7 THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES JMnrtii, dfl. f'- 4 T)80&5 jr^E.AMJE) BIR,IIjn)IE„ J'fcrllja "WMs :^lng)»frt'd ,^s hoi- ajixiorJs eye Traced Jiis j-t'cocli73p: Jigru^-c 1li;-0Tjgiln \hv wood; fTrr- fiill vdns tlirobbprj , wilh lm•a/•^■ ii^(ULV, J'JojiL lJic ijfjM-e J]irt7acf oi' IJiHj jrun] of hlnoti , THE ISLAND BRIDE IN SIX CANTOS BY THE REV. HOBART GAUNTER, B.D. SECOND KDITION. LONDON : PUBLISHED BY EDWARD BULL, HOLLES-STREET. 1830. LONDON: J. HOLMES, 4, TOOK'S COURT, CHANCERY LANE. PR 1-4 5Z CZ1173i \830 ADVERTISEMENT TO THE SECOND EDITION. I CANNOT suffer a second edition of this little Poem to go forth to the world, without expressing how fully alive I am to the very flattering testimonies which have been given in its favour by some of the leading periodicals of the day. In one, indeed, I was cen- sured as an imitator of Campbell ; but another traced a similarity to Beattie ; while a third discovered that I reminded the reader of Parnell : these latter two, however, spoke in terms of high approbation of the book. The inference which may be fairly drawn froin these opposite judgments is, that I have imi- tated none of those distinguished poets. I am not, in fact, conscious of imitation ; though, it must be con- fessed, there is some similarity between my story and the "Gertrude of Wyoming;" but it is purely accidental. It is difficult to express what I feel at the favour- able reception which the Poem has met with. It iOl.3377 IV ADVERTISEMENT. was ushered into the woild with no pretension ; and I confess I was apprehensive that, amid the vast flux of literary novelties which is now constantly pouring from the press, my little volume would be absorbed, and escape the public attention. The demand for it, however, has been far beyond my expectation ; and, thus encouraged, I have ventured upon a second edition. As several persons who seem to have taken an interest in the story, have inquired whether the events related in it are true, I will here state the incident which originally suggested it. When I touched at the Isle of France, on my way from India, there was an old man, with silvery locks, residing on a small estate a few miles distant from the town of Port Louis, who was an object of universal sympathy, having become deranged in consequence of the loss of an only daughter. These simple facts have furnished the groundwork of "The Island Bride;" the rest of the characters, as well as all the incidents of the poem, are fictitious. Somerset Street, Oct. 25, 1830. THE ISLAND BRIDE. CANTO I. When I consider life, 'tis all a cheat; Yet, fooled by hope, men favour the deceit- Trust on, and tliink to-morrow will repay. To-morrow 's falser than the former day — Lies worse, and, whilst it says we shall be blest With some new joys, cuts oft" what we possest. Strange cozenage .'—none would live past years again. Yet all hope pleasure from what yet remain, And from the dregs of life hope to receive What its first sprightly rimning could not give. Drijdeii. CANTO THE FIRST. A charm was on the leopard when lie came V> ithin the circle of that mystic shade : Submits he crouched before the heavenly maid, And offered to her touch his speckled side. Curse of Keliama. Beneath a distant hill whose giant foi-m Threatened the clouds, an humble cottage stood;— Small, low and lonely, it escaped the stoi-m ; Screened and protected by a neighbouring wood Which spread its sombre foliage manj' a rood : Above its chimney-top the craggy steep' Rose like a column, on whose brow the brood Of carrion birds their daily revel keep, And there in guiltless blood their horny talons stopp. THE ISLAND BRIDE. [canto i. II. Here oft the storm terrific fury poured,^ Like a bayed tiger in his fierce despair. Around its peak the deafening tlumders roared, And the gaunt wolf, half famished, sought his lair — Scared by the din, to howl his terrors there. Trees down the mighty precipices flung. From their bleak sides the scanty verdure tear : — The poles seemed rent on which the world is hung, When round the blackening skies the voice of ruin runj III. Here on the dizzy cliff the light gazelle Browzed fearless by the dark and deep ravine ; Beneath him rolled the clouds, and o'er the dell Hovered the morning mists, as if to screen The airy wanderer. Whilst with eye serene And bounding step he sprung from steep to steep Heedless of