• erkiiiyN 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OP 
 CALIFORNIA 
 
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 ^ . ^ J^ xxXis^ X10^ 
 
THE FAIR ISLAND; 
 
 a loem, 
 
 IN SIX CANTOS. 
 
 EDMUND PEEL, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " THE RETURN," " JUDGE NOT," 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 FRANCIS & JOHN RIVINGTON, 
 gT. Paul's church yard, and waterlog pj-ace. 
 
 185L 
 
LOAN STACK 
 
 LONDON ; 
 
 GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, PRINTERS, 
 
 ST. JOHN'S SQUARE. 
 
VKsui 
 
 JAMES AND ROSA WHITE, 
 
 OF BONCHURCH, 
 
 WHO " FIND 
 
 SERMONS IN STONES, AND GOOD IN EVERY THING," 
 
 LOVE AND MEMORY 
 
 WOULD UTTER 
 
 " THOUGHTS THAT VOLUNTARY MOVE 
 
 HARMONIOUS NUMBERS." 
 
 A 2 
 
Digitized by tine Internet Archive 
 
 in 2007 with funding from 
 
 IVIicrosoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/fairislandpoeminOOpeelrich 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 Position and aspect of our Island. — Daybreak on Bembridge 
 Down. — Culver Cliff. — Cormorant. — Sandown Bay. — Dunnose — 
 hills in the centre.— Coloured Cove in White Cliff Bay.— Seafowl 
 on the sands. — Negro, of Legh Richmond, alone in a lofty temple. 
 — Bembridge and St. Helen's, at high water. — Spires and forest 
 trees. — Pastoral hills in the west. — Brading churchyard — Little 
 Jane. — Yaverland. — Norman Arches. — The woods ofWoolverton. 
 — Ruins. — Legend of the Culver. — Holy Well and Stone Cross. — 
 Palmer murdered. — Goblin Cave. — Cliff thrown down. — French 
 discovered at anchor.— Surprise and destruction ofWoolverton — 
 desperate resistance.— Sir John De Langford, of Carisbrooke, Sir 
 Theobald De Russell, of Yaverland, and other knights, with their 
 retainers, engage and defeat the French on the plain of Yarbridge 
 — Sir Theobald De Russell slain 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CANTO II. 
 
 Brading Down and Plain. — St. Helen's Roads. — Nunwell and 
 the country eastward. — Priory woods.— Appley. — Solent Sea. — 
 Royal George. — The Dover. — Shipping off Spithead. — Ryde, as it 
 was and as it is.— Binstead. — Quarr Abbey. — Isabel de Fortibus. 
 — Fishbourne Creek. — ^Wootton River. — Oaks on the border. — 
 Glebe and Rectory. — Bridge and Water-mill. — Imbowered Village. 
 — Fernhill. — Ashey Down and Pillar. — Vale of the Yar. — New- 
 church. — Village Pastor. — Alverstone Mill and Yarbridge. — 
 Angling. — Nightingales among the willows and alders. — Country 
 north of Ashey Down. — Evening on the river Wootton .... 37 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 Morning on the waters. — King's Quay. — John escaped from 
 Runimede. — Norris Castle and Osborne. — Victoria — Princess and 
 Queen — Blessings of her reign. — England and the Continent con- 
 trasted. — Medina river and Cowes roads. — Either Cowes from the 
 water. — Carausius. — Saxon Invasion. — East Cowes Castle. — 
 Southampton Water. — Calshot and Eaglehurst. — Southampton. — 
 Henry V. — Edward III. and the Black Prince. — Canute. — Netley 
 Abbey. — Charles V. — Beaulieu.— New Forest — deer and forest 
 ponies. — Gurnet Bay. — Yarmouth. — Norton. — Alum Bay. — 
 Needle Rocks and seabirds. — Cave in Scratchell's Bay. — Memor- 
 able voyage. — Man gathering samphire. — View from near the 
 Lighthouse. — Coloured Cliffs reflected in Alum Bay. — Freshwater, 
 in storm and in calm. — Address to the Creator 59 
 
THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 CANTO I. 
 
CANTO I. 
 
 Feom Albion sever' d, to the noonday sun, 
 Looms on the mariner a beacon-land, 
 About whose base the great sea- waters run, 
 OHmb the tall rock, and flood the level sand, 
 Lash'd by the storm, or by the zephyr fann'd ; 
 Now, tumbled headlong with a deafening roar 
 And foamy rage against the stubborn strand ; 
 Now, reef and weed and pebble gliding o'er 
 With gentle murmur, stream of music evermore ! 
 B 2 
 
THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 II. 
 It dawneth ! — Out of folded darkness rearing 
 A blood-red banner, quell the billowy deep, 
 Darter of fire, and like a god appearing 
 Above the waters, scatter dewy sleep. 
 Tinging the mountain-top, and orient steep 
 Unsullied — smooth — sublime — to pierce ere long 
 The woods and valleys. Let the ripple leap 
 In light ! for hark ! the tremulous leaves among 
 Sing, as the dewdrops flash, the birds their matin song. 
 
 III. 
 
 Headland, appointed in the morning beam 
 A rosy wreath — a golden crown — to wear ; 
 To glow amid the zenith, and to gleam 
 In the wan moonlight — guard yon haven fair, 
 Eix'd as a star benign in upper air. 
 I feel it good to commune here alone 
 With Him who piled the mountains, clothed the bare 
 With beauty, made the soul of nature known, 
 And gave the tongue of thought a reverential tone. 
 
CANTO I. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Queller of ocean's overweening might, 
 Aerial promontory, power serene — 
 And thou, lone watcher on the beetling height. 
 Whose raven plumes against the sun are seen 
 To glance and flash the glittering Alps between — 
 Enjoy your wide dominion, long as sea 
 And sky shall clang around you ; or the green 
 Enflower'd upland hither draw the bee. 
 And many a moth blue-wing' d, and chirper bounding free. 
 
 V. 
 
 To Carmel heaved over a gulf profound. 
 Tracking the locust, nimble thought will fly. 
 And muse on him who brooded on the ground, > 
 Sad to have shut the floodgates of the sky, 
 And wrung the dewy brow of Hermon dry. 
 Alas ! for Israel wasted by sharp woes ! 
 Eor Canaan pined with a long agony ! 
 EHjah is not here ! yet — bounty flows 
 As when a little cloud out of the deep arose ! 
 
THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 YI. 
 
 Tour various wonders, earth, and sea, and sky, 
 "What tongue can tell of, or what touch portray ? 
 O for a calmer heart, a clearer eye, 
 T' enjoy your beauty ! — Here, the Culver Bay 
 Bathes in a bluer heaven the mountain gray ; 
 There, ruddier shows than Belus' wave imbued 
 With young Adonis' blood. That open way 
 Of thymy fragrance yields the climber food : 
 Can honied Hybla shed a sweeter solitude ? 
 
 Bright as a voyager sublime in air 
 Over the Tropic-flood, yon sail would fain 
 Double the Bluff beyond it grim and bare. 
 Dun-heaving out of the refulgent main. 
 A stream of sparkles o'er the purple plain 
 E/ipples : the smooth hills rounding east and west 
 Shine in the centre, links of one fair chain ! 
 Wake, dreamy woodland ! voices of the blest. 
 With morning-incense, rise above the place of rest ! 
 
CANTO I. 7 
 
 VIII. 
 Where to the north the snowy steeps descend, 
 An inner bay, with finely-marbled floor, 
 In which the colours of the rainbow blend, 
 Opens on such as winding down explore 
 Cavern and cliff and solitary shore, 
 Here white and glistening, tliere of iron hue, 
 To trickle, when the torrents cease to roar 
 Thro' rifts of red, of yellow, and of blue, 
 In drops of crystal light or many-colour' d dew. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Save where the sea fowl, as in sportive mood 
 The sands imprinting, one another chase, 
 No cry, no step disturbs the solitude : 
 There, by the billows luU'd, their rolling base 
 With meditation keeping pensive pace, 
 An Ethiop held communion with the sky, 
 As he whom Philip found in desert place, 
 Bent on that book with reverential eye 
 Which bringeth life to light and immortality *. 
 
 } " On one of these rocks I observed a man sitting with a book, which he was 
 reading. The place was near two hundred yards perpendicularly below me ; but 
 I discovered by his dress, and by the colour of his features, contrasted with the 
 
8 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 X. 
 
 In lofty temple all alone he seem'd 
 With Him who searches out our secret ways : 
 Of other presence he had never dream' d, 
 Remote from human haunt and common gaze. 
 The Christian convert panted not for praise, 
 But smote his breast, and mourn' d his heart of stone ; 
 Eedeeming love to ponder with amaze, 
 Till many a tear and penitential groan 
 Before the Mercy-seat his misery make known. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Not many, by the world accounted great 
 Or wise or noble, demigods on earth. 
 In war, in song, in science, or in state, 
 The fall acknowledge, or deplore the dearth 
 Of native dignity and moral worth : 
 With Saul, they persecute the chosen seed, 
 With Nicodemus, doubt the second birth : 
 Benighted Negro ! happier in thy need, 
 Than he who felt no want, recounting each good deed ! 
 
 white rocks beside him, that it was no other than my Negro disciple with a Bible 
 in his hand." See Rev. Legh Richmond's *' Negro Servant," in his " Annals of 
 the Poor," 
 
CANTO I. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Beyond where bow'd the sable knee in prayer, 
 Eehind the cape of oriental sheen, 
 'Mid arbours musical as warbling air 
 When young-eyed daisies star the dewy green, 
 An opening haven wavy lawns between 
 Bosoms the west, expanding by degrees : 
 On either brow a village crowns the scene 
 With spires that overtop the forest trees : 
 Downs spread — for climbing sheep to pasture where they 
 please. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 We stood in Bembridge, on a ridge of stone 
 Between two waters : on the narrow ledge, 
 Dabbled with briny weed, the noonday shone, 
 Glow'd on the lake, and smote the gleamy sedge, 
 And flash' d in bubbles on the sea's white edge. 
 The breezes lay in slumber on the shore. 
 Or, moulting, waited for a breath to fledge 
 Wings soft as down, strong-pinion' d, voyaging o'er 
 Earth, sea, and sky, to serve the Mover evermore. 
 
10 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XIY. 
 
 But now the winds and waters are at rest : 
 The sea-boy, coated like the shaggy bear, 
 Hugging a naked pole with rugged breast, 
 And climbing high, pants for a breath of air ; 
 The dark-eyed girl, tossing her raven hair 
 Back from a brow clear as the summer skies, 
 Feels on the lifted lids a fiery glare. 
 And holds a rounded arm before her eyes. 
 Dazzled, as one who sees the golden future rise. 
 
 XT. 
 
 Come, if the Babel of the world have ceased 
 To move thee, come and find a new delight 
 In the boon heart of nature, in the least 
 As in the greatest, from the solar height 
 Down to the dewy gem, and flower star-bright. 
 Mark the blue waters of the swelling sea 
 Shower' d on the bar in flakes of snowy white ; 
 The limpid haven trace, smooth as may be 
 A bay of heavenly calm, or river flovring free. 
 
CANTO I. 11 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Gj-lide, liquid light, melodious undersong, 
 Down with, the tide below the harbour-buoy, 
 In many a coil and dimple roll'd along! 
 With the round pebble let the ripple toy, 
 "While, deep and calm, as in a dream of joy. 
 Sleeps with Alcyone the blue-hair' d power ! 
 I would that evil might no more annoy, 
 [Ruffling the plumage of the winged hour. 
 The pleasaunce of our path, the quiet of our bower ! 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Over the Tar, meandering, blue and clear 
 The sky bends lovingly ; the bladed grass 
 Twinkles ; and where the laughing woods appear, 
 Their elf-locks smoothing in a sea of glass, 
 A golden splendour bathes the leafy mass. 
 In each green glade, on either pastoral hill 
 Deep-imaged in the pool, or o'er the pass 
 "White-gleaming, sleeps the sunshine where it wiU, 
 E'en on the tomb so pale and stony lying still. 
 
12 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XYIII. 
 Pierce are tlij beams, down shooting orb of day 
 On earth ; but sacred is the dust below, 
 Tranced till the time of trial pass away ! 
 Still in our embers will affection glow, 
 Penitence plead, and mercy overflow ; 
 And patience triumph over mortal pain 
 "With thee, my brother ! knowledge yearn to know 
 More ; and, abiding faith with " little Jane V' 
 Hope in the Word of Power to raise her up again ! 
 
 XIX. 
 
 " The world knows nothing of its greatest men ^ !" — 
 
 Virtue may go down to the grave unknown. 
 
 Untimely gather' d in her native glen ; 
 
 Or, where the children of affliction groan, 
 
 [Forgetting in another's grief her own, — 
 
 A watcher o'er the dying till she die ; 
 
 Or, in the midst of wrong, dwelling alone 
 
 Unblench'd and unappall'd, embosom' d high 
 Above the billowy world in the cerulean sky. 
 
 » Little Jane— "The Young Cottager" of Legh Richmond— sleeps in Brading 
 churchyard. 
 2 Taylor's " Philip Von Artevelde." 
 
CANTO I. 13 
 
 XX. 
 
 Behind the steeps of moi^iiing, ocean-braced, 
 The Culver's airy dwelling, we are told, 
 A village lies embower' d, in which is traced 
 The march of time through Norman arches old, 
 That look religion, bending to uphold 
 The Church ; as those inwoven elms withstand 
 The sea-blast with the rolling billows roll'd, 
 In azure caves by sylvan arches spann'd, 
 Now laid, or on thy bay, blue-girdled Yaverland ! 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Long may that hamlet feel the liquid gush 
 Of natural music ! — glen and grove resound 
 With merle melodious and tuneful thrush ; 
 And many a mellow note of summer-sound, 
 When with new life the cawing elms rebound ! 
 For you, that hail the jocund heart of Spring, 
 May early violets imbue the ground, 
 And flaunting dafibdils, in faery ring, 
 Around the fringed pool a golden glory fling ! 
 
14 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 Not in Aonia, by the humid edge 
 Of clear Cephisus, brighter hues are seen ; 
 JSTor by the lake Copais, wreath' d with sedge ; 
 Nor where the Muses o'er a fountain lean 
 In Helicon — the fabled Hippocrene ! 
 'No gaudier flower thy dewy marge supplies, 
 Castalian spring, nor Thespia's fluid sheen. 
 In which Narcissus view'd, with fond surprise, 
 The varying cheek of love, and beauty's conscious eyes. 
 
 Where, lower down, the border of a wood, 
 Drips with salt ooze and spangs of ocean spray, 
 In olden time, a walled city stood, 
 O'er which the Eussell held superior sway, — 
 A name renowned in the latter day. 
 All outward traces of a town are gone. 
 Save what the worshippers of Eld, in bay 
 And brake and long grass diving, light upon, — 
 The fossil bones, unblest, of buried Woolverton. 
 
CANTO I. 15 
 
 They tell you how, when Bembridge was unknown, 
 And older Brading but an infant town, 
 Against the sunrise walls and gates of stone 
 Elash'd, and Eeligion wore a triple crown. 
 Till Mammon paved the way to vile renown : 
 Then in a moment E^etribution came. 
 As when the cities of the plain sank down. 
 Beneath a flood of lava and of flame, 
 Into the pool obscene of everlasting shame. 
 
 XXT. 
 
 The tempter came in guise of an old man 
 Of grave demeanour, weather-worn and spare. 
 And swart as those who lead a caravan 
 On thro' a fiery land of drought and glare, 
 A weary caravan of pain and care. 
 It was the summer, when at eventide 
 A merchant, opening out his treasures rare, 
 The various wants of rich and poor supplied. 
 And having served them, pass'd, nor longer woidd abide. 
 
16 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Out by the seaward gate they saw him pass : 
 One met him, later, gliding darkly by, 
 As glides a shadow o'er the downy grass, 
 Till, having reach' d the ghastly chalk on high, 
 He seem'd to melt into the dewy sky. 
 The hermit of the Culver (for he bore 
 That name in Woolverton) again drew nigh ; 
 And, having soon disposed of all his store, 
 Stole thro' a sallyport, and vanish' d as before. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 strange — was it not ? and stranger still appear' d 
 To trust who could not, or who would not pay : 
 It boded them no good, the wealthy fear'd ; 
 What right had any one to throw away 
 On a base churl so knightly an array ? 
 The merchant only whisper' d in the ear 
 And touch' d the forehead, wherefore who could say, 
 Of each poor debtor : Cunning 'gan to leer, 
 And gloat upon the cheek of varying hope and fear. 
 
CANTO I. 17 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Anon came rumour flying tlu^o' the town 
 Of a rich burgher over night waylaid, 
 And robb'd, and murder' d ; of a bam bum'd down, 
 A dwelling plunder' d, and a trust betray' d 
 With ruffian outrage on a plighted maid ; 
 But how, or where, or when, was little known. 
 Deep in the murder' d man a Spanish blade 
 Was found, stuck fast betwixt the jointed bone : 
 But none its owner knew, or, knowing him, would own. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 A yeoman fancied he had seen the knife 
 For sale, one evening, in the stranger's store : 
 They ask'd him would he swear away the life 
 Of a fair trader from a foreign shore ? 
 He made them no reply, but mused the more ! 
 The hermit of the Culver came at last, 
 And, having heard the dreadful tidings, tore 
 His beard, and dust upon his raiment cast. 
 And dumb with horror stood, and stared as one aghast. 
 
 c 
 
18 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Time fled, and ever left the merchant free 
 To trust a people unprepared to pay : 
 They thought a patron of the poor must be 
 An angel in disguise, and oft would pray 
 Of him to tarry till the break of day : 
 But. ever, as of old, with low salaam. 
 And right hand on the heart, he went his way, 
 Ere to the Virgin floated on the calm 
 That hymn which rises up when heaven is dropping balm. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Down in a hollow, by the Druid-wood, 
 A fountain pure out of a cave of stone 
 Well'd : a stone cross above the fountain stood, 
 E/Ough-hewn, on which a writing, overgrown 
 With moss and lichen, made the future known. 
 " "While renneth clere the water of the well, 
 The lord of Taverlande shal kepe his OT\Tie ; 
 But if blood stain it, firy wrath and fel 
 Shal brenne the feloun brood ; and Culver ring hir knell." 
 
CANTO I. 19 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 One evening from the wood the traveller came 
 In trouble and alarm : he had been told 
 Of one in a grey cowl, of evil fame, 
 In knowledge mighty as in malice old, 
 Ooil'd in black arts and treasons manifold : 
 The same was coming under filmy wing 
 Of twilight, whether to purloin their gold, 
 Or poison in its source the blessed spring, 
 He knew not — who could plumb the deep imagining ? 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 A murmur, ominous of evil, rose — 
 The people hurried forth, and while they plann'd 
 Eevenge, the shades of night began to close 
 Around the Holy "Well ; a gloomy band 
 Watching the road that led to Yaverland. 
 At length one came, grey-hooded, gown'd in grey, 
 A palm-branch holding in the better hand. 
 And in the left a staff, and making way 
 Up to the cross of stone, kneel' d, as about to pray; 
 c 2 
 
20 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XXXIY. 
 
 And bowing down that venerable head, 
 Which on the Tomb of tombs had bended low, 
 He shook the water ! then an arrow sped 
 Thro' his left temple, barb'd with mortal throe ; 
 And blood into the well began to flow : 
 Then gory Murder plash' d the stonj stair. 
 And dabbled all the cave with crimson woe : 
 The dire contriver thro' the murky air 
 ried ; but he could not fly the shadow of despair. 
 
 The rabble slunk away, save three or four 
 Who stoop' d to raise the body, when a friar 
 Beholding blood upon the moonlit floor, 
 Enter' d, and gazing on the sainted sire, 
 Sank down in awe, and then rose up in ire, 
 And, like a madman, on the sons of Cain 
 CaU'd down the vengeance of eternal fire ; 
 Por they the patron of the Well had slain. 
 The palmer who had borne the cross of woe and pain. 
 
CANTO I. 21 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Lone on a promontory, whose bald height 
 Outjutting over the black waters shone, 
 The Eussell lingered in the pale moonlight. 
 If peradventure he might find alone, 
 And track to secret lair, the grim unknown. 
 At length, o'ershadowing the northern slope, 
 He saw a shape across the moonshine thrown : 
 It near'd, and near'd, and o'er the gleamy cope 
 Hung — ^the pale watcher held his breath 'twixt fear and 
 hope. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 The mountain, rounded o'er the white sea-wall, 
 Sheer, in the silence, fell from sky to sea : 
 The knight below him felt the pebble fall 
 Down — down — and hover' d, not from terror free. 
 On the dim border of the dread "to be." 
 To him more terrible than trampling host 
 The crumbling chalk ! more terrible to see 
 The shadowy stranger gliding like a ghost 
 On the fine edge sublime of that precipitous coast ! 
 
22 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XXXYIII. 
 
 Eut, on a sudden, from the treacherous edge 
 Turning, to baulk the ruin deep and wide, 
 That apparition under a green ledge 
 Dived, through an opening in the mountain-side> 
 To noble Theobald a welcome guide ; 
 "Who now, the danger of the nether deep 
 Avoiding, enter' d with a quiet glide 
 The cavern, winding inward from the steep. 
 Determined till the dawn a jealous watch to keep. 
 
 Yain thought ! enchantment drowsed the dragon ejes, 
 And held the warrior in a radiant hall 
 Bedropt with emerald and ruby dyes 
 And amethystine, waved from wall to wall, 
 A sea of sapphire deepening over all. 
 High in a niche of lunar light, alone 
 He sat, unconscious of the dewy fall, 
 Like to a pagan idol on a throne, 
 A statue pale as death, and silent as a stone. 
 
CANTO I. 23 
 
 XL. 
 
