("Jersey dort dans les flots.")
{Bk. III. xiv., Oct. 8, 1854.}
Dear Jersey! jewel jubilant and green,
'Midst surge that splits steel ships, but sings to thee!
Thou fav'rest Frenchmen, though from England seen,
Oft tearful to that mistress "North Countree";
Returned the third time safely here to be,
I bless my bold Gibraltar of the Free.
Yon lighthouse stands forth like a fervent friend,
One who our tempest buffets back with zest,
And with twin-steeple, eke our helmsman's end,
Forms arms that beckon us upon thy breast;
Rose-posied pillow, crystallized with spray,
Where pools pellucid mirror sunny ray.
A frigate fretting yonder smoothest sky,
Like pauseless petrel poising o'er a wreck,
Strikes bright athwart the dearly dazzled eye,
Until it lessens to scarce certain speck,
'Neath Venus, sparkling on the agate-sprinkled beach,
For fisher's sailing-signal, just and true,
Until Aurora frights her from the view.
In summer, steamer-smoke spreads as thy veil,
And mists in winter sudden screen thy sight,
When at thy feet the galley-breakers wail
And toss their tops high o'er the lofty flight
Of horrid storm-worn steps with shark-like bite,
That only ope to swallow up in spite.
L'ENVOY.
But penitent in calm, thou givest a balm,
To many a man who's felt thy rage,
And many a sea-bird—thanks be heard!—
Thou shieldest—sea-bird—exiled bard and sage.
THEN, MOST, I SMILE.
("Il est un peu tard.")
{Bk. III. xxx., Oct. 30, 1854.}
Late it is to look so proud,
Daisy queen! come is the gloom
Of the winter-burdened cloud!—
"But, in winter, most I bloom!"
Star of even! sunk the sun!
Lost for e'er the ruddy line;
And the earth is veiled in dun,—
"Nay, in darkness, best I shine!"
O, my soul! art 'bove alarm,
Quaffing thus the cup of gall—
Canst thou face the grave with calm?—
"Yes, the Christians smile at all."