peril, what a glorious scene Around him spread ! Who could behold, and keep His big heart still the while? — how would it start and leap, CANTO I.] THE ISLAND BRIDE. IV. To view the heavens' magnificent array Without a speck to bar the raptured sight ; To mark the rising of the orb of day In all the splendour of unclouded light ; To see what, in his plenitude of might, The Deity for this fallen world has done ! Oh ! think not, mortal, that sin's withering blight Has man-ed it yet — up the high mountain run, And from the swelling flood behold the morning sun. V. See him above the slumbering waters rise With one grand bvu'st of glory, whilst the wave Catches the lustre as he climbs the skies To look on distant worlds ; the blue concave Grows bright before him, and he seems to pave Its vast circumference with his own light. The fading stars his presence dare not brave ; And when he glows from his meridian height, All but a God he seems, in reason's very spite.^ THE ISLAND BKIDE. [canto i. VL The mountain gained, gaze o'er the vast expanse; Behold it — how stupendous the display ! — See nature in her wild magnificence ; Tlien to that God the prostrate homage pay Who lit, when all was dai-k, the torch of day. And spangled o'er with stars the ethereal road. If in this world it ^tere man's doom to stay, Nor pierced hy sorrow's sting nor misery's goad. How would his heart rejoice in such a hlest abode! VII. The ocean compassed with its watery zone Mauritius' rocky shore ; above the sea Hills, as by some long-past convulsion thrown From the smooth plain, frowned sternly o'er the lea.* Upon their brows the hardy ebony Waved to the blast in deep and dusky files : Beneath the thick fimereal canopy The Caff'er brigand, resting from his toils, In plotting daring schemes the daylight hom-s beguiles. ^j^^T-o I.] THE ISLAND BRIDE. VIII. Here 'neatli the towering Alp securely rose The dwelling of content ; before the door A yew-tree grew, grave emblem of repose. Though all within proclaimed its inmates poor, Still nought of vulgar life was there ; their store. Though rude, evinced them of fair lineage sprung. A sire and daughter vv-ere its inmates ; sore The sorrows which the old man's heart had wrung, Though o'er him now content her sweetest chaplet hung. IX. The neat sequestered dwelling reared its head Close at the mountain's base ; along the wall Its yearly growth a vine luxuriant spread. And duly gave its luscious load to all For whom it thrived, and, though the boon was small. With tributary store repaid their care. Nigh to the garden foamed a waterfall, Which lent its limpid current, cold and rare, To cheer the thirsty soil to yield its frugal fare. THE ISLAND BRIDE. [canto i. Seldom the squalid harpies of disease Came on destruction's mission f nature here In all her various changes seemed to please ; And though sometimes her aspect was severe, Still, when her terrors waked the shriek of fear, There was an awful grandeur in their scowl. What though the fierce tornado, year by year, Sent forth his deathful agents here to howl, — Ne'er teemed with fogs the air, dark, pestilent and foul. XI. Thus, health requited by her blessings rare The inmates of this solitary cot. They were not pampered ; their repast was spare : Content enhanced their homeliness of lot, And peace maintained her empire o'er the spot. Clear was the sky above them — never there The deadly vapour sailed ; with crimson blot Fever ne'er flushed her cheek ; nor croaking care Approached, with pointed fang, to prey upon despair. CANTO I.] THE ISLAND BRIDE. XII. The wide and varied prospect charmed the eye With all that heaven's magnificence conld yield : Above, the cloudless azm-e of the sky, Below, the simple vesture of the field. The surging mountain, on whose summit reeled Its hai-dy sons above the reach of sight; — The wood, whose trees their giant branches wield To dare the crashing tempest in its might, Impart to nature's child a stern but pure delight. XIII. For there are feelings for the vast and wild In nature and her rude sublimities. When, like huge Ossas upon Pelions piled, Her alpine barriers seem to brave the skies, Within us those sublime emotions rise Which lift us to the stars, and, pure as they, Raise the heart's rapture through the wondering eyes. Thus when aroimd the heavens fierce lightnings play, With a stern pleasure still we trace their