Classic Poem

The tropic twilight falls, the deep is still,
All turmoils of the busy day are past,
From the calm land no voice comes deep, or shrill,
No murmur from the world of waters vast,
Save its own ceaseless sound, that breeze, or blast
Now chafes not into dull & thunderous moan;
The faintest gleam of eve is o'er it cast
And O how sweet! how holy! is the tone
That swell[s] from each green wave, then trembling dies alone

There's not a boat upon the darkened billow,
Theres not an oar dips in the moonlight main
Each islander rests on his happy pillow
Each swift canoe has sought its home again
And neither ringing shout nor trem'bling strain
Comes from the shore to break the green sea's rest
All earth lies hushed to watch the gorgeous wane
Of that bright sunset, from her burning breast
To see the light of heaven die, dim, & soft, and blest

Fair, southern Islands! they are sweetly sleeping
While the stars gather, in their heav'n above,
While sky-breathed airs, the deep dark woods are sweeping
In gales too low to wake the slumbering dove,
Almost too faint to bend the palmy grove:
Intenslier purple, grows that kindling dome,
And brighter flash those orbs of light & love
Sweet, tropic Islands! ye are beauty's home
O! who from your bright shores to colder lands would roam.

Midnight is near, that bark upon the water
Has furled her sails and set her watch on deck;
She rides at anchor, Neptune's noblest daughter,
The very waves seem subject to her beck
They dare not dash her glory to a wreck!
How the pure foam, curls round her mighty bows!
As fair as braided pearls, on beauty's neck
How the wild wave more softly gliding flows!
Where that proud Ocean-queen, far down, her vast shadow throws.

A wondrous Stranger! from afar appearing
Long as she walked the path that leaves no track,
And her brave crew, a thousand hazards daring,
Still scorned to turn their noble vessel back,
No heart fell cold, no hand grew faint and slack,
As on with heav'n above and waves beneath,
And round a wild horizon, densely black,
They stretched before the trade-gale's fiery breath,
Looked full of joy to hope, and fearlessly to Death.

Now all is tranquil, they have gained their bourne
The far, blest Islands of the stormless sea
Those happy shores, where man may cease to mourn
Where, all is peace & bliss and harmony
Gardens, of many a wondrous flower and tree
Homes, of strange birds with wings of rainbow light
Shapes formed by nature in her fantasie
Glowing, and fresh, and fair, and Eden bright
But these were now unseen, beneath the veil of night.

And one within that anchored bark is sleeping
The youngest, fairest, bravest of her crew
O how the stars his brows with light are steeping!
The sails, to his lone berth they tremble through
He sleeps on deck; and many a pearl of dew
Gleams in his light-hair as unroofed he lies,
And from th' abyss of pure, deep speckless blue
A sweet gale round him wildly sings & sighs,
A dirge, comes to the ear so sad each cadence dies

Would he might waken! some sad dream is on him
How heavily the breath flows from his breast!
Some unseen influence, strangely dwells upon him,
Some mournful memory will not let him rest;
Whate'er it was, he calm's, th' unwelcome guest
Has passed away, with all its mystery
And now, his clasped hands, to his bosom prest
He turns his fair face to the solemn sky,
His forehead woos again the low breeze wandering by

Yes, he has dreamed, of one now far away,
His own sweet Florence, she, who was his bride
E're thirteen summer suns had flung their ray
With gentlest glow on her youth's springing pride;
O! often had he wandered by her side
Through woodland-walks and alleys dimly bright
Too happy to discern, how fast the tide
Of time, was lapsing into shadowy night;
How swift, the gloaming veiled each parting ray of light

And now, he saw her in a lofty chamber
Solemn & grandly vast, he knew it well,
As as, a light stole down from lamps of amber
The veil of years, and distance, sundered fell
Faintly there tolled her father's castle bell.
It spoke the midnight hour, then all was hushed
Round on the pannels, pictured visions swell
Where forms of buried beauty, voiceless blushed
And the rich silent light, more softly o'er them gushed.