 Then came a murmur, like a dungeon' d wave 
 Far down, or sea- wind in the "hollow blue : 
 The captive lady of the vocal cave 
 Bound her a coil of lamentation threw, 
 Again ! and yet again ! and ever new. 
 As, in a storm, above the rack of fear 
 Eides Hope, sublime and beautiftd to view, 
 The thunder tuning to the troubled ear, 
 So, in the darkest dream will starry shapes appear : 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Erom out of chaos an Aonian air 
 Will come upon us, like a balmy wind 
 Upon the rear of winter, charming care ; 
 And, all unmindful of the vrrack behind. 
 Unfolding Eden to the vernal mind. 
 The dreamer, late by shadows overcast 
 Of the unimaginable undefined, 
 With eyes wide-open staring as aghast, 
 Smiled, as the vision changed, and music floated past. 
 
24 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 Bland airs, and specious beauty, ear and eye 
 Led captive, such as o'er the Tyrrhene wave 
 Drew, long a stranger to his native sky 
 And home, and all the wandering heart will crave, 
 The king of Ithaca, the wise and brave. 
 Eoused by the potent sorcery of sound. 
 Unwonted motion stirr'd the goblin-cave ; 
 Sly feet stole, catlike, o'er the magic ground. 
 And worms voluminous roll'd, and coil'd them round and 
 round. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Then bray'd the dragon-brood, and lute and lyre 
 Pled, and a clangour thro' the cavern rang. 
 As when to Moloch thro' the thirsty fire 
 Men haled their children, while a brazen clang 
 Flouted the bitter cry and mortal pang. 
 Then, in the middle of the charmed floor. 
 One round and round an incantation sang, 
 And lo, a table, whose illusive store 
 Shone like the fabled fruit upon the Dead Sea shore 1 
 
CANTO I. 25 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 The guests had each been branded on the brow ; 
 Their eyes, all stony, look'd a dumb despair ; 
 And yet in Woolverton had been, ere now, 
 Like forms and faces. Over them in air 
 A vulture hung, and with a greedy glare 
 Look'd dawn, while hunger gnaw'd the dungeon wall : 
 Then horror seized the sleeper by the hair ! 
 He leap'd up wildly, and began to call 
 IJpon the Name unnamed in the Tartarean hall. 
 
 XLY. 
 
 Vanish the dreams and phantoms of the night ! 
 Eierce on their rearward glared a fiery flash ! 
 The bolted thunder o'er the cloven height 
 E/oU'd, and the rocking headland, crash on crash, 
 Fell with a sullen plunge and misty splash ! 
 Struck down and wounded by a stony wedge, 
 The Eussell, mindless of the crimson gash, 
 Lay, in the dawning, on a narrow ledge 
 That overhung the deep : life trembled on the edge ! 
 
26 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XLYI. 
 
 When tlie white fog-wave surging up the steep, 
 'Gran, in the glow of morn, to melt away. 
 And light to fiU each dimple of the deep. 
 The knight look'd out beyond the northern bay, 
 Andj lo ! a royal fleet at anchor lay ! 
 Arm'd boats are gliding by the Foreland shore, 
 Full-mann'd, refulgent in the golden ray. 
 With orient helm and amber-dropping oar. 
 And beamy spear star-bright, irradiate more and more. 
 
 XLYII. 
 
 Chafed by the flaunting of the banner' d foe. 
 The lord of Taverland from sea to sky 
 Look'd up, and, mindful of the gulph below, 
 FoUow'd an elfin track, with desperate eye, 
 That inward from the danger wound on high ; 
 And laying hold on that Almighty Hand 
 Which leads the rock-goat, scared by savage cry, 
 O'er the white ridges of the biUowy land, 
 He drew him up, and stood — where scarce the seamews 
 stand. 
 
CANTO I. 27 
 
 Then, turning from the deep, with dagger keen, 
 He scoop' d out stair on stair, toiling amain 
 To climb the naked chalk : then would he lean 
 Forward, with dazzled eyes and dizzy brain, 
 And feel that flesh is weak, and labour vain. 
 At length, with hope ascending, by degrees 
 He topp'd the crest of danger and of pain, 
 G-rasp'd the green turf with clinging hands and knees, 
 And spurn' d the tufted pink— the darling of the seas. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 Faint on the reeling earth, as in a swoon. 
 He lay : on either eyelid hung a cloud 
 Of horror undefined : so lour'd at noon 
 The sky, with supernatural blackness bow'd. 
 On the pale faces of the conscious crowd. 
 A prayer for help the wounded man preferr'd ; 
 And, lo ! a friar, with healing art endow' d, 
 And daily charity in deed and word ! 
 The knight, reviving, spoke— the monk, obedient, heard. 
 
28 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 " Look to the ramparts ! bid De Heyno look ; 
 Man the sea-wall, and double-guard the tower ! 
 Let Urry mount and prick to Carisbrook, 
 And tell De Langford how, this very hour. 
 The French at anchor ride, and launch their power. 
 Bid ISTorreys raise the villages and farms, 
 And hence to Knighton all the country scour ; 
 Let Ashey-beacon redden with alarms. 
 
 La Eye send bowmen out, and Brading men-at-arms ! 
 
 LI. 
 
 " The vale of Morton, and the ridge beyond 
 And hollow way, let Oglander maintain ! 
 De Wode and Milton, Tar and Taverland, 
 The knight of "Woolverton ^dll hold amain, 
 "With serried spears, and arrows thick as rain. 
 I charge the lords of Aula and De Lisle, 
 From steep Saint Lawrence down to Borwood-plain, 
 To keep each craggy gorge and deep defile : 
 
 Go ; and thine errand done, pray for our native Isle." 
 
CANTO I. 29 
 
 LII. 
 
 The golden hours run down. The warrior pale 
 Sat on his war-horse, near the western gate 
 Of flaming Woolverton, in radiant mail, 
 And helm red-flashing as with wrath and hate : 
 To save the city he had come too late ! 
 Up the main river, ere the morning rose. 
 The Graul had glided by without debate 
 Or check or challenge : sunk in deep repose, 
 Tlie very sentries slept — in stole the wary foes. 
 
 LIII. 
 
 They landed on the quay, and having slain 
 The nodding archer, steep' d in drowsy mead, 
 And such as, far outnumber' d, fought in vain. 
 The seaward gate they open, as agreed. 
 To the main body — doom'd, ere long, to bleed ! 
 All hope and memory of fair renown, 
 Of laurell'd victory and knightly deed. 
 Soon in low thoughts and sensual joys they drown- 
 Eapine and rape and murder seize the naked town. 
 
30 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 LIT. 
 
 Yet, prostrate thus, and taken by surprise, 
 It fell not unavenged — a passive prey : 
 Each for his hearth and home, and those dear eyes 
 Dearer to him and brighter than the day, — 
 Fought with a desperate strength that struck dismay. 
 Erom house to house, from street to street, red Death, 
 "With fire and sword and ruffian dirk made way. 
 Affronting Heaven, and quicken' d by the breath 
 Of Cain defying Cain ! — Where dwell the sons of Seth ? 
 
 LV. 
 
 Back from the spoil an angry trumpet calls 
 The stragglers ;■ — some to perish on the plain ; 
 Some, gorged with plunder, while they grasp the walls, 
 Or amid red-hot rafters crawl with pain, 
 To feel the vengeance of the quiver' d train ; 
 Eor either wood is fledged with winged woe ! 
 "Who reach the river, with their life-blood stain 
 The waters ! — then the leader of the foe 
 Eade clear the bristling heights, and ragged skirts below. 
 
CANTO I. 31 
 
 Meanwhile, alighting, one with hopeful look 
 And welcome tidings hail'd the British knight : 
 " They come, the bravest spears of Carisbrook ! 
 Sir John de Langford on the vantage-height 
 Pricks on amain with still-increasing might ; 
 The lord of Wooton over Ashey-down, 
 And lord of JNTunwell, with Sir John unite ; 
 De Gorges, and the knight of Alverstown, 
 And young De Bosco, bum for battle and renown. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 " But see, the bajffled enemy, in force, 
 Would cross the river ; clouds of foot prepare 
 To scour the woods, and sweep the water-course !" 
 " And they are welcome, Urry, all who dare 
 Storm our rough fortress, steep as turret-stair ! 
 Gro, range the bowmen yonder, while I ford 
 The river with our horse ; for, lo ! in air, 
 The banner of Saint Greorge, and his bright sword ! 
 And, hark ! a brazen cry to fray the pirate horde ! " 
 
32 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 Through Morton-gap the beamy spears defile, 
 And fiery squadrons, pouring o'er the plain 
 By Yarbridge : higher, to the north, meanwhile, 
 The light-arm' d infantry and archer- train. 
 Extending o'er the ridge, a thicket gain. 
 As when a tiger, thirsting after blood. 
 In Niger moved to quench the burning pain. 
 Doth meet a lion — champion of the flood ; 
 So France and England, chafed with indignation, stood. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 Gall'd by the shafts of vengeance on his right, 
 The bold invader launch' d a nimble band 
 Against the tangled ground, to close in fight 
 "With Oglander and Hackett, hand to hand, 
 Disputing inch by inch each foot of land ; 
 But the sharp axe, and broadsword biting deep, 
 And barbed arrow, from the mound full-mann'd. 
 Drove them, no more to storm the stubborn keep, 
 Pierced through and through, cut down, or tumbled from 
 the steep. 
 
CANTO I. 33 
 
 LX. 
 
 Then bray'd a trumpet ; aild a voice more clear 
 And thrilling shouted o'er the terrible blast, 
 " Charge !" and, as one, with pointed sword and spear. 
 On hooves of light, the British host swept past 
 (Fiercer than Thracian horses and more fast), 
 To meet the rush of fiery-hearted France, 
 Black-maned, tempestuous, as the lightning cast 
 On the dazed eye of battle : Death, advance 
 Thy shadowy squadrons, horse to horse, and lance to lance ! 
 
 LXI. 
 
 The shock, the plunge, the waving up and down 
 O'er fields incarnadine ; the deadly thrust. 
 And the fell cleaving of the iron crown ; 
 The mortal agony, the greedy lust 
 Of purple honour humbled in the dust ; — 
 I have not heart to sing; for thou, De Lisle, 
 Art but a name ! De Grorges' sword is rust ! 
 No more shall victory on Langford smile, 
 ]^or cheer the Eussell dying for his native isle ! 
 
34 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 He, in the thick of battle unobserved, 
 Had cross' d the stream, and pierced an open flank 
 (The left wing having from the centre swerved), 
 And roll'd the broken war rank over rank 
 Confounded : some in bloody marish sank. 
 Or floundering, men and horses, in the mud, 
 Felt the fierce pricker, spear' d from either bank ; 
 Some hurry to the boats, some ride the flood ; 
 While red the river runneth down with human blood. 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 A panic, glancing from the helm of Pear, 
 Shot to the centre ! " Sauve qui pent !" a cry 
 Heard on a day more dreadful, when the cheer 
 Of British soldiers shook the Belgian sky, 
 ^NTow quiver' d on the lid of agony, 
 Elush'd the pale cheek, and drown' d the dying moan : 
 The Eussell, for his country proud to die, 
 Look'd up, — for hearth, for altar, and for throne 
 Devoted to the death, — and died without a groan ^ ! 
 
 1 In the reign of Edward III., the French landed at St. Helen's were met by the 
 islanders, under Sir John de Langford, Constable of Carisbrooke ; Sir Bartholomew 
 de Lisle, and Sir Theobald Russell, wardens of the island; and were driven back 
 to their ships with loss. Sir Theobald Russell was killed in action. 
 
CANTO I. 35 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 Honour to him, and to his country peace ! 
 Peace to the commonwealth' of humankind ! 
 That war for ever from the world might cease, 
 And mutual charity the nations bind. 
 And emulation be no more unkind ! 
 Meanwhile, to such as would redeem a land 
 From spoil and death, be deathless praise assign' d ! 
 Whether a "Wolfe or Moore from high command 
 Fall, or a Worsley lead the patriotic band * ! 
 
 LXV. 
 
 Peaceful as any nook of meadow-ground 
 In pastoral England, sleeps the battle-plain, 
 And open turf with quiet girded round 
 In the blue air : Hope soweth not in vain ! 
 Joy in due time will reap the golden grain ! 
 And if on woman-bom fall, even Jiere, 
 The common lot of labour and of pain, 
 Yet, pain is partial— love will labour cheer, 
 And Danger only dwell in visionary fear. 
 
 1 In Henry VIII.'s reign, or in Edward VI.'s, or in both, the French landed in 
 force, and were driven back by Richard Worsley, Captain of the island. 
 
 D 2 
 
36 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 Imagination, out of air or earth, 
 Will shape a phantom in the twilight hour, 
 Call from the deep a supernatural birth, 
 People the ferry-boat, or on the tower 
 Of sainted Helen post a watchful power ; 
 To vanish these when challenged, those to cheat 
 Indignant Charon of his proper dower. 
 Some growing hoary where the waters meet. 
 Some on the ripple seen to glance with gleamy feet. 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 Blessed are ye, remote from fields of blood, 
 And tyranny's wide-wasting overflow. 
 Who but imagine the tormented flood. 
 But drain the vial of ideal woe ! 
 The real vintage may ye never know ! 
 Never among you sound the baleful cry 
 Of war, the thunder of the trampling foe I 
 With Freedom dweU, beneath a fresher sky 
 Than Tempo breathed of old, or dew-lipp'd Arcady. 
 
THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 CANTO 11. 
 
CANTO II. 
 
 Whethee to climb a region of the sun 
 Waved up and down ; or under osier shade 
 To see the rivulet in silver run, 
 And draw the lurker out of ambuscade ; 
 Whether the plain in floral pomp displayed 
 To range ; or pace the billow-beaten strand, 
 What time the thunder-bearing ships have stay'd 
 Their course beneath the shadow of the land ; — 
 Such choice might win old Time in silent poise to stand ! 
 
40 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 Did he not hold, impatient of delay, 
 Eed Gribeon, pawing on the lofty place, 
 When Uriel— radiant angel of the day — 
 Check' d at a word his chariot's fiery race ? 
 But now the glowing hours move on apace — 
 Love dreameth they will hover round some spot 
 Of beauty or of melancholy grace ; 
 While musing Memory on one green plot 
 Beneath a grey old tower, their flight regardeth not, 
 
 III. 
 
 Who would not linger in the bower of Morn, 
 Muse on the mountain, dive into the dell, 
 And hear the heath-bee wind her buglehorn 
 On high, or gurgle out of a clear cell 
 Whence dewy droppings as of amber well ? 
 Who, looking down from Nunwell's pastoral height 
 On a boon region where the gentle dwell, 
 Who would not pray, that never blast nor blight, 
 JSTor canker may deflower the garden of delight ? 
 
CANTO II. 41 
 
 IV. 
 
 Eound Brading, fields of golden promise lie, 
 Rich plains and vales of plenty ; each hill- side 
 Is bathed in splendour ; beeches hang on high ; 
 Broad oaks and elms down to the bitter tide 
 Spread, overshadowing the quiet glide 
 Of sea-fowl white as foam upon the sand ! 
 G-rey turrets glimmer, through the foliage spied. 
 Beyond those dwellings which conspicuous stand 
 Group' d on an orient edge of lightly-rippled land. 
 
 V. 
 
 The Priory-woods, skirting a rocky bay, 
 Dip in the calm ; or where the breakers beat, 
 Toss from their branching heads the shiver' d spray ; 
 To put forth greenly, whether ocean greet 
 Them rudely, or relenting, kiss their feet. 
 Up from the water boughs umbrageous spread, 
 Bough over bough — the squirrel's dim retreat ; 
 Flowers bright as Hesper starry radiance shed. 
 And balmier dews than steep the cedar's odorous head. 
 
42 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 TI. 
 O'er lawn and hollow let the myrtle-tree 
 Bloom, and tlie bay-tree spread from side to side 
 Beyond Mount Appley to the Solent Sea ! 
 Like a broad river rolls the Channel-tide 
 In which a thousand keels at anchor ride ! 
 And yet, so slippery seems each human stay, 
 On such a quicksand do we pile our pride, 
 A battle-ship, huge — heeling as she lay. 
 With all her gallant crew went down in open day ^ ! 
 
 VII. 
 
 Grone in a moment ! hurried headlong down 
 From light and hope to darkness and despair ! 
 Plunged into utter night without renown ! 
 Bereft of all, — home, country, earth, and air, — 
 "Without a warning, yea, without a prayer ! 
 So swiftly round them did the waters sweep. 
 The strangling waters never known to spare ! 
 Peace be their portion ! undisturb'd their sleep 
 Beside the murmuring main, or down the channel' d deep * ! 
 
 1 " When Kempenfelt went down, 
 With twice four hundred men." 
 
 CowPER. On the loss of the Royal George. 
 2 The Dover, between Ryde and Sea View, is the burial-place of part of the 
 crew of the Royal George. 
 
CANTO II. 43 
 
 Yin. 
 
 Northward, where "hush'd in grim repose" they lie 
 Bulky and black on the smooth brine, behold 
 Britannia's bulwarks crown' d with victory ! 
 What though in peace their eagle-wings they fold, 
 Fame in her living volume hath enroll' d 
 Their deeds heroic, destined to impart 
 Hope, emulation, ardour, to the bold ! 
 What though no more death's thunderbolts they dart. 
 Each plank could tell a tale would rouse the tamest heart ! 
 
 IX. 
 
 Whence juts the pier, where stands the terrace, stood 
 A poor old hamlet by the sea embay' d. 
 In which a bold and rugged brotherhood 
 Dwelt, plying on the deep a perilous trade : 
 Their bones are bleach' d ere now, their huts decay' d. 
 Their graves forgotten : where they used to hang 
 Their nets to dry, spire, porch, and colonnade 
 Grleam ; where the squirrel danced and throstle sang. 
 Wheels roll, and ladies glide, and orators harangue. 
 
44 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 X. 
 
 So changed is Eyde ! yet, bower and thatcli combine 
 To weave an arbour for the brooding wren. 
 E-ound ancient Binstead roses would entwine 
 G-arlands of joj, could meadow, grove, or glen 
 But banish evil from the haunts of men ! 
 Bower' d Manse, and thou grey pile devote to prayer, 
 Who having seen you would not see again ? 
 Who, sick of emulation, pomp, and glare. 
 To solitude so peaceful would not fain repair ? 
 
 XI. 
 
 How deem'd the brethren, they who whilom dwelt 
 In Quarr's vast abbey \ ruin'd now and hoar ! 
 In the deep woods they heard a Yoice ! they felt 
 A Presence on the solitary shore ! 
 They in the vaulted blue did Grod adore ! 
 And when the fickle sky was overcast. 
 And deep to deep replied with hollow roar. 
 On awful errand while the tempest pass'd. 
 Their anthems peal'd to heaven borne on the rushing blast. 
 
 1 Quarr abbey was a monastery of the Cistercian order. 
 
CANTO II. 46 
 
 XII. 
 Ye walls, or green or lioarj, which have heard 
 The choral piety of other days, 
 Let now the carol of the blissful bird 
 Outpouring unpremeditated lays, 
 Eill your void heart with orison and praise ! 
 The matin song and vesper bees shall hum, 
 The pensive bosom faithful homage raise. 
 The breath of heaven into the chapel come, 
 Though silent be each cell, each oratory dumb ! 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Tradition hinteth, how in olden time 
 On false foundations rose the towers of wrong, 
 Dug, hewn, cemented with the spoils of crime. 
 It telleth, how the jocund hours along 
 Danced to wild revelry and wanton song ; — 
 How sloth and sensuality and guile 
 Were put to shame by one brave woman, strong 
 To bow the lofty, and to quell the vile, — 
 The royal Isabella, Lady of the Isle * ! 
 
 1 The Countess Isabel de Fortibus, Lady of the Isle of Wight,- a pious woman 
 and beneficent, and just withal, checked the monks of Quarr in their exactions, 
 abbot and pope notwithstanding. 
 
46 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XIT. 
 
 It may be ; since, unstable as the sand 
 And winnow' d by tbe fanner, flesb is weak : 
 Egyptian darkness lay upon tbe land — 
 In Oreb thunder glared from peak to peak ! 
 Few thought of Calvary, or cared to seek ! 
 The brethren wander' d, to the Bible blind, 
 Of Hebrew ignorant, and hating Greek ; 
 And yet, among them, would the purer mind 
 As pious incense rise, and leave the world behind. 
 
 XT. 
 
 The troubled waters so would I forsake, 
 And inland glide on thy cerulean stream. 
 Oak-bathing Wootton, like a brimful lake 
 Grlassing a turtle-glen ; so tranquil seem 
 Thy waters basking in the noontide beam ! 
 Erom either border, glades of verdure rise 
 Between dun woods and golden, where they gleam 
 Aslant, or take the zenith. Hungry cries 
 Clang o'er the deep and jar the woodland melodies ! 
 
CANTO II. 47 
 
 Dip in the clear blue water branches old 
 Of oaks, on th' eastern cliff, whose ruddy breast 
 Is knotted o'er with tangles manifold. 
 Yon bay, in deep green shadow, on the West 
 Imbowered, seems the very port of rest ! 
 Long may the glebe above in fruit abound, 
 With blooms of either Ind, balm-dropping, blest I 
 Love crown the Eectory with myrtle crown' d. 
 Then, under native elms, lie down in hallow' d ground ! 
 
 XYII. 
 
 Thwarting the current, up the vale, appears 
 A long low mole bridging a flood of light : 
 A jutting Mill its hoary length uproars 
 O'er russet thatch half-hidden from the sight 
 Down in a wooded hollow, to the right ; 
 And where the hamlet eastward of the stream 
 Hangs in the sunshine do^n the bosky height, 
 Spangs, as of diamond, obliquely gleam 
 On window-pane and roof lit with an emerald beam. 
 
48 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XYIII. 
 
