Gustavus Vasa / and other poems

by William Sidney Walker

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"My soul, thro' endless ages doom'd to live,
A quenchless flame, must every sphere survive:
Whence, then, these sorrows in her mortal times;
Chain'd down to woe, ere yet involved in crimes?
This cloud unpierced, that darkens all her way?
Is this the dawn of an eternal day?—
Death, death alone, can chase th' unfathom'd gloom,
And light the mazes of my doubtful doom!"

He spoke; and gazing on the watery grave.
Approach'd with tranquil step the fatal wave,
Where the green verge with easy slope descends,
And, rippling on the sand, the water ends.
When lo! some power, with deep resistless force,
Check'd his firm soul, and stopp'd his fearless course;
He felt its languid influence thro' his breast,
And, stretch'd in sleep, the grassy margin press'd;
His weary soul to balmy rest resign'd,
And fancy bore these visions to his mind.

On a broad bank, alone, he seem'd to stand,
Whose flowery limit closed a spacious land.
Around, the cultured plains appeared to glow
With various hues: a river roll'd below:
Unvex'd by storms, the tranquil waters ran:
On heaven's blue verge calm shines the mounting sun.
As waken'd from a dream of woe, amazed,
On woods, and skies, and murmuring streams, he gazed:
Calm, silent raptures flow'd thro' all his breast,
And seem'd the foretaste of eternal rest.

His eye, now settled, mark'd a little boat,
Which on the nearest waves appear'd to float:
Its airy sail with snow-white radiance blazed;
Its blue prow tinged the waters.—As he gazed,
Lo! the clouds opened, and with sudden glare
A dazzling form descended thro' the air.
Swift as a sea-bird darting o'er the deep,
Or meteor hovering with aërial sweep,
He flew, and lighting radiant on the helm,
Cast a bright shadow o'er the watery realm.
He waved his hand; the Exile took the sign,
Embark'd, and join'd the messenger divine.

Smooth o'er the liquid plain the vessel steers;
A faint-reflected sun on every wave appears.
Swift o'er the stream it steers: on either side,
In murmurs low th' advancing waves divide.
Thro' cloudless skies the radiant orb of day,
Enthroned in light, held on his heavenly way;
A line of light along the ocean streams,
The white sails glisten in the golden beams.
Still, as they roll, the river's waters lave
With ceaseless flow the lily of the wave:
The willow-forests on its verdant side
Bathe their green tresses in the crystal tide:
The bending alders paint the floods, and seem
A waving curtain o'er the glassy stream.
Thro' the wide clouds and thro' the watery way
Calm Light and Silence held their boundless sway.

Now vanish'd from their eyes the lessening shore,
And nearer grew the ocean's sullen roar:
And when the sun-heaven's topmost dome had scaled,
The green-tinged waters of the deep they sailed.
The orb of day, faint-glittering from afar,
Now veil'd in gradual gloom his beamy car:
A hollow murmur thro' the blackening skies,
Rolls dismal on, and loudens as it flies:
The watery birds fly screaming from the steep,
And darkness settles on the shivering deep.
The wondering Exile, from the deck, beheld
The tempest grow, and clouds on clouds impell'd:
Far to the south their dusky legions bend,
And thence o'er heaven a gloomy line extend.
He heard th' approaching tempest's hollow sigh,
And cold despondence trembled in his eye—
And lo, it bursts! the boundless whirlwinds sweep,
Toss the light clouds, and tear the staggering deep
Sheer from its lowest caves—the smoking rain
Bursts in white torrents o'er the echoing main:
The fiery bolts uninterrupted roll
From sky to sky, and shake the stedfast pole:
Red volleying o'er the heavens with curving beam
The fitful lightnings dart a quivering gleam,
And, glancing thro' the raven plumes of night,
Shed o'er the deep a pale sepulchral light.

Swift to the Power unknown his eyes he rear'd—
No sign of comfort in the Power appear'd:
Silent he stood—when lo! another blast
Rends the strong sail, and shakes the tottering mast!
Now, by the mounting billows upward swung,
Trembling amid the darksome sky they hung;
Now seem'd to touch the fountains of the deep,
Where in eternal rest the waters sleep.
And now beneath a milder tempest's sway
Onward the rapid vessel bounds away;
When, lo! again—as if with thundering fall
Descended to the deep heaven's loosen'd wall,
Yells the fierce storm: beneath the furious shock,
Torn from its roots, the long-resisting rock
Falls prone; the sands, driven by the whirling sweep,
Boil up, and darken the discolour'd deep.

Still o'er the stormy waste they labour on,
Thro' bowling deserts and thro' paths unknown—
A long, long way! the lightnings flame around,
And winds and billows mix their mournful sound.
Still on they fare—'till thro' the ambient night
Bursts a third whirlwind with redoubled might;
The congregated clouds in one vast sweep
It drives, and bares the bosom of the deep.
The sail flies loose, the mast in fragments torn
O'er the black surface of the waves is borne
Louder, and longer, over heaven's wide field
Thro' the rent clouds the bellowing thunders peal'd:
In one blue sheet the streamy lightnings glare;
A thousand demons ride the flaming air,
O'er the dark waves a deeper horror cast,
And howl between the pauses of the blast.
And now 'twas silence all—a sulphurous smell
Spread round: a cloud arose with sudden swell;
Slow o'er the ocean's trembling waves it past,
And from its bosom, indistinct and vast,
A giant form advanced across the gloom
Of air, and pointed to the watery tomb.