Like some drear spectre from the grave unbound: Then, scaling youder cliff, prone o'er its brow He hung, in act to plunge amid the flood Scarce from that height discern'd. Nor reason's Nor ow'd submission to the will of Heaven, Restrains him; but, as passion whirls his thought, Fond expectation, that perchance escap'd, Though passing all belief, the frailer skiff, To which himself had borne th' unhappy fair, May yet be seen. Around, o'er sea and shore, He roll'd his ardent eye; but nought around On land or wave within his ken appears, Nor skiff, nor floating corse, on which to shed The last sad tear, and lay the covering mould! And now, wide open'd by the wakeful hours Heaven's orient gate, forth on her progress comes Aurora smiling, and her purple lamp
Lifts high o'er earth and sea: while, all-unveil'd, The vast horizon on Amyntor's eye
Pours full its scenes of wonder, wildly great, Magnificently various. From this steep, Diffus'd immense in rolling prospect lay The northern deep. Amidst, from space to space, Her numerous isles, rich gems of Albion's crown, As slow th' ascending mists disperse in air, Shoot gradual from her bosom: and beyond, Like distant clouds blue-floating on the verge Of evening skies, break forth the dawning hills. A thousand landscapes! barren some and bare, Rock pil'd on rock, amazing, up to Heaven, Of horrid grandeur: some with sounding ash, Or oak broad-shadowing, or the spiry growth Of waving pine high-plum'd, and all beheld More lovely in the Sun's adorning beam, Who now, fair-rising o'er yon eastern cliff, The vernal verdure tinctures gay with gold.
Meanwhile Aurelius, wak'd from sweet repose, Repose that Temperance sheds in timely dews On all who live to her, his mournful guest Came forth to hail, as hospitable rites And Virtue's rule enjoin: but first to him, Spring of all charity, who gave the heart With kindly sense to glow, his matin-song, Superior duty, thus the sage addrest:
"Fountain of light! from whom yon orient Sun First drew his splendour; Source of life and love! Whose smile now wakes o'er Earth's rekindling face The boundless blush of spring; O! First and Best! Thy essence, though from human sight and search, Though from the climb of all created thought, Ineffably remov'd; yet man himself, Thy lowest child of reason, man may read Unbounded power, intelligence supreme, The Maker's hand, on all his works imprest, In ebaracters coëval with the Sun,
And with the Sun to last; from world to world, From age to age, in every clime, disclos'd, Sole revelation through all time the same. Hail, universal Goodness! with full stream For ever flowing from beneath the throne
To days of future life; or whether now The mortal hour is instant, still vouchsafe, Parent and friend, to guide me blameless on Through this dark scene of errour and of ill, Thy truth to light me, and thy peace to cheer. All else, of me unask'd, thy will supreme Withhold or grant: and let that will be done."
This from the soul in silence breath'd sincere, The hill's steep side with firm elastic step He lightly scal'd: such health the frugal board, The morn's fresh breath that exercise respires In mountain-walks, and conscience free from blame, Our life's best cordial, can through age prolong. There, lost in thought, and self-abandon'd, lay The man unknown; nor heard approach his host, Nor rais'd his drooping head. Aurelius, mov'd By soft compassion, which the savage scene, Shut up and barr'd amid surrounding seas From human commerce, quicken'd into sense Of sharper sorrow, thus apart began.