 Above the river, up from Wootton-Bridge 
 Unfading groves, as on Orontes, rise 
 To grace a mansion on the ferny ridge. 
 In whose high turret peradventure lies 
 *' Some Beauty, cynosure of neighbouring eyes." 
 Sweet dreamer ! feel the freshness of that hour 
 Slow-steaming up the lake, when seas and skies 
 Throw off the leaden cloud, and many a shower 
 Of rubies and of pearls drops from the dewy Power ! 
 
 XIX. 
 
 So bower' d, might Una, white of soul, admire 
 The forest-glades with verdure overspread. 
 On whose rough edge the cedar would aspire 
 To heaven ; and oak and pine and beech-tree shed 
 Pruit ; and young Daphne lift her laurelled head ; 
 And Love for Beauty weave a myrtle band ; 
 And Sorrow, under cypress mourn her dead ; 
 And Hope in rapture by the yew-tree stand 
 Watching the Tree of Life bloom in the better land ! 
 
CANTO II. 49 
 
 Lone on the mountain where a pillar gray 
 Stands, as a beacon, pointing to the sky, 
 To guide the wanderer o'er the billowy way, 
 A prospect opens filling the rapt eye 
 With inexhaustible variety. 
 Spangled with hght, blue seas about us roU'd, 
 Heave, or embay' d in a calm haven lie. 
 And evermore the guarded isle infold : 
 Cliff over cliff is piled up to the starry wold. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Where, out of swathing clouds, the seaborn sun 
 Bursts on the waters flush' d with crimson sheen. 
 Two capes hang over ; white and dazzling one. 
 One dark and frowning o'er the flood is seen : 
 Downs to the South and West, with dells between 
 Of dewy verdure, overlook a vale 
 Yaried with golden grain and herbage green. 
 And purple clover over hill and dale 
 Breathing, as groves of spice beneath a balmy gale. 
 
50 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 xxn. 
 
 That vale who wander of their own free will, 
 From love of Nature whom no cares estrange, 
 They of weird labyrinth and elfin hill, 
 Of ferny ridge and heath of ample range, 
 Are free t' enjoy the grateful interchange ; 
 To share the benison of sacred spire 
 Ethereal, hallowing cottage, glebe, and grange ; 
 Into the depth of pine-woods to retire. 
 Or up the blue, glad Voice, to track thy wing of fire. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 While pleased they listen, or pursue their search 
 By grove and river and resounding shore. 
 Pause we beside an ancient village-church 
 South of the Signal-Stone, of aspect hoar. 
 The craggy gorge of Knighton hanging o'er. 
 The rock, thro' foliage peering, red or grey, 
 Looks down on meadows rich in grassy store, 
 As April green, and quiet as the day 
 When o'er their fathers' graves the children come to pray. 
 
CANTO II. 
 
 XXIY. 
 
 Divinely charged to warn and to command, 
 To cheer and comfort, bending under years 
 Before the people see the preacher stand, 
 That Name invoking heaven and earth reveres, 
 The Lord and Father whom he loves and fears. 
 Faith, Hope, and Charity, the three sublime. 
 Exalt him, rapt above the starry spheres, 
 Beyond the gulph of unenduring time 
 Up to the Fountain-Light of an unchanging clime. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 What if the world know nothing of his name, 
 "What though his talents be confined to few. 
 His worth not flourish' d by the trump of fame — 
 Is mortal vision privileged to view 
 The silent shedding of the daily dew ? 
 Who court her favour let the world record. 
 Bestowing praise on such as praise pursue : 
 Sufficient unto those who love the Lord 
 To reap, a hundred-fold, of love the free reward ! 
 E 2 
 
52 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 To Truth that all who dwell on earth would hearken, 
 And own her beauty, and in homage kneel ! 
 Eut should a cloud of doubt or error darken 
 One human mind, that Mercy, tempering zeal, 
 Would for the lone benighted wanderer feel ! 
 For what is man, that he should dare deny 
 To such a portion of the common weal. 
 Doubt of the mercies which about us lie. 
 Or, dim of orb, detect a mote in other eye ? 
 
 But, lo ! a vein of emerald through the vale, 
 By fountains freshen' d of perennial play 
 When all the brooks in Yallombrosa fail ! 
 Glistens the river in the golden ray 
 Outspread, or under alders steals away 
 Deep, dark, and as a gliding serpent stiU. 
 Enjoy the fragrance of the new-mown hay ; 
 Admire, rich pastures roaming at your will. 
 Below the dun oak-wood the quivering water-mill. 
 
CANTO II. r>3 
 
 XXYIII. 
 
 Thither, a nook to few but anglers known, 
 The speckled trout and silver eel repair, 
 Haunting some hollow bank in Alverstone, 
 Or dimpled eddy ; while the roach and dare 
 Skim the smooth surface as a mirror fair, 
 Untroubled, saving when the rover bold. 
 The torrent cleaving like a thing of air, 
 Leaps on them, darting from his watery hold 
 Beneath entangled roots of ash or willow old. 
 
 xxtx. 
 
 Through sunny meads and many a depth of shade 
 Now gently flowing, now a rapid flood. 
 Winds the full river, either marge array' d 
 In leaf and flower of early bloom and bud, 
 On which recumbent Quiet chews the cud. 
 Smooth are the pebbles over which it flows, 
 Blue-vein' d, or redder than the veined blood ; 
 And where the current with the sea would close, 
 Spread over golden sands, Pactolus-like, it glows. 
 
54 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 Below the water-mill, embay' d between 
 Yon even glide and the tumultuous main, 
 The pool of Tarbridge round and round is seen 
 To wind among the willows, roU'd in vain 
 From either margin back, and back again ! 
 There, in the balmy time, the pulse of May 
 Would beat responsive to the passionate strain 
 Of that enchanter, whose melodious lay 
 Can trance the quivering stars, and hush the coil of day. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 It rippled on a rivulet of sound 
 Under the bridge, and so the stony side 
 Touch' d, that I knew not, while the trout wheel' d round, 
 To drop the May-fly where with upward glide 
 A counter current check' d the tumbling tide ; 
 To lure, with ruddy worm, eels darkly roll'd. 
 Or flounders haunting where the minnows hide, 
 Or wallowing far down, in deeper hold. 
 The gorgeous river-carp bathed in a flood of gold. 
 
CANTO II. 55 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Eiver, not idly did I see thy stream 
 
 With natural touches smoothe the rugged stone ! 
 Not idly wander in a waking dream 
 Bright as the sunbeams which above me shone ! 
 From Nature taking a contented tone, 
 Apart, yet ever in a social mood, 
 With Love around me could I feel alone ? 
 The mind with Beauty vividly imbued 
 Can clothe the naked rock, can people solitude. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Stream, on whose breast of sunshine and of shade 
 Myriads, upglancing, take an emerald hue, 
 Be mine, once more to stray as I have stray' d 
 Among thy brooding alders, and to view 
 The ray upon the river glinting through ; 
 While warblers, jfrom the land of roses, tell 
 Of love, and stilL the liquid notes renew. 
 And overflowing out of a clear well 
 Trickle, and gurgle down, and bathe the willowy deU ! 
 
56 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XXXIT. 
 
 JS'orth of tlie pillar, where broad masses lie 
 Of pine and oak on Ashey's swelling base, 
 One forest stretch' d of old from sea to sky, 
 A natural harbourage for beasts of chase : 
 Under the greenwood ranged the browsing race ; 
 On forky bough the squirrel built her nest. 
 And chose a frugal cave in secret place. 
 And purring from the bottom of her breast. 
 Grave up her heart to joy ! — Pine-marten, let her rest ! 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 League after league the furry tribe would roam 
 From tree to tree with many a nimble bound, 
 
 , On food and frolic bent, returning home 
 With acorn-nut and wilding early found : 
 Who now may see them run their airy round ? 
 Perch' d in their room, one richly plumed, and spurr'd, 
 Crows ! — the grey growth of ages piles the ground ! 
 Where bray'd the stag, and where the squirrel purr'd, 
 
 The mortal axe wiU ring ere Winter's scythe be heard. 
 
CANTO II. 67 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Till then, ye forest-elves, in green array 
 Flout the dull iron hung on rusty nail ; 
 Te winged genii, chaunt a roundelay 
 Of joy and triumph, till above the vale 
 Of Wootton, slow the stars of twilight sail ; 
 Till, striding on from the Cimmerian shore, 
 Over the creek, the river, and the dale, 
 To the dim wood and mountain looming o'er. 
 The dewy shadows spread, and deepen more and more. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Yet, though the region here be sunk in shade, 
 No longer brighten' d by the fiery beam, 
 There, rays of splendour kindle grove and glade, 
 Grlow on the grass, and sparkle o'er the stream. 
 The rock imbathing with an amber gleam : 
 Light from the dripping oar uplifted flows. 
 Spangling the sidelong hull ; the billows seem 
 On fire ; and like to banner' d victory shows 
 Above yon cloudy tent the purple tinged with rose ! 
 
58 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 The pomp is marching o'er the crested hill 
 Of flame, to perish with the blunted rays 
 Of the red archer. — JSTow the wheel o' the miU 
 Rests ; not a ripple on the water plays ; 
 'No beam is on the bough, no windows blaze ! 
 Now, not a leaf, however light is stirr'd ; 
 Steals over lake and lawn a silver haze : 
 Hush'd is the woodland voice, or only heard 
 To twitter now and then, rebuking truant bird. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Hail, twilight ! winnow' d by the dewy wing 
 Of owl, familiar with the vampire flight 
 Of apparition haunting grove and spring ; 
 Hail, in the breadth of heaven and in the height 
 And in the depth, ye roUing orbs of light, 
 While, with a train of stars from east to west, 
 From ocean rises she who rules the night. 
 Toil, lay thy burden down and take thy rest, 
 And more than rubies prize the pearl of a clear breast. 
 
THE FAIK ISLAND. 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
CANTO III. 
 
 The stars look wan, and heavily the sky 
 Droops o'er the cradle of the young-eyed day : 
 ' The river-vapours, as they curl on high, 
 The vroodland veiling o'er with wimple grey, 
 Touch 'd by the breath of Morning, melt away ! 
 The salt spray flinging from his golden hair 
 The sun uprises, now with ruddy ray 
 The skirts attinging of the gloomy air, 
 ^ow mellowing tree and tower and promontory bare. 
 
62 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 n. 
 
 As when to water Earth, and those new-bom 
 In Eden, moulded by the Hand Divine, 
 A mist went up ; so fresh is early Mom, 
 Imbathing leaf and bloom, tendril and twine 
 Of honeysuckle and of eglantine ; 
 Dropping with balm, where roses dew-besprent 
 SuiFused with fragrance on their stems rechne ; 
 Or where from damask' d earth flowers sweet of scent 
 Up to the sun aspire and purpling orient. 
 
 III. 
 
 In silence, inly stirr'd, the deeps are steaming 
 Up like a caldron all in silver roU'd, 
 Save where live sparks of sunny light are gleaming 
 Over the water in a flood of gold 
 In undulation floating manifold. 
 Who taste the freshness of that early time. 
 Though bow'd with age in feeling are not old, 
 A new creation in a genial clime 
 Enjoying, such as earth own'd in the dewy prime ! 
 
CANTO III. 63 
 
 IT. 
 
 Child of Aurora, Beauty bathed in light, 
 Of virgin purity, of sovereign grace, 
 Benign of brow intelligibly bright, 
 Oh ! for a finer eye thy path to trace, 
 An eye more holy to behold thy face, 
 What time the lily shakes off dewy sleep, 
 And shafts of fire transpierce the shady place, 
 And vermil touches tinge the snowy steep. 
 While verdure clothes the vale, and dimples crisp the deep ! 
 
 V. 
 
 The world is waking — you may hear the bee 
 Plunged in the nectar of an opening flower — 
 Bells tinkle, kine are lowing o'er the lea. 
 And through the foliage like a stealing shower, 
 Is heard the breathing of a plaintive power, 
 Is felt the fanning of an airy wing. 
 Up, lark ! and hymn the vivifying hour ! 
 Awake and warble, ye that emulous sing 
 In garden, field, and grove, till rock and valley ring. 
 
64 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 YI. 
 
 Skirting the wood, or skimming o'er the stream, 
 Now wheels the swaUow her erratic flight : 
 On tree or tower no more the rosy beam 
 Lingers, involved in universal light : 
 The sun, careering, fires the beacon-height, 
 Grlows on the meadow, trembles on the tide, 
 And steeps the forest leaves in amber bright : 
 With gliding Wootton here the sunbeams glide, 
 There on the white-maned neck of the sea-monster ride. 
 
 YII. 
 
 The landscape varies, now with plenty crown' d, 
 In weed divinely woven now array' d : 
 Or green or golden waves the fruitful ground ; 
 Earth for her poorest weaves a purple braid ! 
 A bay is opening under sylvan shade, 
 To which a homicide, of royal race, 
 A baffled despot, whilom slunk dismay' d. 
 And in the bosom of the shady place 
 A refuge hoped to find from danger and disgrace. 
 
CANTO III. 66 
 
 vin. 
 
 From Eimimede, unable to withstand 
 Arm'd Eight, the king fled hither ; and we reap 
 The fruit, in the G-reat Charter of the land ! 
 Here mused the sullen mind, and o'er the deep 
 Cast, how in blood the sceptred hand to steep. 
 But Truth and Honour now the royal bay- 
 In the wide round of one dominion keep ; 
 And love and duty hail yon turret gray. 
 And ivy'd castle towering o'er the watery way. 
 
 IX. 
 
 There, in the sunshine of a mother's snule. 
 Under the mantle of a mother's care, 
 A maid, the hope of England, bloom' d awhile, 
 Bright as the jewel in Aurora's hair. 
 Fresh as the rose, and as the Hly fair ; 
 "Whom with enduring virtue Heaven endow 
 The burden of a kiagly crown to bear ! 
 A heavy burden for the thiakiag brow 
 Charged with the woes and cares which human nature bow I 
 
66 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 X. 
 
 rrom East to West a Queen the nations own ; 
 Her nod imperial North and South obey : 
 Beneath her trident none in bondage groan : 
 Erect the negro hails the heavenly ray ; 
 The red man where he wiU pursues his prey. 
 Erom Indus' flood to Granges' fruitM plain 
 Swart myriads kiss the sceptre of thy sway, 
 Victoria, regent of the Lord to reign, 
 To hear the bitter cry, to ease the galhng chain ! 
 
 XI. 
 
 Eooted in Eaith, no revolution fearing, 
 Of true religion thou the guardian be, 
 Of virtue the rewarder, Him revering. 
 By whom kings reign, and princes right decree. 
 The heart complying with the bended knee, 
 Give ear to Pity pleading for offence, 
 To punish sparing while to pardon free : 
 Life of the Law, impartial doom dispense, 
 Authority uphold, maintain obedience ! 
 
CANTO III. 67 
 
 Eountain of honour ! keep the channel pure ! 
 Who truth pervert, or purity deprave, 
 Them in thy radiant presence not endure ! 
 Delight to honour the devoted brave 
 On earth triumphant, ruling o'er the wave, 
 Who, death defying in a righteous cause, 
 Eeclaim the savage, or redeem the slave ; 
 Who, loving freedom, rally round the laws, 
 But on the perilous edge of innovation pause. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Untravell'd regions while the bold explore, 
 The dark t' illumine, and the rude refine, 
 Let Commerce freely float from shore to shore ! 
 Encourage Science ; let not Art decline ; 
 Nor G-enius build in vain the lofty line. 
 Deliver out of danger and distress 
 Who cry aloud or uncomplaining pine, 
 Till every heart allow, and tongue confess, 
 A parent to the poor and weak and fatherless ! 
 F 2 
 
THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 xrv. 
 
 Come tlien what may I thougli hatred howl alarms, 
 And envy, adder-like, thy path pursue ; 
 " Come the three corners of the world in arms. 
 And we shall shock them ! — ISTought shall make us rue, 
 If England to itself do rest but true." 
 Heaven guard thee, Lady ! — honour, love, renown. 
 Adorn thy days in number not a few ! 
 And when the kingly charge thou layest down, 
 The palm, Yictoria, take, and amaranthine crown. 
 
 * XT. 
 
 So singing, rapt beyond the sky-bird's flight. 
 As one who readeth in the starry sky 
 The dawning glory of a child of light. 
 The poet kenn'd with a prophetic eye 
 The Star of England crown' d with majesty. 
 Visions and dreams divine to few belong, 
 Or height or depth of rolling harmony ; 
 And yet, the least of all the tuneful throng 
 "Will soar among the stars, and swell the choral song. 
 
CANTO III. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 'Mid shooting meteors woe and death revealing, 
 A Star is shining up the crystal ways 
 Of truth and purity and equal dealing, 
 Fix'd, on the steep of dark and stormy days, 
 A monument of wonder and of praise ! 
 Thrones fall, dominions languish, empires cease 1 
 Yet, out of night and chaos Hope will raise 
 Her head, and Faith look up, and Love increase. 
 Over the wide profound brooding with wings of peace ! 
 
 XVII. 
 
 In quiet here, round beetling Morris, flow 
 The waters of Medina : tree and tower 
 And meadow, in the light of beauty glow. 
 The river-boat glides with the golden hour 
 Where fleets at anchor lie when tempests lour. 
 Floats, of all colours, over many a crew 
 The flag of Commerce humanizing Power ! 
 The far-off frigate heaving into view 
 Looms, and the dipping oars flash on the billowy blue ! 
 
70 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XTIII. 
 
 Deep-imaged in the bosom of the stream, 
 With folded wings the ocean-wanderer lies ; 
 While to and fro, each shooting like a beam 
 Of Summer radiance through cerulean skies. 
 The sails of Pleasure hght on laughing eyes. 
 Up in the sunshine, brightening either side 
 Of the blue river, towns and castles rise. 
 Through depth of foliage indistinctly spied. 
 Or bare along the beach reflected in the tide. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Cowes, are thy waters flowing as they flow'd 
 When crown' d Carausius on the spumy swell 
 Triumphant o'er the Eoman proudly rode ? 
 Or when (so children launch a walnut-shell) 
 The Briton floated in a coracle 
 Of woven willow shagg'd with bristling hides ? 
 In such, e'en now, who near Plynlimmon dwell. 
 Or lower down by Severn's rugged sides, 
 May paddle round and round the salmon as it glides. 
 
CANTO III. 71 
 
 XX. 
 
 The breakers roar, as wlien the Saxon swept 
 Our coasts, and Cerdic gloated o'er the slain. 
 Mocking at Desolation, while she wept 
 And caU'd on each prophetic oak in vain ! 
 Then "Wulfer smote her with the edge of pain ; 
 And CeadwaUer bathed the Cross in blood, 
 I^ot knowing what he did. Then rose the Dane 
 To nip the hope of Freedom in the bud ; 
 But Alfred overwhelm' d the tyrant of the flood. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Where dwelt the Druid, on that eastern hiU 
 Oak-crown' d, young ivy streaks the stony tower, 
 Perennial verdure running where it wiU. 
 For the wild underwood and forest flower, 
 Lo ! the smooth lawn, and aromatic bower 
 Exotic, over which a fountain flings 
 Eefreshing coolness like a summer shower ! 
 The bason dimpled o'er with widening rings 
 Back to the mirror' d Arum lilied beauty brings. 
 
72 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Spanning the silver column, I have seen 
 The radiant angel of the calm on high 
 Colour the rocks amid the liquid sheen, 
 And on the golden fishes gliding by- 
 Throw gorgeous hues as of a tropic sky, 
 And tinge the weeds that lift a starry head 
 Above the water, or at bottom lie ; 
 And I have heard him sing the glory shed 
 On river, sea, and sky immeasurably spread ! 
 
 xxrct. 
 
 Around the fountain Memory will rove, 
 Where Art and Nature deck th' enamel' d mound 
 With damask roses and the laurel grove. 
 And tulip tree with flowery verdure crown' d, 
 And garden-myrtle sweetest shrub on ground ; 
 Where, under covert, bloom those beauties rare 
 Which in far isles and fortunate abound, 
 Erect or pendent, trail' d with tender care, 
 Or lifted how we know not into light and air. 
 
CANTO III. 73 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Through leafy vistas will the pensive eye 
 Hoam over wood and water far and wide, 
 Till dimness steal over the Summer sky ! 
 Between those branching oaks, on the blue tide 
 White Proas, wing'd with hope and pleasure, glide : 
 Beyond the Strait, a river as at first 
 Flows, with a slope of green on either side ; 
 Round Calshot sweeps the flood ; and Eaglehurst 
 Towers, pinnacled with light — ^but all is not as erst. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 For Time will pale the roses of the past ! 
 Who met in joy shall never meet again, 
 One on the coast of Mght untimely cast. 
 Another left to pine with grief and pain : 
 Yet, Love endureth ever, nor in vain ! 
 To wake the tender thoughts of other years — 
 To feed each home-affection and maintain — 
 To raise and temper human hopes and fears — 
 Belongeth unto Him who shared our groans and tears. 
 
74 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XXYI. 
 Bay'd in yon river lies an ancient port, 
 The royal Hampton, whence a hero sail'd 
 Thy plain to make immortal, Agincourt ! 
 Toil, plague, and famine, leagued with numbers, fail'd 
 To quell a spirit which hath never quail' d ; 
 The spirit of devotion taught to trust 
 In Him who fought for David and prevail' d, 
 In Him who dash'd the Moslem into dust 
 Before the sweeping sword of Scanderbeg the Just. 
 
 XXYII. 
 
 Launching on Cressy, here the kingly heart 
 Of Edward toil and pain did freely choose. 
 One in black armour bearing equal part : 
 There, on the beach, would mighty Canute muse 
 On the bold waves that dared his sway refuse \ 
 'Mid Netley Abbey Charles ^, in pensive mood, 
 Imperial grandeur lost, or seem'd to lose : 
 G-rey Huin, round the martlet and her brood 
 Be peace ! — not always found in cloister' d solitude ! 
 
 * It was on the strand at Southampton, that Canute, as the waves rolled about 
 his chair, rebuked the flattery of his courtiers. 
 2 The Emperor Charles V., on his return from a visit to Cardinal Wolsey, in 1522. 
 
