Classic Poem

Madoc had paused awhile; but every eye
Still watch'd his lips, and every voice was hush'd.
Soon as I leap'd ashore, pursues the Lord
Of Ocean, prostrate on my face I fell,
Kiss'd the dear earth, and pray'd with thankful tears.
Hard by a brook was flowing; — never yet,
Even from the gold-tipp'd horn of victory,
With harp and song, amid my father's hall,
Pledged I so sweet a draught, as lying there,
Beside that streamlet's brink! — to feel the ground,
To quaff the cool, clear water, to inhale
The breeze of land, while fears and dangers past
Recurr'd and heighten'd joy, as summer storms
Make the fresh evening lovelier!
To the shore
The natives throng'd; astonish'd, they beheld
Our winged barks, and gazed with wonderment
On the strange garb, the bearded countenance,
And the white skin, in all unlike themselves.
I see with what inquiring eyes you ask,
What men were they? Of dark-brown color, tinged
With sunny redness; wild of eye; their brows
So smooth, as never yet anxiety
Nor busy thought had made a furrow there;
Beardless, and each to each of lineaments
So like, they seem'd but one great family.
Their loins were loosely cinctured, all beside
Bare to the sun and wind; and thus their limbs,
Unmanacled, display'd the truest forms
Of strength and beauty. Fearless sure they were,
And, while they eyed us, grasp'd their spears, as if,
Like Britain's injured but unconquer'd sons,
They too had known how perilous it was
To let a stranger, if he came in arms,
Set foot upon their land.
But soon the guise
Of men nor purporting nor fearing ill
Gain'd confidence; their wild, distrustful looks
Assumed a milder meaning; over one
I cast my mantle, on another's head
The velvet bonnet placed, and all was joy.
We now besought for food; at once they read
Our gestures; but I cast a hopeless eye
On hills and thickets, woods, and marshy plains,
A waste of rank luxuriance all around.
Thus musing, to a lake I follow'd them,
Left when the rivers to their summer course
Withdrew; they scatter'd on its water drugs
Of such strange potency, that soon the shoals,
Coop'd there by Nature prodigally kind,
Floated inebriate. As I gazed, a deer
Sprung from the bordering thicket; the true shaft
Scarce with the distant victim's blood had stain'd
Its point, when instantly he dropp'd and died,
Such deadly juice imbued it; yet on this
We made our meal unharm'd; and I perceived
The wisest leech that ever in our world
Cull'd herbs of hidden virtue, was to these
A child in knowledge.
Sorrowing we beheld
The night come on; but soon did night display
More wonders than it veil'd: innumerous tribes
From the wood-cover swarm'd, and darkness made
Their beauties visible; one while they stream'd
A bright blue radiance upon flowers which closed
Their gorgeous colors from the eye of day;
Now, motionless and dark, eluded search,
Self-shrouded; and anon, starring the sky,
Rose like a shower of fire.
Our friendly hosts
Now led us to the hut, our that night's home,
A rude and spacious dwelling: twisted boughs,
And canes, and withies formed the walls and roof;
And from the unhewn trunks which pillar'd it,
Low nets of interwoven reeds were hung.
With shouts of honor here they gather'd round me,
Ungarmented my limbs, and in a net
With softest feathers lined, a pleasant couch,
They laid and left me.
To our ships return'd,
After soft sojourn here, we coasted on,
Insatiate of the wonders and the charms
Of earth, and air, and sea. Thy summer woods
Are lovely, O my mother isle! the birch
Light bending on thy banks, thy elmy vales,
Thy venerable oaks! — But there, what forms
Of beauty clothed the inlands and the shore!
All these in stateliest growth, and mixt with these
Dark spreading cedar, and the cypress tall,
Its pointed summit waving to the wind
Like a long beacon flame; and loveliest
Amid a thousand strange and lovely shapes,
The lofty palm, that with its nuts supplied
Beverage and food; they edged the shore, and crown'd
The far-off highland summits, their straight stems
Bare, without leaf or bough, erect and smooth,
Their tresses nodding like a crested helm,
The plumage of the grove.
Will ye believe
The wonders of the ocean? how its shoals
Sprang from the wave, like flashing light, — took wing,
And, twinkling with a silver glitterance,
Flew through the air and sunshine? yet were these
To sight less wondrous than the tribe who swam,
Following like fowlers with uplifted eye
Their falling quarry. — language cannot paint
Their splendid tints; though in blue ocean seen,
Blue, darkly, deeply, beautifully blue,
In all its rich variety of shades,
Suffused with glowing gold.
Heaven, too, had there
Its wonders: — from a deep, black, heavy cloud,
What shall I say? — a shoot, — a trunk, — an arm
Came down: — yea! like a Demon's arm,
The waters; Ocean smoked beneath its tone
And rose like dust before the whirlwind's
But we sail'd onward over tranquil seas,
Wafted by airs so exquisitely mild,
That even to breathe became an act of will,
And sense, and pleasure. Not a cloud, by day
With purple islanded the dark-blue deep;
By night the quiet billows heaved and glance
Under the moon, — that heavenly moon! so bright
That many a midnight have I paced the deck,
Forgetful of the hours of due repose;
Yea, till the Sun, in his full majesty,
Went forth, like God beholding his own works.