dazzling way. 10 THE ISLAND BRIDE. [caxio i. XIV. This was the clime of storms and of the sun. In many a trench and rugged knoll was seen How fiercely they destruction's work had done: Still to the view, in fair and verdant sheen, The prospect smiled, one mass of living green. Before the cot a grassy vista sloped Its smooth defile; there, spring's congenial queen, The wild rose to the breeze her bosom oped — • There joy was fresh in bloom — there sadness never moped, » XV. The fair perspective opened on the sea ; Beyond, the blue horizon closed the scene : How cahn, how grand in its sublimity Was the vast ocean, as it rolled serene Below the distant plains which smiled between. Around the cottage, darkened o'er by time. Rocks, loosely bedded, frowned with hideous mien — Like wretch, whose lineaments are stern with crime — Above the jar of storms they reared their heads sublime. CANTO 1.] THE ISLAND BRIDE. 1 1 XVI. Here in retirement dwelt a hoary sage, Remote from all those feverish scenes of life Which have their different charms for every age, But teem so much with mischief. Dangers rife Are blent Mitli man's enjoyments : hate and strife Clank their rough fetters round the guilty soul. How oft does murder whet her greedy knife. Or, while she slily mocks the law's control, Prepare, with fiendish art, and drug the deadly bowl. XVII. Such are among the terrors which abound In an unholy world. It is not there That calm is to be sought, enjoyment found ; Tumultuous joys assail us but to scare The wearied spirit, and to rivet care More fixedly within us. Hoarse and loud Woe, masked in smiles, besets us everywhere. There the sole garb of virtue is her shroud, For how should virtue live where vice's legions crowd? 12 THE ISLAND BRIDE. [canto i. XVIII. But in retirement, where the constant strife Of fierce opinion never swells the breeze, Smooth and unvaried is the track of life.* No sordid feelings on the bosom seize, And wring the bitters from affliction's lees: Man blandly here his placid course pursues, Vexed by no sorrows, tranquil in his ease ; Strengthened by hope, and bright with heavenly views. Starts for that goal the sou], — which woe to those who lose. XIX. For no foul agents of corruption ply The secrets of their art : example here Assumes no form to catch the unpractised eye, And cheat the soul to wrong ; tranquil and clear The stream of life runs on, and misery's tear Sears not the cheek of youth, nor mars its bloom. The present and the past alike appear Exempt from human ills ; no sullen gloom Tracks the swift flight of time, to make our days a doom. OAXTOT.] THE ISLAND BRIDE. XX. 13 All the mild virtues of the heart are nurst, And ne'er polluted by those thoughts impure By which the sons of sensual mirth are curst ; Whilst from temptation's circumventive hu-e It fears no evil, calm and self-secure. Here every wild emotion is at rest, And the soul finds a refuge ever sure ; No pangs of thought the placid mind molest — No whirlwind passions rise to desolate the breast. XXI. But such unearthly feelings are imknown To those' who shun retirement's haunts, and hie, Like foul bacchantes to the burning zone Of revelry, and drain his chalice dry. There, like a plague-blast, in the glowing sky Contagious poisons taint the steaming air In crowded chambers, where the sensual eye Rolls with unhallowed leer, and the frail fair Meets with a ready smile the fixed and shameless stare. 14 THE ISLAND BRIPE. [canto i. XXII. There is in solitude a secret charm Which, of the sons of wassail, none can know. There discord never sounds her harsh alarm, And the meek lamb, unconscious of a foe, Shuns not his tyrant man ; the timid doe Frisks o'er the lawn and snuffs the western gale ; The hart feels nought of terror's boisterous throe. But bounds in freedom o'er the dappled dale; — Whilst at the evening fire goes round the merry tale. XXIII. One only daughter could Eumenes boast The frugal pleasures of his home to share : To shield this flower from an untimely frost Was now his only hope, his only care. Though his board groaned not with luxurious fare, Nor on it blushed the rich and gorgeous ore. More than sufliced his humble wants was there ; For nature, with a la^•ish hand, did pour Perjjetual plenty from her sweet but simple store. tANTO i.l THE ISLAND BRIDE, XXIV. Thus, far from courts and base intrigue removed, The blooming Bertha