"O sight, that from the eye of wealth or pride, Ev'n in their hour of vainest thought, might draw A feeling tear; whom yesterday beheld By love and fortune crown'd, of all possest That Fancy, tranc'd in fairest vision, dreams; Now lost to all, each hope that softens life, Each bliss that cheers; there, on the damp earth Beneath a heaven unknown, behold him now! And let the gay, the fortunate, the great, The proud, be taught, what now the wretched feel, The happy have to fear. O man forlorn, Too plain I read thy heart, by fondness drawn To this sad scene, to sights that but inflame Its tender anguish-"
"Hear me, Heaven!" exclaim'd The frantic mourner, "could that anguish rise To madness and to mortal agony,
I yet would bless my fate; by one kind pang, From what I feel, the keener pangs of thought For ever freed. To me the Sun is lost: To me the future flight of days and years Is darkness, is despair-But who complains Forgets that he can die. O, sainted maid! For such in Heaven thou art, if from thy seat Of holy rest, beyond these changeful skies, If names on Earth most sacred once and dear, A lover and a friend, if yet these names Can wake thy pity, dart one guiding ray To light me where, in cave or creek, are thrown Thy lifeless limbs: that I-O grief supreme! O fate remorseless! was thy lover sav'd For such a task?-that I those dear remains, With maiden-rites adorn'd, at last may lodge Beneath the hallow'd vault; and, weeping there O'er thy cold urn, await the hour to close These eyes in peace, and mix this dust with thine!" "Such, and so dire," reply'd the cordial friend In Pity's look and language, “such, alas! Were late my thoughts. Whate'er the human heart Can most afflict, grief, agony, despair,
Through earth, air, sea, to all things that have life: Have all been mine, and with alternate war
From all that live on earth, in air and sea, The great community of Nature's sons, To thee, first Father, ceaseless praise ascend! And in the reverent hymn my grateful voice Be duly heard, among thy works not least, Nor lowest; with intelligence inform'd,
To know thee, and adore; with free-will crown'd, Where Virtue leads, to follow and be blest. O, whether by thy prime decree ordain'd
This bosom ravag'd. Hearken then, good youth; My story mark, and from another's fate, Pre-eminently wretched, learn thy own, Sad as it seems, to balance and to bear.
"In me, a man behold, whose morn serene, Whose noon of better life, with honour spent, In virtuous purpose, or in honest act, Drew fair distinction on my public name, From those among mankind, the nobler few,
Whose praise is fame; but there, in that true source Whence happiness with purest stream descends, In home found peace and love, supremely blest! Union of hearts, consent of wedded wills, By friendship knit, by mutual faith secur'd Our hopes and fears, our Earth and Heaven the At last, Amyntor, in my failing age, [same! Fallen from such height, and with the felon-herd, Robbers and outlaws, number'd-thought that still Stings deep the heart, and clothes the cheek with shame!
Then doom'd to feel what guilt alone should fear, The hand of public vengeance: arm'd by rage, Not justice; rais'd to injure, not redress; To rob, not guard; to ruin, not defend : And all, O sovereign Reason! all deriv'd From power that claims thy warrant to do wrong! A right divine to violate unblam'd
Each law, each rule, that, by himself observ'd, The God prescribes whose sanction kings pretend! "O Charles! O monarch! in long exile train'd, Whole hopeless years, th' oppressor's hand to know How hateful and how hard; thyself reliev'd, Now hear thy people, groaning under wrongs Of equal load, adjure thee by those days Of want and woe, of danger and despair, As Heaven has thine, to pity their distress! "Yet, from the plain good meaning of my heart, Be far th' unhallow'd licence of abuse; Be far th' bitterness of saintly zeal, That, impious hid behind the patriot's name, Masks hate and malice to the legal throne, In justice founded, circumscrib'd by laws, The prince to guard-but guard the people too: Chief, one prime good to guard inviolate, Soul of all worth, and sum of human bliss, Fair Freedom, birthright of all thinking kinds, Reason's great charter, from no king deriv'd, By none to be reclaim'd, man's right divine, Which God, who gave, indelible pronounc'd. "But if, disclaiming this his heaven-own'd right, This first best tenure by which monarchs rule; If, meant the blessing, he becomes the bane, The wolf, not shepherd, of his subject-flock, To grind and tear, not shelter and protect, Wide-wasting where he reigns-to such a prince, Allegiance kept were treason to mankind; And loyalty, revolt from virtue's law. For say, Amyntor, does just Heaven enjoin That we should homage Hell? or bend the knee To earthquake, or volcano, when they rage, Rend Earth's firm frame, and in one boundless grave Engulf their thousands? Yet, O grief to tell! Yet such, of late, o'er this devoted land, Was public rule. Our servile stripes and chains, Our sighs and groans resounding from the steep Of wintry hill, or waste untravell'd heath, Last refuge of our wretchedness, not guilt, Proclaim'd it loud to Heaven: the arm of power Extended fatal, but to crush the head It ought to screen, or with a parent's love Reclaim from errour, not with deadly hate, The tyrant's law, exterminate who err.