CANTO III. 75 
 
 XXYIII. 
 
 Heaven on thy venture, sea-bathed Hampton, smile, 
 Wafting the goodly fruits of East and West 
 From each far continent and tropic-isle ! 
 Be still a haven for the sore-distress' d, 
 Health to the sick, and to the weary rest ! 
 Among the heathen bear the Truth divine, 
 To cleanse, to kindle, and to calm the breast, 
 No more, like Beaulieu's desecrated shrine, 
 A cell for things unclean, a sanctuary for swine ! 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Where the red Norman felt the shaft of fate, 
 A forest branches over antler' d deer 
 And long-maned horses, early seen and late 
 G-razing together, or in wild career ; 
 And there the fawn, her mother couching near 
 In the long fern, will close and closer skulk, 
 Shook by a falling leaf, the sport of fear. 
 A¥ide-spreading beach-trees, oaks of ample bulk 
 Abound, some scathed and shorn, like a dismantled hulk. 
 
76 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 Who would not fain, tlie greenwood ranging free, 
 Eepose when weary under sylvan shade ? 
 Unseen, the denizens of nature see 
 Thread the dun thicket, glide along the glade. 
 Browse the young branch, and crop the juicy blade ? 
 Who would not mark the spikes of golden light 
 Grieam through the leaves, then gradually fade 
 Into the colder grey of coming night ? 
 The glory who can paint ? who tell the deep delight ? 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 On the broad spur of an umbrageous oak 
 Or fruitful beech-tree, quietly reclined, 
 The calm profound of nature only broke 
 By hum of insect or by whispering wind, 
 Be mine to view the foliage unconfined. 
 The speckled trunk with mosses overspread, 
 The glossy, smooth, and party-colour' d rind, 
 Grrey, green, and purple ! what a grace is shed 
 About the pendulous boughs inwoven overhead ! 
 
CANTO III. 77 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 And yet, between me and that ancient grove, 
 And those live billows like a flood of fire, 
 And each green alley Fancy loved to rove, 
 A solemn thought will come, a shadow dire ! 
 Between me and the hope that would aspire 
 To joy, the hope that bounded blithe and free 
 To voices sweet as Memnon's morning lyre, 
 A silent stream flows ever— woe is me ! 
 Look onward, ye who mourn, beyond the sable sea ! — 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 The present stays not ! grasp the futv/re then. 
 And on the E/Ock of Ages laying hold. 
 Build for eternity, ye sons of men ! 
 Vain admonition ! truth subhmely told 
 In vain by bards and oracles of old ! 
 Shall truth for ever all a fable seem ? 
 Of man the moral be in vain unroll' d — 
 A flower — a span — a shadow on a stream — 
 To fall before the moth ! to vanish like a dream ! 
 
78 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 "Would man but yield, the desert would rejoice. 
 Breathe of the myrtle, blossom as the rose ; 
 The woodland greet him with a gladsome voice ; 
 The vernal wind tell where the violet blows ; 
 The vale, the mountain-peak, inspire repose ; 
 The surging ocean lift the soul on high ; 
 The flowing river freshen while it flows ; 
 The radiant dewdrop, and the starry sky, 
 Be colour' d with the hope of immortality ! 
 
 Not barren, here below, is all the way, 
 Gro where you will : if dreary tract and bare 
 Oft intervene, as now, 'twixt Grurnet Bay 
 And Yarmouth in the west ; yet, here and there, 
 A brook will flow, a forest hang in air ; 
 And, further inward, hill and dale disclose 
 Meadow and tilth, and park and hamlet fair. 
 And fertile glebe, o'er which when Sirius glows, 
 Wide wave the golden fields, and plenty overflows. 
 
CANTO III. 79 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Beyond them voyaging, the tired eye 
 E/ests on a smooth round sward, a slope of green 
 Down to a beamy point in the blue sky ; 
 Or on a pinnacle of starry sheen 
 Lights, o'er the yeasty tumult how serene ! 
 Umbrageous JSTorton and the Yarmouth-Sound 
 Past, what a pomp is on a sudden seen ! 
 Clear, colour' d, calm, above the blue profound — 
 Of mountains, rocks, and caves, and billows bursting 
 round ! 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Orb'd in a heaven of calm, the radiant one 
 Down rolling, spares not of his beams to fling 
 On the blue deep and o'er the forest dun, 
 A flood of splendour none may paint or sing, 
 A marvel bright beyond imagining ! 
 Rapt in the wonder and the glory, climb 
 Yon headland brush' d of many a rapid wing. 
 Haunt of the eagle in the dim old time 
 Plumb on the finny prey dropt from the crag sublime. 
 
80 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XXXTIII. 
 
 In amber rippling o'er the purple flood 
 Erom cape to cape now streams the level light ; 
 Now, like the Memphian river roU'd in blood, 
 Shorn of those beams which made the world so bright, 
 The Sun is going down — a solemn sight ! 
 Now, on their plumy vans returning home, 
 File the grim-featured round the Beacon-height, 
 And lo, till hunger bid the Harpy roam. 
 Wings folded on a breast refulgent as the foam ! 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Beyond the darkening forest, far away. 
 The red orb sinks — the crimson flush is o'er — 
 Black are the waters now in Alum Bay, 
 And black below you round the pebbled shore 
 Spann'd of one Arch of wonder evermore. 
 Yawns on the Needle-rocks a magic cave 
 With rainbow-woven roof and emerald floor. 
 Save where the cavern pearl and ruby pave. 
 Colouring with dewy light the crystal of the wave. 
 
CANTO III. 81 
 
 Float on the calm into the cave profound : 
 Ye may not enter when the billows dash 
 Against the veined flint with stunning sound, 
 Thro' vaulted chambers echoing like a crash 
 Of thunder, while the waters foam and flash 
 Without, and fling them up the shining steep, 
 Or baj03.ed, tumble back with startling splash. 
 While countless birds a coil eternal keep 
 About the rocks and caves along the troubled deep. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 How wildly plaintive, while the sun aslant 
 Plays on her plumage 'twixt the sky and sea. 
 The wheeling gull ! and hark ! the cormorant 
 Chiding a legion ranged in due degree. 
 With dank wing o'er the ledge to dangle free, 
 Haggard, green-eyed, and hungry as the grave ! 
 Shoots the swart Osprey down with headlong glee 
 To where the diver and the puffin brave 
 The billow, now ingulf' d, now riding on the wave. 
 
 G 
 
S% THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 As buoyant, on the round upheaving rode 
 Our bark, one memorable day in June, 
 "When, as the keel through the green water glode. 
 And ever with the ripple kept in tune, 
 " The long wake sparkled in the sleepy noon." 
 So sang, who down from Audley, " glad at heart,'* 
 Beheld the harbour-buoy dip in the moon ' ; 
 While he who bade the golden genii dart 
 Light on the donjon-gloom of Logan, mused apart ^, 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 What apparition iSitteth o'er the light. 
 Across the sunshine like a stealing shade, 
 Now hung in air over the beetling height, 
 Now clinging to the rock as one afraid. 
 As clings the bat by dawning light betray' d ? 
 A wretch, for food, for profit, or for praise, 
 Adown the void who ventures undismay'd, 
 In quest of samphire which the slope arrays. 
 Or eggs in crannies found and unfrequented ways, 
 
 1 ** Audley Court," three last lines. 
 
 2 •« The Earl of Gowrie," Act IV. scene 1. 
 
CANTO III. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Fond idler ! emblem of tlie world art thou, 
 A time-worn cable for thy bold to take ! 
 The life to come, the life thou sportest now, 
 All on the soundness of a thread to stake. 
 For fame or fashion or subsistence-sake ! 
 As though the cable would for ever hold ! 
 As though the thread of being could not break ! 
 The knell of folly day by day is toll'd 
 In vain — we dig our graves as in the times of old ! 
 
 XLY. 
 
 Te crags impending over the blue waves 
 Which, fathoms down, in seeming slumber lie 
 Unheard, or only heard when ocean raves 
 And roars, and tosses the wild wave on high, 
 To moan and murmur everlastingly. 
 In naked beauty how sublime ye stand 
 Out of the deep uplifted to the sky, 
 Te barrier-rocks betwixt the sea and land 
 To curb the headlong waters by Divine command ! 
 a 2 
 
84 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XLYI. 
 
 Over the promontoiy's glittering edge 
 To lean, and down the dizzy void to gaze, 
 Might awe e'en Danger on a narrow ledge 
 Thrown, looming huge out of the twilight haze ^ ! 
 To trace the current of the solar blaze, 
 Or in the glassy bay those pillars bright — 
 Or where yon brow a dazzling white displays — 
 The breadth and depth and overpowering height 
 To ponder — is to soar beyond the skybird's flight I 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 Who can define the thoughts that in us burn, 
 The wonder, yea the weight of such a scene 
 Upon the troubled heart ! Oh ! then to turn 
 Back, how delightftd, to the downy green 
 Of earth, to commune with the pure serene 1 
 To listen, pillow' d on the lap of June, 
 The dying murmur of the deep, I ween. 
 Or burden of the grasshopper, or tune 
 Of laverock from his plumes glancing the beams of noon ! 
 
 1 Danger 
 
 *' Throws him on the ridgy steep 
 Of some loose hanging rock to sleep." Collins' *' Ode to Fear." 
 
CANTO III. 85 
 
 XLTni. • 
 
 Be mine tlie quiet of the vale below 
 Embay' d in golden ligbt ! or then, when Eve 
 Doth into dreamy trance the spirit throw, 
 And all the depths a deeper shade receive, 
 And huger o'er the flood the mountains heave ; 
 When, on the wold or common overgrown 
 With furze, the coney doth her burrow leave 
 Eor food, unmindful of the fitful moan 
 Of water down the glen, or wind in hollow stone. 
 
 XLlX. 
 
 Above and under, imaged in the bay, 
 Grieam, twofold vision, variously imbued 
 With wavy colours as the tulip gay ; 
 Cliff perpendicular whose eagle-brood 
 Eends with a hungry bark the solitude ; 
 Arch, out of chaos and the deluge won, 
 Unworn by time, by tempest unsubdued, 
 Eemain, till earth's appointed course be run. 
 As monuments of Him who spake— and it was done ! 
 
THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 L. 
 
 Pictures of Power for meditation made, 
 Divinely painted as divinely plann'd 
 Ere light, in virgin purity array' d, 
 Eose up rejoicing over sea and land 
 Weigh' d in the hollow of the Maker's hand, 
 Te show the Good, the Beautiful, the Grreat ; 
 In Whom enrapt let Contemplation stand 
 Alone, and trampling every thought elate, 
 In homage bend before the Spirit Increate ! 
 
 LI. 
 
 Awed by th' Eternal Presence, dovm with pride 
 Down to the bottom of the deep below, 
 So deep, thou canst not hear the broken tide 
 Against the white rocks foaming to and fro. 
 Or when the waters ebb or overflow ! 
 Erom height so towering scarcely seems the wave 
 To curl, albeit a very whirlwind blow. 
 And her strain' d mast the plunging frigate lave. 
 And every yawning gulf appear a greedy grave. 
 
CANTO III. 67 
 
 LII. 
 
 O heavy burden ! wildly raving blast ! 
 And, hark ! a wilder mournfully replies, 
 Borne on the viewless pinions rushing past, 
 As on a quarry swooping down the skies ! 
 The seafowl mingle their complaining cries 
 Not inharmonious, though strange of sound ; 
 For Nature hath unnumber'd harmonies, 
 And oft the tuneful leave their heavenly round 
 To thunder on the deep, or bellow underground. 
 
 LIII. 
 
 Then, when the founded promontories rock, 
 And foam is on the lips so ghastly white, 
 The strong of pinion breast the stormy shock 
 With pain, or headlong o'er the quivering height 
 Reel, and far inland yield their ominous flight. 
 Over the boiling surge on either side 
 Lean, and look down into the hoary night ! 
 Rebuke the tempest, countermand the tide, 
 Bid Nature quail before the lofty look of pride ! 
 
88 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 LIT. 
 
 The storm is stubborn ! — choose a calmer hour 
 "When, as of wavy gold a molten mass, 
 The basking ocean owns the beamy power. 
 And each meridian point of bladed grass 
 Grieams, and Aonian voices as they pass 
 Over th' enamel'd Down, persuade to sleep ; 
 "While azure skies are seen as in a glass. 
 And brooding birds a double charge to keep 
 A hundred fathom down reflected in the deep. 
 
 LV. 
 
 How silent ! saving when a voice is heard 
 To boom below, or clang in upper air, 
 Eock unto rock replying, bird to bird, 
 Alone, or in a row, or pair by pair, 
 All happy, knowing neither want nor care ! 
 Stand on the perilous edge ! look down— and then 
 Yaunt if thou will, tread proudly if thou dare : 
 Away with folly ! be a child again, 
 And meekly Him adore Who reigneth over men ; 
 
CANTO III. 89 
 
 LVI. 
 
 To Whom be love and praise and adoration 
 For ever, gushing forth in one glad strain 
 Of harmony, one grateful acclamation ! 
 Father, whose bounty over hill and plain 
 Sheds in due season life-refreshing rain, 
 Revive the languid, lift the low desire 
 In one unmeet to join thy tuneful train ; 
 The lip unholy touch with altar-fire, 
 And with a breath divine the kindling bard inspire. 
 
THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 CANTO IV. 
 
CANTO IV. 
 
 Brow, that above the billows of unrest 
 Exalted, dost with Contemplation soar 
 Into the balmy region of the West, 
 Dwell in the mind ! that whether breakers roar 
 Against a craggy coast or sandy shore ; 
 While reefs enchain us, and about us lie 
 The shoals of danger, we may look the more 
 On, unappall'd, with clear and earnest eye 
 Beyond the Straits of Time and mortal misery. 
 
94 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 II. 
 
 'Mid cliaos unconcern' d, with orient liead 
 Above the caves of thunder, thou art seen, 
 White as the snows on Himalaya shed 
 Round Eeauty unapproachable, a queen 
 For ever, in sublimity serene ! 
 Could I but see the pure ethereal grace. 
 The purple glory and the golden sheen ! 
 Might I but feel the spirit of the place 
 Breathe on my brow and kiss the dew from off my face ! 
 
 m, 
 
 Fond dream and idle ! thought will ever climb 
 Imaginary mountains ; inly crave 
 To gaze on Indus and the source sublime 
 Of Ganges ! — Love will linger near the grave 
 Of the young warrior, gentle, good and brave, 
 Who rests where, living, he rejoiced to be 
 Among the mountains ! — Bitter seems the wave 
 On which we parted, barren now to me ! 
 Time wastes us! — who can stand before that hungry sea? — 
 
CANTO IV. 95 
 
 IT. 
 
 Pull many a hollow have the waters worn, 
 Though ribb'd with adamant, in earth's steep side, 
 Por very fretfulness, or headlong borne 
 By the wing'd air, or by the rapid tide 
 For ever gnawing ! never satisfied ! 
 In subterranean recesses deep ^ 
 And vast some brood of monstrous birth may hide : 
 Where smooth ones coil them round, or scaly creep, 
 The serpent of the sea might roll — the kraken sleep. 
 
 Y. 
 
 Sleep on, wide-stranded on a desolate rock 
 Of lamentation, while the deeps resound 
 "With endless hubbub, shock succeeding shock. 
 Till the vault quivers to the loud rebound, 
 And white-hair' d Terror trembles underground. 
 Coeval with the birth of wonder, vie 
 The depth and height, the silence and the sound. 
 The cliff communion holding with the sky. 
 The dungeon uttering groan for groan and sigh for sigh. 
 
 ' Between the Needle-Rocks and Freshwater-Gate are eleven caves, from 
 ninety to three hundred feet deep. 
 
96 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 TI. 
 
 East of that Headland by the mellow beam 
 Touch' d, where the slopes descending by degrees 
 Merge in a narrow vale, a springing stream 
 Euns to the north, as though to link the seas, 
 Its fountain ruffled by the spooming breeze 
 When on the stony bar the breakers roar ! 
 Hard by, the sons of ocean loll at ease. 
 Or wander, glass in hand, the guarded shore : 
 Boats lie above the surf, old nets, and osier-store. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Eipples in amber light the flooded bay 
 Betwixt High Down and Af ton's starry sheen, 
 Eound the twin-rocks, time-worn, or rent away 
 From earth by torrents rushing in between ; 
 One tall and tapering, with tuft of green 
 Torn from the cliff; one straddling o'er the wave 
 Tumultuous, where it breaks the blue serene : 
 So stood the giant, thus did ocean rave 
 Ere shape to molten brass colossal Chares gave I 
 
CANTO IV. 97 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Mirror'd in Compton Bay the mountain gleams ! 
 Not deeper, under that Ionian wave 
 Which glasses pale Leucadia, lie the dreams 
 Of Love and Beauty ! — Genius could not save 
 The laurell'd brow from an untimely grave. 
 Daughter of song, of passion, and of pride, 
 Thy fate revolving, humbly would I crave 
 One boon of Heaven — whatever ill betide, 
 Strength to withstand the blow, and patience to abide ! 
 
 IX. 
 
 All have their trials ! — sweat and tears and blood 
 WiU flow amain, till Love renew the land 
 Cheer' d by the beam and freshen' d by the flood. 
 Whose waters, by the breath of freedom fann'd. 
 Shall health and plenty waft from strand to strand. 
 Ye rocks, with wildness hung, long-maned, or bare 
 As sea beasts basking on the sunny sand, 
 E/clent, and slumber in the summer air. 
 No more with horror ridged, nor treacherously fair ! 
 
 H 
 
98 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 The stone of Meeting rear'd by pagan hands, 
 Had it a tongue, a fearful tale could tell 
 Of wreck and outrage. Yet, while tempest strands 
 The ship, or drift or darkness, smoothly sweU 
 The pastoral hilLs round many a dewy deU, 
 And spired hamlet gleaming through the trees ! 
 In such recesses would the Eauni dwell 
 Of old, in such the fabled Dryades, 
 Tripping it o'er the turf, or sunk in silvan ease. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Tinted by Time, the solitary Stone 
 On the green hill of Mote, each storm withstood, 
 G-rows dim, with hairy lichen overgrown. 
 Thither, convened from combe and wold and wood. 
 The people throng' d to plan the general good ; 
 There, incantation dire and riddle dark 
 O' era wed a superstitious brotherhood : 
 Still rears Idolatry some false sea-mark 
 Into the gulf of death to draw the wandering bark ! 
 
CANTO IV. 
 
 Primeval seem these stones, pillars of Time, 
 Ere Corinseus o'er the rolling main 
 Lighted on Albion, of brow sublime 
 And hoary, yet bedimm'd with cloudy pain ! 
 Eor then did evil, dragon-crested, reign 
 Eemorseless, robbers laying waste the land, 
 Huger than Anak and the brood of Cain ! 
 Ye who the Eunic symbols understand 
 Unfold the mythic tale, reveal the bloody hand ! 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Of Gog and Magog towering over men. 
 Of Merlin and Pendragon who may know ? 
 How fared the native of the Druid-glen 
 Who drove the sacred herd, a drift of snow ? 
 How, the wild hunter arm'd with spear and bow. 
 Whose wolf-skin vesture children still admire ? 
 Their dreams were haunted by a crimson woe ! 
 The white-stoled priest and sacrificial fire 
 Uprose ; and human blood hiss'd on the funeral pyre ! 
 H 2 
 
100 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XIY. 
 
 1^0 flocks, as now, did whiten yonder hill : 
 The red-eyed Urus pierced the shaggy screen 
 O'er rifted Brooke, and Shorwell's limpid rill. 
 And that irriguous valley midway seen : 
 The sacred bull the shadowy boughs between 
 G-leam'd on the Cimri by the southern shore ! 
 No purple clover deck'd the meadow green, 
 Nor yellow corn waved the blue waters o'er, 
 Nor village spire look'd up as praying evermore I 
 
 XT. 
 
 The painted Briton, when he gazed around 
 Where now the Saxon folds his fleecy care, 
 Enjoy'd he, ranging over heathy ground 
 To fan the cheek and ripple through the hair, 
 The healthful spirit of the winnowing air ? 
 Breathed he, communing with the calm above, 
 A breathing of unutterable prayer ? 
 Did no fond reverie of joy and love 
 Come from the leafy covert of the brooding dove ? 
 
CANTO IV. 101 
 
 XVI. 
 
 When Slumber, rolling off the dewy globe, 
 Eose with the mist and melted in the sun, 
 Saw he boon Nature doff her dusky robe 
 And put on light ; and, life anew begun, 
 Glide under water, o'er the meadow run. 
 Pipe on the bough, and gambol in the beam ? 
 Or, in the glow that o'er the gloaming dun 
 Eippled, where sea and sky to mingle seem, 
 Caught he of brighter worlds a momentary gleam ? 
 
 XVII. 
 
 For him did laverock o'er the mountain bare 
 Quaver and quaver, higher up and higher, 
 A tremulous star in the cerulean air ? 
 For him, the turtle over her desire 
 Brood, and the robin warble in the briar ? 
 Did they whose coming e'en the wretched hail, 
 In savage bosom vernal hope inspire, 
 The cuckoo vocal over hill and dale. 
 The swallow streaming by the bowered nightingale ? 
 
102 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 Did then enchantment o'er the curtain'd night 
 Hang, when the rivulet, unheard by day, 
 Grurgled and gamboll'd in the lunar light ? — 
 The world hath young barbarians still at play, 
 And old, who blind to the meridian ray, 
 Lie on the downy turf or travel o'er. 
 And not a twinkle see ; nor hear the lay 
 Of lark, nor hum of bee ; nor heed the roar 
 Of cataracts down dash'd on thunder's billowy shore ! 
 
 XIX. 
 