Calm, tenderly and pure the moon was shining,
Through one vast window, its white lustre streamed;
On her it fell, her loveliness refining
To beauty, such as mortal never dreamed
Her blue eyes looked to heaven, how bright they beamed!
How their deep zones caught glory from the sky
And as the long fringe o'er them, trembling gleamed,
Their centered light was almost mystery
They shone like mirrored stars, that glassed in dark waves lie

Henry! she looks to Heaven, through that vast sea,
That boundless o'cean, decked with Isles of light,
Are her thoughts travelling to their home in thee?
Wakes thy remembered form the radiance bright
That fills her eye? a touch of Love's own might
Has surely clothed her in such, living grace
'Tis not the calm serenity of night
That brings the blood so swiftly to her face
Like the clear flush of wine, seen through a crystal vase

Yes, it is love, but not such love as thine,
Not that pure, young affection of the breast
That used to breathe of peace and bliss divine,
And o'er her white brow fling a shade of rest
Oft' with his hand to her's in transport pressed
Henry has watched that calm fall on her cheek
And while his own heart felt most deeply blest
Has wished a blush of bashfulness to break
What seemed to him, too, still, too sisterly, too meek.

She's not alone, there's one beside her, bending
Is it a fiend? the form is dark and high,
A magic to the solemn chamber lending,
Flashes through darkness, that refulgent eye;
Its fixed gaze, calls that blush and wakes that sigh,
And well might timid maiden shrink and quail
For never yet, a shape on earth passed by,
So like a spirit in a mortal veil
The cheek that glows for it, will soon turn deadly pale.

At once the chamber fades, in slow decay,
The lights are quenched that erst so softly shone
The dream revolves, the vast hall melts away
And gleaming arch, and golden lamp are gone
And all is dim, and imageless, and lone
But Trees are rustling in the darkened air
And mossy grass the pavement springs upon
And for the vanished tapers' dazzling glare
There dawns a gentle gleam, faint, mellow, mildly fair.

Now o'er the scene a mighty wood is sweeping
And long deep, glades, on through it glimmering go
Rays of the moon, the spectral boughs are steeping
They wave in winds whose voice sounds wild & low
And far, far off a river's dreary flow
Swells ceaseless though the gale at times be still
And though the strange sighs wandering to & fro
Like spirit wailings cease, the heart to thrill
Yet the swift waves rush on, of that unpausing rill

The maiden & the shape, stand in the lustre
Flung from the sky on that star-silvered glade,
Those mighty arching trees that round them cluster
The flood of glory, with their shadows braid,
And when a sudden wind amongst them played
They swung like giant-phantoms on the grass
All their boughs trembled, all their foliage swayed
Ghosts such as they, in cloudy gloomy might pass
Amid the gleaming pomp, of some dread wizards glass.

The maiden weeps, clear, moonlit tears are sparkling
Upon her cheeks, fast from her eyes they gush
She looks to him, his brow grows strangely darkling,
His cheek is shadowed, with a sudden flush
Of earnest, eager triumph, that rich blush
Fades not, before her mute and sad appeal,
Now passion's waves of conflict o'er her rush
The sob, the tear, the pallid brow reveal
How wildly strong the love, her heart & spirit feel.

O! Henry knows his Florence loves him not,
Not as he would be loved, not as his bride
Their youthfulness tenderness is all forgot,
All vanished in the rapid, burning tide
That flows, resistless from those eyes of pride,
Flashing into her heart so fixedly
The voice of that strange vision by her side
Brings with its deep, sweet music other joy
Than that which erewhile woke to bless her fair-haired boy.