"In this wide ruin were my fortune sunk: Myself, as one contagious to his kind, Whom Nature, whom the social life renounc'd, Unsummon'd, unimpleaded, was to death, To shameful death adjudg'd; against my head The price of blood proclaim'd, and at my heels Let loose the murderous cry of human hounds.
And this blind fury of commission'd rage,
Of party-vengeance, to a fatal foe,
Known and abhorr'd for deeds of direst name, Was given in charge: a foe, whom blood-stain'd zeal, For what-O hear it not, all-righteous Heaven! Lest thy rous'd thunder burst-for what was deem'd Religion's cause, had savag'd to a brute, More deadly fell than hunger ever stung To prowl in wood or wild. His band he arm'd, Sons of perdition, miscreants with all guilt Familiar, and in each dire art of death Train'd ruthless up. As tigers on their prey, On my defenceless lands those fiercer beasts Devouring fell: nor that sequester'd shade, That sweet recess, where Love and Virtue long In happy league had dwelt, which war itself Beheld with reverence, could their fury scape; Despoil'd, defac'd, and wrapt in wasteful flames: For flame and rapine their consuming march, From hill to vale, by daily ruin mark'd. So, borne by winds along, in baneful cloud, Embody'd locusts from the wing descend On herb, fruit, flower, and kill the ripening year: While, waste behind, destruction on their track And ghastly famine wait. My wife and child He dragg'd, the ruffian dragg'd-O Heaven! do L A man, survive to tell it? At the hour Sacred to rest, amid the sighs and tears Of all who saw and curs'd his coward-rage, He forc'd, unpitying, from their midnight-bed, By menace, or by torture, from their fears My last retreat to learn; and still detains Beneath his roof accurst, that best of wives! Emelia, and our only pledge of love, My blooming Theodora !-Manhood there, And Nature bleed-Ah! let not busy thought Search thither, but avoid the fatal coast: Discovery, there, once more my peace of mind Might wreck; once more to desperation sink My hopes in Heaven." He said: but O, sad Muse! Can all thy moving energy, of power
To shake the heart, to freeze th' arrested blood, With words that weep, and strains that agonize; Can all this mournful magic of thy voice Tell what Amyntor feels? "O Heaven! art thou- What have I heard?-Aurelius! art thou he?- Confusion! horrour!-that most wrong'd of men! And, O most wretched too! alas! no more, No more a father-On that fatal flood, Thy Theodora-" At these words he fell. A deadly cold ran freezing through his veins: And Life was on the wing, her loath'd abode For ever to forsake. As on his way The traveller, from Heaven by lightning struck, Is fix'd at once immoveable; his eye With terrour glaring wild; his stiffening limbs In sudden marble bound: so stood, so look'd The heart-smote parent at this tale of death, Half-utter'd, yet too plain. No sign to rise, No tear had force to flow; his senses all, Through all their powers, suspended, and subdued To chill amazement. Silence for a space- Such dismal silence saddens earth and sky Ere first the thunder breaks-on either side Fill'd up this interval severe. At last, As from some vision that to frenzy fires The sleeper's brain, Amyntor, waking wild, A poniard, hid beneath his various robe,
Drew furious forth-" Me, me," he cry'd, " on me Let all thy wrongs be visited; and thus
My horrours end”—then madly would have plung'd | Of love and care, as ancient rites ordain,
The weapon's hostile point.-His lifted arm Aurelius, though with deep dismay and dread And anguish shook, yet his superior soul Collecting, and resuming all himself,
Seiz'd sudden: then perusing with strict eye, And beating heart, Amyntor's blooming form; Nor from his air or feature gathering aught To wake remembrance, thus at length bespoke. "O dire attempt! Whoe'er thou art, yet stay Thy hand self-violent; nor thus to guilt, If guilt is thine, accumulating add
A crime that Nature shrinks from, and to which Heaven has indulg'd no mercy. Sovereign Judge! Shall man first violate the law divine, That plac'd him here dependent on thy nod, Resign'd, unmurmuring, to await his hour Of fair dismission hence; shall man do this, Then dare thy presence, rush into thy sight, Red with the sin, and recent from the stain, Of unrepented blood? Call home thy sense; Know what thou art, and own his hand most just, Rewarding or afflicting-But say ou.
