World ; and although the venal adventurer, Americus, clandestinely obtained copies of his nautical charts, and for a while deprived the scientific Genoese of his well-earned fame, it is to be hoped that the historian, the sculptor, and the bard, will yet do justice to the memory of Chris- topher Columbus. The discovery of the new continent, and the mone- tary facilities granted by the bankers of Lombardy, singularly identi- fied with the fate of the powers who had crushed the Hanse towns, now divided public attention ; and, for a season, the desire of obtaining loans of money to extend their territories, and the restless spirit of adventure that pervaded princes and people, gave rise to a series of extravagant speculations ; soothsayers were consulted, estates mort- gaged, and connections formed that proved, like the South Sea, Yazoo, Choctaw, and other bubbles, utterly disastrous to all concerned. " At this extraordinary era, the fable of El Dorado was invented by a reckless impostor, who had visited Guiana and obtained specimens of rare birds, plants, minerals, &c. ; among other curiosities, some of the shields, bracelets, and gilded weapons of the Peruvians and other In- dians. The exaggerated representations of the boundless wealth and magnificence of the golden region spread contagiously from realm to realm, and so inflamed the imagination of navigators and statesmen, that in 1595 Sir Walter Raleigh obtained permission of Queen Eliza- beth to equip an expedition to explore the dominions of the gilded king. Elizabeth shrewdly remarked that it looked very like romantic knight- errantry, and required a description of his fair land, and the history of its sovereigns, trade, products, &c. Sir Walter stated that travellers who had been there gave him the following narrative. NOTES. 241 " After the fall of the Incag of Peru, a prince named Atabalipa col- lected all the treasures he could lay his hands on, and fled to an inland country, where he was kindly received and became king of Manoa, or El Dorado, with 'the title of the Great Moxo, or Great Paru; that his subjects gave him control of inexhaustible mines of gold, emerald, adamant, rubies, &c. ; that his palace was built of porphyry, alabaster, ebony, and cedar, with massive cornices, pillars, &c. of brilliant marble cased with gold ; that the country abounded in valuable perfumes, wonderful animals, delicious fruits, and spontaneously produced all the luxurious delicacies of every clime ; that the king's robes, furniture, and palanquins were enriched with gold, silver, and precious gems ; that the royal household and temples of the sun, the magi and vestals, were arrayed in the most gorgeous and most beautiful attire ; and that gold and silver were so little valued, that their weapons, armor, and house- hold vessels were mostly formed of those rich materials ; that the Great Paru was desirous of forming an alliance with some of the nations of Europe, and that the treasury and commerce of England would be vastly enhanced by such an alliance ; that the kingdom was situated in a delightful region near Guiana, and when his Majesty went to the temple of the sun, he was sprinkled all over with gold-dust, and his path strewed with delicate and fragrant flowers, &c. " Elizabeth knew well the romantic nature of her favorite, and told him that he could not realize all the wonders he had heard of, but hoped he would make discoveries and form alliances favorable to the commerce of England, and that it was principally with that object in view, she sanctioned his adventure in search of the kingdom of El Dorado. History informs us, that after encountering perils and priva- tions, wasting his health, and expending his resources, Raleigh returned to England, dejected, tempest-worn, and disheartened. But Eliza- 11 p 242 NOTES. beth's object was accomplished, for the embryo trade of her reign was the basis of the stupendous commerce that exists at this day between Great Britain and the governments of Peru, Chili, Bolivia, Mexico, &c. " The fate of Raleigh is an epitome of what befell'other adventurers, and when we contemplate the evils of indulging in such chimerical projects, and compare the disastrous speculations of the sixteenth cen- tury with many splendid bubbles that we have seen burst within a few years past, we easily perceive that peace and competence await the patient and industrious, while those who reject the advice of prudent friends, and the dictates of wisdom, generally share the fate of those adventurers who sought the delusive region of El Dorado." Note 19. — Stanza XL VI. Line 1. " What art thou, Glory f " &c. This and the foregoing stanza are imitated from the Italian sonnet of Giulio Bussi, — " Che sei tu Gloria ? " Note 20. — Stanza XLVIIL Line 1. " Fortress of fallen tyranny," &c. There is a passage in Thierry {Leltres sur I'Hisloire de France, p. 392,) which no doubt well describes the horror such edifices inspired in " the good old time." Note 21. — Stanza LI. Line 1. " The boy had perished at the destined hour," &c. A fact literally related. Oliver O'Hara, well known in America, is the person here referred to. I think you must have seen him. NOTES. 243 St. Augustine, — I have adopted the local pronunciatiou derived from tlie Spanish Augustine, — small and ruinous as it is, or was, interested me greatly, being the first specimen of a Spanish town I ever saw ; Pensacola not having that peculiar appearance. There were also the Castle, and the Minorcan girls, and the Spanish dances, — the nine days' festival in May, and the Lord knows what beside. How differently the same objects impress different beholders, accord- ing to their several associations 1 I was speaking of the Castle to an old inhabitant in terms of admiration " I never go near it," said he, " if I can help it. I can't ride' by without thinking of the time when I never went to bed at night without supposing I might find myself in the Calaboose before morning, nor ever rose in the morning without the thought that I might sleep there at night." The petty tyranny of provincial despots under absolute, and especially under decaying monarchies, is almost incredible. An inhabitant of St. Augustine, hated by the Governor, happened one day when his legs were encased in a new pair of silk hose, to meet his Excellency. " I should like, Seiior, to see how those stockings would look in the stocks." "I have not the least objection to gratify your Excellency, if you will only allow me to take my feet out of them." The wit and readi- ness of the reply alone saved him. Note 22. — Stanza LU. Line 1. " Saint Augustine, thy praise was sung by one," &c. The reference is to a sonnet I first saw in your possession. 'T is Night ! . . . . the lovely night of cloudless climes From her high throne the Moon looks calmly down 244. NOTES. On spire, cross, column, castle, gate, and town, Eelics of foreign rule and ancient times : Records of conquest, pride, and power, and crimes. The rise and fall, glory and shame of Spain ! Quiet and silent now alike remain The bell that called to vigils with its chimes, The cannon, trump, and drum. The restless main Vexing the orange-groves with murmurs deep. And ever-sighing breeze alone complain To fallen palace and deserted keep, As though they murmured o'er the broken chain And rusted sword, now sunk in dreamless sleep. Note 23. — Stanza LIII. Line 6. " The Constitution's column left to tell," &c. The column of the Constitution, still standing [1826] in the public square of St. Augustine, is no stranger to you. 'T is said, I know not how truly, to be the only one remaining in any of the present or former dominions of the Spanish monarchy. It was saved by the transfer of the colony to the United States by treaty, before the royal order was issued for destroying these memorials of " the Cortes and the Con- stitution." Note 24. — Stanza LIV. Line 8. " Much must die with me : Florida, farewell .' " " Pars etiam qusedam mecum moriatur oportet." OvrD, THstium, Lib. L El. 6. NOTES. 245 Note 25. — Stanza LVIII. Line 8. " And still they hold him as their country's sire ' " General Oglethorpe was offered the command of the British army in America, but refused to accept it, unless on condition of being authorized to assure the Colonies that justice should be done them. He said " he knew the people of America well ; that they would never be subdued by arms, but their obedience might be readily secured by Justice." The Earl of Effingham had the merit of setting him this noble exam- ple. With a frankness which his enemies styled folly, he assured his Majesty, " that, though he loved the profession of a soldier, and would be ever ready to sacrifice his life and fortune in his Majesty's service, he would never be instrumental in depri'i'ing any part of the people of their liberties, and therefore could not bear arms against the Ameri- cans." A county in Georgia has been called Oglethorpe, and another, Ef- fingham. Note 26. — Stanza LIX. Line 1. " Thy silver source, St. Mary's stream, is near," &c. I copy Bartram to save you the trouble of a reference. " The river St. Mary has its source from a great lake, or marsh, called Ouaquophenogaw (Okefinokee), which lies between Flint and Ocmulgee rivers, and is near three hundred miles in circuit. " This vast accumulation of waters in the wet season appears as a lake, and contains some large islands or knoUs of rich, high land, one of which the present generation of Creeks represent as one of the most blissful spots on earth. They say it is inhabited by a peculiar race of 246 NOTES. Indians, whose women are lovely beyond description. They also tell you that this terrestrial paradise has been seen by some of their enter- prising hunters, when in pursuit of game, who, being lost in inextricable swamps and bogs, were on the point of perishing, until unexpectedly relieved by a company of beautiful women called " daughters of the Sun," who kindly gave them such provisions as they had, chiefly fruit, such as oranges, dates, &c., and some corn, and then told them to fly for safety to their own country ; for that their husbands were fierce men, and cruel to strangers. They further say that their hunters had a view of the settlements, situated on the elevated banks of an island, or promontory, in a beautiful lake ; but that in their endeavors to approach it, they were involved in perpetual labyrinths, and, like en- chanted land, still as they imagined they had just gained it, it seemed to fly before them, alternately appearing and disappearing. They re- solved at length to leave the idle pursuit, and to return ; which after a number of inexpressible difficulties they efiected. " When they reported their adventures to their countrymen, their young warriors were inflamed with an irresistible desire to invade and conquer so charming a country ; but all their attempts have hitherto proved abortive, never having been able to find that enchant- ing spot, nor even any road or pathway to it ; yet they say that they frequently meet with certain signs of its being inhabited, as the building of canoes, footsteps of men, &c. They tell another story concerning the inhabitants of this fairy land, probable enough ; which is, that they are the posterity of a fugitive remnant of the ancient Yamasees, who escaped massacre after being overthrown in a bloody and deci- sive battle with the Creek nation." — Baetram's Travels, Chap. III. p, 25, Dublin ed. 1793. You will smile at the limits honest Bartram assigns to the Okefinokee. The unknown and the marvellous always go together. NOTES. 247 Note 27. — Stanza LXI. Line 1. " Into what new Atlantis had been wrought." " Solon in hia youth was greatly addicted to poetry, and Plato in Timaeus says, tliat if he had finished all his poems, and particularly the History of the Atlantic Island, which he brought out of Egypt, and had taken time to revise and correct them, as others did, neither Homer, Hesiod, nor any other ancient poet, would have been more famous." — Plutarch, Life of Solon. Note 28. — Stanza LXV. Line 2. " The messenger of ruin's track we trace." Tliere ai-e few of the Southern and Southwestern States in which the destruction of the forest does not mark the path of a tornado. The- course of some of these hurricanes extends upwards of a hundred miles in length, by one to three miles broad. Note 29. — Stanza LXIX. Lines 7 and 8. " Dark Eblis, come ! ascend thy fiery throne .' " Such a conflagration of the forest you and I have seen half a dozen times at least. If you wish to learn how it impresses others, read Beltrami, Basil Hall, or Stewart's descriptions. [" Les arbres surann^s de ces forSts immortelles avaient pris feu avec I'herbe, et les broussailles. Un vent violent du N. O., avait embrasd les plaines et les vallons. Les sommets des collines et des montagnes, oil le vent dominait plus fortement, surmontes par les flammes ressem- 248 NOTES. blaient k des voloans, au moment de leurs Eruptions effrayantes ; et le feu, qui dans les endroits lierbeux descendait en serpentant, oiFrait precisement I'aspect des laves ondoyantes du Vesuve, et de I'Etna " Cet ineendie nous accompagna plus ou moins vari^, pendant plus de 15 milles. L'incendie, qui fut une des causes de la chute de I'homme des siecles, aurait dte, peut-Stre, plus affreux mais il ne pent avoir of- fert, qu'une faible equisse des traits, h la fois sublimes, et epouvantable de celui-ci. Je crois, que le demon lui-meme en ^tait jaloux, et la Lune rougissait de luire inutilement sur cea endroits." — Beltrami, Decouverte des Sources du Mississippi. The scene however, is not peculiar t» America ; witness the following extract from Captain Owen's narrative : — " The exploring party in the boats ascended the stream of the Mapoota very slowly, as the tides were not felt a few miles from the vessel, and the current, being at this season much increased by the freshets, became on the second day so strong that it was with great dif- ficulty they made any progress ; so that they were five days ascending forty miles, which occupied only one to return. Their progress was, in addition, materially obstructed by hippopotami and alligators, which were extremely numerous. One of the latter attacked Mr. Tudor's boat, and tore a piece out of her gunwale. Numerous wild geese were seen daily, and the evening mess was often much improved by their pres- ence. On the fourth day a young alligator was shot, and the flesh was eaten with much satisfaction by the party, who pronounced it quite equal to turtle. They were so much annoyed by mosquitos, the howl- ing of wild beasts, and the grunting, bellowing, and sporting of the hip- popotami, that they got but little rest after their daily labors. Their camps were generally fixed on the right bank of the river, in the terri- tories of Mapoota, where they were frequently visited by the natives. NOTES. 249 To make a place for their huts, they were in the habit of setting fire to the long grass, which, being dry, burnt readily to some distance ; but the last evening of their ascent, they were surprised and rather alarmed at perceiving the flames extend to a neighboring forest. Mr Hood's description may convey an idea of the scene. He says : — " ' The burning grass was rapidly consumed, and we were about pitch- ing our tents as usual, when the flames suddenly spread in the direction of the forest ; another moment, and it -i^as on fire. First the underwood, then the branches, and lastly the ponderous trunks, were enveloped in one sheet of flame and smoke ; the noise was terrific, as the crackling embers fell to the ground, while fiery sparks and brands were spreading the devouring element in all directions. The birds and numerous animals that had so long inhabited this impenetrable solitude undis- turbed, were wildly screaming forth their terror, as, in their eiforts to escape, they fell suffocated by the smoke into the consuming mass. " ' We looked at one another in silent wonder, not unmixed with dread ; the wild flame was let loose ; it was spreading with uncontrolla- ble fury, and we actually shuddered as we gazed upon the destruction we had made. The earth, the sky and water, all seemed kindled into flame. Our little power had produced this mighty work; but who could stop it ? We felt our insignificance, and knew that One could arrest its burning course, and upon him we inwardly called with wonder and devotion. Such an event as this is of rare occurrence, and one that few men have seen, and none have been able to describe. It is almost too much for the eye to contemplate ; the feelings become subdued by the terrific grandeur of the scene. It was like a universal conflagration ; all around was fire, — red flames glowed from earth to heaven ! I can- not describe what I suffered, for it was a painful sensation thus to gaze directly on the power of the Almighty. Both were his works ; he had n* 250 NOTES. made the forest and the fire for the benefit of his creatures ; used with the wisdom he has given them, they are their chief blessings; but thus thrown thoughtlessly and carelessly together by impious man, they be- come a consuming curse, devouring all in their burning wrath. We had no opportunity of learning the extent of this conflagration, as we were that night obliged to pitch our tents on the opposite side of the river.' " NoTB 30. — Stanza LXXI. Line 3. " And here Pulaski poured that noble Hood," &c. Pulaski before coming to America had signalized his daring courage by seizing the person of the King during the unhappy civil wars of Poland. Though he was accompanied by only two or three persons, whom he deemed trusty associates, one relented and betrayed him. The King was saved, and the Count obliged to fly. He fell in the fruitless at- tempt to storm the lines at Savannah, on the 11th of October, 1779. His remains were embarked in a coaster for Charleston, but the vessel foundered. The citizens of Savannah have erected, in one of the nu- merous squares which adorn their city, a monument to the memories of Greene and Pulaski. Note 31. — Stanza LXXI. Line 8. " His bow of heavenly tricolor expand." This figure for the rainbow, it must be confessed, is rather violent, considering some of the scenes that have passed under the triple-hued, and more than thrice-stained flag. But you will pardon it, I know, for NOTES. 