 So rolls the gleamy thunder where the view 
 Is bounded by yon promontory bare, 
 Of savage aspect and of sombrous hue, 
 O'er Chale, far down ingulph'd, looming in air, 
 Blackgange ! whose sullen heart fierce tempests tear ! 
 Veins as of firestone, cunningly inlaid, 
 Eun through the brinded cliif, layer over layer : 
 So bars of sunshine cross a dungeon-shade ! 
 So in the vault of death is masonry display' d ! 
 
CANTO IV. 103 
 
 XX. 
 
 A rill of sparkles 'mid the blackness seen, 
 Eright as when moonbeams on the water glide, 
 Shimmers, star-woven, o'er the deep ravine, 
 "Whose jaws infernal, wider and more wide 
 Opening, devour the tempest and the tide. 
 As in a cauldron, then the billows boil, 
 And writhe voluminous, and chidden, chide ! 
 Shot up aloft, or in a snaky coil 
 EoU'd up the slippery round with unavailing toil. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Down from the crags of Gore's storm-wasted steep 
 The peregrine falcon swoops on rapid wing ; 
 Kow, in the blue air o'er the bluer deep 
 Poized, like a cloud ere winds the deluge bring, 
 Keen as the dart of death, hangs quivering ! — 
 E-ent are the rocks, the mountains overthrown 
 By many a subtle undermining spring ! 
 Surf wreathes the laughing ocean ^Teck-bestrown, 
 Sweeps o'er the whiten' d edge, and whelms the yawning 
 stone. 
 
104 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 The sands swim round ! the promontory reels ! 
 Back from the brink, and rest the stagger' d eye 
 On the green mound, whose western slope reveals 
 A landscape tranquil as the deep-blue sky, 
 Of hill and dale a rich variety, 
 Down over down, vale windiQg into vale, 
 Where peaceful villages imbosom'd lie. 
 And halls manorial, from green-swarded Chale 
 To Brixton's fruitful glebe, and Brooke's delicious dale ! 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Sunburnt, or frosted o'er with dewy rime, 
 Points heavenward, Catharine, thy beacon-tower ! 
 Part of a chapel, built in olden time 
 To light the mariner when tempests lour. 
 And hungry waters would the main devour ! 
 "While love and piety their native land 
 Gruard, and men own a Providential Power, 
 Let Him be magnified, at whose command 
 The hurricane is hush'd ! the tumbling billows stand ! 
 
CANTO IV. 105 
 
 XXIT. 
 
 Walter de Grodyton ! a bleak abode 
 Thou buildest for the watcher o'er the deep ! 
 The wandering hermit on a doubtful road, 
 Might hear the crags of windy Chaos leap 
 In wild commotion down from steep to steep ! 
 The knee of piety would nightly bend 
 Eor those who watch, at sea, and those who sleep ; 
 For him who dared on one good star depend 
 Hung o'er thy mane of light, fierce race of Eocken-End ! 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Par out the breakers run : with bended head 
 Be mine to listen, on the turf reclined. 
 The surge, and see the pigmy people spread 
 Their nets to whiten in the sun and wind. 
 By the blue waters rolling unconfined 
 Along the yellow beach ! "Who would not bow 
 Before the Maker of the thoughtful mind. 
 And feel it good and full of comfort, now 
 To be alone with Grod upon the mountain-brow ! 
 
106 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 North of the beacon, down a narrow dell 
 Of shade with golden sunshine interlaced, 
 Contentment loveth with her own to dwell, 
 Beneath a roof of russet, sweetly graced 
 With rose and myrtle picturesquely placed. 
 A grey old temple pointing to the sky 
 To raise the feeling, checks the foot of haste : 
 Eipe fields and peaceful under JN'orthcourt lie, 
 And quiet are the woods of hoar Antiquity. 
 
 As Ariel lighting on a charmed road 
 Star-paved, so nimbly streams the river-dew, 
 Clear as the brow of Truth, a bright abode 
 Of joy and beauty like those eyes of blue 
 Whose long dark lashes lend a varying hue ! — 
 The pilgrim, where the radiant children play. 
 Pauses to breathe that heavenly word — Adieu ! 
 Ere to the north he take his pensive way 
 To yon grey wreck of Power slow crumbling to decay ! 
 
CANTO IV. 107 
 
 Imperial fortress founded on a rock ! 
 Clothed as thou art in gay perennial green, 
 Thou feedest one more fell than battle-shock, 
 One that has eaten and wiU. eat, I ween, 
 Into the very heart of what has been, 
 Or is, or shall be ! — Many a martial train 
 Thy walls have echoed, many a banner seen 
 Unfurl' d, since Eoman dark and red-hair' d Dane 
 Eose on the tide of time, to ravage or to reign. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Who rear'd the pile (of those usurping Powers), 
 The donjon rooted deep, and raised the mound, 
 And walls and bastions flank' d by rounded towers, 
 And gates of oak, stone-arch' d, with iron bound ; 
 Who pierced the rock and gave the well profound 
 To gush, and, startled by the plunging stone. 
 To bellow through the cavern and rebound, 
 "Wave over wave of darkness making moan — 
 Thei/ reck not how or why their graves are overgrown. 
 
108 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 Peace to their ashes ! many a noble one 
 May in yon Hold have yielded up the ghost, 
 "With all that wisdom wrought or valour won, 
 Quench' d the brave heart that fired the banded host ! 
 The voice oracular dumb from coast to coast ! 
 With high endeavour to perform their part 
 They lived and died : walk humbly, ye who boast 
 Superior science, more consummate art, 
 A nobler nature : "we have all one human heart ^ !" 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 To woe devoted from our very birth. 
 Conceived in sorrow, usher' d into pain, 
 The soaring spirit limed and clogg'd with earth, 
 Like womb did bear us, and like breast sustain ; 
 Like lips and arms invited not in vain 
 Our feet to totter, and our baby-tongue 
 To lisp the Grod of Abel and of Cain ; 
 To hymn Whom angels and archangels sung. 
 Who on the torturing tree for our redemption hung. 
 
 1 '• We have all of us one human heart."— The Old Cumberland Beggar. 
 
CANTO IV. 109 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Peace to the dead ! and to the living peace ! 
 O word of power to conjure up a king ! 
 To wake a voice imploring war to cease ! 
 The voice of Ealkland ! — "Where to ruin cling 
 Bramble and ivy waved of airy wing, 
 The monarch of a dungeon lay alone, 
 Listening of birds the cheerful caroling. 
 Or burden of the wind thro' crannied stone 
 And iron grating heard — a melancholy moan ! 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 The dying melody — ^the muffled roll 
 Of the night-wind — the night-bird's solemn song — 
 Awake an echo in the pensive soul 
 With woe acquainted, unto which belong 
 The recollections rising out of wrong 
 Or done or suffer' d. He who lay confined 
 The tyrannous towers of hoary Eld among, 
 Prepared to leave a fickle world behind, 
 Vain hopes and hollow words bequeathing to the wind. 
 
no THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Wild as a wave, his beard in silver stream' d — 
 His long thin locks dishevell'd hung in air : 
 With many winters he familiar seem'd, 
 But few had number' d ; such a spell hath care 
 The cheek to channel, and to change the hair ! 
 Yet, as a sunbeam, thro' the stony shade 
 Of some deep dungeon, strikes the chain' d Despair, 
 Showing a light for inner darkness made. 
 So on the king came down a ray of heavenly aid ! 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Could vernal beauty draw the wandering eye. 
 Or vernal melody the wandering ear 
 Back from the wilful waste of Memory, 
 Then might a region blithe, and warbling clear 
 Of love and liberty the captive cheer — 
 Dominion worthy of a monarch's choice ! 
 Enjoy it thou, if Nature still be dear ; 
 If tears and groanings have not drown' d her voice, 
 Nor dull' da heart could move the desert to rejoice ! 
 
CANTO IV. Ill 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Who but a drudge in the golden mine of Care, 
 Or feeding on the husk of what has been, 
 E-emorseful Memory or blank Despair, 
 Could view with apathy or sullen spleen 
 So boon a prospect simple and serene ? 
 The pastoral slopes in noonday quiet sleep — 
 Grreen lanes run down into the valley green, 
 Or climb, 'mid gleamy brooks, a bosky steep — 
 Towers over hill and dale the castle's haughty keep ! 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 "Who would not fain explore the leafy nook, 
 Or on the brink of pebbled waters lie 
 Thy blue-vein' d feet imbathing, Carisbrooke, 
 Then in the ripple when the trout's quick eye 
 Twinkles, up-darted on the mealy fly ? 
 What if below the fretful water-mill 
 Foam crest the rapid ; in the calm on high 
 Above the grey church-tower and Hmpid rill. 
 Broods over life and death a spirit pure and still ! 
 
112 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XXXYIII. 
 
 From Caer eastward have I traced tliy stream, 
 Light-paven Lukely, all the flowery way 
 With silver threading, where the vallies teem 
 With herbage fresh as dew, or fragrant hay 
 New-mown, in which the plunging children play, 
 Of those unmindful, in their frolic glee, 
 Who bear the heat and burden of the day ; 
 Of him, below the pensive willow tree 
 And ruin'd abbey, plunged in mournful reverie ! 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 A breadth of light, a rippling overflow 
 Of joy, Medina, brimming flood, is thine ! 
 Whether recumbent in the noontide glow ; 
 Or between meadows dotted o'er with kine 
 And horses, free to ramble or recline. 
 Thy course pursuing with a quiet glide ! 
 But, lo ! on either bank, a vapoury line 
 Of human habitations ! Time and tide 
 Are freighted each with care ! bliss may not here abide ! 
 
CANTO IV. 113 
 
 Set in the midst of our meridian Isle, 
 By wandering heatlis and pensive woods embraced, 
 With dewy meads, and downs of open smile, 
 And winding waters, naturally graced, 
 The rural capital is meetly placed. 
 Newport, so long as to the blue-eyed deep 
 Thy river by its gleamy wings is traced, 
 Be thine thy portion unimpair'd to keep ! 
 In hope to timely sow ! in joy to duly reap ! 
 
 XLI. 
 
 And you, remote from war and tumult, pray 
 For one harmonious heart, with those fair three. 
 Faith, Hope, and Charity, to dwell for aye, 
 Devoutly loyal, rationally free. 
 For conscience " subject to the powers that be ;" 
 And while the royal keep and walls remain 
 To check the roving eye of wanton glee. 
 Walk humbly, mindful of the troubled reign 
 Of an unbounded will — the danger and the pain ! 
 
 1 
 
114 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 From the dread height of blind ambition hurl'd, 
 Disrobed of royalty, of splendour shorn, 
 And all-abandon' d by a weary world ; 
 With daily thought and nightly vigil worn, 
 From love's deep anchorage untimely torn, 
 Eobb'd of his children, sever' d from his queen, 
 The blood of the devoted left to mourn ; 
 Whelm' d under woe the conscious prince had been 
 But for that arm of might on which the wretched lean. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 He died ! a nation reel'd beneath the blow ! 
 Nor had the nobles of the land consented, 
 Nor commons been convened to thunder — No ! 
 The patriot, moved by natural ruth, relented ; 
 The stern fanatic only not repented. 
 Against oppression when the poor conspire. 
 And restless spirits rouse the discontented, 
 The flame who kindled cannot quench the fire ! 
 These in the ruin sink, those tremble and retire. 
 
CANTO IV. 115 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Anon one bolder vaultetli into power, 
 Stung by the busy demon of the breast, 
 The passion paramount in evil hour. 
 Of sweep more ample and of haughtier crest, 
 Like Aaron's serpent swallowing up the rest. 
 Ambition, craving ever to be lord 
 Over thy brethren, what is power possessed ? 
 What of high-climbing labour the reward ? — 
 Lip-homage! heart-reproach! pre-eminence abhorr'd ! 
 
 XLV. 
 
 Poor riches ! joyless pleasures ! evil fame ! 
 'For you, is ill-exchanged the spirit clear 
 And calm ; each hallow' d, each exalted aim ! 
 Did pride and glory feel the royal tear 
 Prophetic drop on Strafford's bloody bier ? 
 Strafford ! who thought to govern humankind 
 With whips and scorpions and the rack of fear ! 
 Who, dying left a tainted name behind. 
 So long as truth and justice sway the thoughtftd mind ! 
 I 2 
 
116 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 Of lordly will and democratic rage 
 Victim alike, the Stuart ceased to reign : 
 How fared the ruler of a later age ? — 
 The right divine of monarchs to maintain, 
 Charles pleaded, threaten' d, fought and bled — in vain ! 
 The Bourbon yielded his anointed head 
 To roll in dust : ahke their portion — pain, 
 Captivity, dethronement, death : they bled ! 
 And sterner tyrants rose till nations wept the dead ! 
 
THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 CANTO V. 
 
 THE UNDERCLIFF. 
 
CANTO V. 
 
 I. 
 
 The tyrannous waters lick tliy feet, fair Isle, 
 Most fair, Dunnose and billowy Chale between : 
 On shapes of beauty Morning hastes to smile, 
 And sunset loves to linger — ^how serene 
 In the deep hyaline and heavenly sheen 1 
 If here an ocean-cliff its rifted side 
 Yield to the flood, there winds a valley green 
 Hock-bound, in which hoar "Winter may not ride 
 At will, nor early come, nor many days abide. 
 
120 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 II. 
 
 Wild midulation ! ever- varying land 
 From the wide water to the crags on high, 
 That, old and grey and weatherbeaten, stand 
 A wall of rock against the rushing sky. 
 The dew of blessing on thy bosom lie ! 
 Pure j9.ow as now thy fountains, with a sound 
 Of purling like a brook to ripple by ! 
 Or headlong brawling over broken ground, 
 Down to the murmuring main to plunge at one mad 
 bound ! 
 
 III. 
 
 Through leafy glen, and unfrequented wild, 
 And cleft precipitous of ghastly hue. 
 As under Petra ponderously piled 
 Chafe the quick waters, these their course pursue, 
 White-maned as they that curl the breezy blue. 
 A steely fountain by the bitter shore. 
 Beneath yon cottage hidden from the view, 
 Springs the low heart and languid to restore. 
 Whose sources only He who made them can explore. 
 
CANTO V. 121 
 
 IV. 
 
 The region softens ! — Now, in hollow way, 
 Behind a grassy mound or stony screen. 
 Let the young ash her airy grace display, 
 While rumination over herbage green 
 Stands on the thymy peaks, or basks between ! 
 On Eocken-End though tides tumultuous run, 
 Earth, air, and ocean have a look serene : 
 The chough her plumage glosses in the sun. 
 And linnets on the wold to warble have begun. 
 
 V. 
 
 Anon a carol from the maple-grove 
 Wakes other notes on heavenly wings to rise : 
 A bird of calm is floating o'er the Cove 
 Beyond the Light-House, where the water lies 
 Eapt in oblivion save of summer skies. 
 'Mid glassy stHlaess, boats, and amber beach. 
 And rocks, deep-imaged, draw admiring eyes : 
 In vain did he, the royal exile, reach 
 That haven, whom nor storm, nor calm, nor time could 
 teach ^! 
 
 1 Charles II., who landed at Puckaster Cove, in 1675. 
 
122 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 YI. 
 
 Be readier thou to reap fbe golden hour, 
 Griad to have left an angry world behind ! 
 Yet, in the quietude of rural bower 
 With balm and beauty lovingly intwined, 
 Think on the common lot of humankind ! 
 How care and pain and memory, dim-eyed, 
 "Will bow alike the body and the mind, 
 And overcast our life, whose smoothest glide 
 But flows in silence down to swell the sable tide ! 
 
 YII. 
 
 Erom vantage-points, in that aerial range 
 Of rugged wilderness and rampart gray. 
 Are dawnings of a vision wild and strange, 
 A new creation out of old decay 
 In sweet confusion ! beauteous disarray ! 
 The which imbathing, over wreathed rocks 
 Clouds as of incense climb the wondrous way. 
 To wash the fleeces of the skyey flocks, 
 Or fill with honey dew the woodbine's yellow locks. 
 
CANTO V. 123 
 
 YIII. 
 
 Euffling the water, like yon winged skiff, 
 The seaborn vapours take their silent flight 
 Up, over craggy gulf, and peaked cliff. 
 And rounded hUl, on whose sky-woven height 
 They brood with humid wings : — ^below them, bright 
 Of hue, of all the sunny south embraced. 
 Are lawns and dales and arbours of delight, 
 Eich in aroma, sweetly interlaced 
 With flowering overgrowth, of elfin beauty graced. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Nor hearth is wanting, nor domestic roof 
 By rocks defended from the sweepy west, 
 Tree-propp'd, each trunk entwined with ivy woof, 
 In which the wren might hang her downy nest. 
 Nor feel a flutter in her brooding breast. 
 Here, wrinkled scar and broken coast between. 
 Smooth slopes invite the wandering eye to rest ; 
 There, leaves and flowers a thick umbrageous screen 
 Weave over garden-walk and winding alley green. 
 
124 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 X. 
 
 Who roam the barren deep, enchanted, hail 
 G-rove, glade, and orchard, rich in fruitful store, 
 Too soon abandon' d by the flying sail ! 
 Scenes, which the passing eye would fain explore, 
 Pictures for Memory to ponder o'er ! 
 As light obliquely trickles through a gloom 
 Of boughs, so streams yon runnel to the shore 
 Through tremulous reeds when ocean-breezes spoom 
 Or where on blocks of rag the moonstruck waters boom. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Tor glimpses of a region ever new 
 They yearn who climb the long Atlantic way : 
 Better to climb the turfy knoll, and view 
 With me the piny depth, or light array 
 Of banner' d ashes on the mountain gray. 
 Ledge over ledge, and rock on rock up-piled 
 To the smooth summit, in the milder day, 
 Bathed in cerulean air, to grow more mild. 
 As Beauty, born of heaven, were native to the wild ! 
 
CANTO V. 125 
 
 XII. 
 
 Breatldng of Eden, slie will roam awliile 
 The land rejoicing : hence, the flowery vale 
 Before you ! hence the crystal's orient smile ! 
 The freshness wafted over hill and dale. 
 The merry chirp of joy and tuneful tale ! 
 And here, her daughters in the dewy glade 
 "Will listen to the plaintive nightingale ; 
 Or trace, with moss mosaical inlaid. 
 The pebbled brooks that thread the sunshine and the 
 shade. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 So might of old the lady of the rill. 
 Athwart a grotto picturesquely thrown, 
 Lean on her urn, and listen to the trill 
 Of liquid melody from stone to stone 
 Till lost in pools with lotus overgrown. 
 So, on the flowers of Hermel's terraced height. 
 From whose deep roots Orontes bursts, alone 
 In brightness, and in swiftness, and in might. 
 The mountain-nymph would dwell in wonder and delight. 
 
126 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XIT. 
 
 For bright Orontes, as in silver roll'd 
 Througli fields most fertile under Syrian sky, 
 The wavy girdle of the globe behold ; 
 And here are golden apples, hung on high. 
 Might need the wakeful unenchanted eye 
 Of dragon or of nymph ; such broods descend 
 On juicy pulp to dine deliciously. 
 To quaff ripe nectar, ere Aurora bend 
 Her dewy eye of light where fruitful boughs impend. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Hither repair for ruby-tinted fruit, 
 Or, it may be, by genial impulse stirr'd. 
 Birds "musical as is Apollo's lute," 
 Throstle and merle, and that melodious bird 
 The black-cap, he whose foreign pipe is heard 
 In varied modulation, deep and clear 
 And mellow, warbling many a dulcet word 
 Of love and joy, the brooding bird to cheer, 
 To touch the feeling heart and finely-organ'd ear. 
 
CANTO V. 127 
 
 Timid, not caring curious eye to brook, 
 They build where few may find them or molest, 
 On a lone wild, or in a leafy nook, 
 Tor ever fluttering with fond unrest 
 About the callow brood and nuptial nest. 
 Their young ones fledged, they fly from brake and lane, 
 Together with the bird of silvery breast ', 
 To where lush berries redden ; thence to drain 
 The life-blood, glad at heart, with inly-gurgling strain. 
 
 XYII. 
 
 Enjoy the banquet, for ye think no wrong, 
 Ambrosian food, and nectar running o'er. 
 Then sing an anthem to the soul of Song, 
 To Him Who tunes the throat, and spreads the store. 
 And speeds the wanderer from shore to shore ! 
 Lift up your voices ! Thou, inspire their lays, 
 Breath of our nostrils ! Whom let aU adore, 
 To lift our eyelids or our heart to raise. 
 Unworthy though we be — to muse or utter praise ! 
 
 1 The white-throat— a summer visitor. 
 
128 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XYIII. 
 
 "While they extol the founder of the feast 
 In strains harmonious, once in Eden known, 
 Saint Lawrence raises to the luminous East 
 A starry cross of consecrated stone ; 
 And, lo ! an arch with ivy overgrown 
 On which wiU linger the departing beam ! 
 Let rapt Imagination make her own 
 The lights and shadows over grove and stream 
 And promontory pour'd, the vision of a dream ! 
 
 Of Jiim imagined, whose ideal eye 
 Travels a region veil'd from sensual sight ; 
 Of him, whose pencil peoples vacancy 
 "With shapes and hues of Nature heavenly bright, 
 In all the colours of the rainbow dight. 
 As Mount Olympus and Mount Ossa bound 
 That old Egean valley of deHght, 
 Eor health and wealth and melody renown' d, 
 So stand our ocean-cHffs a richer Tempe round. 
 
CANTO V. 129 
 
 XX. 
 
 Strange sweetness, wafted o'er the briny way 
 From isles of balm, the linked hills enclose : 
 O'er russet roof and walls of stony grey 
 The native woodbine honied tendrils throws, 
 And either jasmine, white or yellow, blows : 
 The myrtle, odorous of leaf and flower, 
 Queen of the garden while the Dog-star glows, 
 And lush geranium, child of sun and shower, 
 As in Madeira, build an aromatic bower. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Perennial roses flush the sunny side : 
 Tints, as of autumn, win the youthful eye 
 Too fondly dallying with grief untried ! 
 So sweet it seems, for very change, to sigh, 
 Counting the dewy beads of memory !" 
 The vernal pansy will in shade recline. 
 Most pensive seeming under brightest sky ; 
 A tinge prophetic streak the leafy vine 
 Ere gush the living rock in a rill of golden wine. 
 