My soal, yet trembling at thy frantic deed, Recalls thy words, recalls their dire import: They urge me on; they bid me ask no more— What would I ask? My Theodora's fate, Ah me! is known too plain. Have I then sinn'd, Good Heaven! beyond all grace-But shall I blame His rage of grief, and in myself admit
Its wild excess? Heaven gave her to my wish; That gift Heaven has resum'd: righteous in both, For both his providence be ever blest!"
By shame repress'd, with rising wonder fill'd, Amyntor, slow recovering into thought, Submissive on his knee, the good man's hand Grasp'd close, and bore with ardour to his lips. His eye, where fear, confusion, reverence spoke, Through swelling tears, what language cannot tell, Now rose to meet, now shunn'd the hermit's glance, Shot awful at him: till, the various swell Of passion ebbing, thus he faultering spoke: "What hast thou done? why sav'd a wretch unknown?
Whom knowing ev'n thy goodness must abhor. M staken man! the honour of thy name, Thy love, truth, duty, all must be my foes. I am Aurelius! turn that look aside, That brow of terrour, while this wretch can say, Abhorrent say, he is-Forgive me, Heaven! Forgive me, Virtue! if I would renounce Whom Nature bids me reverence-by her bond, Rolando's son: by your more sacred ties, As to his crimes, an alien to his blood; For crimes like his-"
"Rolando's son? Just Heaven! Ha! here? and in my power? A war of thoughts, All terrible arising, shakes my frame
With doubtful conflict. By one stroke to reach The father's heart, though seas are spread between, Were great revenge!-Away: revenge? on whom? Alas! on my own soul; by rage betray'd Ev'n to the crime my reason most condemns In him who ruin'd me." Deep-mov'd he spoke ; And his own poniard o'er the prostrate youth Suspended held. But, as the welcome blow, With arms display'd, Amyntor seem'd to court, Behold, in sudden confluence gathering round The natives stood; whom kindness hither drew, The man unknown, with each relieving aid
To succour and to serve. Before them came Montano, venerable sage, whose head The hand of Time with twenty winters' snow Had shower'd; and to whose intellectual eye Futurity, behind her cloudy veil, Stands in fair light disclos'd. Him, after pause, Aurelius drew apart, and in his care Amyntor plac'd; to lodge him and secure ; To save him from himself, as one, with grief Tempestuous, and with rage, distemper'd deep. This done, nor waiting for reply, alone
He sought the vale, and his calm cottage gain'd.
WHERE Kilda's southern hills their summit lift With triple fork to Heaven, the mounted Sun Full, from the midmost, shot in dazzling stream His noon-tide ray. And now, in lowing train, Were seen slow-pacing westward o'er the vale The milky mothers, foot pursuing foot, And nodding as they move; their oozy meal, The bitter healthful berbage of the shore, Around its rocks to graze 4: for, strange to tell! The hour of ebb, though ever varying found, As yon pale planet wheels from day to day Her course inconstant, their sure instinct feels, Intelligent of times; by Heaven's own hand, To all its creatures equal in its care, Unerring mov'd. These signs observ'd, that guide To labour and repose a simple race, These native signs to due repast at noon, Frugal and plain, had warn'd the temperate isle: All but Aurelius. He, unhappy man, By Nature's voice solicited in vain, Nor hour observ'd, nor due repast partook. The child no more! the mother's fate untold! Both in black prospect rising to his eye- "Twas anguish there; 'twas here distracting doubt! Yet, after long and painful conflict borne, Where Nature, Reason, oft the doubtful scale Inclin'd alternate, summoning each aid That Virtue lends, and o'er each thought infirm Superior rising, in the might of him,
Who strength from weakness, as from darkness light, Onnipotent can draw; again resign'd, Again he sacrific'd, to Heaven's high will, Each soothing weakness of a parent's breast; The sigh soft memory prompts; the tender tear, That, streaming o'er an object lov'd and lost, With mournful tragic tortures and delights, Relieves us, while its sweet oppression loads, And, by admitting, blunts the sting of woe.