251 sake of the tricolor of our dear Italy. Ked, white, and gi-een, the types of Faith, Hope, and Charity, — the sacred hues formerly blended in the marbles of her churches, — the tints -with which her Dante invested his Beatrice in heaven, — may surely be compared without offence to Iris. Note 32. — Stanza LXXIII. Line 4. " Moultrie's defence, — the martyred Har/ne's death-scene." After the fall of Charleston, Colonel Hayne, whose family were in a distant part of the country, and who was expecting to hear of the death of his wife, then ill of the small-pox, was refused a parole, and required to sign a declaration of allegiance, which he did under the express excep- tion that he should never be required to take arms against his country. Notwithstanding this condition, he was afterwards required to serve in the British militia. Regarding this as a breach of compact, he joined the American forces, and, being captured by the enemy, was executed in the most summary and illegal manner. Not only all the inhabitants in Charleston in opposition to the British government, but even Lieu- tenani>Governor Ball, at the head of the Boyalists, interceded for his life. The ladies of Charleston presented a pathetic petition in his be- half. His relations and children, who had just performed the funeral rites of a tender mother, implored his life upon their knees ; but the heart of Lord Rawdon remained untouched. The condemnation of this cruel act by the voice of History drew from his Lordship, then Earl of Moira, a late and fruitless attempt to palliate it. Note 33. — Stanza LXXIV. Line 8. " Sumter, the gallant game-cock of the South." General Sumter went by this nickname among his soldiers. 252 NOTES. Note 34. — Stanza LXXVI. Lines 1 and 2. " Here too De Kalh, called brave among the brave, In man's most holy quarrel fought and died." De Kalb fell in the battle of Camden. He died rejoicing in the ser- vices he had rendered America in her struggle for liberty, and gloried to his last breath in the honor of dying for such a cause. These senti- ments he expressed in a letter to a friend, dictated during his last mo- ments. A simple obelisk, with the name of De Kalb as its only inscription, does honor to him and to the town of Camden. Note 35. — Stanza LXXXIX. Line 1 . " Said not the subtle Tuscan, if men knew.'' Macohiavelli. " Sono questi modi crudellissimi e nemici d' ogni Tirere, non solamente cristiano ma uomo, e debbegli qualunque uomo fuggire. Nondimeno oolui che non vole pigliare quella prima via del bene, quando si voglio mantenere, conviene che entri in questo male. Ma gli uomini pigliano certe vie del mezzo che sono dannossissime ; perche non sanno essere ne tutti buoni, nfe tutti cattivi." — Tl Principe, Lib. I. cap. 26. ' Note 36. — Stanza LXXXIX. Line 8. " Save Lafayette and Talleyrand alone." [From Galignani's Messenger of May 20.] DEATH OF GENERAL LAFAYETTE. AVith unfeigned regret we announce this melancholy event, which took place at a quarter to five o'clock, this morning. The improve- NOTES. 253 ment which was perceptible in the symptons of his fatal malady yester- day evening, and which inspired his friends with a hope that his valua^ ble life might yet be spared to them, continued until about two o'clock this morning, when a change took place in his breathing, which an- nounced the approach of dissolution. A blister was about to be applied to the chest, but he faintly expressed his dissent, and these were his last words. The venerable General was born on the 1st of September, 1757, and consequently wanted little more than three months to com- plete the age of seventy-seven. The wondrous scenes in both the New World and the Old, in which the name of Lafayette was prominently distinguished, are among the most remarkable in the annals of mankind ; and we may safely aver (without entering into abstract opinions on po- litical doctrines) that History does not in all her records possess a name which has passed through the searching ordeal of public opinion, even in the darkest and most tempestuous times, more pure and unsulKed than his whose death his country is to-day called upon to deplore. [From the London Times, of the 23d May.] The death of General Lafayette has produced among all the friends of liberty a regret proportioned to their sense of his public and private virtues, rather than to any high estimate formed of the intellectual pow- ers of that revolutionary patriarch. General Lafayette was a strictly honest man, a brave soldier, a disinterested patriot, an enthusiast in the cause of general liberty, of which there nevertheless appears no evi- dence that he understood the true nature or theory, which alone would account for his incapacity at the most favorable periods of his political existence to render its principles subservient to the wants and interests of France. The name of freedom, so early as the outset of the Ameri- can contest, had no small charms for the ardent spirit of Lafayette ; a 254 NOTES. war in defence of it dazzled a young soldier's imagination ; and a war against England, in a much worse cause, would have inflamed the blood of any genuine Frenchman. As a volunteer for America, he had a large field for the display of those popular qualities, vivacity, cour- tesy, courage, and generosity, — by all of which Lafayette was distin- guished, and which won for him the personal affection of thousands of individuals among a rude people, not very susceptible of deep impressions from either the showy or the amiable in human nature. The Transatlantic popularity of M. de Lafayette followed him to France. When the revolutionary troubles broke out, he was at the top of everything, — he was foremost in everything but crime. Successive crises, however, soon arose, wherein it was impossible for any but crim- inals to be leaders, and Lafayette's speedy abdication of a post, which would have required the sacrifice of all hia better principles and all his gentler virtues, was imputed to him as weakness of character. We know that he never made a dishonorable choice, when the question was " weak or wicked." It is indeed certain that the deceased General had not those qualities which carry men in triumph through the wear and tear of civil conflicts, — where all the resources of sagacity, dex- terity, and promptitude of decision under adverse and unlooked for circumstances, are hourly called into play. Lafayette could move con- fidently along a level road, terminated by a visible and definite object ; but the depths and intricacies of a complex and continued revolution- ary struggle bewildered him. He could not fathom nor emerge from them. Hence he was extinguished as an actor during the first scene of the tragedy ; and the same upright and conscientious spirit which drove him into exile under the Jacobin democracy, condemned hini to obscurity under the despotism of Napoleon. NOTES. 255 A republican in word and deed, he never would crouch to Bonaparte, nor applaud that iron pageant which he miscalled a Government, nor acknowledge the blood and spoils of foreign nations as a sufficient atonement to France herself for the ruin of every institution and every power that could be appealed to by civilized people as their security against the caprices of a tyrant. Lafayette plunged, therefore, into deep retirement, and was apparently neglected, though watched with vigilant suspicion, during the whole reign of Bonaparte. From the Kestoration to the Ke volution of 1830, the old apostle of liberty was always at his post, — invariably on the side of liberal and national measures, but exemplary in his respect for the laws, and his discourage- ment of public disturbance. The popular victory which drove the incorrigible Bourbons of the elder branch from Paris, might have placed Lafayette at the head of a French republic ; but good sense and high principle alike restrained him from yielding to a seduction which might have cost his country a civil war. He gave with his own hand the crown of France to Louis Philippe, and, as in former instances, the movement, whose first impulse had been directed by him, speedily shaped another course, leaving Lafay- ette stranded. The fact is, that the worthy General had not ascen- dency over others to make them his instruments for any length of time, and was too honest to be theirs when he once disapproved their pro- ceedings. He was ever the first man whom revolution, while it yet wore the aspect of reform, sought as its apologist with the world, and the first who was revolted by its degeneracy. His name will go down to after ages in company with the most portentous events of modern times. But to most of them he was an appendage, — they were not his creation. His position made him celebrated, — it even made him im- portant ; but it could not make him great. 256 NOTES. Note 37. — Stanza XCI. Line 8. " Columbia's father from Canova's hand." The statue of Washington, by Canova, was destroyed by the fire which consumed the State-House at Raleigh, to the unspeakable regret of all who were fortunate enough to see, and had taste enough to prize, that exquisite specimen of art. It is said not to have been remarkable as a likeness, and the costume was objected to ; nevertheless the general effect was admirable. I saw it only twice, — once by day, and once by torchlight, — but can never forget it. You had opportunities of seeing it in progress, and conversing with the great restorer of sculpture in our day. How I envy you ! NOTES TO CANTO II. Note 1. — Stanza II. Lines 3 and 4. '^Foremost of all who wrote, or spoke, or bled. To win their country's birthright. Liberty ! " Washington, — Jefeekson, — Patrick Henry. Note 2. — Stanza V. Line 7. " Thine ancient limits well may live in song." Virginia, as laid down on some old British maps, extended from the Hudson to the St. John's, E. P. On the other hand, those of Florida as claimed by Spain reached to, and even beyond, St. Helena. The boundaries of their respective colonies were a fruitful source of war between European states. In the division of my subject, I have taken with names the license this uncertainty permitted. You cannot expect Poetry even now to be more exact than her sister Geography once was. Note 3. — Stanza VI. Line 8. " And every year gains ages on the last." I am indebted, for many of the thoughts in this and the following stanzas, to an eloquent historical fragment of Victor Hugo's. Q 25B NOTES. Note 4. — Stanza VII. Line 6. " From Eden's garden, in the Eastern clime." Wilford and Sir Walter Raleigh favor the hypothesis that the nurs- ery of mankind and seat of Eden was in Central Asia. Asiatic He- searches, Vol. VI. p. 497. Raleigh's Hist, of the World. Note 5. — Stanza XII. Line 8. " There are who trace his steps to Andes' snows'' " To this day, An-d^s still designates the Alpine regions of Thibet bordering on Chinese Tartary." — Tod's Annals and Antiquities of Rajahsfhan, Vol. I. p. 44. Note 6. — Stanza XVIIL Line 1. "Perhaps the empire of the world," &c. Sagacious conjectures fulfilled by Time assume the character of prophecy. In one of Horace Walpole's letters, written in 1770, he says : — " You have seen the accounts from Boston. The tocsin seems to be sounded in America. I have many visions about that country, and fancy I see twenty empires and republics forming upon vast scales all over that continent, which is growing too mighty to be kept in subjec- tion to half a dozen exhausted nations in Europe. As the latter sink, and the others rise, they who live between the eras will be a sort of Noah's witnesses to the period of the old world, and origin of the new. I entertain myself with the idea of a future Senate in Carolina and Virginia, where their patriots will harangue on the austere and incor- ruptible virtue of the ancient English ; will tell their auditors of our NOTES. 259 disinterestedness and scorn of bribes and pensions, and make us blush in our graves at their ridiculous panegyrics ! " Hume, too, is said, from an antipathy to Whiggism, to have expunged a passage equally remarkable from the first edition of his History. [America.] " The seeds of many a noble state have been sown in climates kept desolate by the wild manners of the ancient inhabitants ; and an asylum secured in that solitary world for liberty and science, if ever the spreading of unlimited empire or the inroad of barbarous na- tions should again extinguish them in thb turbulent and restless hemi- sphere ! " The eye of Montcalm also pierced somewhat into futurity, and fore- told part of our fortunes ; and your own Filangieri augured for us a brilliant destiny : — " In un angola dell' America presso un popolo libero e commerciante, figUo dell' Europa, ma che 1' oppressione ha reso inimico deUa sua madre ; presso questo popolo, io dieo, s' innalza una voce che ci dice : Europei, se per servirvi, noi siamo venuti nel nuovo mondo, sappiate che oggi le nostre ricchezze e la cognizione di quelle che possiamo acquistare, non soffrono piu una servitii oltraggiosa, che puo essere permutata con una specie di libertk, che non tarderSi molto a metterci nello stato di darvi la legge e che vr fark un giorno pen tire d' essere stati gli artefici delle vostre catene. La nostra independenza frutto delle vostre ingiustizie e del nostro risentimcnto ; i vantaggi della nostra posizione ; la celerity che puo avere il nostro commercio ; la facilita de richiamare a noi con uno solo atto di volunt^ le riehezze e gli agi de' due emisferi ; i progresse della nostra popolazione accresciuta nel tempo stesso e deUa motiplicitk de' matrimonj e che e' opulenza pubblica produce e dal concorso degli stranieri che ta speranza di miglior fortuna richiamera sulle nostre rive ridenti per i raggi d' una 2'60 NOTES. nascente libertk, tutti questi vantaggi uniti alia superiority che dh, agli stati ed agli uomini il vigore della gioventti accopiato al sentimento deUa prosperitk, ci renderk gli arbitri del destino dell' America e della sorte dell' Europa : noi potremo con facility strapparvi dalle mani le sorgente delle vostre ricchezze : lo spazio immerse che ei separa da Toi, ci permetterk di eompire i preparativi delle nostre invasioni, prima che lo strepito ne sia pervenuto ne' vostri climi ; noi potremo scegliere i nemici, il oampo e '1 memento delle vittorie : i nostri tesori e la nostra situazione ci assicureranno sempre della felicitk della nostre in traprese : i nostri navigli, vittoriosi compariranno sempre innanzi alle coste che non popono essere ne ben custoditi ne ben difese da potenze lontane : i vostri soccorsi guigneranno sempre tardi ; le vostre colonie finalmente, o diverrano le nostre provineie, o spezzeranno le loro catene col soccorso della nostro alleanza che noi non negheremo mai allorchiS ci Sana richiesta dall voce della libertk contra la tirannia. Privi allora deir America, e per conseguenza dell' Asia, che non va in cerca che del nostro argento, voi vitornerete nell' oscurita e nelle barbaria dalla quale siete usciti, e la vostra sola poverty potr^ garantirvi dall nostra guiste ma non profittevoli vendette." — Filangieri, Scienza della Leg., Lib. I. cap. 13. Note 7. — Stanza XXIV. Line 1. " And eye hath seen no sweeter, lovelier view.'' [" The annual foliage had already been changed by the frost. Of the effects of this change, it is, perhaps, impossible for an inhabitant of Great Britain, as I have been assured by several foreigners, to form an adequate conception without visiting an American forest. When I was a youth, I remarked that Thomson had entirely omitted, in his ' Seasons,' this fine part of autumnal scenery. Upon inquiring of an NOTES. 261 English gentleman the probable cause of the omission, he informed me, that no such scenery existed in Great Britain. In this country it is often among the most splendid beauties of Nature. " The leaves of all trees which are not evergreens are changed by the first severe frost from their verdure towards the perfection pf that color which they are capable of ultimately assuming, through yellow, orange, and red, to a pretty deep brown. As the frost affects different trees and different leaves of the same tree in different degrees, a vast multi- tude of tints are commonly found on those of a single tree, and always on- those of a grove or forest. These colors also, in all their varieties, are generally full, and in many instances exquisite. Different sorts of trees are susceptible of different degrees of beauty. Among these the maple is distinguished, by the finished beauty, prodigious variety, and intense lustre of its hues, varying between a rich green and the most perfect crimson Numerous evergreens furnish the backgrouhd of the picture." — Dwight's Travels.'] Note 8. — Stanza XXV. Line 4. " As here, her wild and wondrous iridge survey." You have seen the Natural Bridge, so celebrated by all travellers. There is a tradition there that the feat described in the succeeding lines was performed, and 1 think the name is shown. Note 9. — Stanza XXXII. Line 1. " Another marvel yet, the spar-decked cell." "Weyer's Cave, of which see any of the many florid descriptions, for I remember you did not enter it. Tudor's will answer the purpose as well as any. 262 NOTES. WEYEE'S CAVE, IN VIRGINIA. BY H. TUDOE, ESQ. [From a " Narrative of a Tour in North America."] " Weyer's Cave presents the most extraordinary, splendid, and beau- tiful subterranean exhibition that is perhaps to be seen in any part of the world. The countless myriads of stalactites and petrifactions, of every size, form, and color, from the purest white to the darkest green and brightest vermilion, and from the dimensions of an organ to those of an icicle, exceed all that can be imagined. Many of the numberless chambers contained in it, of which one or two appear nearly as spar- cious as Westminster Hall, are literally hung round with these ghtter- ing spars, presenting, in various places, the most picturesque and fanciful dx-apery of petrified and transparent substances, and remind- ing me, from their gorgeous appearance, and the situation in which they were beheld, of the magical halls of an Arabian enchanter. " Having procured a guide, and a number of boys to carry torches, I entered this fairy palace just as the moon was softly brightening over the blue mountains, which might now have well changed their denom- ination from blue to silver, as the former wm absorbed altogether in the flood of radiant light that was poured down upon them. The entrance to this laboratory of Nature, where she works in silence and secrecy, producing the most enchanting forms and devices, lies on the precipitous side of a hill. It is excavated by an unknown and inartifi- cial process into a thousand chambers and galleries, extending to a length of upwards of half a mile, and of very considerable breadth. Indeed, many of its caverns and recesses have never yet been ex- plored ; and those which are known require a conducting thread to guide the adventurer, as much as did the celebrated Cretan lab- yrinth of ancient story. NOTES. 