Once, when a chief was feasting us on shore
A captive served the food: I mark'd the youth
For he had features of a gentler race;
And oftentimes his eye was fix'd on me,
With looks of more than wonder. We return'd
At evening to our ships; at night a voice
Came from the sea, the intelligible voice
Of earnest supplication: he had swum
To trust our mercy; up the side he sprang,
And look'd among the crew, and singling me,
Fell at my feet. Such friendly tokenings
As our short commerce with the native tribes
Had taught, I proffer'd, and sincerity
Gave force and meaning to the half-learnt ferm
For one we needed who might speak for us;
And well I liked the youth, — the open lines,
Which character'd his face, the fearless heart,
Which gave at once and won full confidence,
So that night at my feet Lincoya slept.

When I display'd whate'er might gratify,
Whate'er surprise, with most delight he view'd
Our arms, the iron helm, the pliant mail,
The buckler strong to save; and then he shook
The lance, and grasp'd the sword, and turn'd.
With vehement words and gestures, every lime
Working with one strong passion; and he placed
The falchion in my hand, and gave the shield.
And pointed south and west, that I should go.
To conquer and protect; anon he wept
Aloud, and clasp'd my knees, and falling, fain
He would have kiss'd my feet. Went we to shore
Then would he labor restlessly to show
A better place lay onward; and in the sand
To south and west he drew the line of coast,
And figured how a mighty river there
Ran to the sea. The land bent westward soon
And, thus confirm'd, we voyaged on to seek
The river inlet, following at the will
Of our new friend: and we learnt after him,
Well pleased and proud to teach, what this call'd,
What that, with no unprofitable pains.
Nor light the joy I felt at hearing first
The pleasant accents of my native tongue,
Albeit in broken words and tones uncouth,
Come from these foreign lips.
At length we
Where the great river, amid shoals, and banks
And islands, growth of its own gathering speed
Through many a branching channel, wide and full,
Rush'd in the main. The gale was strong; and safe,
Amid the uproar of conflicting tides,
Our gallant vessels rode. A stream as broad
And turbid, when it leaves the Land of Hills,
Old Servern rolls; but banks so fair as these
Old Servern views not in his Land of Hills,
Nor even where his turbid waters swell,
And sully the salt sea.
So we sail'd on
By shores now cover'd with impervious woods,
Now stretching wide and low, a reedy waste,
And now through vales where earth profusely pour'd
Her treasures, gather'd from the first of days.
Sometimes a savage tribe would welcome us,
By wonder from their lethargy of life
Awaken'd; then again we voyaged on
Through tracts all desolate, for days and days,
League after league, one green and fertile mead,
That fed a thousand herds.
A different scene
Rose on our view, of mount on mountain piled,
Which when I see again in memory,
Star-gazing Idris's stupendous seat
Seems dwarf'd, and Snowdon, with its eagle haunts,
Shrinks, and is dwindled like a Saxon hill.

Here, with Cadwallon and a chosen band,
I left the ships. Lincoya guided us
A toilsome way among the heights; at dusk
We reach'd the village skirts; he bade us halt,
And raised his voice; the elders of the land
Came forth, and led us to an ample hut,
Which in the centre of their dwellings stood,
The Stranger's House. They eyed us wondering;
Yet not for wonder ceased they to observe
Their hospitable rites; from hut to hut
The tidings ran that strangers were arrived,
Fatigued, and hungry, and athirst; anon,
Each from his means supplying us, came food
And beverage, such as cheers the weary man.