 K 
 
130 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Not only fruits and flowers, and limpid health, 
 Tripping how lightly through the cave of sound, 
 These rocks environ : we have other wealth 
 IN'ot in rich Enna nor in Tempe found, 
 Nor on Arcadia's pastoral hills oak-crown' d : 
 Eor what are flocks and herds and mountains green 
 Compared with Preedom, on her native ground 
 In uninvaded majesty serene. 
 Lifting her starry brow benighted worlds between ! 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Sere Law and Liberty bear equal rule : 
 The castle on the steep hath no grim door 
 To shut out hope for ever ; no deep pool 
 Of sable mystery ; nor donjon-floor 
 With horror paved, to pine and madden o'er ; 
 Nor apparition of incarnate pain 
 Unpitied, wasting ever more and more ! 
 Eor each contortion of that iron chain 
 Of old despotic will, a golden link we gain ! 
 
CANTO V. 131 
 
 XXIY. 
 
 Ere those wHte turrets o'er the terrace rose 
 Peace reign' d, and Joy would clamber, not alone, 
 To where the virgin born of April blows, 
 Gruided of one who from a child had known 
 Of balmy Nature every tint and tone. 
 If mortal touch have made the vernal hour 
 A pensive feehng ; yet, revolving, own 
 The sweet seclusion of the bloomy bower. 
 The carol of the bird, the breathing of the flower. 
 
 XXY. 
 
 Before you, fenced from each ungenial wind 
 By lofty barriers, — by the beetling head 
 In front, and by the craggy ridge behind, — 
 Are lawns of light, 'twixt foliage darkly spread 
 Up to the mounded green, on which is shed 
 An amber hue : swart phantoms come and go. 
 Shadows of fleecy whiteness, whither fled ! 
 Blithe fountains bubble up, and overflow 
 To cool the languid air, and fresh the fields below. 
 K 2 
 
132 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 LuU'd by tlie murmur of ttie liquid fall, 
 Let Contemplation from her hermit cave, 
 Worn how we know not through the rocky wall, 
 Look on the marbled waters, where they lave 
 The beach, and give the glossy weed to wave 
 A laughing ringlet on the cheek of mirth ! 
 But touch them, rushing angel, how they rave, 
 And rise, like rebels of gigantic birth, 
 To scale the thundering heaven, and shake the deluged 
 earth ! 
 
 xxvii. 
 
 This air Ionian breathing very balm. 
 And the wave onward borne without a breeze, 
 More take the mind, in their cerulean calm, 
 Than the white anger of tormented seas 
 Broke on remorseless Kilda's stony knees ! 
 From hawthorn-den, or aromatic grove, 
 I love, white-gleaming through the dark elm-trees. 
 To see the sails drop down and cease to rove : 
 So rides a folded swan at anchor in the cove ! 
 
CANTO V. 133 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Like as a seamew skims tlie liquid way, 
 Dipping her pennon in tlie dark-blue wave, 
 The shallop yonder crisps the smooth Mill-bay, 
 Seeming almost the bearded rocks to shave, 
 Gloomy and grim and silent as the grave ! 
 Now, on the margin of the yellow sand 
 Which with a dulcet sound the ripples lave, 
 Her keel strikes, grating o'er the pebbled strand 
 Harsh music, sweet to those who leap upon the land ! 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Yet may you read in each bewilder' d look. 
 Of change at work within us and around : 
 They hear the brawling of the Yentnor brook, 
 And see the torrent with a pulse of sound 
 Swoop from the crag, and vanish underground : 
 Light still is trembHng on the ferny crest ! 
 The E-oman rock in its own place is found ! 
 Jagg over jagg the region east and west 
 Trends, and the downy slopes are steep' d in azure rest ! 
 
134 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 The rural inn, beneatli a bosky height, 
 In a warm corner nestles as of old ; 
 But they are gone, the brimming bath of light, 
 And the waved emerald so smoothly roll'd, 
 And the lone shepherd and the fleecy fold ! 
 Another age, the golden, had begun : 
 The glebe was broken up, and more than gold 
 Found in the digging ! life and health were won, 
 As spire and mansion rose rejoicing in the sun ! 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Eull many a bower of refuge here and there 
 Dwells in the windings of the sunny shore, 
 Whither, the bland and uninfected air 
 To breathe, unshaken by the stormy blore. 
 The sick, if haply Nature may restore 
 Whom Art despairs of, come — to live or die 
 As dooms the Chastener ! Whom let each adore 
 In sickness as in health, without a sigh 
 Eenouncing all the world of pomp and vanity ! 
 
CANTO V. 135 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Te young in years, and undefiled in heart, 
 Who love your Maker, and his word believe. 
 And do his bidding, fear not to depart 
 Divinely summon' d : wherefore should ye grieve 
 To break the yoke of bondage, and to leave 
 Sorrow and pain behind ? — to live, is loss 1 
 To die, is gain ! if unto Him ye cleave 
 Who wore the crown of thorns, and bare the Cross, 
 Eefiner of the soul from all its earthy dross ! 
 
 To love and beauty though ye bid adieu. 
 To vernal hope and joy ; although the bloom 
 And breath of a creation ever new 
 Come not to cheer the lonely narrow room ! 
 Though human voices may not touch the tomb ! 
 To sweeter music shall the soul arise. 
 From trance awaken' d by the trump of doom. 
 To fields more fragrant under brighter skies 
 Than ever folded earth, or breathed of Paradise. 
 
136 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XXXIY. 
 
 For those sublimer mysteries, unreveard. 
 With joy ineffable and glory fraught, 
 Now, for the trial of our faith, conceal' d. 
 Prepared for beings whom the Lord hath bought. 
 Beatitude beyond the reach of thought — 
 Eye hath not seen, nor ear of mortal heard, 
 iN'or into heart hath entered, we are taught, 
 The bliss in store for such as love the Word 
 Of that Eternal Truth from which the soul hath err'd. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Dread not to die, then, ye who fain would keep 
 The will obedient and the bosom clean : 
 To leave the tearful valley do not weep. 
 Where lengthening shadows overcast the scene 
 However glowing, or however green ; 
 And toil-drops trickle down the brow of care ; 
 And sudden tempests ruffle the serene : 
 Where grief and pain, and evil's conscious heir. 
 But for the pitying heaven would sink into despair. 
 
CANTO V. 137 
 
 XXXYI. 
 
 In Heaven who find a haven, o'er the waste 
 Of troubled waters shall undaunted look, 
 Of Love paternal evermore embraced. 
 However tried and humbled, ne'er forsook ! 
 Joy ye, whose names are written in the Book 
 Of Life, whose foreheads bear the sacred seal ; 
 Arm'd from Above, the brunt of evil brook ; 
 Unmoved, though earth, jarr'd from her axle, reel; 
 Content if tribulation work your final weal ! 
 
 XXXYII. 
 
 Thou, of the hectic cheek, and glistening eye 
 Upraised in adoration, beaming praise, 
 If now and then a not unnatural sigh 
 Heave, at the thought of early number' d days, 
 Prom time and change thy contemplation raise 
 To the pure Spirit, whose word in order due 
 Array'd the starry host, and still arrays ; 
 Whose presence overfiows th' ethereal blue, 
 And earth and ocean soon to vanish from thy view. 
 
138 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 Who placed the Tree of Life amid the grove, 
 "With gliding beauty spangles pool and stream, 
 Grives the wild herd o'er hiU. and dale to rove. 
 The plumy people gorgeously to gleam, 
 To carol oU the bough and in the beam : 
 Hail ! breathing pictures, happily design' d 
 To rouse the worldling from a fitful dream ! 
 To cheer and calm and purify the mind. 
 From sordid aims and low exalted and refined ! 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 If the green turf on which we daily tread 
 Be wove divinely, gemm'd with heavenly rays ; 
 If sea and sky immeasurably spread 
 Be a true mirror, an unclouded blaze 
 Of Love and Beauty ; be it thine to raise 
 The thought, more teeming than the populous deep. 
 More nimble than the light, in duteous praise ! 
 Young heiress of the vast hereafter, keep 
 The narrow way, unblamed, to where the sainted sleep ! 
 
CANTO V. 139 
 
 XL. 
 
 In mortal anguisli, under sudden shock, 
 Cling, like a tendril of the loving vine, 
 To Truth Eternal, to the Living Eock ; 
 And more and more on that large heart recline 
 "Which beat for thee and me in Palestine 1 
 When next the May and lily-flower unfold 
 Their virgin sweetness, it may not be thine 
 To meet them in the vale, or on the wold. 
 Or where the rich laburnum hangs her chains of gold : 
 
 XLT. 
 
 Not in Arabia, nor in Indian isle, 
 Again may Fancy on a sunny shore. 
 Fable of balm the wounded to beguile ! 
 Yet myrrh and cassia will the dreamer store 
 With odorous lime and honied sycamore. 
 The rolling of the water and the wind 
 Ere long unheeded may around thee pour : 
 But while the music lingers in the mind, 
 Enjoy it, blended here with human voices kind. 
 
140 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 Sweet are the tones of sister and of brother 
 Attuned to love and pity ! sweeter still 
 The pensive silence of the patient mother ! 
 Here, ministers of health and grace fulfil 
 In doing good their great Exemplar's will, 
 The will of Him omnipotent to save 
 Both soul and body out of mortal ill ! 
 Adieu ! — nor dread the coming hour, nor crave : 
 The will of Grod be done on earth and in the grave ! 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Of pale mortality 'tis sad to speak, 
 Of faded beauty, and of palsied might. 
 And of a change on the beloved cheek ! 
 Come, while the breezy air and radiance bright 
 Flood the green peaks and yon ethereal height ; 
 Come, look on Bonchurch, from the sacred steep 
 Whose springs salubrious gush with life and light, 
 E;oll'd on in beauty to the rounding deep, 
 Of undulation wdld a discontinuous sweep ! 
 
CANTO V. 141 
 
 XLIY. 
 
 Under a down of finely- moulded form, 
 (To climb, would need the Chamois' nimble hoof,) 
 Valley and village safely bide the storm ; 
 So well is each tall tree, each lowly roof, 
 Secured by rocky barriers tempest-proof ! 
 The slopes beyond, a bristling ridge present 
 To make the surly winter keep aloof ; 
 While, in the dale, upheaved, high mounds prevent 
 The trampling feet that urge the breathing element. 
 
 XLY. 
 
 To trickle down a rock, and flow from under 
 Into a bath for Eos dewy-eyed, 
 The sky-bom fountain springs, a lucid wonder ! 
 No more to gleam and gurgle by the side 
 Of Shepherds* Lcme ! but with a quiet glide 
 To thread the pool ; whence stealing under ground 
 It runneth down to meet th' eternal tide. 
 Forth welling with a soft susurrant sound 
 Below the grey church- waU — anon to plunge and bound ! 
 
142 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 Mirror of beauty ! never mountain rill 
 From skj to sea so rapidly descending, 
 Nor tairn, high-overhung of crag and hill, 
 And wood upclimbing here and there impending, 
 A varied verdure with the blue air blending, 
 Did a serener face or sweeter glass 1 
 Shoals, as of golden oars, in silence wending. 
 Ply the mid-pool or glide along the grass ; 
 Coats, as of scaled steel, up-sparkle as we pass ! 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 Eed-finn'd, of azure body waved with green 
 And star-bespangled, moves from place to place 
 The roach, clear-eyed, and of a pearly sheen : 
 Of finer form, and of a livelier grace. 
 Swift as a swallow darts the nimble dace 
 The gnat to capture dancing in the beam, 
 Or moth or fly— a tantalizing chase ! 
 Between yon apple pendent o'er the stream 
 And willow deep-embay' d, the silver-breasted gleam. 
 
CANTO V. 143 
 
 XL VIII. 
 
 Near the north border, fringed with water-weed, 
 Where flowering Iris casts a yellow glow. 
 And shoals innumerable sport and feed. 
 The carp is sailing circumspect and slow. 
 Or slily lurking in the sedge below 
 To seize the flagworm, her appointed prey. 
 The swans come swelling out their breasts of snow — 
 The moorhen lieth quiet, while she may, 
 Till dewy shades descend, or showers bedim the day ; 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 Nor dim nor dewy now ; yet ample shade 
 Of elms wide-branching overspreads the stream, 
 Grraceftdly pendulous, or broad displayed. 
 Impervious here, there letting in a gleam 
 Of azure freckled by the fiery beam. 
 How the live leaves, as though each vein had glow'd. 
 Quicken Imagination's noonday dream ! 
 From under "Woodlynch, by the winding road. 
 Peeps picturesquely out the peasant's wreath'd abode ; 
 
144 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 L. 
 
 A cottage peradventure of content, 
 If Eaith witli true humility of mind 
 Put virtue on, her crowning ornament ; 
 If Hope look heavenward, leaving care behind. 
 And Love walk hand in hand with humankind ; 
 Content, if Heaven the cottager inspire 
 To see and hear and feel, and solace find 
 In the boon air, and in the rich attire, 
 And in the voices sweet of earth's harmonious quire. 
 
 LI. 
 
 Up from the green-edged water, ivy-clung, 
 To the grey crag, shows many a gorgeous hue, 
 G-lass'd in the liquid heaven with sapphires hung. 
 Beyond the laurel-bank, wind out of view 
 Flower' d lawn and richly-foliaged avenue ; 
 While masses black jut out against the sky ; 
 As, on the Wyndecliffe, holly-boughs and yew 
 Shadow the waters of the murmuring "Wye, 
 And, swept of sea-wdnds, swell the rolling melody. 
 
CANTO V. 146 
 
 LII. 
 
 'For those deep voices, let the woodland dove 
 Sere, through the long delightful summer days, 
 Pour the full bosom of harmonious love, 
 In tones of tenderness, in truthful lays 
 That find in harmony the sweetest praise ; 
 And while such sounds among the village trees 
 Wind, with the smoke, in many-volumed maze. 
 Let calm content, if rural health and ease 
 Be not a fable, dwell in myrtle d cottages ! 
 
 LIII. 
 
 If Freedom wander on the mountain height 
 With the fresh breezes, lo ! an open steep, 
 The wild dominion of a pure delight ! 
 Or lower down, where native hawthorns keep 
 Their craggy station, you may climb, and leap 
 For joy, to find, as by enchantment led. 
 Young May awaking out of dewy sleep ! 
 Eed gleam the pines from under night, thick-spread : 
 Acacias lightly wave, and cedars fragrance shed. 
 
 L 
 
146 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 Hither, for health, ere rock to rock be telliag 
 Of gratulation pour'd from brake to brake. 
 Ere the tranced dormouse leave her mossy dwelling. 
 Or finny darter ripple the blue lake, 
 The wounded come on in the golden wake 
 Of Hope, that seems to promise the pale prey 
 Of gnawing atrophy and heartfelt ache, 
 To check the course of premature decay, 
 Th' inevitable blow to lighten or delay. 
 
 LV. 
 
 Though winter yeU witJiout, a vernal air 
 Over the land of undulation flows ; 
 A vernal verdure, though the woods be bare. 
 Smote by the slant and yeUow radiance, glows : 
 Indigenous ivy, fresh and glossy, throws 
 Her sportive tendrils over rock and tree ; 
 Shrubs, as of spice, delicious leaves disclose 
 Breathing of region bland beyond the sea, 
 Or bathed of azure floods, like thine, Parthenope. 
 
CANTO V. 147 
 
 LVI. 
 
 If earth or air afford a sovereign balm 
 For pain, a balsam for the wounded mind ; 
 If health be native to a land of calm, 
 From the keen arrows of the northern wind 
 Defended by the rocks piled up behind, 
 And by the swelling hills, a double chain ; 
 If restoration ye can hope to find 
 Who " in this harsh world draw your breath in pain V' 
 Come hither, and abide — and peace with you remain ! 
 
 In a green dale with briar-roses hung, 
 With ruddy maple, and with rowan grey 
 Athwart an ivied cliff and hoary flung ; 
 Where yonder JSTutgrove braves the stormy sway, 
 A fruitftd orchard owns the ripening ray, 
 Its fohage only by the flutter stirr'd 
 Of rival songsters — hearken to their lay ! 
 What emulation ! bird provbking bird. 
 While Love's sweet undersong among the leaves is heard ! 
 
 » " And in this harsh world draw thy breath in ^dAn."— Hamlet. 
 L 2 
 
148 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 Here, in tlie bramble hanging down tbe rock, 
 The warbler of the night suspends his nest, 
 To trance the dewy silence ; hither flock, 
 Various of voice, in divers colours drest. 
 Birds from the sunnj South and balmj "West ; 
 And here, what time the shadowy vampires skim 
 The twilight pool, he of the crimson breast 
 Chaunts to the rocks and caves a sacred hymn, 
 Nor ceases till the stars look down the region dim. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 Portunate ye, who here a refuge find \ 
 Who, in the light of a beloved eye. 
 In the calm haven of an equal mind. 
 Content in quietude to live and die, 
 Dwell unreproved, and build your hope on high f 
 Who, when the powers of storm and darkness smite 
 The deep, and shadows overcast the sky. 
 Draw from the dreamy caves of sound and sight 
 Voices of dulcet tone, and visions of delight ! 
 
CANTO V. 149 
 
 LX. 
 
 Fortunate ye, wlio those fine cells employ 
 To treasure duly all this earth displays 
 Of beauty, and of bounty, and of joy ; 
 Who to the Giver of all good upraise 
 The homage of the lieart, continual praise ! 
 Happy are ye, who note in tint and tone 
 A natural harmony ; who feel the rays 
 Of light and glory over Nature thrown, 
 On leaf and fruit and flower, on stream and sparkling 
 stone. 
 
 liXI- 
 
 Beyond The Nutgrove, down a clover' d lea 
 The Merrill-field and the White Cape between, 
 A path is open'd to the broad round sea 
 Whose rippling waters with a starry sheen 
 Bathe the dun rocks about the bare ravine. 
 Or group' d or single, whiten' d by the wave 
 Or black above the shiver' d crystal seen. 
 Then buried only when the wild winds rave. 
 And urge the yeasty floods to deluge cliff* and cave ; 
 
160 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 An iron-boimd, unfriendly coast erewhile, 
 Till G-enius smooth' d the rugged rocks, and made 
 The sands to sparkle and the seas to smile ; 
 And heaping stone on stone, the barrier bade 
 Stay the proud billows — and the billows stay'd ! 
 Then, up the narrow bay, at ebb of tide, 
 The barge began to venture, big with trade, 
 Wafting those treasures o'er the waters wide 
 Whose household Hght outshines Potosi's glittering pride ! 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 Mirror of blue-eyed heaven, pellucid plain 
 Of glassy smoothness, what a realm is sleep 
 Of hideous phantoms ! — rears his hoary mane 
 And crested head the dragon of the deep : 
 Air moans, as down the gloomy welkin sweep 
 Wings of ill omen, round the doom'd to flock. 
 To rouse the whirlwind ! — Lo ! the fiery leap 
 Of thunderous cataracts ! the crash ! the shock ! 
 Quench' d are the burning stars! the deep foundations 
 rock ! 
 
CANTO V. 151 
 
 Lxrv. 
 
 In one fierce blast confounding sky and sea, 
 Quickening the rack of tlie tormented air, 
 The tempest rages, with a maniac glee 
 Leaping from peak to peak, with ghastly glare 
 The proud appalling, strikiQg dumb despair ! 
 And hark ! a Voice, a rolling Voice diviue 
 Peals on the startled soul, repent ! prepare ! 
 The cloven darkness — how its entrails slune 
 Tom by the jagged &re, entangled in its twine ! 
 
 LXY. 
 
 The heavens are shaken ! earth and sea are swept 
 As with the besom of destruction ! hell 
 Yawns ; and the black abysm which had slept 
 Through soundless ages — aU who darkly dwell — 
 Wake, and the terrors of their dungeon tell ! 
 And now, out of the gulph, on sullen wings, 
 Blacker than night, and more than famine fell. 
 Death on the troubled deep his shadow flings 
 Where to the drifted wreck the crew devoted cliags. 
 
152 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 LXYI. 
 
 All eyes are on tliem ! Spirit of mercy, spare ! 
 All hearts are with them ! Arm Almighty, save ! 
 The drowning element but mocks our prayer 1 
 Wide are the jaws of the remorseless grave ! 
 Whelm' d in the mighty waters sink the brave ! 
 Eoll on, ye billowy mountains of the main. 
 Beat on the mortal weed and round it rave, 
 Cold — stark — unconscious — whether hail or rain 
 Or thunder ring its knell, or howling hurricane ! 
 
 LXYII. 
 
 Wrecks strew the sea, as leaves the ruffled brook 
 Before the breath of Autumn ! floating oar, 
 And boat, keel-up, and hull of hope forsook. 
 And many a drift of storm-devoted store, 
 Dash on the rocks or skirt the deluged shore. 
 Through showers of spray, before the driving blast 
 Eeels dim and dizzy 'mid the deafening roar 
 Of breakers, landward by the surges cast, 
 A ship without a sail ! — men cluster round the mast ! 
 
CANTO V. 153 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 Could Art avail her, lo ! a chosen band 
 With Dennett's rocket-lights the cliffs descending, 
 To breast the surf along the boiling strand ! 
 Or o'er the summit of the steep impending. 
 To works of love their skill and courage lending ! — 
 Nearer and nearer by each billow borne 
 To where the craggy coast is eastward tending, 
 The blind ship staggers, by the tempest torn 
 Over the ragged rocks : the mute beholders mourn. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 Eedeemer, hear, and bid thy people live ! 
 Avert the ruin, save the castaway, 
 Eegard our anguish, and our doubt forgive ! 
 Rebuke the winds, the swelling floods allay, 
 O Thou, "Whom earth and sea and sky obey ! 
 The trusting heart is sweeter than a psalm ! — 
 The winds are veering — Death will lose his prey ! 
 Take all we have. Creator of the calm, 
 Bow'd heart, and bended knee, and meekly-folded palm. 
 