spent her hours of prime : She loved her father, was by him beloved. And casting incense on the wings of time, Sweetened his rapid flight. How oft she 'd climb Her native hills, and brave, with fearless tread. The steep ascent ; there trill her native rhyme. Nor heed the rocks that frowned above her head. Within whose murky clefts the eagle's victims bled, XXV. Upon her cheek the fondly wooing sun Had spread a tinge of pure and healthy brown ; The mantling currents underneath did run, And through the skin, ne'er ruffled by a frown, Revealed that tint which makes so sweetly known That health is at the heart. O'er each bright eye A tapering arch by heaven's own hand was thi-OAvn, Like tlic yoimg moon, when in the placid sky Her slender crescent hangs, joy's lierald from on high. 15 IC THE ISLAND BRIDE. [cakto i. XXVI. When o'er their mild orbs closed each lovely lid, The lovelier lashes met and intertwined, And, respiting the gaze, a moment hid Those sweet interpreters of heart and mind. The long dark fringes, when, like lovers kind, They met embracing, from the gazer's eye Forced a quick rapture, new and undefined : — To sketch her f\dl resemblance would defy The master-touch of art — 'twere worse than vain to try. XXVII. • Bertha was nature's uncorrupted child ; She knew no evil, nor of evil dreamed : On life's fair prospect, when she looked, she smiled, For all was lovely to her sight, or seemed. Oft when the owl his ominous night-note screamed, She 'd listen to the shrill portentous tone ; But with no inward dread her bosom teemed — To her the name of terror was unknown, For o'er her soul's repose no stoi'm had ever blown. CANTO i.l THE ISLAND BRIDE. 17 XXVIII. Oft would she seek the mountain's spiry brow, Where the strained eye her form could scarcely gain, Gaze in mute rapture on the expanse below, — On all the splendours of the varied plain ; Nor would the dizzy height confuse her brain : There wovild she tarry till the sinking sun Plunged his hot chariot in the cooling main. Then sigh to think his daily course was run — Still 'twas the sigh of peace, for sorrow she had none. XXIX. As in some solitary glen the rose Opens its gradual beauties to the dawn. Loading the wings of every wind that blows To waft its fragrance o'er the smiling lawn ; So, from tlie ruthless spoiler's snare \\ ithdrawn. Fair Bertha flourished in her native wild. Where nothing shunned her path, where kid and fawn Frolicked before her, as, with aspect mild. She cheered their nigh approach and at their gambols smiled. c 18 THE ISLAND BRIDE. [canto t. XXX. Here Bertha dwelt for heaven, and all was rest Within a bosom not j-et warped by guile ; The very throbbings of her gentle breast Were peace's lullaby; and, when the smile Played round her lips, it seemed as if the while The sunlight of her soul was beaming there Its God's bright reflex. How should guilt defile A thing so pure ! — and yet was she as fair As she was good — oh ! that like her all women were ! XXXI. There was a sweet unconsciousness about her, An utter absence of all pride, all art : AVho heard her clear soft tones could never doubt her. They were the echoes of a guileless heart. Truth hung upon her lips, whence brightly dart Its rays divine ; so seraph-like her air, That her pure frame seemed of her soul a part — Fit casket for a work so passing rare, For innocence had fixed its fairest impress there. TANTO I.] THE ISLAND BRIDE. 19 XXXII. Within the circle of her native glen She passed, without a care, the hve-long day : No wish was hers to join the " hum of men," Who wile in sensual dreams their lives awaj-. With the young rustics at their evening play She 'd mix, partaker of their merry glee. And oft-times join the artless roundelay, Or thread the dance, with footstep light and free,- Her life, without its din, one constant jubilee. XXXIII. Thus was that lovely seraph of the breast, Sweet sensibility, matured — a charm Which they alone can prize who know it best : All such feel keenly that the fond alarm, The rapid pulse, emotions quick and warm, Rut nourish pain to point the edge of bliss. Give me those pangs of feeling which disarm The bosom of its steel, and from the kiss Of true affection draw the sweets of happiness. 