263 " The chamber which is first entered is called the ' Vestibule,' — being bound, as a faithful narrator, to attend to the classical nomenclature of the place, — and whence you proceed, through a rock of petrifaction, to the ' Dragon's Koom.' Here are perceived numberless and varied formations of stalactites, and a huge, outlandish figure of the same material, emblematical of the poetical personage that gives to the apartment its designation. Winding along a narrow gallery, the ex- ploring visitor descends, by a steep ladder at its extremity, into what is denominated ' Solomon's Temple,' where is beheld a sublime and extraordinary sight, worthy of the illustrious title by which it is named. On one side is exhibited an immense, wave-like incrustation of the most beautifully white and transparent petrifaction, extending from the ceiling to the floor, representing a cascade falling over a precipice, and appearing to have conglaciated in the very act of descent. This is fancifully termed the ' Falls of Niagara ; ' and, associated as it is with the hidden depths of the subterranean world, and lighted up alone by the flickering and lurid glare of torches, impresses the imagination with a sentiment of wonder and superstitious awe. The effect was truly magical and full of interest. Turning to another side of this marvel- lous cavern, is seen ' Solomon's Throne,' elevated to a height, and thrown into a shape, well becoming the imaginary chair of state of a sovereign prince, and forming one entire mass of glittering crystals. Near to it stands ' Solomon's Pillar,' while in an apartment adjoining are beheld ten thousand stalactites suspended from the roof, of various spiral forms, and of a perfectly white color, called by the anti-poetical name of the ' Radish Room.' " Proceeding onward, through a long and winding passage, you ascend by another ladder to what has received the name of the ' Tambourine,' or ' Drum Boom,' decorated with a splendid drapery of crystal work- 264 NOTES. manship, and semipellucid curtains of different hues, spread over the walls like the embellishments of a lady's drawing-room. These were truly admirable, some of them forming, in the loveliest white spar, the appearance of canopies, and others falling in ample sweep from the ceiling to the floor, and exhibiting as graceful and softly-flowing shapes as so many folds of silk. Here are displayed immense sheets of congelations, called the ' Drums,' which, on being struck, emit a sound resembling that of a gong. On leaving these instruments of un- earthly melody, threading other galleries, and surmounting ' Jacob's Ladder,' you pass through the ' Senate-Chamber,' and the ' Music Gallery,' — each presenting a diversified array of gorgeous gems of superhuman fabric, — into ' Washington's Hall,' the most splendid and extensive chamber of the cave. The dimensions of it are very con- siderable, being ninety yards in length, twenty wide, and fifty in height. The spars and crystal formations of this room, if so it may be called, are particularly brilliant, the roof being apparently supported by musical columns ranged along its sides, and which, by passing a stick rapidly over their surface, produce a profusion of singular intona- tions like a ring of bells. ' The Father of his Country ' is here mounted on a superb pedestal of the same transparent mineral, exceeding in brightness the lustre of Parian marble, and might be supposed a second Khadamanthus, descended to the shades below to administer the im- partial justice which he taught and executed in the world above. It struck me that these hints of popular feeling, addressed to the mem- ory of the great hero of the Revolution, might act as a gentle reminis- cence to the senators of a country that he formed, and over which he presided with such devoted patriotism, that the vote which was passed in Congress two years ago, to raise a monument at Washington in honor to its first and most illustrious President, remains to this day a dead letter on the journals of their proceedings. NOTES. 265 " I should be told, perhaps, in answer, that the patriot is embalmed in the grateful recollections of his countrymen, and that he lives in the bright records of his nation's history. All this I grant ; and yet I cannot but think that these recollections must be rather cold, and to a stranger appear somewhat doubtful, when they do not evidence the internal workings of the heart by something of an external and visible form ; which, while it might ornament the capital of a rising empire, would arrest the eye and fix the attention of the young aspi- rant for future fame. Whatever may be said of the generation coeval with the exploits of a chief who has deserved so well of his country, still posterity demands, and the foreigner travelling through the land looks for, some durable and recording memorial of a hero who has at once ennobled and adorned human nature. " If the conqueror in the Olympic Games was crowned with laurel, and had temples and statues erected to his honor, the veteran chief who has laid the foundations of his country's independence and glory merits at least an equal distinction with the contenders in a chariot- race, with boxers, wrestlers, poets, and orators. " Out of respect to the late President's wife, I must not omit to men- tion what is called ' Lady Washington's Drawing-room,' in which is displayed a variety of the most fantastical and beautiful drapery, of a bright green color, edged with white, and hanging in the form of curtains. At a short distance from this, with very appropriate coincidence, lies the ' Diamond Room,' well deserving its title from the extreme brilliancy of its spars, and their close resemblance to these costly ornaments. Continuing my researches, I now pass suc- cessively the ' Pyramids,' ' Pompey's Pillar,' and the ' Falls of the Ganges ; ' and come at length to one of the most gorgeous specimens of petrifaction in the whole cave, standing in 'Jefferson's Hall.' It 12 266 NOTES. is formed of a massive body of spar, that would probably weigh many hundred tons, and is decorated with the most graceful and regular flutings, covering its entire surface. This is denominated the ' Tower of Babel,' and is, without the slightest exaggeration, a truly magnificent piece of natural crystal workmanship. "Passing a very fine incrustation of a silvery brightness, resem- bling the new moon, — being elevated towards the ceiling, and pro- ducing an optical delusion highly interesting, — I now scaled the rugged and slippery rooks of the ' Giant's Causeway.' The object that I proposed to myself, as the reward of my toil, was to see the ' Statue of Bonaparte,' beheld by very few in consequence of its dif- ficult access. This circumstance has operated greatly in its favor, since, by being seldom touched, or tarnished by the smoke of torches, it preserves all its original splendor of color, and presents a snowy whiteness and brilliancy of spar exceeding all the rest. In this respect it was a matchless specimen of the purest and most beautiful crys- tallization. " But it is high time to pause In my description, though I have not given you more than a tithe of the wonders of this gorgeous cave, and which infinitely surpasses everything of a similar nature that I have ever seen elsewhere. In point of interest, though not similarity, it forcibly recalls to my remembrance the superb caves of Ellora, on the plains of Hindostan, in which India's ten thousand gods are en- shrined in colossal stature. You may imagine the absorbing delight that I took in this subterranean research, when I inform you that I remained gazing and exploring for five hours, to the no small surprise of my guide, who told me that few remained so long, or penetrated so far. I entered the cave about seven in the evening, after riding twenty miles, just as the lovely moon was throwing her ' silver mamtle ' NOTES. 267 over the sombre screen of the blue mountains ; and when I came out, her glittering orb had passed the zenith and was fast declining to the western hills. The onlj* apprehension I entertained, during my visit to these darksome regions, was the fear of our lights going out ; a circumstance that was nearly occurring two or three times, when it would have been, I think, physically impossible to have extricated ourselves from the endless galleries, traversing each other, in which we were involved, — more intricate, I should imagine, than even the celebrated labyrinth of Daedalus." Note 10. — Stanza XXXV. Line 1. " These mountains once — so runs the Indian tale." This tradition is said to have been delivered by a Shawnee Indian : — " Ten thousand moons ago, when naught but gloomy forests covered this land of the sleeping sun ; long before the pale men, with thunder and fire at their command, rushed on the wings of the wind to win this garden of nature ; when naught but the untamed wanderers of the woods, and men as unrestrained as they, were the masters of the soil, a race of animals were in being, huge as the frowning precipice, cruel as the bloody panther, swift as the descending eagle, and terrible as the angel of night. The pines crashed beneath their feet, and the lake shrunk when they quenched their thirst. The javelin in vain was hurled, and the barbed arrow fell harmless from their sides. Forests were laid waste at a meal ; the groans of expiring animals were heard, and whole villages of men were destroyed in a moment. The cry of universal distress rose even from the peaceful regions of the West, and the Good Spirit interposed to save the unhappy. The forked lightning flashed, and the loud thunder shook the world. The bolts of 268 NOTES. heaven fell upon the cruel destroyers alone, and the mountains echoed with the bellowings of death. All were killed but one male, the fiercest of the race, and him even the fury of the skies assailed in vain. He chmbed the highest blue summit which shades the source of many waters, and, roaring aloud, bade defiance to every vengeance. The red lightning scorched the lofty firs and rived the knotty oaks, but only glanced on the enraged monster. > At length, maddened with disdain, he leaped over the waves of the west, and at this moment reigns uncontrolled monarch of the wilderness, in despite of Omnipo- tence himself." Note 11. — Stanza XLIV. Line 5. "TAz/ chosen sons in council grave and high." The Convention which framed the present Constitution of Virginia. I witnessed its session, and never saw a deliberative assembly that im- pressed me with greater reverence. Note 12. — Stanza XL VI. Line 6. " Farewell .' I leave thy eulogy to one," &c. [Alluding, it is supposed, to the following sonnet : — SONNET. Thou hast thy faults, Virginia ! yet I own I love thee still, although no son of thine ; For I have climbed thy mountains, not alone. And made the wonders of thy valleys mine ; Finding from morning's dawn to day's decline Some marvel yet unmarked, — some peak whose throne NOTES. 269 Was loftier girt with mist and crowned witli pine, Some deep and rugged glen with copse o'ergrown, The birth of some sweet vale, or mazy line Traced by a silver stream that wandered lone : Or the dark cave where hidden crystals shine. Or the wild arch across the blue sky thrown. Or else those traits of nature more divine Which in some favored child of thine had shone ! ] Note 13. — Stanza LI. Line 1. " Iloved thee, hut thou knew'st it not," &c. These thoughts were many of them suggested by a sonnet of Zappl's. The translation, however, is not literal. Some of your countryman's lines I might despair of imitating ; others, I should deliberately reject. " Nonceroo amor, ma gloria e lode," is ultra-coxcombical Platonism, of which Plato himself would be ashamed. " Ed io non amo in lei quel oh' altri gode," sins on the other side. My own vein, though less rich, is different and deeper. Note 14. — Stanza LIIL Lines 7 and 8. " the music of the spheres. Unheard on earth save by some dreamer's ears." Science will disenchant the world. It seems that aerolites in de- scending make music like an .Slolian harp. This doubtless is the true music of the spheres. If it is not, what is ? [M. Arago, at a recent meeting of the French Academy, communi- cated some particulars of the fall of an aerolite, which happened near 270 NOTES. Utrecht at about eight o'clock on the evening of June 2d. A heavy- detonation was heard to a distance of twelve or fifteen miles, like that of three or four discharges of a cannon, followed by a noise which was compared by the greater part of the persons who heard it to military music on the .Slolian harp. This terrible and extraordinary harmony seemed to proceed from east to west, and continued for two or three minutes, throwing the inhabitants of the neighboring country into great alarm. At the same moment a peasant saw a heavy body fall at a little distance in a meadow. On repairing to the spot, a hole was dis- covered of a conical form, at the bottom of which was found a black stone. This aerolite had penetrated the earth in a vertical direction to the depth of a metre, and its course was arrested by a bed of moist sand. In a quarter of an hour after its fall, it was cold. Its weight was about fifteen pounds. At a little distance were found several others of less size.] Note 15. — Stanza LXV. Line 8. " Well may the living envy them their rest .' " " Invideo quia quieseunt," — the words of Luther in the cemetery of Worms. Note 16. — Stanza LXVIIL — Line 1. " Agnes ! my Agnes once," &c. Before my years numbered thirteen, I was, or fancied myself, en- amored of an innocent and lovely girl, about my own age. Her brother and myself were friends, and she was occasionally the com- panion of our amusements. At length I confessed my affection, and at the same time my fears that want of fortune, and the embarrassments NOTES. 271 of my father, of which I had some vague idea, would be insuperable obstacles to my hopes. She frankly avowed that the attachment was mutual, and, in answer to my doubts, replied, with inexpressible naivete and sweetness : " 1 know nothing of such things, but they tell me my father is rich, — will there not be enough for us aU ? " My destiny soon after threw me far from her, and in a year after- wards she, who was then a woman, while I remained a youth, was united to another. ' More than three lustres elapsed, during which some change took place in my condition ; I saw her, then a widow, and she had utterly forgotten me. But I shall never cease to remember the frank and amiable simplicity of her girlish confession. Note 17. — Stanza LXIX. Line 8. " In shame renounced his fagot, fire, and steel." To the Colony of Maryland belongs the glory of having first incor- porated into her civil code the principle of religious toleration, — with but one exception, the Jews. Nothing is at first perfect. Note 18. — Stanza LXXI. Line 8. " Man's hope and refuge, heacon-light and guide." Richard Henry Lee of Virginia, a man of eminent ability and un- daunted civil courage, was the first to propose explicitly in Congress the Declaration of Independence. Silent astonishment pervaded the assembly for a few moments, when it was broken by the zealous and intrepid eloquence of John Adams. 272 NOTES. Note 19. — Stanza LXXII. Line 5. " To Washington and Henry kneeling there," &c. The scene is thus described in a letter from John Adams, written at the time : — " When the Congress met, Mr. Cushing made a motion that it should be opened with prayer. It was opposed by Mr. Jay of New York, and Mr. Eutledge of South Carolina, because we were so divided in relig- ious sentiments — some Episcopalians, some Quakers, some Presbyteri- ans, some Anabaptists, and some Congregationalists — that we could not join in the same act of worship. Mr. Samuel Adams arose and said that he was no bigot, and could hear a prayer from any gentleman of piety and virtue, who was at the same time a friend to his country. He was a stranger in Philadelphia, but had heard that Mr. Duche (Dushay they pronounced it) deserved that character, and therefore he moved that Mr. Duchd, an Episcopal clergyman, might be desired to read prayers to the Congress to-morrow morning. The motion was seconded and passed in the affirmative. Mr. Randolph, our President, waited on Mr. Duche, and received for answer, that if his health per- mitted he certainly would. " Accordingly, next morning he appeared with his clerk, and his pon- tificals, and read several prayers in the established form, and then read the Collect for the seventh day of September, which was the thirty- fifth Psalm. You must remember this was the morning after we had heard of the rumor of the horrible cannonade of Boston. It seemed as if Heaven had ordained that Psalm to be read that morning. " After this, Mr. Duch^, unexpectedly to everybody, struck out into an extemporary prayer, which filled the bosom of every man present. I must confess I never heard a better prayer, or one so well pro- NOTES. 273 nounced. Episcopalian as he is, Dr. Cooper himself never prayed with such fervor, such ardor, such correctness and pathos, and in language so elegant and sublime, for America, for Congress, for the Province of Massachusetts Bay, and especially the town of Boston. It had an ex- cellent effect upon everybody here. I must beg you to read the Psalm. If there is any faith in the Sortes VirgilianEE or Homericse, or espe- cially the Sortes Biblicae, it would be thought providential ! " Here was a scene for a painter ! The place of assemblage was Carpenter's Hall, in Philadelphia, which still survives in its original condition, though now desecrated into an auction mart. Washington was kneeling there, and Henry, Randolph, and Rutledge, and Jay, and by their side there stood in reverence the Puritan patriots of New England, who had every reason to believe that an armed soldiery were at that moment wasting their homes, and dispers- ing their families. Who can describe the emotions with which they turned imploringly to Heaven for aid ? " It was enough," says Mr. Adams, " to melt the hardest heart. I saw tears gush into the eyes of the old, grave, pacific Quakers of Philadelphia." Note 20. — Stanza LXXVIII. Line 1. " And other fields since (hen in foreign lands" &c. This and some of the succeeding stanzas were added since I stood upon the battle-grounds of Lodi, Marengo, Pavia, W^aterloo, &c. They were suggested by a passage in Gibbon, but I have borrowed freely from Bulwer's " Devereux.'' That I have done no injustice to the new Huns and Scythians, by grouping them with the old, is attested by all history. I vouch Gibbon as one of the most elegant and sententious of many witnesses : — 12* E 274 NOTES. " The experience of eleven centuries has enabled posterity to pro- duce a much more singular parallel, and to affirm with confidence that the ravages of the Barbarians led by Alaric from the banks of the Danube were less destructive than the hostilities exercised by the troops of Charles the Fifth, a Catholic prince, who styled himself Emperor of the Romans. The Goths evacuated the city at the end of six days, but Home remained above nine months in the possession of the Imperialists; and every hour was stained by some atrocious act of cruelty, lust, and rapine." — Decline and Fall, Chap. XXXI. Gibbon, it is evident, had no great faith in our hereditary barharic virtues. After describing some of the cruelties of the Huns under Attila, subsequent to the battle of Chalons, he says : " Such were those savage ancestors, whose imaginary virtues have sometimes exercised the praise and envy of civilized ages." (Vol. VI. p. 122.) On this subject, the struggle between Turner's national pride and historical impartiality is truly amusing. He describes the Pagan Sax- ons as savages, endowed with the most goodly stock of vices that Europe and Asia could furnish forth ; yet he first claims for them, on doubtful authority, a superiority over the North American Indians (Vol. I. pp. 61, 120), and then insists that the Anglo-Saxon invasion of Britain must not be contemplated as a barbarization of the country ! (Ibid, p. 149.) What a pity the Danish blood had not mixed more largely with the pure Anglo-Saxon ! The Vikingr and Berserkir might have had ample justice done to their virtues by the learned and amiable his- torian ; for if the invasion of the Saxons is not to be considered " a bar- barization of the country,'' why that of the Danes ? or that of the Normans, descendants of these same Northmen and Vikingrs, and as- cendants of all the noble blood of Britain that can claim them ? And yet Thierry pretty clearly makes out the Norman Conquest to have NOTES. 