154 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 LXX. 
 
 From storm and darkness into light and rest 
 How sweet is the transition ! — sea and sky 
 Through all their changes follow one behest ; 
 Charged, till the channel of old Time grow dry, 
 To run the round of mutability ! 
 Did these sands sparkle thus ? yon rill of Hght 
 Plunge, when the kingly Eoman camp'd on high ? 
 How felt the warriour when the portal bright 
 Open'd, and shafts of fire pour'd on the rear of night ? 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 How would they look on the creation, they 
 Who have not known the Lord, or have denied ? 
 How, on that hallow' d porch of stony grey 
 Bearing the Cross of Him Who for us died. 
 And by his Presence graced and sanctified ? 
 How, on the grass-grown Silence heaved around 
 Beneath umbrageous elms ? — Away with pride ! 
 And let not folly in your train be found ! 
 Approach with pious awe — for holy is the ground ! 
 
CANTO V. 156 
 
 LXXn. 
 
 Find here, a refuge for the conscious breast 
 That heaves and tosses like the troubled deep ; 
 Balm for the wounded, for the weary rest ; 
 Por those a sabbath who the Sabbath keep, 
 Health for the soul, and for the body sleep. 
 If ye would enter, feel for all mankind ! 
 Joy with the joyful, with the mourner weep. 
 Pray for the wilful heart and clouded mind, 
 For all who wretched be, naked and poor and blind ; 
 
 Lxxni. 
 
 For whatsoever ought to be desired. 
 For knowledge how to live and how to die, 
 Pray, in that ancient tongue, not uninspired 
 By the pure Spirit of the Power on high, 
 The language of the Church — ^her Liturgy ! 
 Pray with the heart ! and having blindly err'd. 
 Or madly braved the dread soul-searching Eye, 
 Eepent, and hanging on th' Eternal Word, 
 Each exhortation hear, and ponder, having heard ; 
 
156 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 Then be of comfort ! never more, as now, 
 To waste and languish under secret smart ; 
 No more beneath a galling yoke to bow ; 
 Eree, from the land of bondage to depart 
 And serve your Maker with a willing heart ! 
 To look on Nature, and to love her, free ; 
 To view the wonders of creative Art ; 
 To join the solemn anthem of the sea ; 
 The carol of the bird, the burden of the bee ! 
 
 LXXY. 
 
 But now long shadows over bower' d East Dene 
 Eall eastward, freak' d with yellow ; shadows sweep 
 Erom these old churchyard elms adown the green. 
 A mellow radiance, slant from steep to steep. 
 Glows on the sail far off; and o'er the deep 
 The moon comes rippling on in wavy gold ; 
 Ere long to lie in pale cold death-like sleep 
 On these green turves irregularly roll'd : 
 Draw near, and inly moved, look on the mortal mould ! 
 
CANTO V. 167 
 
 LXXYI. 
 
 You may not enter ! — Leaning o'er the wall, 
 Think what has been, and is, and is to be ; 
 How light and shade without distinction fall 
 On each, of lofty or of low degree. 
 On young and old alike, on bond and free ! 
 I feel the presence as of one sublime 
 Above the tossings of our troubled sea, 
 Come from his mansion in the Eastern clime ! 
 And Tiere be those he cared for in the dear old time ! 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 Mary and E-osa faded in their bloom, 
 By no vindictive, by no partial law ! 
 I think of Mary 'midst a naked room, 
 Her pale face lifted up with solemn awe ! 
 A hand was on the wall ! — she seem'd to draw 
 Deep meaning from it ; and, at length, she said : 
 " I see a hand like that which Daniel saw !" 
 And then the writing, prophet-like, she read, 
 And laid her down in peace I — behold her narrow bed ! 
 
158 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 Her sister follow' d, like a new-blown rose 
 Untimely gather' d, but for ever sweet ! 
 Between her parted lips so soon to close, 
 The spirit aspiring would its Maker greet, 
 And only faU — to faU. at Jesus' feet ! 
 Angel of death, thou knowest, blest are they 
 Who virgin-hearted their Eedeemer meet ! 
 Prom whose rapt eyes all tears are wiped away, 
 Pain never more to feel, nor sorrow, nor decay ! 
 
THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 CANTO VI. 
 
CANTO VI. 
 
 I. 
 
 Old as they are, these walls may still outlive 
 The thrones of Tyranny, th^ towers of Wrong ! 
 May to "the temple-haunting martlet" give 
 A vernal welcome, when the stern and strong 
 Have ceased to thunder save in Epic song ! 
 A righteous Vengeance will the proud repay — 
 Why spared tiU now we know not, nor how long — 
 Eut it is written, there will come a day 
 When Eight shall reign, and Czars and Csesars pass away ! 
 
 M 
 
162 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 II. 
 
 The strongholds of the ravening eagle feU 
 Down in a moment from their pitch sublime ! 
 And now the conies peep about, and dweU 
 Among them, burrowing ; and stealthy Time 
 Sheds on their blacken' d faces wintry rime. 
 O'er haunted Petra flit diaphanous wings 
 Dipt in the colours of a glowing clime : 
 Bird unto bower' d bird responsive sings, 
 And cavern' d Echo mocks their jealous jargonings. 
 
 III. 
 
 Over the ponderous huge stones which lie 
 Prone, or supine, or sidelong on the ground, 
 Mosses and lichens creep ; stems shoot on high 
 Prom many a cleft, and ivy runneth round. 
 Of tropic growth, in hoUow way profound, 
 The fern is branching hoary crags between : 
 Wild flowers and fruits and berries wild abound. 
 O'er which the bryony's red crest is seen 
 Evolving out of folds of purple waved with green. 
 
CANTO VI. 163 
 
 IV. 
 
 Earth trembles ! many a lofty one is hurrd 
 Down to the common level of low pride ! 
 But Nature soon renews the wasted world ! 
 Wide as was here the desolation, wide 
 Is now the beauty shower' d from side to side. 
 Wild thyme and heath-flower hither draw the bee : 
 Out of the turf Euphrosyne bright-eyed 
 Peeps ; and the yellow vetch and purple pea 
 Bloom ; and The Traveller's Joy trails over rock and tree. 
 
 V. 
 
 The goats of MeHboeus never knew 
 A flintier path, a thicker hazel-shade ; 
 ISTor hung on thornier heights bedropt with dew : 
 If oaten reed no more to grove and glade 
 Pipe — yet our own Theocritus hath stray' d 
 Hither, amidst a region of surprise ! 
 Who sang " The Lotos Eaters," here hath laid 
 Him down, and under summer-breathing skies 
 Pored on voluminous earth with calm creative eyes. 
 M 2 
 
164 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 yi. 
 
 Now, would he gather of the flowering weed. 
 The slow hours tracing on a mossy stone : 
 Imagination, out of hollow reed 
 Above the waterfall, drew many a tone 
 The tuneful Tityrus had pined to own ; 
 Then, the viburnum, and the slumberous strain 
 Of honey-bees, low-gurgling ; and the moan 
 Of Love that ever will of want complain ; 
 Would bring the fabled age, the Grolden, back again ! 
 
 Chirr' d the woodpigeon over wild East End 
 And Luccombe's brooding elms ; and now and then, 
 Where late we saw the peering goat impend, 
 Flitted and gleam' d the golden-crested wren ; 
 And only gladness seem'd to fill the glen ! 
 Eut he who caU'd on Galatea, though 
 She took no pity on his desolate den — 
 And beautiful (Enone, deep in woe 
 On Ida, fray'd the dream of Eden here below. 
 
CANTO VI. 165 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Yet, " Love is of the valley," would he sing ; 
 And may the melody, as in the mind 
 And heart of Ida, daughter of a king 
 And flower of maidenhood, an echo find 
 In the deep inner world of womankind ! 
 Love in a cottage hath been long derided 
 By such as shift with every change of wind : 
 But Love will little reck, or mock'd or chided. 
 If they who live to love, in death be not divided. 
 
 IX. 
 
 As myrtles deck the valley, shepherd, bind 
 Thy brow with myrtle while her flower is bright ! 
 Leave wrinkled Care and hollow Pomp behind. 
 And plumed Danger on the darkening height. 
 And lay thee in the bosom of Delight ; 
 And, balmier than the breathing of the West, 
 And softer than the falling dews of night 
 On folded roses in ambrosian rest, 
 Enjoy the gentle wave of a devoted breast. 
 
166 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 These rocks have heard a voice singmg alone 
 Of " Feudal Times," and Scotland's ancient crown ; 
 Of camps and courts with rankness overgrown ; 
 Of envy robbing valour of renown ; 
 Of worth affronted by the vulgar frown 
 Of high prerogative, from sire to son, 
 From mother unto daughter handed down ; 
 Of love and honour honourably won 
 By knightly thoughts and deeds heroically done. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Oft in our vale, sweet singer, thou hast view'd 
 The gradual waste, the sudden overthrow, 
 The clothing of the stony solitude ; 
 And on the wild and ragged coast below 
 Dunnose, hast ebb'd and flow'd with ebb and flow 
 Down from the world before the Flood, I ween ; 
 And, in the wandering waters to and fro 
 Eolling, the broad-back' d porpoises hast seen 
 Flash, as their oily sides glanced on the sunny sheen ! 
 
CANTO VI. 167 
 
 XII. 
 
 There let them flounder on amid the blue 
 And yellow ripple to the noontide ray, 
 And snort and plunge, while gliding into view 
 The merry rover o'er the billowy way, 
 A white sail dipping in the whiter spray, 
 As on the wings of hope and pleasure flies, 
 Eapid and bright and fugitive as they ! 
 Yet, earth smiles on — and light impartial lies 
 On hoary bough and green ! we may not tax the skies ! 
 
 xin. 
 
 Who vindicated Eight, and those free men 
 To die for Freedom and the Commonweal, 
 Eliot and Hampden, he hath roam'd our glen ; 
 He who, in gentle Groldsmith, would reveal 
 The wrongs and woes of G-enius, quick to feel 
 The taunting tongue and the cold eye of scorn. 
 And the curl'd lip impatient of appeal; 
 He who the better nature, left forlorn 
 Amidst a populous waste, would strengthen and forewarn. 
 
168 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 For him and me tlie yellow-beaked crow 
 Clang' d, and the rock gave back a rugged sound ! 
 For him and me a deeper voice below 
 Pour'd billowy music o'er the broken ground 
 Between yon ocean-barriers iron-bound ! 
 We saw the ribs and bones of Chaos, torn 
 Apart, or thrown together, lie around ; 
 And through a cleft by winter-torrents worn 
 Admired the rolling mist in silence slowly borne. 
 
 XV. 
 
 There, stood John Stirling, by the lone ravine 
 Eapt, as the Seer of old on Pisgah wild 
 Who saw the Promised Land— divinely seen ! 
 Here, William Adams, under rocks rock-piled, 
 Dream' d of a future home in region mild. 
 They need not of thy quiet to receive, 
 G-len, on whose deep seclusion peace hath smiled ! 
 Who leave behind them pain and sorrow, leave 
 The mortal part of Death 1 — ^yet. Memory will grieve ! 
 
CANTO VI. 169 
 
 XYI. 
 
 The desolate bosom makes the barren waste ! 
 Yet, unto Zion bound (a sacred way 
 With rose of Sharon and with lily graced), 
 Would Judah not admire the rich inlay ! 
 !N"or mark in Jordan how the willows sway ? — 
 Could Ephraim view the river's cavern' d fountain 
 Unmoved ? or by the clear blue waters stray 
 That bathed Capernaum, and find no mountain 
 Oracular, each true beatitude recounting ? 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Lone region, haunted by the Word divine, 
 
 By the pure breath of Inspiration old, 
 
 To list thine echoes would it now were mine ! 
 
 To tread thy turf, thy children to behold 
 
 E/cdeem'd, recover' d, folded in one fold ! 
 
 Have I not loved them, served with heart and hand 
 
 And tongue, and cheer' d them when the world grew 
 
 cold? 
 Have I not hail'd the coming of a band 
 With banners from Above waved over sea and land ? 
 
170 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XYIII. 
 
 The vision, as in Mirza's eastern tale, 
 Pades ! — and a lowing climbs the pastoral leas ; 
 And he is looking down into the dale 
 On flocks and herds, and dwellings among trees, 
 And slopes of yellow corn, and summer seas. 
 And open promontories sheer and white 
 Bathed in the blue serene without a breeze ; 
 He, whose clear spirit was a star of light 
 To Nell, the wandering child, in innocency bright ! 
 
 XIX. 
 
 The boats that speck the glittering bay below 
 (Seems not each dipping oar a starry spark) 
 As corks or seaweed on the surface show. 
 To view no bigger than the piny bark 
 On which the squirrel tempts the waters dark. 
 Ethereal beauty clothes each emerald hill 
 As Tabor round or Hermon : up the lark 
 Soars on the wings of song ! a chirrup shrill 
 Stirs the green grass !— far down, the village-smoke how 
 stiU! 
 
CANTO VI. 171 
 
 XX. 
 
 O'er these wild solitudes will Quiet brood, 
 And hear, far off, the sheep-bell's tinkling tone, 
 And own a musick in the fitful mood 
 That waileth in the long dry grass alone. 
 On many a rounded eminence, o'ergrown 
 "With whin and whortleberry, oft is shed 
 A mellow murmuring, where flowers new-blown 
 Droop over mounded heaps with purple spread, 
 O'er dust inurn'd in dust ! — meet dwelling for the dead ! 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Here, under covert, birds and beasts of chase 
 Couch unalarm'd, secure from deadly snare : 
 If now the moorcock wake the lonely place 
 No more, nor stag bray from his heathy lair. 
 The partridge nestles near the seated hare 
 And the roli'd hedgehog in a coat of mail, 
 E/Cmote from human haunt ; and, haply, where 
 The bustard ranged, may cower the travell'd quail 
 While o'er the gulph of heaven piratic pennons sail. 
 
172 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 The raven, voyaging that upper waj, 
 Will see the wheatear flit from mound to mound, 
 And the ring-ousel stand, as one astray, 
 On a bleak cairn, grown over and imbrown'd 
 With heath, of old a Eoman burial-ground ! 
 Mash'd on the mountain-top a steely sheen ! 
 Clang' d over wood and wold a brazen sound ! 
 And then, in martial order on the green. 
 The strong and terrible and trampling Power was seen ! 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Yet, tyrants can be gentle when they please ! 
 I see the lords of earth, with open hand. 
 Enter the village-huts, by twos and threes. 
 To lounge and laugh, and oft with speeches bland 
 To woo the long-hair' d daughters of the land 
 To be the mothers of heroic men ! — 
 To cater for the captain of the band, 
 Apicius haunts the shore, expecting when 
 The coracle may dart home to the Tishers' Glen. 
 
CANTO VI. 173 
 
 XXIT. 
 
 Flood, never more the Ealcon-CliiF to drown, 
 Save when, embay' d in glass j calm below, 
 Thy smoothness draws the radiant wonder down, 
 The E/Oman saw thy waters ebb and flow. 
 Mush, and with quick and fiery sparkles glow 
 Primeval woods and dewy glades between : 
 He saw the water-weed wave to and fro 
 Amid the lucid lapse, in glossy sheen ; 
 And own'd a pensive power, a purity serene. 
 
 He praised our ocean-breeze and balmy shower 
 From far Atlantis bringing healthful air. 
 The fabled Isle, endued with gracious power 
 To free the thought from each entangling care, 
 To soften sorrow, and to charm despair. 
 Though human nature be to trouble born, 
 The general jubilee we still might share. 
 The bliss, the beauty, whether jocund morn 
 Awake the dreamy world, or starry night adorn. 
 
174 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XXYI. 
 
 Eome tJien—Bud now ! and Albion now — and then ! 
 Are living Homilies of earthly state, 
 Revealing, how the Ruler over men 
 Eaises the low, and humbles the elate. 
 And leaves him with his gods, who serves the great. 
 The mystic Image, part of iron made. 
 Thrown down and broken, lieth desolate ! 
 While they who bow'd before it, and obey'd. 
 With conquering wings outspread, the wide world over- 
 shade ! 
 
 XXYII. 
 
 Pray for humility, great Mother ; pray, 
 Enthroned Freedom, for thy royal brood — 
 That never more, till earth shall pass away. 
 May blast of war on populous plain intrude, 
 Nor wake the mountain, startling Solitude ! 
 Our only watcher be the sleepless Eye 
 That sees well-pleased, pursuing or pursued, 
 The simple foresters, no longer shy, 
 Sport in the lunar light beneath a summer sky ! 
 
CANTO VI. 176 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 The wild forefathers of that hanging wood 
 Crowded the glen, and overbrow'd the sea. 
 In the red dawning while the Druid stood 
 And shared the dew of heaven, on him, the glee 
 Of the blithe squirrel bounding far and free, 
 Was lost ; he saw the streamlet into birth 
 Come smiling out from under forest-tree, 
 And caught no radiance from that eye of mirth, 
 Nor on the prattle hung that gladden' d heaven and earth. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Dire Superstition haunted grove and spring, 
 And ravine winter- worn, and elfin hill 
 O'er which the breezes wander murmuring ! 
 Deaf to the tinkle of the pebbled rill. 
 Deaf to the nightingale's long tremulous trill 
 Of rapture welling out of love profound. 
 To love, black ousel, tune thy meUow biU ; 
 To love, reed-warbler, pipe a merry round, 
 Note hurrying after note tiU wood and cliff resound ! 
 
176 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Launcli'd into light where day spring's upward ray- 
 Shoots on the dewy leaves a sudden gleam, 
 The Brook ran sparkling o'er the golden way, 
 Or glided onward in the lunar beam 
 The smiling image of a pleasant dream ! 
 Till they whose narrow ken the hedgerows bound, 
 Who dimpled channel inconvenient deem. 
 Commanded ; and the waters underground 
 Stole, and the gloomy vault gave back a sullen sound. 
 
 Here, on the border of the running brook 
 "With moss and herbage finely overspread, 
 The E-oman might espy, in many a nook, 
 Primrose and violet as sweetly shed 
 As now, and hyacinth with bended head. 
 Nor fail'd the seasons, flower succeeding flower, 
 To deck thy dewy marge, O fountain-fed ; 
 Nor quire was wanting over burn and bower 
 Of voices love-attuned to praise the genial power. 
 
CANTO VI. 177 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Lull'd by the long monotony of flow, 
 The Eoman dream' d of gliding time : behold ! 
 Where stood the forest, slopes of sunshine glow 
 "With plenty ripening into wavy gold ; 
 And here the bean her beauty doth unfold 
 In all its sweetness to the western wind : 
 Sleek horses wade in clover, uncontroll'd ; 
 And fruits are clustering, smooth and rich of rind 
 As silvery bark with green and purple interlined. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Kine graze the lowland, while the sweeter herb 
 Is crept of sheep, the mountain as they may 
 Climbing and nibbling ; whom no fears disturb 
 Of talon or of tooth or beak of prey. 
 Or poison' d arrow deadlier far than they ! 
 But free to choose, they climb the ruddy mom, 
 Or dip their fleeces in the dewy grey ; 
 Their only enemy the wrinkling thorn 
 On an exalted brow— most high — and most forlorn! 
 
178 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 Not, as in Mantua, may the strong abuse 
 Their power ; nor Usurpation overflow 
 Eight ; nor loud uproar drive away the Muse ! 
 Eor Power and Freedom liere together grow, 
 And all may duly reap who duly sow 1 
 To wealth and honour opens many a road — 
 Fame still is drawing thousands from below ! 
 While Duty summons from their loved abode 
 The few who ride sublime as Cincinnatus rode ! 
 
 As spreads an oak that hath for ages stood 
 With interwoven boughs of deepest shade, 
 Lofty and large, the wonder of the wood. 
 So spreads before the soul, in vision laid, 
 A shadowy Yastness for dominion made ! 
 And as the denizens of earth and air, 
 When fiery Sirius hath his shafts display' d, 
 To leafy covert quietly repair. 
 So various tribes and tongues the Tree of Freedom share. 
 
CANTO VI. 179 
 
 XXX YI. 
 
 The free are free to cavil : these deny 
 The vested rights of Altar and of Throne ; 
 Those laugh to scorn the people's sovereignty; 
 Some grasp the deadly laurel ; others own 
 A brighter vo*eath — the poor man's benison. 
 Grreat Scipio, 'midst his triumphs, could reveal 
 How magnanimity is better shown 
 In self-denial for another's weal, 
 Than in sonorous brass and homicidal steel ! 
 
 xxxni. 
 
 How look'd the dreamer, when on wings of light 
 Sailing, the deep-hull' d monsters of the main 
 Vomited thunder ! how, when hove in sight 
 Outstretch' d, and panting ever as in pain, 
 A finny power flapping the watery plain ! 
 How look'd he, when, huge cities sweeping by. 
 Wide-snorting Terror with a tremulous train 
 Griared on the crowd, and spouting flames on high, 
 Trampled the burning earth, and shook the vapoury sky ! 
 N 2 
 
180 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 The Force precipitous, enormous, strange 
 To the rapt eye, is passing far away — 
 And now the vision is allow' d to range 
 O'er beacon' d height, and marble-breasted bay, 
 And thunder-rolling pavement night and day. 
 Streams multitudinous the slumberer sees. 
 And starry turrets as with watching grey, 
 And spires amid contemporary trees. 
 And bowers for Beauty made reclining at her ease. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Fields open out their treasures to the sun. 
 The fruits of Industry, on hiU and dale 
 And plain alluvial from the waters won ; 
 Nor, underground, those ancient riches fail 
 Which drew the Tyrian and the Grrecian sail 
 Between the fabled Pillars, o'er the blue 
 To take the tidal flood and ocean gale. 
 Little the merchant, Greek or Tyrian, knew 
 Of all the veined wealth deep-hidden from the view. 
 