20 THE ISLAND BRIDE. [canto I. XXXIV. Oh ! there are certain achings of the heart Which, though they furnish us endurance sad, I would not, whilst they torture, bid depart, If I must lose what follows them : the bad Alone arc wretched ! — who would not be glad To bear with woe, if bliss is to succeed ? Grief is joy's touchstone;— joy can ne'er be had Unmixed with sorrow ; 'tis the sinner's meed : Guilt first provoked the doom — the gladdest heart must bleed. XXXV. Secluded from the cajitivating gaze Of sensual men, fair Bertha's youth passed on. The few who saw, saw not without amaze Mixed with delight, this beauty's paragon : The general meed of homage had she won From the boors dwelling near her native cot. Though she had never basked in luxurj^'s sun, Still hers might well be deemed a blessed lot, For earth's best blessings bloomed in that one lovely spot. CANTO I.] THE ISLAND BRIDE. XXXVI. Just eighteen times the bright and eager sun Around the heavens his flaming sphere had rolled Since Bertha's life of innocence begun. Already did her form its charms unfold, And o'er her polished neck, in rings of gold, The clustering tresses hung ; her lovely face, — On which the crimson eloquently told That peace within had fixed its resting place, — Bore, in each lineament, expression's easy grace, XXXVII. Her figure, like the lily's slender stem, Rose tapering, and expanded, as the spring Of fife attained its prime ; the spotless gem Of virtue — a most rare and precious thing — Deep in her mind was set ; the fretting sting Of passion never reached her placid breast ; Its potent poisons, fierce and festering. Ne'er broke the even tenour of her rest. And next her heart the dove had fearless made its nest. 21 22 THE ISLAND BRIDE. [canto i. XXXVIII. oh ! had tlie angeLs when (as some have sung) They left for earth the hright abodes of heaven, Looked upon aught so pure, so fair, so young, With love's chaste raptures — they had been forgiven. She had no mixture of that earthly leaven, Which, where infused, through the whole body creeps, Till the meek spirit from its home is driven : Her heart was shaped out in her words— there keeps Faith its unerring guard, and mercy never sleeps. XXXIX. Whene'er she paced the wold or mountain glen, On meditations of high scope intent. Far from all vulgar or insidious ken. Her bright eyes beamed with rapture as she went: Beneath her gentle tread the heather bcnt,^ And its fresh fragrance gushed from every pore, As if to wrap her in an element Which she alone inisjht breathe : her mental store Here found a kindred clime, and brightened more and more. CANTO 1.] THE ISLAND BRIDE. 23 XL. Her sire upon the tablets of her mind Had traced her conduct's chart, for 'twas his will That all its elements should be refined ; And he instructed her with anxious skill To shun those paths which slope the way to ill. Storing her mind from that experienced tongue, She did his fondest wishes soon fulfil ; O'er her fair brows wit's sprightly chaplcts flung, And with a steady speed, towai-ds wisdom's summit sjnung. XLI. Soon through the flowery paths of classic lore With most intense devotion had she past ; Nor did her plastic mind disdain to pore O'er ancient tomes, though dull and overcast By the crude writ of tedious scholiast. Eager as diligent, her mind she stored With various knowledge — knowledge formed to last ; Not its mere exlialations, so adored By wits of vapoury brain — by nobler souls abhori'ed. ~^' THE ISLAND BRIDE. [caxto i. XLII. Nor, as beneath her, past she heedless by Those light accomplishments which add their grace To win the heart and captivate the eye. Oft with her rapid pencil would she trace The form and varied features of the face ; Or nature's sterner lineaments, where wild She frowns, like some huge son of giant race ; Or, when the moon upon the landscape smiled, Picture the shadowy scene, — by the sweet task beguiled. XLIII. Hers was a mind so exquisitely wrought, It all but won perfection ; from her eye The brightest beams of intellect were caught. Whilst her transcendent soul and spirit high Peeped forth at every glance to dignify The form that did enshrine them. Nature here Seemed to have clothed, for once, mortality In the fair guise of heaven : without a peer She trod this grosser earth as if 'twere not her sphere. CANTO I.] THE ISLAND BRIDE. XLIV. 25 Time thus urged on his smooth but swift career, And o'er her, sorrow shed no withering blight. From her bleared eye the beldame's blistering tear Ne'er flowed, to check the lovely girl's