Classic Poem

— Sooner shall Whales their liquid world forsake,
— And seek for pastime in the freezing lake;
— Sooner shall endless night o'er Greenland reign,
— And cheering sunshine never gild the plain,
— Than I, in thought or word, my love forego,
— Fixt as my native frost, pure as my snow. —
Now swift as bounding Hart away she fled,
And travers'd hill or dale, as fancy led;
Resolv'd to see her native hutt no more,
Till Anningait she fees on Greenland's shore;
A willing exile from her father's board,
Her wants supply'd from Nature's varied hoard;
She oft high cliffs ascends, and eager eyes
The distant main in curling billows rise;
Each time new hope her anxious bosom cheers,
Now more than hope, for lo! the boat appears;
The wish'd-for bark in loaded pomp returns,
Wild with the joy, no longer now she mourns;
Swift as an arrow, darts o'er hill and dale,
Now scours the plain, now skims along the vale;
Till, faint with joy, she gains the pebbled shore,
And hails the bark, and hears the dashing oar;
Then, with loud rapture, calls her destin'd mate,
Her life, her lord, her much-lov'd Anningait;
No well-known accents her fond hopes repay,
Trembling she wonders at th' unkind delay;
Eager the cruel reason she demands —
The dropping oars forsake the rowers' hands;
Aghast they gaze, as Anningait she calls,
New-rising fear their trembling hearts appals;
The youth, impatient, long before was gone,
In a swift boat, unloaded and alone;
Their tedious voyage love could ne'er approve,
What oars, what winds, are fleet enough for love!
But how or where he was, they knew no more
Than she, just lifeless, on the crowded shore:
With horror struck, immoveable she stands,
And wets, with copious tears, the thirsty sands;
The virgin train in social woe attend,
Bewailing round the anguish of their friend;
Her weeping kindred strive to soothe her woes,
And from each friendly tongue persuasion flows;
They try to win her home, and calm her mind,
But she was deaf as rocks, and heedless as the wind:
With gentle force, at last, they brought her there,
And sought each lenitive to soothe her care;
Then her soft couch with sleekest skins they spread,
And led her gently to her long-left bed;
Then pray'd the downy God her eyes to seal,
And that sweet peace again her breast might heal:
She thankful heard, but knew their kindness vain,
Her life, bereft of Anningait, was pain;
Yet lulls her grief with sad reflection's pow'r,
That all unheeded, in the silent hour,
She might with safety gain the late-left shore,
And ev'ry terror, for her love, explore.
With double pain the tardy moments fly,
Till all was hush'd, and clos'd each friendly eye;
Then soon she left her once-lov'd place of rest,
Where Peace long dwelt, tho' now no more a guest;
Softly she stole her sleeping friends to view,
And look'd, and sigh'd, a tender last adieu;
While filial tenderness her bosom tore,
That those dear objects she must see no more:
But what, O! Nature, are thy feeble ties?
When love inspires, thy sweet sensation flies!
The pebbly shore her fear-wing'd feet regain,
There seiz'd a boat, then boldly plough'd the main. —
No more her Greenland's coast the Maiden trod,
Nor yet the Youth — Some think an angry God,
The potent Genius of the flood or rock,
Fierce Haffgufa, or dreaded Amarock,
Detain'd them prisoners in their coral caves,
Whose pearly pavements shine thro' lucid waves;
Others, with kinder confidence, declare,
That, gently wafted thro' the yielding air,
They now, bright stars, for ever fixt above,
Fit emblems shine of constancy and love.