CANTO VI. 181 
 
 But more tlian wealth avails the spirit free 
 In the clear light of truth and knowledge high ; 
 More than dominion over land and sea, 
 Most favour' d JN'ation underneath the sky, 
 Thy love of order tempering liberty ! 
 Too long had tyrants tried to break or bend 
 The will, fast-bound in hopeless misery ! 
 My Country, first the bondman to befriend, 
 Smooth be thine onward course, and calm thy latter end ! 
 
 Thy waters bear the forests of a world, 
 The full earth's providential overflow ; 
 And only Commerce hath her flag unfurl' d ! 
 But where, amid the wide imperial show. 
 Is Home ? — the Boman sought in vain to know ! 
 The Goth — the Graul — had quell' d her lofty look : 
 The dreamer, turning from a thing of woe. 
 Awoke ! — Before him lay a leafy nook. 
 And only stream' d below the murmur of a brook. 
 
182 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 The Brook, by tributary rills supplied, 
 Plunge upon plunge goes tearing up the ground, 
 And scooping out a channel deep and wide ; 
 Then into daylight with a nimble bound 
 Darts ; and the runnel is alive with sound ! 
 On a green knoU above the rifted way, 
 'Mid health and wealth and beauty laughing round, 
 The viUage-church wastes in a long decay. 
 To storm and vapoury drift and cankerous dew — a prey. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Whether the dawn attinge yon orient height 
 Above the biUows of cerulean roll ; 
 Or the meridian beam do more delight 
 The mute beholder ; or the calm control 
 Of dewy twilight sway the pensive soul ; 
 Let him who Nature rightly would explore 
 Pierce to the centre of the wondrous whole, 
 And the divine Original adore. 
 In Love unchangeable conj&ding evermore ! 
 
CANTO VI. 183 
 
 XLIT. 
 
 Mean is the loftiest temple made with hands 
 Compared with inner Paith, that hallow' d fane 
 In which are written the Divine commands, 
 On living tables which all truth contain 
 In characters of light engraven plain. 
 Ye who from out the burning Mount woidd fly, 
 To whom the Decalogue is woe and pain, 
 Know, that a contract hath been sign'd on high 
 Your penalty is paid ! ye shall not surely die ! 
 
 XLV. 
 
 Approach, twice-blest, if ye with one accord 
 Before your Maker bowing low the heart. 
 Live in remembrance of your dying Lord ! 
 If, laying bare the bosom's secret smart. 
 Ye rise recover' d, and in peace depart ! 
 Who darkness universal put to flight. 
 Will shed the day-spring, or the lightning dart : 
 The thickest curtain of dissembling night 
 Is thin as gossamer in presence of the Light. 
 
184 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 XLTT. 
 
 Church, on whose pavement it hath been our wont 
 To kneel together with a good intent 
 In glad communion ; or, beside the Font, 
 To see Eaith, Hope, and Love, benignly bent, 
 The little children to their Lord present 
 Seal'd with the Cross against the powers of hell, 
 Beneath the banner ranged of Him Who " went 
 Forth conquering and to conquer" — may the dell 
 Beneath us, long resound thy simple Sabbath-bell ! 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 So streams adown the glen a tinkling sound 
 Below where, fleck' d with yellow light, appears 
 A chequer'd orchard o'er the gleamy ground. 
 One tree low-bending, while another rears 
 Its branches, hoary with the moss of years : 
 And, hark ! the viewless with a voice of power 
 The woods acquainting with their hopes and fears ! 
 The turtle plaining over lonely bower ! 
 The fern-owl round yon oak churming at twilight hour ! 
 
CANTO VI. 185 
 
 XLYin. 
 
 As, where the Eheidol scoops its craggy road, 
 Grleams a Welsh cottage, lone, out-standing white 
 From hanging woods, so glistens yon abode ! 
 And see, through branching elms, the Foreland bright 
 Grlass'd in cerulean calm — a gorgeous sight ; 
 "Worthy of Mm who, rapt sublimely, saw 
 " The sun rise up and bathe the world in light ;" 
 Whose spirit drank the spectacle, in awe 
 Ecstatic, drawing thence what only he could draw. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 Poet of Nature, poet of the heart, 
 To forms familiar would it now were thine 
 Colour and thought and feeling to impart ! 
 To make the promontory soar and shine 
 And live for ever in thy lofty line ! 
 To steep in gladness ocean's azure flow ! 
 Or, in a wilderness of honied twine 
 Entrail'd with roses, 'mid the balmy blow 
 To hang the pensive path with blooms of long ago I 
 
186 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 Not uninvited by the wandering brook, 
 I linger near the Eorge, with brambles hung 
 And briars and hazel-branches in a nook 
 Of gloom, save only where a gleam is flung 
 On ferny bank, or bough with ivy clung, 
 Or where those smooth long leaves, enamell'd, lie. 
 A liquid murmur the dim woods among 
 Steals on the listening ear — ^the lifted eye 
 Of Contemplation feels the quiet of the sky. 
 
 LI. 
 
 Chirps, on a ridge of furze, the linnet blithe 
 Of heart ; the blackbird flutes among the trees ; 
 Nor inharmonious sounds the mower's scythe 
 To him, who tranced in recollection sees 
 Those haunts of boyhood which for ever please ; 
 Who rapt far inland from the stately show 
 Of radiant headlands and of rolling seas, 
 Hears, by a river of an even flow, 
 The measured sweep of scythes the tall grass laying low. 
 
CANTO VI. 187 
 
 LII. 
 
 In those delightful fields, by that smooth stream, 
 I may not now, on moss-inwoven floor 
 Indulge, fond Memory, thy tender dream : 
 The Present urges other scenes t' explore — 
 And, lo ! the shadows lengthen more and more. 
 Between wide-branching elms, a lofty screen 
 Against the tempest when it shakes the shore, 
 A shady lane and sunny mead between, 
 The pastoral mansion stands, girt with perennial green. 
 
 LIII. 
 
 A pensile thatch leans, flowering, o'er the lawn ; 
 And where the porch juts out, a various view 
 Opens, most wondrous when the dewy dawn 
 Steeps and suffuses with a roseal hue 
 The white cape imaged in a bay of blue. 
 Nor flowery plots, nor fruitful orchards fail 
 To prank whatever path the feet pursue, 
 Nor thicket, running down into the dale, 
 Nor hedgerow trim, to lodge the vernal nightingale. 
 
188 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 May the sweet singer, under verdurous woof 
 The manse adorning on its sunny side, 
 Choose where the myrtles clamber to the roof, 
 And long as they remain the village-pride, 
 Build unreproved, and undisturb'd abide ! 
 Long may the liquid warbling hither float. 
 Winding the dewy folds of eventide, 
 In modulation note involving note 
 Prom covert green outpour' d, to brooding Love devote ! 
 
 LV. 
 
 Listen, ascending on the midnight air 
 The winged wonder, listen to the lay, 
 Nor weary Sleep with unavailing prayer : 
 The tuneful stranger soon will pass away 
 And leave you longing ; hearken, while ye may ! 
 ISTor other notes of lower pitch disdain, 
 The native carol of the common day. 
 The mellow pipe of merle, or the clear strain 
 Of robin or of wren about your window-pane. 
 
CANTO VI. 189 
 
 LYI. 
 
 Attuned to ISTature, may your hearts rejoice, 
 From honeysuckle-porch and ivy-bower 
 To welcome harmony's domestic voice, 
 At morn and noon and even's pensive hour 
 In joy uplifted to the genial power ! 
 Full be the song, and sacred be the rest 
 In mossy cell when musky roses flower 1 
 May no rude eye profane, nor hand molest 
 The sanctuary of trust ! the quiet of the breast! 
 
 LVII. 
 
 Adown the Vale of Shanklin, fenced from storm 
 By piny bluff, high ridge, or gradual hiU, 
 Lies in the lap of noon the village warm. 
 Fields, groves, and gardens with enchantment fill 
 The glen, responsive to the gurgling rill ; 
 While song-birds various, each to nature true, 
 Avoiding Winter, come and go at will ; 
 And a new Spring to find, or Summer new, 
 The leafy path of love instinctively pursue. 
 
190 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 LTIII. 
 
 Thin wreaths of vapour from among the trees 
 Ascend in silence, blended here and there 
 Above a group of vine-clad cottages, 
 Whose hanging eaves invite the plumy pair 
 To build, vrhile yet the forest-boughs are bare. 
 Blest is the swallow, privileged to rove 
 Through vernal regions of serener air, 
 Or to lie dormant under beechen grove. 
 In hollow bank or brae with thicket interwove. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 Changed is that orchard sloping to the stream — 
 Those elms no longer overhang the road — 
 But our old cottage doth unalter'd seem, 
 Of joy domestic long the dear abode ! 
 The stream is flowing as it ever flow'd 
 At mellow eventide, persuading sleep — 
 The leaves are glowing as they ever glow'd 
 Smote by the setting sun : the snowy steep, 
 Eose-tinted as of old, bathes in the conscious deep. 
 
CANTO VI. 191 
 
 Peak over peak, into the blue air rise 
 Cliffs to tlie south — a solitary scene ! 
 The brooding partridge under covert lies, 
 Cowering beneath a prickly tuft of green. 
 Whilst high in air the quivering hawk is seen. 
 Oft, in the twilight of a day in June, 
 While down — far down — lay in the deep serene 
 The folded wings of Calm, I linger'd — soon 
 In crimson o'er the surge to mark the rising moon. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 Where towers the Eoman crest with forest crown' d, 
 A gay pavilion wove of summer air 
 In gold and purple, o'er the wavy ground 
 Hangs, less abiding than the tents of Care ! 
 Whence soar'd the eagle, thither doves repair 
 At close of day to their appointed rest. 
 On bosky ridge or promontory bare. 
 To roost in crannies high above the quest 
 Of urchin idly moved to clamber to the nest. 
 
102 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 These hanging gardens to the South and East 
 "Would oft with bud and blossom, red or white 
 Or purpled o'er, the crimson Loxia feast ; 
 And hither nectarine juices would invite 
 Shy birds to banquet when the sun shone bright. 
 Elms border still a deep and shady lane— 
 The laurel-hedgerow twinkles, starr'd with light 
 As in the morn of life : while these remain, 
 And others, once my care — for some I seek in vain. 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 Melodious sycamore, whose depth of shade 
 Nor pattering rain could pierce, nor fiery beam. 
 Thy murmurous foliage many a time hath made 
 Pit umbrage for the poet's noonday dream. 
 Oft, when the shadow with the sunny gleam 
 In trembhng rapture over rock and tree 
 Danced to the music of the mountain-stream, 
 A revelation might the dreamer see 
 Of subtle shapes too fine for unenchanted ee. 
 
CANTO VI. 193 
 
 Alone witli Nature, lie hath heard and seen 
 Eledged with delight the forest-children play ; 
 Caught the blue billow rolling in between 
 The gnarled oaks' fantastical array, 
 And the white promontory's lofty sway ; 
 Mark'd the wild cherry brightening into bloom, 
 Or in the tinted vesture of decay ; 
 Hail'd the white thorn and yellow-flowering broom. 
 And cross a beamy shaft the lightly glancing plume. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 The scythe of ruin hath not mow'd thee down, 
 Grreen field of Memory, nor mortal hand 
 Pluck' d up, nor winter wither' d with a frown ! 
 Betwixt imbowering elms of high command 
 I see once more the lowly cottage stand. 
 Clothed with Oporto's richly-colour' d vine 
 The sunshine needing of her native land 
 The grape to ripen into generous wine, 
 Too liberal of leaf, of too luxuriant tii^dne. 
 
 o 
 
194 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 Prom foliage purpling o'er a vine-clad wall, 
 Prom " coigne of vantage" under beam befriending, 
 What time for food her feather' d nestlings call, 
 Hark to the fly-catcher, with never-ending 
 Care of her young, a plaintive cry forth sending ! 
 There, flower-inwoven, where rough trunks uphold 
 A pensile thatch o'er paved way impending. 
 The fond one hovers, bolder and more bold 
 Through Him whose wings of love her little ones enfold. 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 There, stood an arbour, round with ivy wrought, 
 "With woodbine and laburnum braided o'er 
 And hoary clematis, with perfume fraught : 
 The lining was of moss, and all the floor 
 Of shining pebbles such as pave the shore. 
 "With moss the dormouse lined her winter den, 
 Cull'd from that arbour, an unfailing store ; 
 The goldfinch thence, and golden-crested wren. 
 Would draw, and weave a web, the glory of the glen ! 
 
CANTO VI. 195 
 
 LXYIII. 
 
 Change came in Eden over fruit and flower ! 
 Can mortal man of time and change complain ? 
 Alas ! for one who graced our garden-bower ! 
 For fairy forms, a nimble-footed train, 
 In vain I listen ! and I look in vain ! 
 They come not ! they are silent ! — Ye who bend 
 Beneath affliction, under woe and pain, 
 E/Cmember whence ye came and whither tend — 
 How change shall be no more, and time shall have an end. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 The world we lean on is a hollow reed ! 
 The joy we doat on is a dangerous snare, 
 Eor ever failing us in time of need. 
 For ever fleeting, insecure, and rare 
 Of full fruition, hedged with thorny care ! 
 Since all have gather' d of the fatal tree 
 The fruit forbidden, treacherously fair ; 
 Since all have chosen, bitter though it be, 
 The knowledge dearly bought of evil — who can flee ? 
 o 2 
 
196 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 LXX. 
 
 Ere blight had faU'n on Eden's bloomy prime, 
 Time glided by 9ne current of content : 
 The soul immortal, free, erect, sublime. 
 In homage only to the Maker bent, 
 On beauty and on harmony intent, 
 Enjoy'd creation : duty with delight, 
 And love with reverence, were duly blent : 
 The spirit soar'd beyond the solar height — 
 Her fall hath dimm'd the day, and scared the dreams of 
 night. 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 With sin who dally, soon or late shall know 
 The venom of her sting ! — Who court applause 
 And dream of glory, shall awake to woe ! 
 The patriot toiling in his country's cause — 
 The builder up or puller down of laws, 
 As zeal or indignation urges him, 
 In mid-career how gladly would he pause ! 
 Condemn' d to toil till eye and heart grow dim — 
 The darling of a day ! the victim of a whim ! 
 
CANTO VI. 197 
 
 LXXIl. 
 
 x\.gainst vain-glory have ye vainly striven, 
 Against forbidden pleasure, by the base 
 And stern Usurper into exile driven ? 
 For true repentance have ye found no place, 
 None found for pardon and redeeming grace * ? 
 Cry, with the sinner who himself abhorr'd 
 Sole author of his own unhappy case, 
 '' We of our deeds receive the due reward : 
 Eemember me when Thou art in thy kingdom, Lord M" 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 Who know their nature to be fall'n and weak, 
 In good unstable, liable to stray ; 
 Who, self-convicted, cease to proudly speak. 
 And turn from visions ill-becoming clay 
 That hath no morrow— dying day by day — 
 They, if the bended will in daily prayer 
 Follow the light, will open to the ray 
 Divine, however dimm'd by grief and care, 
 Not to be quench'd in death, triumphant o'er despair ! 
 
 1 "Is there no place 
 
 Left for repentance, none for pardoii left ? "—Paradise Lost, Book iv. 
 
 2 Luke xxiii. 41, 42. 
 
19S THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 LXXIY. 
 
 Now, in the wake of her who rules the night, 
 The crisped waters ripple to the shore 
 In spangles numerous as the drops of light 
 That star the sands, or steep the mountain hoar. 
 Or trickle down the leaves — a silvery shower. 
 With touching beauty are the clouds imbued, 
 Eoll'd from the west — the cape is crimson' d o'er — 
 By thought and feeling tempered and subdued, 
 Who would not take thy path, prophetic Solitude ? 
 
 LXXY. 
 
 That each might duly weigh the coming hour 
 As all can weigh the past ! — When hope and fear 
 Hung equipoised, then was the ghastly Power, 
 The shadow of the ^Future drawing near, 
 Check' d by th' Omnipotent in mid-career. 
 The Shadow going back upon the dial ! 
 As when, in days of old, the Hebrew seer 
 Trom Hezekiah in the time of trial 
 Waved the dread angel back who bare the deadly vial ! 
 
CANTO VI. 199 
 
 LXXYI. 
 
 And what is lengtli of days, but, day by day, 
 For hope cut off and buried love to groan. 
 While dimness steals over our downward way, 
 As now, where tangled round and overgrown 
 G-lides the dark river down the yawning stone ! 
 A voice for ever hums a muffled tune 
 In the thick curtain round the torrent thrown, 
 A burden low and lower dropt at noon, 
 And high and higher raised up with the rising moon. 
 
 LXXTII. 
 
 Though now it trickle with a summer sound, 
 The floods of Winter down the dizzy steep 
 Bound, and from off the nether rock rebound ! 
 A dewy veil enwoven o'er the deep 
 Conceals the cauldron into which they leap ; 
 About whose margin, purple, green and hoar, 
 Vivid and smooth, perennial mosses creep : 
 Starr' d is the rock, or freckled as with ore 
 Of sunburnt HavHah or Ophir's golden shore. 
 
200 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 Enter, a dank and hollow way descending 
 Of edge precipitous, whose dripping springs 
 Imbue those colours beautifully blending ; 
 While, over many a weed that climbs and clings, 
 The shatter' d runnel spray refreshing flings. 
 Black is the basin whence the shooting stream 
 Shouts to the welkin tiU the cavern rings ; 
 The bursting waters through the gloaming beam 
 White as a flake of snow — a momentary gleam ! 
 
 LXXIX. ♦ 
 
 Trees, on the top of either craggy wall, 
 Larch, pine, and poplar, leaning over, throw 
 A varied verdure round the waterfall : 
 Tenacious alders their dark leaves below 
 Dip, or down sliding, after frost and snow, 
 Into the vortex of the refluent wave. 
 Sweep to the sea — more often in the flow 
 Of welcome streams their thirsty roots to lave, 
 Where rocks of iron hue the shady valley pave. 
 
CANTO VI. 201 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 By winding stairs, laboriously made 
 Of crumbling earth, scoop' d out, and osier-bound, 
 - Descend, and mark how Nature has array' d 
 The poor and naked, and about them wound 
 Her loving arms, to gladden all the ground. 
 Above — below you — falls the narrow river, 
 A rimy curtain round the cave of Sound, 
 In whose white folds the waters coil and shiver. 
 Bathing the sable base — methinks, I feel it quiver ! 
 
 LXXXI. 
 
 Dug deep and deeper, opening out more wide, 
 The flood-worn hollow doth in beauty wind 
 Of divers colours : o'er the darker side 
 Innumerous mosses spreading unconfined. 
 Vary the ground : scarr'd oaks and undermined 
 Hang on the jagged edge ; while furze and fern, 
 And each entangling thorn, the brighter bind. 
 By rock or tree rebuked at every turn. 
 You hear, in foliage hid, the murmur of the bum, 
 
 p 
 
202 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 And, hark ! a sound more solemn — a long sweep 
 Of mournful cadence — passing like a dream- 
 Again, and yet again — the rolling deep — 
 A flood of glory when the morning beam 
 Darts through the dewy glen a yellow gleam. 
 Waves over rock and undulating wood, 
 Grlows on the grass and sparkles o'er the stream ! 
 Now dim, befitting that ideal mood 
 Which haunts the twilight-path of pensive solitude. 
 
 LXXXIII. 
 
 Now, not a bird is piping on the bough, 
 Nor insect flashing through the summer-air ; 
 Now, not a beam is on the tower' d brow. 
 Nor on the window late one fiery glare. 
 Nor on those Druid -boughs hoary and bare. 
 Now, not a sound of labour or of play 
 Arouses Echo from her rocky lair — 
 The blue of heaven has faded into gray — 
 A filmy vapour hangs over the hollow way. 
 
CANTO VI. 203 
 
 LXXXIV. 
 
 Veil'd are the branches, to the South inclined, 
 Eruitfully bended o'er the dripping well ; 
 Yeil'd are the flowering arbours intertwined 
 Around the mazy brook. AU ye who dwell 
 Hard by, adown the labyrinthian dell ; 
 And thou, in darkness piled above the deep, 
 About whose cavern' d base the billows swell 
 And burst in thunder pealing up the steep, 
 Adieu ! — the star of Eve points to the cave of Sleep. 
 
 LXXXV. 
 
 A hush is over all ! a gradual gloom 
 Involves the grassy couch and mossy nest. 
 All silent, save the beetle heard to boom 
 Along the vale of Twilight ! all at rest. 
 All but the human heart — and billowy breast ! 
 Each beat of which wild-heaving you may hear, 
 The pulse of feeling never all-suppress' d, 
 A rolling harmony profound and clear. 
 To raise the solemn thought, and lull the lingering ear. 
 
204 THE FAIR ISLAND. 
 
 LXXXYI. 
 
 Voice ever sounding, whose stupendous song 
 Is wove of wonder, terror, and delight, 
 Grrand hierarch, leader of the tunefiil throng. 
 From out of chaos and primeval night 
 Call'd into being by the Word of Might, 
 Witness of Grod's unfathomable ways, 
 Sing to the Lord ! — and ye who roll in light, 
 With one accord the full hosanna raise, 
 While, rapt as in a trance, I listen — musing praise ! 
 
 LXXXYII. 
 
 O Thou that drawest round the folding-hour 
 A dewy curtain over beast and bird, 
 Bedew the fever' d heart ! sustain with power 
 The soul immortal, still divinely stirr'd 
 To mourn the mortal nature which hath err'd. 
 On all who love Thee, when at eve they pray 
 Or lift those heavings only Thou hast heard, 
 Drop balm ; and light them on their early way. 
 That each may duly bear the burden of the day. 
 
 THE EKD.