275 been " a barbarization," and Turner himself admits the Danish inva- sions to a like evil distinction, I have scribbled this long note to gratify your Italian pride ; but do not you add one word against us tramontane, or still worse transmarine barbarians, or I shall twit you with your national origin. " Grecia Mendax " holds good after two thousand years. Our old Greek and Trojan quarrels, you perceive, live in their ashes. Note 21. — Stanza LXXIX. Lines 7 and 8. " TIioii sole Barbarian Demon yet unhurled From out the Heaven that rules a Christian world ! " " The Gods of the Gentile are Demons." — St. Jerome. Note 22. — Stanza LXXX. Lines 7 and 8. " Men prize their life above the costliest gem, Yet justly worship all who slaughter them ! " " It is a great mistake to suppose that mankind in. the aggregate have not a just and lively sense of their own merits, — they worship those that slaughter them." I remember to have seen somewhere the above very savage and truculent aphorism, which it might be dangerous to steal, and whereof I have no ambition to appear the inventor. Note 23. — Stanza LXXXIX. Line 5. " Star of all human Destinies" &c. The worship of the Sword is one of the most ancient and widely dif- fused forms of idolatry. " It was natural enough,'' says Gibbon, " that the Scytliians should 276 NOTES. * adore with peculiar devotion tlie God of War ; but as they were inca- pable of forming either an abstract idea, or a corporeal representation, they worshipped their tutelar deity under the symbol of an iron scymitar. " One of the shepherds of the Huns perceived that a heifer, who was grazing, had wounded herself in the foot, and curiously followed the track of the blood, till he discovered among the long grass the point of an ancient sword, which he dug out of the ground and presented to Attila. That magnanimous, or rather that artful prince, accepted with pious gratitude this celestial favor, and, as the rightful possessor of the sword of Mars, asserted Ms divine and indefeasible claim to the dominion of the Earth." — Decline and Fall, Chap. 34. Luciau tells us that the Scythians adored a sword (Jup. Trag.), which Herodotus also mentions as their emblem of Mars, to whom thej- sac- rificed a portion of their prisoners. Ammianus says : " Nee templum apud eos visitur aut delubrum, ne tugurium quidem culmo tectum cerni usquam potest : sed gladius Bar- barico ritu humi figitur nudus, eumque ut Martem regionum quas cir- cumcirant prsesulem verecundius colunt." — Amm. Marckll. XXXI. Irmensul, the great Saxon idol, was the figure of an armed warrior. I spare you a minute account of him and Odin, as well as of Scythian customs, such as scalping their enemies, drinking their blood, and making cups out of their skulls. For these, as well as their moral virtues, I refer you to Turner dnd Gibbon, from whom I have copied the foregoing.* You would not have me blaspheme the memories, as well as the gods, of my forefathers ? " The Scythio warrior of Central Asia," says Tod, " the intrepid * Decline and Fall, Chap. 34. Turner, Hist. Ang. Sax., Vol. I. pp. 62-63, 132, 265, 2ri, Paris ed. NOTES. 277 Gete, admitted no meaner representative of tlie God of Battle than his own scymitar. He worshipped it, he swore by it, it was buried with him If we look from this central land of the earliest civili- zation to Dacia, Thrace, Pannonia, the seats of the Thyssagetse, or western Getes, we find the same form of adoration addressed to the emblem of Mars, as mentioned by Xenophon in his memorable retreat, and practised by Attila and his Goths, centuries afterwards, in the Acropolis of Athens. If we transport ourselves to the shores of Scan- dinavia, amongst the Cimbri and Getes of Jutland, to the Ultima Thule, wherever the name of Gete prevails we shall find the same adoration paid by the Getic warrior to his sword " Whether Charlemagne addressed his sword as Joyeuse,* or the Scandinavian hero Argantyr as the enchanted blade (Hialmar's bane), each came from one common origin, the people which invented the custom of Karga Shapna, or adoration of the sword. But neither the falchion made by the dwarfs for Suafurlama, nor the redoubtable sword of Bayard, with which he dubbed the first Francis, — not even the enchanted brand of Ariosto's hero, can for a moment compare with the double-edged (khanda) scymitar annually worshipped by the chiv- alry of Mewar." — Annals and Antiquities of Eajast'han, by Lieut.-Col. James Tod, Vol. I. p. 683. The author describes the ceremonies with true military enthusiasm, (pp. 584 - 588,) and says elsewhere : — " The worship of the sword in the Acropolis of Athens by the Getic Attila, with all the accompaniments of pomp and place, forms an ad- mirable episode in the history of the decline and fall of Eome ; and had Gibbon witnessed the worship of the double-edged sword (khanda) * St. Pelaye, Mem. Clhiv., p. SOS. 278 NOTES. by the Prince of Mdwar, with all his chivalry, he might have embel- lished even his animated account of the adoration of the scjTnitar, the symbol of Mars.'' — Ibid., p. 75. If I seem with true Barbaric fondness to dwell on the praises of the Sword, and especially its interpretations of Justice and Keligion, I am not without authority : — " Injustum rigido jas dicitur ense," according to Ovid, was true of my Gothic forefathers, and was certainly a most convenient system for those who, according to the same wit- ness, " Quae sibi non rapto vivere turpe putaut." Devotion to weapons, and the habit of going always armed, seem to be natural Barbaric virtues. Plutarch, as a specimen of Athenian man- ners in the time of Solon, says all went armed to the theatre, and some of my Western countrymen are in that respect quite as far advanced in civilization as Goth, or Greek, or Turk. " Dextera non signis fixo dare vulnera cultro Quern vinotum lateri bavbarus omnis habet." Ovid, Ti-ist, Lib. V. El. 7. While upon the chapter of Swords, I must not forget that celebrated in the old Saxon poem of Beowulf, in which were written the battles of ancient times, when, after the flood, the race of giants were destroyed. On the polished blade, in pure gold, the runce letters were marked. As to its theological authority, " In hoc signo vinces " of the Great Constantine will hardly be denied ; and in another instance, " the sword of Charlemagne," says Gibbon, " added weight to the argu- ment." (Chap. 3 7.) Nor are these examples solitary. In the Arian controversy, " The- NOTES. 279 odosius was still inexorable ; but as the angels who protected the Catholic cause were only visible to the eyes of faith, he prudently re- enforced those heavenly legions with the more effectual aid of temporal and carnal weapons : and the Church of St. Sophia was occupied by a large body of the Imperial Guards." — Vol V. Ch. 28. After the conversion of steel to Christianity, the cross-handled sword of the Crusader was a special object of devotion : sticking its point in the earth, it became a crucifix, and he prayed before it ; in his most solemn form of adjuration he swore upon it. Nay, it gave out oracles. Hear what is said by your own Giannone, not suspected of believing more than the Church ordains. I quote him to you in the French translation, not having the original at hand : — " L'anonime de Salerne, que Baronius a injustement traite dans quel- ques circonstances d'auteur fabuleux, mais dont on ne sauroit k la verite defendre les puerilitds et les petitesses, cet anonime rapporte qu'Arechis, etant encore simple particulier, il lui arriva une chose etonnante, et qu'Jl ee sujet on lui prddisit la nouvelle dignite de Prince h laquelle il devoit etre Aeve. H pretend qu'Arechis encore dans sa jeunesse se trouva avec le Due Luitprand et un grand nombre de Barons Lombards 'dans I'dglise de I'ancienne Capoue, tous arm^s de leur epee suivant leur coutume ; que chacun d'eux ^tant occupe a faire des priferes, Areohis reoitoit a voix basse le Miserere, et comme il pron9ait ces mots, ' Spiritu principali confirma me,' il sentit que toute son ep^e remuait comme si quelqu'un I'eut agitee ; I'oraison finie, Arechis encore saisi de peur informa ses amis de ce qui lui etoit arrive ; sur quoi I'un d'entr'eux considere comme le plus capable, lui dit : ' Autant que je puis le prevoir, avant que tu quittes cette vie le seigneur I'elevera h une dignite eminente. L'evenement justifia la vdrit^ de cette prediction dit l'anonime, puis qu'apres la mort de Luitprand 280 NOTES. tous les suffrages se reunirent pour proolamer Areohis Prince d« Benevent et I'eldver k une si illustre dignite.' " A wortliy predecessor of Talleyrand I The spontaneous clang of swords or armor is an old and well-known superstition. That of Korner stirs in its scabbard with impatience foi the battle : — " Was klirrst du in der Scheide Du helle Eisenfreude ? So wild, 50 sohlachtenfroh ? Mein Sohwert ! was klirrst du so ? Hurrah ! " WoU klirr' ich in der Scheide loh sehne mich zum Streite Reoht wild und sohlachtenfroh, Drum, Reiter klirr' ich so ! Hurrah!" The armor of Douglas rang to announce the approach of an enemy. But you will cry " Quarter ! " and even the Sword sometimes grants it. Note 24. — Stanza XCV. Line 1. " My task is done ! Lightnwg Tias set its seal," &c. While correcting for the press a speech, which has since acquired some celebrity, the house I inhabited was struck by lightning. The fluid descended the chimney, scattered the fire-irons, and filled the room with soot and ashes, traces of which remain upon passages of the manuscript, since become a frequent theme of schoolboy declamation. NOTES TO CANTO III. Note 1. — Stanza XVIII. Line 8. " And Kosciusko's column, house, and name." [The life of Kosciusko is one continued romance. A nobleman of good family, but poor, his talents recommended him to the king, by whom he was employed in the army. Early in life lie became enam- ored of a beautiful girl, wbo returned his affection. Her relations opposed the match on account of his poverty, and the parties eloped to France ; but being overtaken by her father, a fierce encounter ensued. When Kosciusko found he must either surrender his beloved, or take the life of her parent, humanity prevailed, and he relinquished the young lady in despair. This unfortunate adventure drove him to America. After the peace, he returned to his own country, where his bravery, his sufferings, and his struggles for Polish liberty are well known. Subsequently he revisited America, was hospitably received and rewarded, and lived and died at West Point. A column has been erected there to his memory by the Cadets of the Military Academy.] Note 2. — Stanza XIX. Line 1 . " From CatskUl's steep, look down upon a scene." [From a height of three thousand feet, we behold a part of the 282 NOTKS. counties of Albany, Greene, Ulster, and Orange, on the west side of the Hudson ;' a part of the county of Putnam, and the whole of Duchess, Columbia, and Kensselaer on the east ; together with a part of Berk- shire in Massachusetts, and Litchfield in Connecticut, lying in full view beneath us. The whole area of vision is more than one hundred miles in length, and not far from fifty in breadth. This vast field is formed by the great valley of the Hudson, north of the Highlands, and a more distinct and perfect view of an extensive and magnificent landscape can hardly be imagined. The western side is much of it in forest. The eastern, beautifully diversified with farms, groves, and villages. The Hudson is seen for more than fifty miles, covered with a multi- tude of sloops and steamers, diminished to black or white specks on a silver thread of water, and the towns of Catskill and Hudson appear directly under us." — Dwight's Travels.'] Note 3. — Stanza XXI. Line 8. " While Riedesel's and Ackland's names survive ! " [See Warren's " History of American Revolution," Vol. H. p. 30, and Lady Harriet Ackland's letters.] Note 4. — Stanza XXH. Line 1. " Lake George, Crown Point, Montcalm! — each word a theme," &c. [The scenery of Lake George is celebrated for its beauty, but all descriptions of scenery fail to convey distinct impressions of the land- scape. Still the reader who has not visited it may desire to know something of its appearance, and I have therefore put together such scraps of information as may satisfy his curiosity. NOTES. 283 Its length is thirty-four miles, its greatest breadth four. The access from the south is the finest, being formed of two mountain ranges, which commence south of Fort George, and extend beyond Plattsburg, a distance of about 100 mUes. The shores are bold, rugged, and covered with forest trees ; the water so pure and transparent, that rocks and pebbles are dis- tinctly seen at the depth of five or six fathoms, and the fish seem to float in air. Under the bright sun and clear sky of Autumn, the beauty and splendor of the scenery is enhanced by ceaseless variations of light and shade, the purple hue of the water, and the rich diversity of the forest foliage, in which all the shades of green, red, yellow, orange, and brown are felicitously blended. " On the evening of Friday, the 1st of October," says an American traveller, " while we were returning from Ticonderoga, we were pre- sented with the most beautiful prospect that I ever beheld. An open- ing lay before us between the mountains on the west, and those on the east, gilded by the departing sunbeams. The lake, alternately glassy and gently rippled, of a light and exquisite sapphire, gay and brilliant with the tremulous lustre already mentioned floating on its surface, stretched in prospect to a vast distance, through a great variety of larger or smaller apertures. In the chasm formed by the mountains lay a multitude of islands, difiering in size, shape, and foliage. Beyond them, and often partly hidden behind the tall and variously figured trees, with which they were tufted, rose in the west and southwest a long range of distant mountains, tinged with a deep, misty azure, and crowned with an immense succession of. lofty pines. Above the moun- tains, and rising one over another, were extended, in great numbers, long, streaming clouds of the most exquisite forms, tinged with all the diversities of red and orange light. Between them the sky was illu- 284 NOTES. minated with a vivid yellow lustre. The tall trees on the western mountains lifted their heads in the crimson glory, and on the back- ground displayed their endless variety of outline with a distinctness never surpassed." — Dwight's Travels.} Note 5. — Stanza XXVI. Line 3. " Love was my inspiration," &c. The reference in this and the foregoing stanzas is to Gerard Dow's portrait pf himself, which is, or was, in the gallery at Brussels. Whether the poetic conception in question entered into Gerard's head or not, as he was painting the portrait, I cannot tell. It certainly did into mine as I was looking at it. What say you, — is the first thought mine, or his ? Note 6. — Stanza XXVIII. Line 1. " It IS Niagara," &c. I need not ask you if you remember the first impression made by Niagara, — who ever forgets ? All descriptions of this overwhelming wonder differ, — and all fail. Yet in some things they agree. The awe-struck suspension, not only of utterance, but almost of thought, as if the intellect itself was lost in the abyss, — the frantic longing inspired by the roaring waters, — the one long, absorbing revery into which we sink when the violence of our emotions subsides, — these are acknowledged by all who see and feel. Note 7, — Stanza XXXVIL The legends, both Indian and civilized, I piously believe are true. The latter, indeed, is the mere story of a fact which happened in our NOTES. 285 own day ; and the memory of the former is preserved traditionally among old settlers. [A correspondent of the " Rochester Observer " relates the following account of a wonderful escape : — " I had just arrived at the Falls of Niagara, on Monday of last week, when a canal-boat was discovered floating down the centre of the rapids, about two miles above the cataract. It was soon observed that there were persons on board, who gave evidence of distress and alarm. The facts, as obtained by the writer from two of the persons on board, are nearly as follows. " The boat belonged to the Welland Canal, and received freight from the Canada shore. The master of the boat. Captain Kheen, was sick on board, and entirely unable to take charge of her. The man- agement was intrusted to a man, a boy of seventeen, and a girl about the same age. From some carelessness in attaching the tow-rope to the horse, it gave way when the boat was about three miles above the Falls. They soon perceived that they were not only floating fast from the shore, but drifting rapidly downwards. They lost an oar and could not reach the bottom with their setting-poles. Consternation seized the crew as they saw on one hand the American shore, two miles off, and on the other the Canadian, half that distance, and fast receding, while a mile and a half below rose the smoke of the Cataract. " All was confusion, — the man, the only efficient hand, resolved to save himself, plunged overboard, and swam for the Canada shore, taking a diagonal course downwards, hoping to land above the falls. He was discovered from the shore, and, at great risk to the person who rescued him, taken from the river just at breaking of the water. " After he left the boat, the boy and young woman determined on another effort, and raised a sail, hoping that the almost imperceptible 286 NOTES. breeze miglit drive them so far towards the American side as to land them on Goat Island. Their mast consisted of a setting-pole placed in the stove-pipe, to which they attached blankets for sails. They floated so far towards the American shore, that they were taken from the boat by six men who ventured in a skiff to their relief, although they were so near the Falls that the water had become very rough. The whole circumstances, as related by the young man, were deeply affecting."] Note 8. — Stanza XXXIX. ■' See, too, the ravening whirlpool's sateless maw." [The bodies of a number of seamen, killed in the battle of Lake Erie, floated over the falls of Niagara, and were caught in the whirlpool which is some miles below. There they continued for a long time to be whirled round, rising and sinking successively, and agitated in a shocking manner by the movement of the boiling waters.] Note 9. — Stanza XLI. Line 8. " The spots where Wolfe, Montcalm, Montgomery fell." Seldom has so small a space given graves to so many heroes. Of these, Montcalm was probably the most accomplished soldier and states- man ; Wolfe more fortunate, but less skilful ; and Montgomery equally unskilful and unfortunate. He nevertheless criticised both his pre- decessors, and it is doubtless true, as he says, that Wolfe's success was owing to a series of lucky accidents. But in war, especially, the adage of the wise ancient is always applicable, — " Fortune and I against any other two." His blame of Montcalm's sally, though adopted by historians down to the present moment, is far more questionable. NOTES. 