delight — Sweet were her thoughts by day, her dreams by night : To her this world was paradise, as yet None of guilt's phantoms dire had crossed her sight ; And though on heaven her brightest hopes were set, Still was she blest on earth, nor had one vain regret. XLV. Her sire was happy, too ; he saw the day Of his hopes realized : his setting sun Was glowing with a bright and cloudless ray — Though clouds had dimmed it once, ere it had run The earliest of its course. It had begim Indeed in darkness, but a glorious liglit Is passhig from it, ere its task be done. Life is, in ti-uth, a scene of dark and bi-ight. Where oft the clearest day succeeds the blackest night. 26 THE ISLAND 13K11)E. [canto i. XL VI. The good old man ! — as kind as he was good ! His daughter fondly loved him ; and, to be The object of a love so hallowed, stood The fairest proof of worth in high degree. His friends all reverenced this worth, and he Deserved the kindly fellowship of all ; Whilst Bertha deemed — the purer angel she — That in this world, to her no world of gall, There lived no other man so free from vice's thrall. XLVII. So happy was he now, that scarce he felt The flight of time, that, as it moves, destroys. Before the throne of God he daily knelt To bless him for his mercies. Those alloys Which guilt so mingles with our sweetest joys, Were no more tasted here ; he now drank deep Of that pure cup which only never cloys. When virtue and religion jointly steep Those spices in the draught, that from pollution keep. CANTO 1.] THE ISLAND BRIDE. ^7 XLVIII. All the stern Inivvicanes of life seemed o'er — Long had he lived uninjured by their dint; Their devastations harassed him no more, And every hour had something joyous in't. Repose had softened too his bosom's flint, For early woes had hardened it. Before His path was strewed the wealth from nature's mint ; And he looked onward now for a rich store Of bliss, nor recked how soon affliction's goad might gore. XLIX. But who shall scan the future ? As we pace Along life's chequered route, we feel, we see On this world's surface— grief 's abiding place, All that there is of bliss or misery. In our brief passage, jocund lliough we be, Time soon may drug with pain our draught of joy. Dark is the prospect of futurity, And who shall tell what crosses may annoy ; What cares in comfort's spring may mix their foul alloy ! ^8 THE ISLAND BKIDE. [canto i. L. No one can know to what his clays may tend, Whether or smooth or rough his course shall run, Or how this mortal pilgrimage may end — So darkly is the wel) of heing spun. But God's decrees are wise ; and if our sun Of happiness grow dim, still wherefore fear ? That light which only in this world begun. Will brighter shine in an eternal sphere, Where bliss shall glad the more, the less our pleasure here. LI. Here oft, while joy's fresh flower is full in bloom, Misfortune's sickle sweeps it to the dust ; Woe springs to vigorous growth on pleasure's tomb. And gives her awful lesson of distrust. Though peace may reign awhile, the insidious rust Of latent sorrow oft will mar its ray; But wisdom knows, in all her knowledge just, This world 's the transient temple of decay — Here wretchedness and mirth must wear alike away. CANTO I.] THE ISLAND BRIDE. LII. 29 Where now are Troy and mightier Babylon ? On their proud site the earth is wild and bare — O'er them stern time has a full victory won, And they are mingled with the things that were. Thus works destruction ; from his secret lair He skulks abroad, to mar what man has made — Decay, slow mining, meets us everywhere. Earth's pageantries are fugitive — here fade All things alike — the debts of nature must be paid. LIII. Shall we then pine and fret because our lot Is not a blest one here, when sin, hell-born. O'er our fair destiny has cast her blot. And to the rose of bliss attached a thorn ? Nay, sinner, never tax thy God with scorn Of his own works ; if ills on earth assail, 'Tis thy guilt's penalty ; when thou art torn By that fierce vulture, conscience, — pause, and liail The chastening, and let virtue over vice prevail. 