The token of their love is on her finger,
A golden circlet, like a thread of light
And round her small sweet, lip there seems to linger
Some saddenning touch of memory's holy might
The tears too, glancing as the lamps of night
From their clear sources, are not tears of bliss
But almost e're they tremble into sight,
Her stately lover dries them with a kiss
And soothes her spirit's awe with some proud, warm caress.

Sudden a voice came to the dreamer's ear,
Mournful, and sadly murmured, low and dread
At first it wailed far off, then whispered near,
Percy, thy Marian deems her bridegroom dead!
Lover! She mourns not! when the rumour spread
She strove to quench the joy that filled her breast
Yes when she heard, that the unfathomed bed
Of the wild Sea, was by her Henry prest,
She wept that she should feel, so deeply, truly blest.

And Percy! she shall be thy rival's bride,
She from his hand shall take the marriage wreath
And standing at the altar side by side,
Each unto each resolves of faith shall breathe
Oaths of eternal fealty till death
And Hill, and plain shall with that bridal ring
Breezes shall waft it with their balmiest breath,
Minstrels shall raise, the song, and strike the string,
And wide the fires of joy like beacon lights shall spring.

Full glad shall be her life, in bright Halls dwelling
Beneath the awful light of those loved eyes.
The fount of perfect bliss for ever swelling
Deep, fathomless, exhaustless in the skies
Shall sparkling, to her very lip arise;
Yet there are warnings of an early end,
There breathes afar, a dreary sound of sighs!
And cold the tears of lonely woe descend,
Shades of untimely death, how silently ye blend!

Percy! thy love, so strong, so unreturned,
Shall be avenged, on earth her time is brief
The radiant Form, for whom, her spirit burned
Shall smile awhile then leave her bowed with grief
The reaper's sickle, shall cut down the sheaf,
While the young corn is budding, fresh and green
She shall be gathered like a springing leaf,
One year, and that fair plant is no more seen,
Few ev'n shall know where once its sunny place has been
And never from that vision woke
The journeyer of the deep
Ere the pale light of morning broke
He slept his final sleep
The coral banks, of those far Isles,
Now pillow Percy's head
Their blessed moon for ever, smiles
Above his lonely bed
And many a spicy Zephyr, sings
Sweet from those radiant skies
And many a bright bird waves its wings
Around where Henry lies
No more, his rayless eye-balls shine,
No more his curls are fair
For tangled sea-weeds wet with brine
Are garlanding his hair

But how he died, no tongue may tell
No eye was there to see
Yet the winds that were his requiem knell
They moaned him mournfully

Some say the deck was red with blood,
And wet with trampling feet;
It recks not, he sleeps in the secret flood
With surge for his winding-sheet

Dark were the rumours, and faintly spoken
That came to his native shore,
Less by speech, than by sign & token,
The crew those rumours bore.

There was no sound of wail, and weeping
Heard in his own proud home
When the whisper came that he was sleeping
Beneath the green sea-foam.

His father's brow, first lit then darkled,
He smiled a demon's smile
And in his piercing eye there sparkled
A glimpse of hell the while.

Henry! thy name still lives in story,
Where the Percies' dark woods swell,
And it will live, till time grows hoary
A talisman, a spell!

And where wild Wansbeck's waves are foaming
In Grassmere's lonely vale,
At the dim, still hour of solemn gloaming
I oft' have heard thy tale

The peasant o'er his calm hearth bending,
Will speak of Percy's fame,
The name of Lady Florence blending
Young Sailor! with thy name.

Thy dreaded Sire! thine awful father!
Of him they seldom speak,
For then the clouds of horror gather,
And words of mystery break

Thy rival! every spirit thrills
When that proud name is heard
And light each flashing eye-ball fills
As at a battle-word

But not of hatred, not of scorn
They see him in his gorgeous morn
Their country's living sword
And wild, and wicked though he be
Though his sun rises stormily
He is their own young Lord!

Yet Henry rest! his name can never
Ring through thy tomb profound,
And thou may'st sleep unmoved for ever
By that enkindling sound.