287 We are accustomed to think of the French position as it has since been made, almost impregnable. Apparently it was then far otherwise. This, therefore, may have been one of the cases in which far-sighted and strong-nerved sagacity passed for rashness or prudence, according to the issue. The reputation of Montcalm is stained by the excesses of his red allies, whose cruelty he could not check without losing his influence over them. He sacrificed humanity to advantage, on the Devil's plea of necessity. Wolfe and Montgomery's names are, I believe, spotless. But this has little to do with military talent, which alone 1 am considering, and one of the gallant Marquess's own letters contains his best defence. It exhibits, also, a specimen of foresight singularly prophetic, and shows Montcalm to have been a profound politician, as well as an able gen- eral. Mahquess de Montcalm to M. de Mole', Fikst President OF THE PaBLIAMENT OF PaKIS. Dear Cousin : — For more than three months Mr. Wolfe has been hanging on my hands. He bombards Quebec night and day, with a fury of which scarcely an example can be found in the siege of a place, which the enemy wishes to take and preserve. Their artillery has already destroyed almost all the lower town, and a great part of the upper has been demolished by their shells ; but although not one stone should be left upon another, they can never carry their point while they are con- tent to attack us from the opposite shore, which we have abandoned. After three months they are no further advanced with the sie^e than they were the first day. They ruin us, but do not profit them- 288 NOTES. selves. The campaign cannot last above a month longer, on accour of the approach of Autumn, which is terrible to a fleet in these seas, i the winds blow constantly periodically, and with great fury. It woul seem then, after such a happy prelude, that the Colony is not in muc danger. Nothing, however, is less certain. The taking of Quebe depends on one masterly stroke. The English are masters pf th river : they have only to effect a landing on that part of it where th city is unfortified and defenceless. They are in a condition to give u battle, which I must not refuse, and cannot hope to gain. Genera AVolfe, indeed, if he understands his business, has only to receive ou first fire, and then, advancing briskly on my army, and giving on heavy and general discharge, my Canadians, undisciplined, deaf to th sound of the drum and other military instruments, and thrown int disorder by the slaughter, will no longer keep their ranks. Besides they have no bayonets to make good their ground against those of th enemy. Nothing remains for them but to run, and thus I shall b totally defeated. Such is my situation, — a situation most grievous to a general, am which indeed gives me many bitter moments. The confidence I hav in these views has induced me always to act on the defensive, whicl has hitherto succeeded : but will it succeed in the end ? The even must decide. But of one thing be certain, I shall not survive the los of the Colony. There are situations in which it only remains to general to fall with honor. Such this appears to me ; and on thi point posterity shall not reproach my memory, though Fortune ma decide on my opinions. These are truly French, and shall be so eve in the grave, — if in the grave we are anything. I shall at least consol myself on my defeat and the loss of the Colony, by the full persuasio that this defeat will one day serve my country more than a victor NOTES. 289 and that the conqueror in aggrandizing himself will find his tomb in the country he gains from us. "WTiat I have here advanced, my dear cousin, ■will appear to you par- adoxical ; but a moment's political reflection, a single glance upon the situation of affairs in America, and the truth of my opinion must ap- pear. No, my dear cousin, men obey only Force and Necessity : they submit when armies sufficient to control them are before their eyes, or when the chain of their destiny reminds them of the law. Beyo'nd this they yield to no yoke ; they act for themselves, because nothing external or internal compels them to give up that liberty which is the greatest ornament and privilege of human nature. Scrutinize man- kind, and the English above all, who, whether from education or sen- timent, are on this point more men than others. Constraint displeases them ; they must breathe free and unconfined air, or they are out of their element. But if this is the genius of the English of Europe, it is still more so with those of America. A great part of these Colonists are the children of those men who emigrated from England when their rights and privileges were attacked in that country, then torn by dis- sensions. They went to America in search of a land where they could die free and almost independent, and their children have not degen- erated from the republican principles of their fathers. Others there are, enemies to all restraint and submission, whom the government has transported thither for their crimes. Lastly, there are others, a collection from the different nations of Europe, who in their hearts care very little for England. All in general have no great attachment to either King or Parliament. I know them well : not from the report of strangers, but from con- fidential information, and secret correspondence, which I myself man- aged, and which, if God spare my life, I will one day turn to the advan- 13 S 290 NOTES. tage of my country. To add to tlieir happiness, the planters hav( attained a very flourishing condition : they are numerous and rich they enjoy in the bosom of their country all the necessaries of life. England has been so weak and foolish as to suffer them to establisl arts, trade, and manufactures, and thereby enabled them to break th< chain of necessity, that bound them to and made them dependent or her. All the English Colonies would long since have shaken off the yoke, and each Province formed itself into a little independent republic if the fear of seeing the French at their door had not been a checl upon them. Master for master, they prefer their own countrymen their favorite maxim, however, being to obey as little as possible. Bui when Canada shall be conquered, and the Canadians and these Colonies become one people, on the first occasion when England stikes a bloTi at their interest, do you believe, my dear cousin, that they will submit ' And what would they have to fear from a revolt ? Could England senc an army of a hundred or two hundred thousand men to oppose then at such a distance ? It is true she possesses a fleet, and the towns of North America, few in number, are all open, without citadels or fortifi- cations, and a small naval force in their ports would suffice to keej them in their duty. But the interior of the country, an object of mucl greater importance, — who would attempt its conquest, over rooks lakes, rivers; woods, and mountains, intersecting it in , all directions where a handful of men acquainted with the ground would suffice tc destroy the greatest armies ? Besides, should the planters be able to bring the savages into theii interests, the English, with all their fleets, might be masters of the sea, but I doubt whether they could ever make good a landing Add to this, that, in case of a general revolt, all the powers of Eu rope, secret and jealous enemies of England, would assist them, firs' privately and then openly, to throw off the yoke. NOTES. 291 I must confess, however, that England, with a little policy, might always keep a resource to assist in bringing her Colonies to reason. Canada considered in itself, its riches, forces, and population, is noth ing compared to the English Colonies. But the valor, industry, and fidelity of its inhabitants so well supply the place of numbers, that for more than an age they have fought with advantage against the Colonies. Ten Canadians are a match for a hundred English Colo- nists. Daily e.Kperience shows this to be a fact. If England after conquering Canada knew how to attach it to her by policy and kind- ness, and to reserve it to herself alone, — if she left the inhabitants their religion, laws, and language, their customs and ancient form of government, — Canada, separated in every respect from the other Colonies, would never enter into their views or interests, were it from the difference of religion alone. But this is not the policy of Britain. If the English make a conquest, they are sure to change the consti- tution of the country, and introduce their own laws, customs, and religion, which they impose, at least, under the pain of disquali- fication for office. A persecution more intolerable than torments, because it attacks men's pride and ambition, while tortures affect only life, which these passions often make us despise. In a word, are you conquered by Englishmen, you must become Englishmen ! But ought not the English to remember that the heads of men are not all alike, much less their minds ? Ought they not to perceive that laws should, be suitable to climates and the manners of the peo- ple, and prudently varied according to circumstances V Each country has its own trees, fruits, and riches. To transport the fruits of Eng- land thither would be an unpardonable folly. It is the same with their laws, which ought to be adapted to the climate, on which men themselves so much depend. This is a policy which the English do 292 NOTES. not understand. Or rather, they understand it well (for they havi the reputation of a thinking people), but they cannot adopt it fron the defects of their own constitution. Upon this account Canada, once taken by the English, would ii a few years suffer much from being forced to become English. Thu; would the Canadians be transformed into politicians, merchants, ant men infatuated with a pretended liberty, which among the populace of England often sinks into licentiousness and anarchy. Farewel then to their valor, simplicity, generosity, respect for authority farewell to their /rugality, obedience, fidelity; they would soon b( of no use to England, — perhaps even oppose her. I am so clear in what I assert, that I would not give more thai ten years after the conquest of Canada to see it accomplished. See then what now consoles me, as a Frenchman, for the immineni danger my country runs of losing this Colony ; but as a general I wil! do my best to preserve it. The King my master orders me to do so that is sufficient. You know we are of that blood which w.as always faithful to our kings, and it is not for me to degenerate from the virtues of my ancestors. I send you these reflections, that, if the fate of arms in Europe should ever oblige us to bend and receive the law, you may make such use of them as your love of countrj may direct. I have the honor to be. My dear cousin, Your most humble servant, MONTCALM. Camp before Quebec, August 24, 1759. NOTES. 293 Note 10. — Stanza XLII. Line 1. " Back to my country, hy thy tide, Champlain ! " Lake Champlain was celebrated in burlesque Sapphic, as early as 1761, by Captain Morris, a friend of Lieutenant (afterward General) Montgomery. How different the thoughts and images it then sug- gested ! Imitation op Horace's ;' Otium Divos." Ease is the prayer of him who in a whale-boat, Crossing Lake Champlain, by a storm 's o'ortaken, Not struck his blanket,* nor a friendly island Near to receive him. Ease is the wish, too, of the sly Canadian ; Ease the delight of bloody Cahnawagas ; ' Ease, Richard, Ease, not to be bought with wampum Nor paper money. Not colonel's pay, nor yet a dapper sergeant Orderly waiting with recovered halbert. Can chase the crowd of troubles still surrounding Laced regimentals. That sub lives best who, with sash in tatters, Worn by his grandsire at the fight of Blenheim, To fear a stranger and to wild ambition, Snores on a bear-skin. * The .soldier's blanket, used by the army as a sail. 294 NOTES. Why like fine fellows are we ever scheming ? AVhy, short-lived mortals, why so fond of climates Warmed by new suns ? O who that runs from home can Run from himself too ? Care climbs rideaux* with four-and-twenty pounders, Nor quits our light troops, or our Indian warriors. Swifter than moose-deer, or the fleeter east wind Driving the clouds on. He whose good humor can enjoy the present Scorns to look forward ; with a smile of patience Temp'ring the bitter. Bliss uninterrupted None can inherit. Death instantaneous hurried off Achilles, Age, far extended, wore away Tithonus ; Who will live longer, thou or I, Montgomery ? Dicky or Tommy? Thee twenty messmates, full of noise and laughter. Cheer with their sallies ; thee the merry damsels Please with their tittering ; while thou slt'st adorned with Boots, sash, and gorget. Me to Fort Hendrick, 'midst a savage nation. Dull Canajohary, cruel fate has driven : O think on Morris, in a lonely chamber. Dabbling in Sapphic ! * Floating batteries used on Lake Champlain. NOTES. 295 Note 11. — Stanza LI. Line 5. " The chosen star of ruins stitl she seems ! " " La lune est I'astre des ruincs " — Corinne, Lib. XV. Cliap. 4. Note 12. — Stanza LII. Line 1. " Mark where the avalanche's track lies waste." ["A family who lived in the White Mountains, in 1826, -warned by the fall of one or two avalanches, caused as it was supposed by the drought of two seasons followed by drenching rains, had prepared a place of retreat a short distance off, and, alarmed by a tremendous sound one night, rushed from their beds, and were probably making their way to their supposed safe asylum, when they found a watery grave. The house they deserted escaped injury, but no one was left aKve to tell the tale. The sun, as it rose upon the spot next day, was the only witness of the ravages of the storm. " The Saco had risen within a few yards of the house, and on the other side two avalanches had come down. One, proceeding with a tremendous roar towards the dwelling, was turned to the south by a slight irregularity in the ground, but had rolled large rocks and trunks of trees within three feet of the walls, which, however, escaped injury. The other took the garden and the barn in its track, and left not a vestige of them behind. The hut the inhabitants had prepared as a retreat would have afforded no refuge ; it was covered by a lake which arose in a few moments, while some of the domestic animals who retreated from the barn found safety in the house which had been deserted. The calculations of prudence were set at naught by the war of elements. Such a mass of ruin strews the valley, and so incredible 296 NOTES. has been the dilapidation of the mountains, that we are at a loss conjecture what number of ages could ever restore the scene to former appearance, and despair of communicating by description a idea of its present condition. " Not this alone, but nearly a hundred other avalanches, have chs nelled these mountains, sweeping off every tree from their summits, a tearing away the soil, leaving exposed cheerless ridges of granite, d titute of shrub or grass." — Sketches of Scenery and Manners in i United States.'] Note 13. — Stanza LV. Lines 7 and 8. " Thou mystery of mysteries, to Thee How all things tend, when most they strive to flee ! " "Dum fata fugimus, ineurrimus.'' — Buchanan. Note 14. — Stanza LIX. Lines 7 and 8. " That thou alone art Wise, Just, First and Last, — And naught heyond thy power — except the Past." " I think, indeed, that Destiny is nothing else but God, so called frc his unchangeableness." — Aristot. " Oifjat 8e Ka\ rrjv 'AvciyKrjV ovk aK\6 Ti \eyca-6ai, n\r)v tovtov ola\ axlvrjTov mmav ovra." — Hepl KocTjiov, 0. 7. He adds, that the ^'Three Fates meant the Past, the Present, and t Future." Note 15. — Stanza LXVI. Line 1. " There is a cave New Haven, in thy rock." The cavern of Goffe and Whalley near New Haven. Their sto NOTES. 297 is somewhat difficult to treat. Ko American can be expected to sym- pathize with Charles Stuart, and yet, whatever admiration we may argue ourselves into for the stern enthusiasm and obstinate zeal of the Kegieides, " the heart refuses to acknowledge some of the conclusions of the understanding.'' Do you recognize the expression ? [Goffe and Whalley afterwards resided during fifteen or sixteen years in the house of the Rev. Mr. Russell of Hadley. Whalley died there. The following story is traditional among the inhabitants of that place : — " During King Philip's War, which threatened the very existence of the Colony, the 1st of September, 1675, was observed as a day of fasting and prayer. While the people of Hadley were in church, and engaged in worship, they were surprised by a band of savages. The men instantly betook themselves to arms, which, according to the cus- tom of the times, they had taken with them to church, and, rushing out, attacked their invaders. The panic under which they began the conffict was, however, so great, and their number so disproportioned to that of the enemy, that they fought doubtfully at first, and then be- gan to give way. At this moment an aged man with hoary locks, of a most venerable and dignified aspect, and in a dress differing widely from that of the inhabitants, apjpeared suddenly at their head, and with a firm voice, and example of undaunted resolution, reanimated their spirits, led them again to the conflijt, and totally routed the savages. When the battle was ended the stranger had disappeared. The relief was so timely, so sudden, so unexpected, and so providential; the ap- pearance and the retreat of him who furnished it so unaccountable, his persoh so dignified and Commanding, his resolution so neroic, and his interference so decisive, that the inhabitants, without any uncommon 13* 298 NOTES. degree of credulity, readily believed him to be an angel sent 1 Heaven for their preservation. Nor was this opinion seriously contr verted until it was discovered, several years afterwards, that Gofi and Whalley had been sheltered in the house of Mr. Russell. Th( it was known their deliverer was Goffe. Whalley had become supe annuated before the event took place." — Dwight's Travels. [This incident has been interwoven by Cooper in his novel, " Tl Wept of the Wish-ton- wish.'' Note 16. — Stanza LXVII. Line 1. " How hore they in this solitude quick thought." Do not think I would pry with uncharitable conjecture into tl very souls of the unfortunate. What nlortal escapes Remorse " Their lives were miserable and constant burdens," says Stiles, the ardent admirer, and laborious, but confused and heavy, biographi and vindicator. It is greatly to be lamented that Goffe's journals and papers, whi( Stiles saw in the possession of Governor Hutchinson, were destroye His Diary would have added another chapter to the moral anaton of the human heart. The soliloquies of an exile, a patriot, and regicide could not be without instruction. Note 17. — Stanza LXVH. Line 8. ^' Unfit for slaves, — unable to he free." " Nee totam libertatem, nee totam servitutem pati possunt." — Taci' Note 18. — Stanza LXIX. Line 8. " In every clime the brave may find a home." " Omne solum forti patfia : " the inscription on General Ludlow NOTES. 