As Reason thus the mental storm seren'd, And through the darkness shot her sun-bright ray That strengthens while it cheers; behold from far Amyntor slow approaching! on his front,
4 The cows often feed on the alga marina: and they can distinguish exactly the tide of ebb from the tide of flood; though, at the same time, they are not within view of the shore. When the tide has ebbed about two hours, then they steer their course directly to the nearest shore, in their usual order, one after another. I had occasion to make this observation thirteen times in one week. Martin's Western Isles of Scotland, p. 156.
O'er each sunk feature sorrow had diffus'd
Attraction, sweetly sad. His noble port, Majestic in distress, Aurelius mark'd; And, unresisting, felt his bosom flow With social softness. Straight, before the door Of his moss-silver'd cell they sat them down In counterview: and thus the youth began.
"With patient ear, with calm attention, mark Amyntor's story: then, as Justice sees, On either hand, her equal balance weigh, Absolve him, or condemn-But oh, may I, A father's name, when truth forbids to praise, Unblam'd pronounce? that name to every son By Heaven made sacred; and by Nature's hand, With Honour, Duty, Love, her triple pale, Fenc'd strongly round, to bar the rude approach Of each irreverent thought.-These eyes, alas! The curs'd effects of sanguinary zeal
Too near beheld: its madness how extreme; How blind its fury, by the prompting priest, Each tyrant's ready instrument of ill, Train'd on to holy mischief. Scene abhorr'd! Fell Cruelty let loose in Mercy's name: Intolerance, while o'er the free-born mind Her heaviest chains were cast, her iron scourge Severest hung, yet daring to appeal
That Power whose law is meekness; and, for deeds That outrage Heaven, belying Heaven's command. "Flexile of will, misjudging, though sincere, Rolando caught the spread infection, plung'd Implicit into guilt, and headlong urg'd His course unjust to violence and rage. Unmanly rage! when nor the charm divine Of beauty, nor the matron's sacred age, Secure from wrongs, could innocence secure, Found reverence or distinction. Yet, sustain'd By conscious worth within, the matchless pair Their threatening fate, imprisonment and scorn And death denounc'd, unshrinking, unsubdued To murmur or complaint, superior bore, With patient hope, with fortitude resign'd, Nor built on pride, nor counting vain applause; But calmly constant, without effort great, What reason dictates, and what Heaven approves. "But how proceed, Aurelius? in what sounds Of gracious cadence, of assuasive power, My further story clothe? O could I steal From Harmony her softest-warbled strain Of melting air! or Zephyre's vernal voice! Or Philomela's song, when love dissolves To liquid blandishment his evening lay, All nature smiling round! then might I speak; Then might Amyntor, unoffending, tell, How unperceiv'd and secret through his breast, As morning rises o'er the midnight-shade, What first was ow'd humanity to both, Assisting piety and tender thought, Grew swift and silent into love for one: My sole offence-if love can then offend, When virtue lights and reverence guards its flame. "O Theodora ! who thy world of charms, That soul of sweetness, that soft glow of youth, Warm on thy cheek, and beaming from thine eye, Unmov'd could see? that dignity of ease, That grace of air, by happy nature thine! For all in thee was native; .from within Spontaneous flowing, as some equal stream From its unfailing source! and then too seen In milder lights; by sorrow's shading hand Touch'd into power more exquisitely soft,
By tears adorn'd, intender'd by distress. O sweetness without name! when Love looks on With Pity's melting eye, that to the soul Endears, ennobles her, whom Fate afflicts, Or Fortune leaves unhappy! Passion then Refines to virtue: then a purer train Of heaven-inspir'd emotions, undebas'd By self-regard, or thought of due return, The breast expanding, all its powers exalt To emulate what reason best conceives Of love celestial; whose prevenient aid Forbids approaching ill; or gracious draws, When the lone heart with anguish inly bleeds, From pain its sting, its bitterness from woe!
