Thou hast been called, O Sleep! the friend of Woe; But 'tis the happy who have called thee so.
Another day, another night, are gone;
A second passes, and a third wanes on.
So long she paced the shore,
So often on the beach she took her stand,
That the wild Sea-Birds knew her, and no more
Fled when she passed beside them on the strand.
Bright shine the golden summits in the light
Of the noon-sun, and lovelier far by night
Their moonlight glories o'er the sea they shed.
Fair is the dark-green deep; by night and day,
Unvexed with storms, the peaceful billows play,
As when they closed upon Ladurlad's head;
The firmament above is bright and clear;
The sea-fowl, lords of water, air, and land,
Joyous alike upon the wing appear,
Or when they ride the waves or walk the sand;
Beauty and light and joy are everywhere;
There is no sadness and no sorrow here,
Save what that single human breast contains,
But, oh! what hopes and fears and pains are there!
Seven miserable days the expectant Maid, From earliest dawn till evening, watched the shore. Hope left her then; and in her heart she said, Never should she behold her Father more.
WHEN the broad Ocean on Ladurlad's head
Had closed, and arched him o'er,
With steady tread he held his way
Adown the sloping shore.
The dark-green waves with emerald hue
Imbue the beams of day;
And on the wrinkled sand below,
Rolling their mazy network to and fro,
Light shadows shift and play.
The hungry Shark, at scent of prey,
Toward Ladurlad darted;
Beholding then that human form erect,
How like a God the depths he trod,
Appalled the monster started,
And in his fear departed.
Onward Ladurlad went with heart elate, And now hath reached the Ancient City's gate.
Wondering he stood awhile to gaze
Upon the works of elder days.
The brazen portals open stood,
Even as the fearful multitude
Had left them, when they fled
Before the rising flood.
High overhead, sublime,
The mighty gateway's storied roof was spread,
Dwarfing the puny piles of younger time.
With the deeds of days of yore
That ample roof was sculptured o'er;
And many a godlike form there met his eye,
And many an emblem dark of mystery.
Through these wide portals oft had Baly rode
Triumphant from his proud abode,
When, in his greatness, he bestrode
The Aullay, hugest of four-footed kind,
The Aullay-Horse, that in his force,
With elephantine trunk, could bind
And lift the elephant, and on the wind
Whirl him away with sway and swing,
Even like a pebble from the practised sling.
Those streets which never, since the days of yore,
By human footstep had been visited,-
Those streets which never more
A human foot shall tread,
Ladurlad trod. In sunlight and sea-green,
The thousand Palaces were seen
Of that proud City, whose superb abodes
Seemed reared by Giants for the immortal Gods.
How silent and how beautiful they stand,
Like things of Nature! the eternal rocks
Themselves not firmer. Neither hath the sand
Drifted within their gates and choked their doors,
Nor slime defiled their pavements and their floors.
Did, then, the Ocean wage
His war for love and envy, not in rage,
O thou fair City! that he spared thee thus?
Art thou Varounin's capital and court,
Where all the Sea-Gods for delight resort,
A place too godlike to be held by us,
The poor, degenerate children of the Earth?
So thought Ladurlad, as he looked around,
Weening to hear the sound
Of Mermaid's shell, and song
Of choral throng from some imperial hall,
Wherein the Immortal Powers, at festival,
Their high carousals keep.
But all is silence dread,
Silence profound and dead,
The everlasting stillness of the Deep.
Through many a solitary street,
And silent market-place and lonely square, Armed with the mighty Curse, behold him fare! And now his feet attain that royal fane
Where Baly held of old his awful reign. What once had been the Gardens spread around, Fair Gardens, once which wore perpetual green, Where all sweet flowers through all the year were found,
And all fair fruits were through all seasons seen
A place of Paradise, where each device
Of emulous Art with Nature strove to vie;
And Nature, on her part,
Called forth new powers wherewith to vanquish Art. The Swerga-God himself, with envious eye, Surveyed those peerless gardens in their prime; Nor ever did the Lord of Light,
Who circles Earth and Heaven upon his way, Behold from eldest time a goodlier sight
Than were the groves which Baly, in his might, Made for his chosen place of solace and delight.
It was a Garden still beyond all price; Even yet it was a place of Paradise: For where the mighty Ocean could not spare, There had he, with his own creation, Sought to repair his work of devastation. And here were coral bowers,
And grots of madrepores,
And banks of sponge, as soft and fair to eye
As ere was mossy bed
Whereon the Wood-Nymphs lie
With languid limbs, in summer's sultry hours.
Here, too, were living flowers,
Which, like a bud compacted,
Their purple cups contracted,
And now, in open blossom spread,
Stretched like green anthers many a seeking head.
And arborets of jointed stone were there,
And plants of fibres fine as silkworm's thread;
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