299 house at Lausanne, where he and Broughton (who read King Charles's sentence to him) died and were buried. Note 19. — Stanza LXX. Line 7. " Had lie, self-banished, the Adantic crossed." Cromwell, it is generally believed, at one time intended to embark for the Colonies. He was prevented, it is said, by the Koyal Govern- ment. Another sport of Destiny. The 3d of September, the day of his birth, was that on which he fought his three great battles, Marston-Moor, Worcester, and Dunbar, and upon the 3d of Sep- tember he died. AVelwood says his success in government depended in a great meas- ure upon this maxim, that if he came to hear of a man fit for his purpose, though ever so obscure, he sent for him and employed him. Such was the practice of Chatham and Napoleon. The chief reason of the latter's success, according to Goethe, was, that under him men were sure of attaining their object. They were attracted to him as actors are to a manager who will certainly assisgn them good parts. In this respect all three were singularly fortunate or sagar cious. The character of Cromwell is an enigma of manifold solutions, which every one interprets as he likes. Note 20. — Stanza LXXII. Line 1. " East Haddam's Mount! where vague portentous sound." I refer you to Barber's Hist. Collections, Connecticut, pages 527 and -528, for a full account of all these wonders. 300 NOTES. Note 21. — Stanza LXXIV. Lines 7 and 8. " Are only Nature's echoes, — soul and lyre But the mere strings or voices of her choir." " On dirait que le souffle pur du oiel et de la mer, agit sur ] harpes Eoliennes, et que la Poesie comme les accords est I'echo la nature." — Corinne, Lib. IIL Chap. 3. Note 22. — Stanza LXXV. Line 1. " Mysterious rock of Dighton ! " I take the following account of Dighton Rock from Kendall. " The rook is an insulated mass of fine-grained gray granite, or gru stein, lying northwest and southwest, on the sands of the river, a ft feet above the present low-water mark, but covered at every tide. '. length is eleven feet, and its height four and a half. Towards the lai its form is broken and irregular, but inclining gradually outwa from the summit to the base ; towards the water it presents a reg lar face and nearly smooth, forming an inclined plane of abo , sixty degrees' elevation. Of this face, which is of the length of t rock, and about five feet broad, the whole appears to have been ori; nally filled with sculptures ; but those immediately at the base, such there were, are now entirely worn away. A little above, scul tures discover themselves but faintly, while those at the summit a very perfect " The whole is composed of outlines hollowed or cut in intagl and of which the breadth is generally less than an inch, and t depth where deepest does not exceed half an inch. From the s pearance of the sculpture, and from the hardness of the stone, is probable that the upper parts have suffered little injury ; and j NOTES. '301 the edges are here broken, and the whole execution appears bar- barous. The different states of preservation observable in the lower figures and the upper may be attributed to the action of the water, and perhaps to the collision of floating bodies of ice, both of which agents must operate on the lower part of the stone in a greater degree than on the upper, the upper being covered, at every tide, for a much shorter space of time than the lower. The alternate action of salt and the atmosphere have produced an equal diver- sity of color on the surface of the stone ; the upper part being of a deep red or purple color, and the lower gradually fading towards the ba,se into a pinkish-gray. The interior substance is gray. After viewing the rock and its sculptures, which last are sufficiently con- spicuous to attract notice from the deck of a vessel sailing in the channel of the river, we demand, if not the meaning of the sculp- tures, at least the history of their formation ; but upon the second subject there is very little to be said, and upon the first absolutely nothing. The only solid history is that the rock, with its sculp- tures, was found in its present place, and apparently in its present condition, by the earliest colonists.'' Note 23. — Stanza LXXVI. Lines 1 and 2. " And whose was that grim skeleton, arrai/ed In brass, with brazen weapons by his side f " These remains were found in the town of Fall Kiver, in Bristol County, Massachusetts, about three years since. In digging down a hill near the village a large mass of earth slid off, leaving in the bank, and partially uncovered, a human skull, which on examinar tion was found to belong to a body buried in a sitting posture; 302 NOTES. the head being about one foot below what had been for many yea the surface of the ground. The surrounding earth was careful removed, and the body found to be enveloped in a covering of coai cloth of a dark color. Within this envelope were found the remai of another coarse cloth, made of fine bark, and about the textu of a Manilla coffee-bag. On the breast was a plate of brass th teen inches long, six broad at the upper end, and five at the lowt This plate appears to have been cast, and is fi-om one eighth to thr thirty-seconds of an inch in thickness. It is so much corroded, th whether or not anything was engraved upon it has not yet been i certained. It is oval in form, the edges being irregular, apparent made so by corrosion. Below the breastplate, and entirely encircli the body, was a belt composed of brass tubes, each four and half inches in length and three sixteenths of an inch in dial eter, arranged longitudinally and close together, the length of tube being the width of the belt. The tubes are of thin brass, cj upon hollow reeds, and were fastened together by pieces of sine This belt was so placed as to protect the lower parts of the boi below the breastplate. The arrows are of brass, thin, flat, and t angular in shape, with a round hole cut through near the base. T shaft was fastened to the head by inserting the latter in an openii at the end of the wood, and then tying it with a sinew through tl round hole, — a mode of constructing the weapon never practise by the Indians, not even with their arrows of thin shell. Parts • the shaft still remain on some of them. When first discovered, tl arrows were in a sort of quiver of bark, which fell in pieces whi exposed to the air That the body Weis not one of the I dians, we think needs no argument. We have seen some of ti drawings taken from the sculptures found at Palenque, and in tho NOTES. 303 the figures are represented with breastplates, although smaller than the plate found at Fall River. On the figures at Palenque the bracelets and anklets appear to be of a manufacture precisely similar to the belt of tubes just described. These figures also have helmets precisely answering to the description of the helmet of Hec- tor in Homer. If the body found at Fall River be one of the Asiatic race, who transiently settled in Central North America and after- wards went to Mexico and founded those cities in exploring the ruins of which such astonishing discoveries have recently been made, then we may well suppose also that it is one of the races whose exploits with " brazen spears " have, although without a date, and almost with- out a certain name, been immortalized by the Father of Poetry. . . . Of this great race, who founded cities and empires in their eastward march, and are finally lost in South America, the Romans seem to have had a glimmering tradition in the story of Evander. American Magazine, 1837. Note 24. — Stanza LXXIX. Line 8. " One solemn revelation from the dead," ^c. [See Mather's Magnalia. A vessel from England, in which many of the friends and relations of the colonists had embarked, was long missing, and anxiety rose to agony. One Sabbath the assembled congregation prayed fervently, with one voice and heart, that the Lord would take pity on their grief- worn and troubled spirits, and vouchsafe to them a sign whether their brethren still lived, or had perished." Suddenly they saw a ship stand- ing into the bay with all sail set, but all at once she mysteriously dis- appeared. Then they knew that the ocean had swallowed all on hoard. 304 NOTES. There is no necessity for taxing our Puritan forefathers either w falsehood or superstition. An optical illusion was no doubt the foi dation of this, as well as many similar stories. Speaking of the mira. Tod says : — " I observed it on my voyage home, but more especially in the p sage out. About six o'clock on a dark evening, while we were danci on the waste of waters, I perceived a ship bearing down with full s upon us, so distinctly that I gave the alarm, in expectation of a col ion ; so, as I recollect, the helm was instantly put up, and in a seco no ship was to be seen. The laugh was against me ; I had se the Flying Dutchman, according to the opinion of the experienc officer on deck, and I really believed it was a vision of the min but I now feel convinced it was either the reflection of our oi ship in a passing cloud of this vapor, or a more distant object there refracted." — ToD, Annals of Rajahs'tan, Vol. I. p. 770.] Note 25. — Stanza LXXXVIII. Line 1. " At Saugus, in a rocky glen profound." Two incidents have been here blended ; the legend attached to t glen at Saugus River, and the wreck of the pirate Bellamy. '-' E many years after this shipwreck," says Alden, Coll. Epitaphs, " a mi of a very singular and frightful aspect, used every spring and autut to be seen travelling on the Cape, who was supposed to have been o of Bellainy's crew Aged people relate that this man frequeni spent the night in private houses, and that whenever the Bible or a religious book was read, or any family devotions performed, he invar bly left the room. This is not improbable. It is also stated, tl during the night it would seem as if he had in his chamber a legi NOTES. 305 from the lower world ; for much conversation was often OTerheard which was boisterous, profane, blasphemous, and quarrelsome in the extreme. This is the representation. The probability is, that his sleep was dis- turbed by a recollection of the murderous scenes in which he had been engaged, and that he involuntarily vented such exclamations as, with an imagination awake to wonders from the invisible regions, gave rise in those days to the current opinion that his bedchamber was the resort of infernals." Note 26. — Stanza LXXXIX. Lines 1 and 2. " When Manshope, the sage enchanter, Jlung From his huge Indian pipe an ashy shower." " Upon the southern shore of the same island of Nope (the Indian name for Martha's Vineyard), at a distance of ten or twelve miles from the residence of Moshop, lived at the same period of time Hiwassee, the proud and arbitrary Sachem of that portion of the island which lies most exposed to the fogs of spring. He was a very rich and mighty man, had abundance of grape-vines, and a vast many ponds well stocked with clams, oysters, perch, crabs, and wild-fowl ; many swamps filled with terrapins and cranberries ; and much land well adapted to the growing of maize and other good things. He was accounted the most powerful Sachem on the island. He was, besides, on excellent terms with Moshop, and so escaped all taxes, contributions, and tenths, merely now and then making him a present of a few baskets of grapes, or a few terrapins. This Sachem had a daughter, young and more beautiful than any maiden that had ever been seen in Nope. She was taller than Indian maidens generally are, her hair was long, and glossy as the raven's, and her step very light and graceful. Then she ex- T 306 NOTES. celled very far the women of her tribe in the exercises which beloi to the other sex. None drew the bow with equal strength, or tortur( the prisoner with greater ingenuity, or danced the war-dance with sui agility', or piped the war-song with lungs as efficient. I must tell n brother, that, according to the tradition of our nation, the Indian femal were first taught by her to introduce the crab's claw into the cartilaj of the nose, and to insert the shell of a clam into the under-lip, ornaments. She was indeed a beautifiil creature, and understoc better than any one else the art of attracting all the brave ai best of the land ; the love and admiration of the other sex follow( her whithersoever she went. " Her father's wigwam was filled with suitors who came to solit her love. There were the chiefs of the tribes which dwelt at N shamoyes, Challaquiddick, Popannessit, Suckatasset, and many othi places, — warriors famed and fearless, — who asked her of the Grai Sachem in marriage. But no, she was deaf to their entreatie laughed at all their presents of conch-shells, terrapins, and eagle feathers, and carefully and scrupulously barred the doors of her fathei wigwam against all the suitors, who, according to the Indian forms ( courtship, came when the lights were extinguished, and the paren were sleeping, to whisper soft tales at the side of her couch. Tl truth, which must be told my brother, is, that she had long befoi placed her affections upon a young warrior, stern to his enemies, bi to her all gentleness, who dwelt at the western end of the island, ar was reckoned the favorite, some said he was the son, of the Devil c Cape Higgin. They loved each other long, and with the truest affe tion, and all their hopes centred in a union. But my brother knoin if he does not I will tell him, that fathers and mothers will not alwa; permit daughters to have their own way in marriage. The proi NOTES. 307 father objected to the lover, because he had slain but three foes, and was not descended from a line of chiefs distinguished by their wisdom or valor. What was to be done ? The lovers talked the matter over and over again, and finally determined to apply to Moshop for his aid and advice. " They forthwith repaired to the usual residence of the goblin. It was a most auspicious moment ; they found him in a delirium of joy. A school of whales in a recent dark night, becoming bewildered, had foun- dered upon a neighboring ledge of rocks, and a great many fine calves had been deposited at the mouth of his den as his share. Withal, a brother goblin, residing somewhere upon the mainland, had sent him some excellent old tobacco ; and these, with the occurrence at the moment of other enlivening circumstances, had wrought him up to such unusual good temper, that he quite forgot his very recent deter- mination to annoy all lovers, and promised to befriend the hapless pair. He rose from his seat, put a few hundred pounds of tobacco in his pouch, took a half-roasted grampus from the coals to pick by the way, and set off for Sanchequintacket, the place of Hiwassee's res- idence, — the young warrior perched upon his shoulder, and the maiden, reposing on a litter formed by his arm, lay horizontally on his breast. Moshop was no devil with wings, but he had two legs, and could use them to much advantage. So he set off at a pretty smart trot, and was very soon at the end of his journey. " He found the Grand Sachem busy at a feast ; but this did not pre- vent him from telling his errand at once. With great calmness, and in perfect silence, for he was not in one of his talkative fits, he heard the maiden's father give his reasons for refusing his daughter to the lover. They were those which have been a thousand times urged before, — poverty, — low parentage, — not suificiently known, — not sufficiently 308 NOTES. celebrated. " Is this all you have to say against the young man, y( old fool ? " asked Moshop. " What do you want ? what must tl young man have ? — " He must have a great deal of land, — he mu have an island," answered Hiwassee. " Good," said Moshop, drawii a huge quantity of smoke into his mouth, and blowing it out throu< his nose ; " follow me i " " At the time whereof I speak, the island of Nope extended to ai comprehended the little island of Tuckernuck. The little was then part of the larger island ; but once upon a time there came a gre storm, the wind raged and the thunder rolled, and the storms beat up( the island, and it was disjointed and became two islands. To a hi| cliff, upon the eastern side of this same Tuckernuck, Moshop conduct( Hiwassee, his daughter, her lover, and a great crowd of other Indiar who followed to see what wonderful feat he would perform. Beii arrived, he sat down upon the ground and commenced his chari First he dug a great hole in the earth, into which he threw mar heated stones, the while muttering many words, which no one but hii self understood. Then he filled his pipe with tobacco. When this w; done, he kindled it with the rays from a flash of lightning. Once 1 bowed to the rising sun, twice to the north star, blew thrice in a cone shell, muttered some unintelligible words, and commenced smoking i a great rate. In a few minutes it was as dark as the darkest night, ar a terrible tempest arose. The thunder rolled awfully, the lightninj flashed, the rains poured down, and abundance of voices were heard the east puffing and blowing, as of men in great labor. Present there was a hissing sound, like that of live embers dropped into wate Moshop had emptied his pipe. There now came up a strong wind fro the west, which, gradually dispersing the smoke he had created, di played to their view a low, dark something in the east, — the ash NOTES. 