"By this plain courtship of the honest heart To pity mov'd, at length my pleaded vows The gentle maid with unreluctant ear Would oft admit; would oft endearing crown With smiles of kind assent, with looks that spoke, In blushing softness, her chaste bosom touch'd To mutual love. O fortune's fairest hour! O seen, but not enjoy'd, just hail'd and lost It's flattering brightness! Theodora's form, Event unfear'd! had caught Rolando's eye: And Love, if wild Desire, of Fancy born, By furious passions nurs'd, that sacred name Profanes not, Love his stubborn breast dissolv'd To transient goodness. But my thought shrinks back, Reluctant to proceed: and filial awe, With pious hand, would o'er a parent's crime The veil of silence and oblivious night Permitted throw. His impious suit repell'd, Aw'd from her eye, and from her lip severe Dash'd with indignant scorn; each harbour'd thought Of soft emotion or of social sense,
Love, pity, kindness, alien to a soul That Bigot-rage embosoms, fled at once: And all the savage reassum'd his breast.
''Tis just,' he cry'd: who thus invites disdain, Deserves repulse; he who, by slave-like arts, Would meanly steal what force may nobler take, And, greatly daring, dignify the deed. When next we meet, our mutual blush to spare, Thine from dissembling, from base flattery mine, Shall be my care.' This threat, by brutal scorn Keen'd and embitter'd, terrible to both,
To one prov'd fatal. Silent-wasting grief, The mortal worm that on Emilia's frame Had prey'd unseen, now deep through all her powers Its poison spread, and kill'd their vital growth. Sickening, she sunk beneath this double weight Of shame and horrour.-Dare I yet proceed? Aurelius, O most injur'd of mankind! Shall yet my tale, exasperating, add To woe, new anguish and to grief, despair- She is no more-"
"O Providence severe !" Aurelius smote his breast, and groaning cry'd; But curb'd a second groan, repell'd the voice Of froward grief: and to the will supreme, In justice awful, lowly bending his, Nor sigh, nor murmur, nor repining plaint, By all the war of nature though assail'd, Escap'd his lips. "What! shall we, from Heaven's With life receiving happiness, our share [grace Of ill refuse? And are afflictions aught But mercies in disguise? th' alternate cup, Medicinal though bitter, and prepar'd By Love's own hand for salutary ends. But were they ills indeed; can fond complaint
Arrest the wing of Time? Can grief command This noon-day Sun to roll his flaming orb Back to yon eastern coast, and bring again The hours of yesterday? or from the womb Of that unsounded deep the bary'd corse To light and life restore? Blest pair, farewell! Yet, yet a few short days of erring grief, Of human fondness sighing in the breast, And sorrow is no more. Now, gentle youth, And let me call thee son, (for O that name Thy faith, thy friendship, thy true portion borne Of pains for me, too sadly have deserv'd) On with thy tale. 'Tis mine, when Heaven afflicts, To hearken and adore." The patient man Thus spoke: Amyntor thus his story clos'd.
"As, dumb with anguish, round the bed of death Weeping we knelt, to mine she faintly rais'd Her closing eyes; then fixing, in cold gaze, On Theodora's face- O save my child!' She said; and, shrinking from her pillow, slept Without a groan, a pang. In hallow'd earth I saw her shrouded; bade eternal peace Her shade receive, and, with the truest tears Affection ever wept, her dust bedew'd.
