SEA PIECE.

SUBLIME is thy prospect, thou proud rolling Ocean,

And Fancy surveys thee with solemn delight; When thy mountainous billows are wild in commotion,

And the tempest is roused by the spirits of night.

When the moon-beams thro' winter-clouds faintly appearing,

At intervals gleam on the dark-swelling wave; And the mariner, dubious, now hoping, now fearing,

May hear the stern Genius of hurricanes rave.

But now, when thine anger has long been subsiding,

And the tempest has folded the might of its wing;

How clear is thy surface, in loveliness gliding, For April has open'd the portals of Spring.

Now soft on thy bosom the orient is beaming, And tremulous breezes are waving thy breast; On thy mirror the clouds and the shadows are streaming,

And morning and glory the picture have drest.

No gale but the balmy Favonian is blowing,

In coral caves resting, the winds are asleep; And, rich in the sun-beam, yon pendants are glowing,

That tinge with their colours the silvery deep.

Yet smile or be dreadful, thou still-changing Ocean,

Tremendous or lovely, resistless or still; I view thee adoring, with hallowed emotion, The Power that can hush or arouse thee at will. HEMANS.

THE WITNESSES.

IN Ocean's wide domains,

Half buried in the sands,

Lie skeletons in chains,

With shackled feet and hands.

Beyond the fall of dews,

Deeper than plummet lies,
Float ships with all their crews,
No more to sink or rise.

There the black slave-ship swims,
Freighted with human forms,
Whose fettered, fleshless limbs
Are not the sport of stormis.

THE WITNESSES.

These are the bones of slaves;
They gleam from the abyss;
They cry from yawning waves,
"We are the Witnesses !"

Within earth's wide domains
Are markets for men's lives;
Their necks are galled with chains,
Their rists are cramped with gyves.

Dead bodies, that the kite

In deserts makes its prey;

Murders, that with affright

Scare schoolboys from their play!

All evil thoughts and deeds;
Anger, and lust, and pride;

The foulest, rankest weeds,

That choke life's groaning tide!

These are the woes of slaves;
They glare from the abyss;
They cry, from unknown graves,
"We are the Witnesses!"

LONGFELLOW.

235

DEPARTURE FROM VIENNA.

YES! thou art lovely with thy rose-crowned

brow,

The bloom of passion on thy radiant face, When past thou fliest in the dance, as now, Amid youth's eager glance and fond embrace. To sink, forgetful of the world, to rest

Within thy arms, by thy enchantments bound, That might, methinks, a warrior's steps arrest, And tempt ev'n gods to tread this dangerous ground.

But woman,

I do fly thee!-I will not Kneel to thee,-of thy convert throng make

one;

Potiphar's wife!-thy purple tempts me not-
Let go my mantle !-for I will begone!
Before my vision floats a holier light;
A chaster form, my spirit's purest bride!
Us life, and truth, and poetry unite-
By German vows eternally allied.

Her eye is beautiful, though less than thine;
It beams with peace, but thine with wild desire :
Thy kiss is flame, but hers, if not divine,

Is a pure, breathing, and engladdening fire.

DEPARTURE FROM VIENNA.

237

Thou dragg'st thy lovers down from hour to

hour,

Nearer and faster to earth's misty face;

She soars aloft with glorifying power,

And bears me with her in her dear embrace.

Her cares and sorrows never dim thy brow,
But her proud joys thy heart can ne'er distend;
Light, flattering one,-the bliss thou dost not

know

Boldly with slaves and tyrants to contend.
Child of the happy! thou unto the poor

And to the captive ne'er thy tears hast given;
Hast never mingled with earth's contest sore
The heart of peace and pity sent from heaven.

Go! revel and carouse each coming morrow!
Strive the swift hours by violence to hold,
But still remorse thy countenance shall furrow,
And discontent heap wrinkles, fold on fold.
Pass but a night-and the rose-garlands perish-
And down thy wizard realm of charms is hurled:
But in eternal green the laurels flourish-
And she-the other-is the abiding world.

Thou knowst her not,-no, never canst thou know her!

Ye two can never wander hand in hand! [power Thou canst not name her name,-hast not the Her nature or her life to understand.