309 from Moshop's pipe. The couple upon whom Moshop bestowed this island gave it the name of Nantucket, and such it bears to this day." — Jones, Traditions of the North American Indians. Note 27. — Stanza XC. Line 1. " Thou, too, New Bedford," &c. New Bedford, as you are aware, has " a very ancient, venerable, and fish-like smell," being the principal seat of the whale-fishery after, or perhaps before, Nantucket, for the point is controverted; but its inhabitants, institutions, and social organization are all admirable. It approaches nearer to a pattern town than any I ever saw, and many beautiful cottages, not destitute of memorials of foreign travel, avouch the taste of its wealthier inhabitants, between whom and the less wealthy (for none are absolutely poor) there exists a kindness and sympathy of feeling rarely seen elsewhere. Note 28. — Stanza XCni. Line 1. " Never ! no, never ! " &c. " Jamais ! jamais ! Ah Corinne quelle parole de fer et de feu." — Mad. de Stabl. " Qu'ils vivent ceux qui peuvent soutenir ce mot irreparable ! moi je le crois sorti des enfers, il n'est pas de la langue des hommes, leur imagination ne peut-le supporter; c'est I'^ternite des peines qu'il anuonce ; il exprime h, lui seul ses tourmens les plus cruels." — Del- phine, Tom. 11. Lett. 11. 310 NOTES. Note 29. — Stanza CII. Line 8. " It marks a Warren's glorious bed of rest." [The obelisk on Breed's, usually, though erroneously, called Bu ker's Hill. Warren was the first officer of rank who fell in the Kevolutiona war. This, no less than his amiable character, bravery, and abiliti( secures him a place in our annals.] Note 30. — Stanza CIII. Line 4. " With old Faneuil what glorious memories rear" &c. You are not ignorant of the associations which endear Faneuil Hi to an American, especially a Bostonian. NOTES TO CANTO IV- Note 1. — • Stanza I. Line 8. " Whose spirit Jills the heavens and earth and air." The first six lines are an imitation of Dante's beautiM and well-known opening of Canto VIII. of the Purgatorio, "Era gia r ora," etc. Note 2. — Stanza II. The last line is Byron's. Note 3. — Stanzas XII. and Xm. Writing for you only, I could not deny myself the pleasure of incor- porating a translation of the only Italian rhymes I ever ventured to compose. Poetry they are not, and I would not venture to submit them to any eye but yours. True poetry is never written but in the tongue of our mother and our nurse. I call Milton's Italian sonnets to witness. Italia mia ! benche de' tuoi non nato Ne del materno sen %liuolo degno Son per amor, se non lo sia d' ingegno Del prole tuo neppur, il men amato : 312 NOTES. Madre del cuor ! da cui fu allettato II gran peusier dell' alta mia impresa Se mal facessi mai la tua difesa, Era almen' lo zel appassionato : M' assolvi pur' — da molti sei tradita Ti sprezzan piu — tra frodi ed iuganni Ceppi e guai, forse sara gradita La Pieta che tien a tuoi affanni L' anima mia per sempre piii unita Neir odii immortal de' tuoi tiranni ! Note 4. — Stanza XIV. Line 6. " Would glory in thy freedom and repose." I could not pursue the imitation of Filicaja's noble sonnet furtl without seeming to unite in reproaches which none but an Italian ha right to utter. Note 5. — Stanza XV. Line 7. " Till Italt ! hursts forth from every heart" &c. The very name of Italy is proscribed : its sound is hateful to the i eign despots who oppress her. The cry of Italy 1 therefore, is equi lent to Freedom! Union! Independence! That one word inclui them all. What emotion it inspires in the modern Hun and Scythi Horace will inform us : — " Te Dacus asper, te profugl Scythse Urbesque, gentesque, et Latium ferox Eegumque matres barbarorum et Purpurei metuunt tyranni." Ode I. Bookll. NOTES. 313 Note 6. — Stanza XVI. Line 1. " Slaves are still slaves while raging to be free." " Servi siam ma servi ognor frementi." — Alfiebi. Note 7. — Stanza XVII. Lines 7 and 8. "■Two Principles, like Genii, hurl their Jire — Evil aiid Good — till one or both expire." Should this catastrophe seem to you rather ultra-feline and ferocious, be pleased to consider, first, that I am not accountable for it, but the author of the original tale in the Arabian Nights, whence it is copied ; next, that the whole figure is allegorical. If the Lady of Beauty, who could turn apes to men, be taken as the type of Liberty, her services are much wanted, not in Italy only, but elsewhere, and then of course, the Genie, her antagonist, is Despotism. But how are both to be destroyed ? This is no difiiculty to a thorough- bred allegory-monger. It would not detain Signor Eosetti a moment. When Liberty and Despotism fight with fire, the natural consequence is Revolution, — the extinction of both Tyranny and Anarchy, and the birth of Constitutional Monarchy, or a mixed gOTcrnment. But you will thank me much more for transcribing enough of the tale to save you the trouble of looking for it, instead of explaining the trans- formations of the Genie into a lion, scorpion, cat, worm, and minnow ; and those of the Lady into a sword, serpent, eagle, wolf, and so forth ; all of which, no doubt, are clear types of Revolutionary progress. "The Sultan had a daughter, who was justly called the Lady of Beauty, of whom he was exceedingly fond. Thinking the sight of so wonderful an ape would entertain her, he sent foi' her ; on her entering the room she let fall her veil, though there were only the customary 14 314 NOTES. attendants present. The Sultan inquired the cause of this novelty ' Sir,' replied the Princess, ' the ape you have by you is a younj Prince transformed by enchantment. I have learned the seventy rulei of magic, whence I know at first sight all persons who are enchanted and how they became so.' ' Have you power also,' said the Sultan, ' tc dispel the charm ? ' 'I have,' replied the Princess. ' Do so then im- mediately, I entreat you,' said the Sultan ; ' I interest myself exceed- ingly in this Prince's fortunes ; if you can restore him, I will make him my Vizier, and he shall marry you.' The Lady of Beauty retired, and, presently returning, brought a knife, which had some Hebrew words engraved on the blade. She conducted the Sultan and me, attended by the master of the eunuchs and a little slave, into a private court of the palace, and, placing us in the gallery, she drew a circle, withiE which she wrote several words in Arabian characters, some of them an- cient, others of the character of Cleopatra. When she had finished the circle, she placed herself in the centre of it, where she began adjura- tions, and repeated several verses out of the Alcoran. The air insen- sibly grew dark, and all at once the Genie appeared in the shape of a lion of frightful size. " ' Wretch ! ' said the Princess to him, ' darest thou present thyself in that shape thinking to frighten me ? ' ' And thou,' replied the lion, ' art thou not afraid to break the treaty which was so solemnly made between us ? But thou shalt quickly have thy reward.' At these words he opened his terrible jaws, and ran at her to devour her ; but she leaped backward, pulled out one of her hairs, and, by pronouncing three or four words, changed herself into a sharp sword, and cut the lion in two. " The lion vanished, and a scorpion appeared in his room. The Princess became a serpent, and fought the scorpion, who, finding him- NOTES. 315 self worsted, took tie shape of an eagle and flew away. The serpent also took the same shape, and pursued him, so that we lost sight of them both. Some time after, the ground opened, and there came forth a eat, with her hair standing upright, and making a fearful miaulling ; a black wolf followed her close, and gave her no time to rest. The cat, thus hard beset, changed herself into a worm ; and, a pomegranate lying by the side of the canal, the worm pierced it in an instant, and hid itself, but the pomegranate immediately swelled as big as a gourd, and presently burst into several pieces. The wolf became a cock, and ■picked up the seeds of the pomegranate : when he could find no more, he came toward us as if he would ask us whether he had left any. There was one lying on the brink of the canal, which we perceiving pointed it out to the cock, who ran speedily towards it ; just as he was going to pick it up, the seed rolled into the river, and became a little fish. The cock jumped into the river and was turned into a pike, which pursued the small fish. They continued both under water about two hours, and we began to wonder what had become of them ; when on a sudden we heard such terrible cries as made us tremble, and pres- ently we saw the Princess and the Genie all in flames; they threw flashes of fire at each other so fiercely that we apprehended the palace would be consumed. But we soon had more reason to be alarmed ; for the Genie, having got loose from the Princess, came to the gallery and blew flames at us. The Princess flew to our assistance, and beat off the Genie, but in that momentary attack, the Sultan's face was dread- fully scorched, the eunuch was stifled, and, a spark entering my right eye, it became blind. We expected nothing but death, when we heard a cry of ' Victory ! victory ! ' the Princess appeared in her natu- ral shape, but the Genie was reduced to a heap of ashes. " The Princess hastily caught up some water in. the hollow of her hand, and uttering certain words, she threw it over me, and I became 316 NOTES. a man as before, one eye only excepted. As I was about to retur thanks to my deliverer, she prevented me by addressing her fathe thus : ' Sir, I have got the victory over the Genie ; but it is a victor that costs me dear, as I have but a few moments to live. This woul not have been, had I perceived the last of the pomegranate seeds, an swallowed it, as I did the others; that oversight obliged me to have r( course to fire, and to fight with those mighty arms, as I did, betwee heaven and earth, in your presence ; I have conquered, and reduce the Genie to ashes ; but the fire pierced me also, during that terribl combat, and 1 find I cannot escape death.' " We were thunderstruck at the declaration, and had scarce r( covered the power of expressing our sorrow, when the Princess crie out, ' O, I burn ! ' She continued some time crying out, till at lai the effect of the fire was so violent, that she also, as the Genie, we reduced to a heap of ashes." Note 8. — Stanza XIX. Line 5. " To prove ' all is not evil from the North.' " " Ogui male dall' Settentrionale," is the proverb of your country men, for which they have the prophet's authority : " Septentrion pandetur malum." Whether they or you would except one barbarian, is a question tha may be asked and answered only when the prophecy in the tej is accomplished. NOTES. 317 Note 9. — Stanza XXVI. Line 8. " Here is his verse, — shape ye therefrom your creed ! " [Allusion is here made, I presume, to the following lines : — STAR OF MY LOVE. " This is my star : we will look at it every nigtit, and think of each other.*' "II y a panni ces ^toiles un amoar 6temel qui pent seul sufiSre ^ rimmensite de nos Toeus." Star of my Love ! how brightly bums Thy mild, pure, tranquil flame to-night ! Though thousands from their crystal urns Are pouring floods of silver light. In thine alone I take delight ; For one who in my absence mourns Now gazes on thee in thy flight. And every look I give returns. And therefore dost thou seem so bright, Star of my Love ! Star of my Love ! while thus on high Thy kindred hosts their vigils keep. Careering through the dark-blue sky, And earth seems sunk in slumber deep. There yet are those who do not sleep. But gaze upon thee with a sigh, And eyes that long, yet scorn to weep, While gloomy clouds across thee fly. Like thoughts that o'er our fancies sweep. Star of my Love ! 318 NOTES. Star of my Love ! I see thee shine E'en now as ■when thou met'st the gaze Of one whose hand was clasped in mine When last we saw thy glories blaze. Then, as we marked thy beauteous rays, With spirits soft and pure as thine, We asked thy aid in thorny ways, And bowed our hearts before thy shrine, With souls all gratitude and praise, Star of my Love ! Star of my Love ! . . . most lovely star Of all in heaven's high temple hung, Though wandering now asunder far, Thou hast for us an angel's tongue ; — Thou saw'st the parting pangs that wrung Our bosoms from thy silvery car ; For us thy golden lyre was strung To Him who made us what we are. And thus to thee our hymn is sung. Star of my love !] (1827.) Note 10.— Stanza L VIII. Line 8. " Zealots of Freedom, — martyrs to Renown ! " [Pascagoula is a beautiful and solitary bay opening on the Gulf of Mexico, between Mobile and New Orleans. It has long been cele- brated for its quiet loveliness, and still more for a sweet and singular NOTES. 319 superstition. A strange, unearthly music is often heard to issue from its waters. The sound is fitful, and occurs at different hours of the day and night, with more or less strength and Tolume, but always tender and plaintive. There is no doubt of the fact, and Philoso- phy has not yet desecrated it by any satisfactory explanation. The Indian tradition respecting this music is sufficiently romantic. The whole Southwest, they say, was once the possession of the Biloxi, a highly civilized tribe of Indians, who had attained great proficiency in the arts at the expense of their warlike virtues. They were overrun and conquered by fiercer and more barbarous tribes, and their last stand was made at Pascagoula, on the margin of the Gulf. Here they erected a fortification, the ruins of which are still visible, though antiquarians insist it is of French or Spanish origin. The last struggles of the Biloxi were desperate, though ineffectual. Famine came to aid their enemies, and death or unconditional sub- mission was their only alternative. They chose the first. Throwing open the seaward gate of their fortress, at a moment when the assail- ants' attention was withdrawn, they marched in funeral procession to the waters of the bay, singing their last song of death and defiance. With unshaken resolution they pressed forward tiU the waters en- gulfed them. The mysterious music of the bay is said to be a repetition of this melancholy strain, sung by their ghosts or the spirits of the woods and waters. — Sims.] Note 11. — Stanza LXIV. Lines 7 and 8. " Like the Barbarian on his Roman prey, Leaving behind the stain Time never wears away." On the 20th of May we embarked in the Illinois steamboat, on an expedition to the confluence of the Missouri with the Mississippi. 820 NOTES. Nothing can be conceived more interesting in its way than this remark- able junction, abreast of which the current, fortunately for our re- searches, was so rapid, that we passed it very slowly. The most striking circumstance observable at this confluence is the difference in the color and purity of the two rivers. The Missouri is nearly as thick as pea-soup, of a dirty, muddy, whitish color ; whUe the Mississippi above the confluence is of a clear light blue, not unlike that of the deep sea, or the Khone at Geneva. At some places it looked like the Tweed, when it has got a slight tinge of the moors; but when a glass of it was taken up, it always appeared as clear as any spring water. If a glass of the Missouri were, however, dipped up in like manner, it was perfectly turbid, worse than the rain-puddles on a highway road, and in a few minutes a stratum of mud was formed on the bottom of the tumbler. The surface of the Mississippi above the confluence was clear of drift-wood, while that of its companion was all covered over with half-burnt logs, trees with their branches torn off, and great rafts or floating islands of timber, drifted from the interior, sweeping and swirling along at a furious rate. The Missouri enters the Mississippi from the westward, nearly at right angles to it ; and such is tha impetuosity of its current, that it fairly drives the Mississippi over to the left or eastern bank. There was literally not above ten or twelve yards of clear water on that side of the river, while all the rest was muddy. The line of actual contact was particularly interesting. It seemed as if the dirty Missouri had insinuated itself under the clear Mississippi; for we saw it boiling up at a hundred different places. First a small curdling white spot, not bigger than a man's hand, made its appearance near the surface. This rapidly swelled and boiled about, till in a few seconds it suddenly became as large as a steamboat, spreading itself on all sides in gigantic eddies, or whirlpools, in a man- ner I hardly know how to describe, but which was amazingly striking. NOTES. 321 At other places the two cuirents ran along side by side, without the least intermixture, — -like oil and water ; but this separation never con- tinued long, and the contaminating Missouri soon conquered the beau- tiful Mississippi ; indeed, the stain is never got rid of for one moment during the twelve hundred miles that the united streams run over be- fore they fall into the Gulf of Mexico. — Hall's Travels in North America, Vol. IE. p. 309. Note 12. — Stanza LXVn. Line 1. " Thy borders forests, and thy stream an ocean.'' CHAEACTER OF THE MISSISSIPPI. "It has been the fashion with travellers to talk of the scenery of the Mississippi as wanting grandeur and beauty. Most certainly it has neither. But there is no scenery on earth more striking. The dreary and pestilential solitudes, untrodden save by the foot of the Indian ; the absence of all living objects save the huge alligators, which float past apparently asleep, and an occasional vulture, attracted by its impure prey on the surface of the waters ; the trees, with a long and hideous drapery of pendent moss, fluttering in the wind ; and the giant river, rolUng onward the vast volume of its dark and turbid waters through the wilderness, — form the features of one of the most dismal and impressive landscapes on which the eye of man ever rested. If any one thinks proper to "believe that such objects are not in them- selves sufficient, I beg to say that I difier with him in point of taste. Kocks and mountains are fine things undoubtedly, but they could add nothing of sublimity to the Mississippi. Pelion might be piled on Ossa, Alps on Andes, and stiU to the heart and perceptions of the spectator the Mississippi would be alone. It can brook no rival, and it finds 14* u 322 NOTES. none. No river in the world drains so large a portion of the earth's surface. It is the traveller of the earth five thousand miles, more than two thirds the diameter of the globe. The imagination asks, Whence come its waters, and whither tend they ? They come from the distant regions of a vast continent, where the foot of civilized man has never yet been planted. They flow into an ocean yet vaster, the whole body of which acknowledges their influence. Through what varieties of climate have they passed ? On what scenes of lonely and sublime magnificence have they gazed ? Have they penetrated ' The hoary forests, still the bison's screen, Where stalked the mammoth to his shaggy lair, Through paths and alleys, roofed with sombre green. Thousands of years before the silent air Was pierced by whizzing shafts of hunters keen ? ' In short, when the traveller has asked and answered these questions, and a thousand others, it will be time enough to consider how far the scenery of the Mississippi would be improved by rocks and mountains. He may then be led to doubt whether any great effect can be pro- duced by a combination of objects of discordant character, however grand in themselves. The imagination is perhaps susceptible but of a single powerful impression at a time. Sublimity is uniformly con- nected with unity of object. Beauty may be produced by the happy adaptation of a multitude of harmonious details ; but the highest sub- limity of effect can proceed but from one glorious and paramount object, which impresses its own character on everything around. The prevailing character of the Mississippi is that of a solemn gloom. I have trodden the passes of Alp and Apennine, yet never felt how awful a thing is Nature, until I was borne on its waters through regions desolate and uninhabited. Day after day, and night after night, we NOTES. 