"What then remain'd for honour or for love? What, but that scene of violence to fly, With guilt profan'd, and terrible with death, Rolando's fatal roof. Late at the hour, When shade and silence o'er this nether orb With drowsiest influence reign, the waining Moon Ascending mournful in the midnight sphere; On that drear spot, within whose cavern'd womb Emilia sleeps, and by the turf that veils Her honour'd clay, alone and kneeling there I found my Theodora! Thrill'd with awe, With sacred terrour, which the time, the place, Pour'd on us, sadly-solemn, I too bent My trembling knee, and lock'd in her's my hand Across her parent's grave. By this dread scene! By night's pale regent! By yon glorious tram Of ever-moving fires that round her burn! By Death's dark empire! by the sheeted dust That once was man, now mouldering here below! But chief by her's, at whose nocturnal tomb, Reverent we kneel! and by her nobler part, Th' unbody'd spirit, hovering near, perhaps, As witness to our vows! nor time, nor chance, Nor aught but Death's inevitable hand, Shalf e'er divide our loves.'—I led her thence: To where, safe-station'd in a secret bay, Rough of descent, and brown with pendent pines That murmur'd to the gale, our bark was moor'd. We sail'd-But, O my father; can I speak What yet remains? yon ocean black with storm! Its useless sails rent from the groaning pine! The speechless crew aghast! and that lost fair! Still, still I see her! feel her heart pant thick ! And hear her voice, in ardent vows to Heaven For me alone preferr'd; as on my arm, Expiring, sinking with her fears she hung! I kiss'd her pale cold cheek! with tears adjur'd, And won at last, with sums of proffer'd gold, The boldest mariners, this precious charge Instant to save; and, in the skiff secur'd, Their cars across the foamy flood to ply With unremitting arm. I then prepar'd To follow her-That moment, from the deck, A sea swell'd o'er, and plung'd me in the gulf. Nor me alone: its broad and billowing sweep Must have involv'd her too. Mysterious Heaven!
My fatal love on her devoted head Drew down-it must be so! the judgment due To me and mine: or was Amyntor sav'd For its whole quiver of remaining wrath? For storms more fierce? for pains of sharper sting? And years of death to come?"-Nor further voice, Nor flowing tear his high-wrought grief supply'd: With arms outspread, with eyes in hopeless gaze To Heaven uplifted, motionless and mute He stood, the mournful semblance of Despair.
The lamp of day, though from mid-noon declin'd, Still flaming with full ardour, shot on Earth Oppressive brightness round; till in soft steam From Ocean's bosom his light vapour's drawn, With grateful intervention o'er the sky Their veil diffusive spread; the scene abroad Soft-shadowing, vale and plain, and dazzling hill. Aurelius, with his gnest, the western cliff Ascending slow, beneath its marble roof, From whence in double stream a lucid source Roll'd sounding forth, and, where with dewy wing Fresh breezes play'd, sought refuge and repose, Till cooler hours arise. The subject isle Her village-capital, where health and peace Are tutelary gods; her small domain Of arable and pasture, vein'd with streams That branching bear refreshful moisture on To field and mead; her straw-roof'd temple rude, Where Piety, not Pride, adoring kneels, Lay full in view. From scene to scene around Aurelius gaz'd; and, sighing, thus began.
"Not we alone; alas! in every clime, The human race are sons of sorrow born. Heirs of transmitted labour and disease, Of pain and grief, from sire to son deriv'd, All have their mournful portion; all must bear Th' impos'd condition of their mortal state, Vicissitude of suffering. Cast thine eye Where yonder vale, Amyntor, sloping spreads Full to the noon-tide beam its primrose-lap, From hence due east." Amyntor look'd, and saw, Not without wonder at a sight so strange, Where thrice three females, earnest each and arm'd With rural instruments, the soil prepar'd For future harvest. These the trenchant spade, To turn the mould and break th' adhesive clods, Employ'd assiduous. Those, with equal pace, And arm alternate, strew'd its fresh lap white With fruitful Ceres: while, in train behind, Three more th' encumbent harrow heavy on O'er-labour'd drew, and clos'd the toilsome task. "Behold!" Aurelius thus his speech renew'd, "From that soft sex, too delicately fram'd For toils like these, the task of rougher man, What yet necessity demands severe. Twelve suns have purpled these encircling hills With orient beams, as many nights along Their dewy summits drawn th' alternate veil Of darkness, since, in unpropitious hour, The husbands of those widow'd mates, who now For both must labour, lanch'd, in quest of food, Their island-skiff adventurous on the deep. Them, while the sweeping net secure they plung'd The finny race to snare, whose foodful shoals Each creek and bay innumerable crowd, As annual on from shore to shore they move In watry caravan; them, thus intent, Dark from the south a gust of furious wing, Up-springing, drove to sea, and left in tears This little world of brothers and of friends!
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