323 continued driving right downward to the south ; our vessel, like some huge demon of the wilderness, bearing fire in her bosom, and can- opying the eternal forest with the smoke of her nostrils. How looked the hoary river god, I know not ; nor what thought the alligators, when awakened from their slumber by a vision so astounding. But the effect on my spirits was such as I have never experienced before or since. Conversations became odious, and I passed my time in a sort of dreamy contemplation. At night, I ascended to the highest deck, and lay for hours gazing listlessly on the sky, the forest, and the waters, amid silence only broken by the clanging of the engine. All this was very pleasant ; yet, till I had reached New Orleans, I could scarcely have smiled at the best joke in the world, and as for raising a laugh, it would have been quite as easy to quadrate the circle." — Hamilton's Men and Manners in America. Note 13. — Stanza LXX. Line 8. " But to the last our lion gnaws the shaft." As you told me, I think, you never saw the noble piece of sculpture here alluded to ; I copy the description of it from the letters of an anonymous traveller. " At Lucerne the Lion of Thorwaldsen enchanted me. How genius consecrates all that it touches I This is a monument to the memory of the Swiss who fell in defending the royal family of France on the memorable 10th of August, 1792. In the face of a perpendicular rock, some hundred and eighty or two hundred feet high, a cavern has been excavated, forty-four feet by thirty-six, on which a dying lion has been sculptured in high relief. The spear which transfixed his heart has broken in the wound ; and pain, mingled with grief and 324 NOTES. rage, are finely blended in the expression of Bis noble visage and afiecting attitude. You would say he died less from violence than sor- row. The size is colossal, — twenty-eight feet long, — but the height at which it is placed above you suits the magnitude. In front is a fine sheet of pure water, formed by a source from the rook, and received in a semicircular basin, which keeps the spectator at the proper point of view. The cuslode of this monument is one of the guard who survived that fatal day. " Below the grotto is the inscription, ' Helvetiorum fidei ac virtutis.' And close by is a small chapel, in black marble, hung with emblems of mourning, drapery, and standards, inscribed, ' In YicTis Pax ! ' "Nothing can be more simple and sublime than this eminently poetical conception of Thorwaldsen's. He furnished the original design and model. The work was executed by Ahom, at the ex- pense of the families, friends, and countrymen of the victims." Note 14. — Stanza LXXn. Line 7. " All that the Moor expressed by ' hours of years,' " &e. " Y al cabo de uu hora de anos." — Romance de Gazul. Note 15. — Stanza LXXXIE. Line 1. " And thou, sophistic Volney," &c. It was Volney who preserved in his travels this among other speci- mens of Mi-shi-kin-a-kwa, or the Little Turtle's sagacity and eloquence (p. 407, Lond. ed. 1804). NOTES. 325 Note 16. — Stanza XCII. Line 5. " The Sioux's tower of hunger." This celebrated rock, on the left bank of the Illinois, is said to be two hundred and fifty feet high. It is a stupendous pile, nearly as large at the top as at the base, and accessible at one place only ; in every other direction it is nearly perpendicular, and more than half its base is washed by the river, which is here from three to four feet deep. The summit is circular and almost level, containing about one acre, and now has on it a thick growth of young timber. At one place, where there appears a possibility of scaling the rock, an entrenchment is dug, and a breastwork thrown up. Perpendicular on three sides, it is connected on the fourth with the adjacent range of bluffs by a narrow peninsular ledge, which can only be ascended by a precipitous winding path. Almost inaccessible by nature, this natural battlement was the scene of a desperate conflict between the fierce and haughty Pottar wattamies and one band of the Illinois Indians. The latter fled to this place for refuge from the fury of their enemies. The post could not be carried by assault, and tradition says that the besiegers finally at- tempted, after many repulses, to reduce it by starvation. The pangs of hunger, the tortures of thirst, pressed upon the besieged, but they main- tained their post with invincible courage, determined to die by ex- haustion rather than afford their enemies the triumph of killing them in battle or exposing them at the stake. Every stratagem they a,tr tempted was discovered and defeated. The scorching sun that beat upon their towering hold maddened them to taste the cool stream that glided beneath; but when they endeavored to procure water during the night by lowering vessels attached to cords of bark, the vigilant be- siegers detected their design, and placed a guard in canoes to prevent 326 NOTES. its execution. They all perished, one, and one only, excepted. The last surviving warriors defended the entrance so well that the enemy could neither enter nor discover the fatal progress of the work of death, and when at length all show of resistance vanished, and all signs of life disappeared, the victors cautiously approached and found but one survivor, — a squaw, whom they adopted into their tribe, and who was still* living when the first white man penetrated into this re- gion. — ■ Whiter in the West. Note 17. — Stanza XCV. Line 1. " Savage Leucadia ! to thy steep repair," &e. [This is on Lake Pepin, and is thus described by Beltrami : — " Un rocher qui se projette sur les eaux du lac k I'Est 1^ pr^cistoent ou il commence, represente les m6mes traits physiques et historiques que celui de Leucade. " Lk la Muse de Mityleue, plus savante que belle, s'y preoipita pour guerir d'un amour que sou Phaon m^prisait : ici Oholoaitha plus belle que heureuse trancha le cours d'une vie qui lui etait devenue insuppor- table, separ^e de son Anikigi qui I'aimait. " Si je n'dcrivais pas des lettres en me promenant, je m'oocuperais volontiers d'dcrire son histoire, et je pourrais aussi faire le romancier ; mais deux mots se faits valent quelquefois mieux que des volumes mendies. " Une bande ennemie surprit la tribu d'Oholoaitha dont son pSre est encore le chef. Epargn^e dans la massacre elle fut faite prisonniere. " Elevde dans la maison du chef vainquer depuis I'age de dix ans, jus- qu'k celui de 18, age de plus vives impressions, elle se sentit touchee de NOTES. 327 reconnoissance et d'amour pour son fils qui lui avait lui-mSme sauve la Tie, et payait vivement de retour ses affections. " A I'occasion d'une de ces paix, que lea sauvages, et non sauvages font de bouclie, et d^mentent du fond de leur coeur, elle fut rendue, et demandee, en m§me temps comme epouse. Son pfere Sioux barbare, et ennemi irreconciliable la refusa opiniatrdment au bon Cypewais qui de bonne foi tout en satisfairant sa tendresse voulait mieux con- solider, par cette alliance, et la paix de deux families, et celle de deux nations. " Et la pauTre Oholoaitha se livra k son dfe&poir et fit le saut fatal le jour mSme ou son pere cruel, voulait la sacrafier k des noeuds qu'elle detestait." — Bblteami, Sources du Mississippi. The same story is told by Schoolcraft, with not more than the usual variation of tradition : — " In passing through Lake Pepin, our interpreter pointed out to us a high precipice on the east ■shore of the lake, from which an Indian girl of the Sioux nation, many years ago, precipitated herself in a fit of dis- appointed love. " She had given her heart to a young chief of her own tribe, who was very much attached to her, but the alliance was opposed by her parents, who wished her to marry an old chief renowned for his wis- dom and his influence in the nation. " As the union was insisted on, and no other way appeared to avoid it, she determined to sacrifice her life, rather than renounce her lover, and, while preparations for the marriage feast were going forward, left her father's cabin without exciting suspicion, and, before she could be over- taken, threw herself from an awful precipice, and was instantly dashed to pieces. " Such an instance of sentiment is rarely to be met with among bar- 328 NOTES. barians, and should redeem the name of this noble-minded girl from oblivion, — it was Oola-Ita (Oo-la-i-ta)." — Schoolcraft's Journal.] Note 18. — Stanza XCVII. Lines 3 and 4. " Hundred of Grecian statues sprung to life Would not have seemed of more immortal clay." West is reported to have said, when he saw the Apollo, " Good God ! how like a young Indian ! " Beltrami declares ; — " J'ai vu bien des Enfers et des Purgatoires, bien de Limbes et des Paradis, bien des Deluges et des jugemens derniers. J'ai vu au Vati- can les chambres, les loges, les salles de Raphael et de les ^coHers ; la collection de ses cent mellieures tetes ; ses cartons en Angleterre. J'ai vu les fresques des Dominichino, de Guido Eeni, de Guercino, de Giotto, de Cimabue, &c. J'ai vu la Conspiration de Catiline de Salvator Rosa, ce qu'il y a de beau et d'extravagant dans I'ecole flamande ; mais tout ce qu'ils peuvent offrir, ensemble de sublime et d'horrible, d'original et de grotesque, ne saurait egaler le melange bizarre et extraordinaire, que presentent k I'oeil etonn^ les gestes, les postures les physionomies de ces sauvages. Ce grand tableau seul suffit k caracteriser un Nou- veau Monde." — Decouverte de Sources du Mississippi. Note 19. — Stanza XCVIII. Lines 3 and 4. " Nor his — my countryman — who, if he will, May rival yet the artist called ' Divine.' " Hiram Powers. /'^ NOTES. 329 Note 20. — Stanza C. Lines 3 and 4. " This was Atald's consecrated ground, Ample the canvas — if the colors fad." " I have often thought," says Bulwer, " that, had the execution of Atala equalled its design, no human work could hare surpassed its grandeur. What picture is more simple, though more sublime, than the vast solitude of an unpeopled wUdemess, the woods, the moun- tains, the face of nature cast in the fresh yet giant mould of a new and unpolluted world ; and amidst those most silent and mighty temples of the great God, the lone spirit of Love reigning and brightening over aU." — Falkland. Note 21. — Stanza CI. Line 1. " Behold the sinking mountain." This striking object is thus described by Schoolcraft : — " A few miles below Wabashaw's village, an isolated mountain of singular appearance rises out of the centre of the river to a height of four or five hundred feet, when it terminates in crumbling peaks of naked rock, whose lines of stratification and massy walls, impress forcibly upon the mind the image of some gigantic battlement of former generations. Around its lower extremity the alluvion of the river has collected, forming a large island, covered with a heavy forest, whose deep green foliage forms a pleasing contrast with the bar- ren grandeur of the impending rocks, which project their Gothic pin- nacles into the clouds, and cast a sombre shadow over the broad and glittering bosom of the Mississippi. This singular feature in the topography of the country has long attracted the admiration and won- der of the voyageurs of the Mississippi, who have bestowed upon it 330 NOTES. the appellation of ' the mountain that sinks in the water,' (la mon^ tagne qui trompe dans I'eau,) an opinion being prevalent among them, that it annually sinks a few feet. This island mountain is four or five miles in circumference, with a mean width of half a mile, and, by dividing the channel of the river into two equal parts, gives an immense breadth to the stream, and thus increases the grandeur of the prospect. Note 22. — Stanza CIII. Line 5. " Fata Morgana's magic landscape flies." With the Fata Morgana of Sicily every one is familiar from Brj'- done's description. Monge describes the phenomenon in Napoleon's Campaigns in Egypt ; and Dr. Clark, in his Journey to Rosetta. See also Litchtenstein's Travels in Southern Africa, or the Edinburgh Re- view, Vol. XXI. pp. 66 and 138. Tod says : " I have beheld it from the top of the ruined fortress of Hissar, with unlimited range of vision ; no object to diverge its ray, save the miniature forests, — the entire circle of the horizon a chain of more palaces and towers than Fancy could have formed, and these airy pillars of Heaven terminating in turn their ephemeral existence." — Annals of Rajah'stan, Vol. I. pp. 17, 18. " It is on the desiccated borders of this vast salt marsh (the Run or Rin, the Erinnos of the historians of Alexander) that the illusory phe- nomenon of the mirage presents its fantastic appearance, pleasing to all but the weary traveller, who sees a haven of rest in the embattled tow- ers, the peaceful hamlet or shady grove, to which he hastens in vain, finding it recede as he advances, till the sun in his might, dissipating these ' cloud-capped towers,' reveals the vanity of his pursuit. " Such phenomena are common to the desert, more particularly NOTES. 331 where these extensive saline depositions exist, but vav}'ing from certain causes. In most cases this powerfully magnifying and reflecting medium is a vertical stratum [of air] ; at first dense and opaque, it gradually attenuates with increased temperature, till the maximum of heat, which it can no longer resist, drives it off in an ethereal vapor. This optical deception, well known to the Raj-poots, is callod See Kole, or winter castles, because chiefly visible in the cold season ; hence possibly originated the equally illusory and delightful Chateaux en Espagne so well known in the West." — Ibid. In another place he tells us : — " When we witnessed this phenomenon, at first a lofty opaque wall of lurid smoke rose from the verge of the horizon. By slow degrees the mass became transparent, and assumed a reflecting or refracting power. .... A ray of light broke the line of continuity of this yet smoky barrier, and, as if touched by the enchanter's wand, castles, towers, and trees were seen in an aggregated cluster, partly obscured by magnificent foliage, . . until at length the too vivid power of the sun dissolved the vision, and castles, towers, and foliage melted into air It appeared again, like an immense walled town with bastions ; nor could we give credit to our guides when they assured us these objects were merely castles in the air.'' — Ibid. p. 768. Note 23.— Stanza CV. Line 1. " Ozolapaida ! Helen of the West." " Une grande nation sauvage qui desertait le Mexique vint s'etablir au decja des montagnes Cypawaises ; celles qui s^parent les sources du Missouri des sources de la Colombia, et le Nouveau Mexique des fron- tieres occideutales des Etats-Unis. Ces sauvages s'appelaient Dacotas. 332 NOTES. " On trouve des H^lfenes partout. Les Dacotas eurent aussi la leur, et elle causa des maux aussi funestes que celle de la Grece. " Ozolapaida femme de Wihanok-appa fut enlevde par Ohatam-pa : celui-ci tua son man et deux de ses freres qui avaient 6t4 la redemander. La discords et les reactions se mirent entre ces deux families les plus puissantes de la nation. Les parens, les amis, les partizans des deux cotds prirent fait et cause ; des vengeances amenerent d'autres ven- geances et toute la nation fut entrainee dans une guerre civile et cruelle qui finit par la diviser en deux factions. Sous le nom de Achiniboina celle qui s'dtait rangee du cote de la famille de I'offenseur, et de Siorrad celle qui tenait le parti de I'offensd; comme lesBianchiet les Neri, les Uberti et les Buondelmonti, &c. " Quand ces peuples eureut besoin de s'etendre ils se formerent en deux nations les Sioux et les Assiniboins, mais leur separation et leur eloignement ne suffirent point k eteindre leurs guerres. Elles durerent encore long-temps, et ce n'est que depuis peu qu'ils sent en paix. Cet dvenement d'aprfes leurs calculs date k peu de deux cents ans," &c. — Beltrami, Dec. des Sources du Miss. Note 24.— Stanza CXV. Line 8. " To hide the scourge of earth from friends and foes.'' [Gibbon, after describing the siege, capture, and plunder of Eome by Alarie, and his preparations for invading your native country, which were frustrated by a tempest, proceeds : — " The whole design was defeated by the premature death of Alarie, which fixed, after a short illness, the term of his conquests. The fero- cious character of the Barbarians was displayed in the funeral of a hero, whose valor and fortune they celebrated with mournful applause. NOTES. 333 By the labor of a captive multitude they forcibly diverted the course of the Busentius, a small river that washes the walls of Consentia. The royal sepulchre, adorned with the splendid spoils and trophies of Rome, was constructed in the vacant bed : the waters were then restored to their natural channel ; and the secret spot where the remains of Alaric had been deposited was forever concealed by the inhuman massacre of the prisoners who had been employed to execute tie work." — Decline and Fall, Vol. V. p. 329. The original authority is Jornandes de Reb. Get. u. 30, p. 654, or rather Cassiodorus, whose history Jornandes abridged. (GtIbbon.) Cramer calls the river Crathis, but Muratori gives the modern name, Baseno, and fixes the epoch A. D. 410 (Annali d' Italia). Giannone, Lib. II. c. 4, calls the river Busento.] Note 25. Stanxa CXVII. Line!. " Yet would not now Cosenza's pastor deal." [After the defeat, death, and interment of Manfred, the Bishop of Cosenza, in the fury of his zeal, caused the bones of the excommunicated monarch to be exhumed. See Dante Purgatorio, Canto III. 1. 107, " Se 'I Pastor di Cosenza," etc., and the various commentaries on this passage.] THE END. Cambridge : Stereotyped and Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co.