30 THE ISLAND BRIDE. frANTO i. LIV It was a wise decree that man should bear Affliction's burthen in this vale of tears : Were all enjoyment without grief or care, How would he pass the current of his years ? Seduced by pleasure, hailed by vice's cheers, Prurient desires would taint his easy heart. Alas ! what were our hopes without our fears ! There is a mercy in affliction's smart — It heals those wounds of sin which mock all human art. LV. Alas ! poor Bertha, little deemed she now That aught could mar the tenour of her rest ; Smooth as the polished mirror was her brow. For not a pang disturbed her gentle breast : Her guileless heart, which woe had ne'er opprest, Throbbed with no drear forebodings, for she felt Heaven's mercy, and the blessed boon confest — As yet her shock of suffering was not dealt, But sorrow soon found way where peace so calmly dwelt. fANTO T.] THE ISLAND BRIDE. 31 LVI. Eumcnes saw at lengtli the ripening bloom, Like moonlight on the stream, o'erspread her cheek : There glowed fresh health, and shed its soft perfume From lips that breathed such tones as angels speak. He watched the vivid fires of genius break From her dark eye, and busy hope began To gain a giant's strength, as fear grew weak. His cup of life with blessings now o'erran — He felt there was on earth at least one happy man. LVII. And was he thankless ? No ! his bosom glowed With a most holy rapture, and he gave The praise to Him who had alone bestowed Such unrequited blessings. To the grave He now looked forward, — when the solemn stave Should swell above his dust, — without a sigli. He had no further blessings here to crave, And his soul kindled in his heavenward eye As he poured forth his prayer to tlie great God on high. S2 THE ISLAND BRIDE. [canto t. LVIII. Of life he now had reached beyond the prime ; And though the snow of years had blanched his head, His powers had mocked the wasting might of time, And o'er his cheek health's colour yet was spread : Still was his gait erect, and firm his tread; Nor had the lines of age usui-ped his brow. O'er him content her sweetest influence shed, Nor had he any wants or wishes now, Except to hear his child pronounce the marriage vow. END OF CANTO I. CANTO ir. The hope whose cradle is of flowers That have but one sweet spring, May still be constant to our bowers, Though e\ er on the wing : And hopes that seem to pass away, Or share in the earth's blight, They change but as our hearts decay — Are constant, though less bright. Rev, Henry Stehbing. CANTO THE SECOND. Felices ler et amplius Quos irriipta tenet copula, iiec malis Divulsii^ querinioniis Supenia cUiiis solvet amor die. A STRANGER HOW was welcomcd at the cot, One who had quitted in his childhood's prime The dear hind of his birth, to trace his lot In other regions of a rouglior clime, Wliere oft refinement does but varnish crime.' There, whilst experience spread her varied store, Collected from tlie fruitful womb of time. He read her painful lessons o'er and o'er, To wisdom added much, but vet to virtue more. 36 THE ISLAND BRIDE. [canto ii. II. Amid the thronged communities of men Must knowledge be explored, experience gained r 'Tis from the tongue, as well as from the pen, That either must be sought, and both obtained. Where the young judgment, rash and unrestrained, Is ripe for service, it were well and wise To give it scope, nor hold too tightly reined. 'Tis mid the busy world we learn to prize, By contrast with its ills, the blessings of the skies. III. We live but for instruction f without this, What were the world and all its pageantries? For knowledge in the crown of human bliss Is its most radiant gem : tlie noblest ties That link this passing world's communities In fellowship, to knowledge all are due,^ And happiest they who are most truly wise. Religion will supply the ready clue To those who wisdom's maze with honest minds pursue. CANTO II.] THE ISLAND BRIDE. - 37 IV. Edgar was left an orphan by his sire Ere quickening thought had reason's sway confessed ; He recked it not, for then the glowing fire Of mind was in the s])ark — its Hght repi-essed. Eumenes now the hapless babe caressed, And by his care a parent's loss supplied ; The boy his infant gratitude expressed, And, witli a sense of what he owed him, tried To fix his guardian's love, nor was that love denied. V. His mother, at that agonizing hour AVhen the first curse assailed her fainting frame. Had yielded to his all-pervading power Who spares nor prince nor slave ; and when he came To cast her to the worms, and sweep her name From the fair annals of recording time, Her husband sank beneath the shock : the same Cold grave enshrouds them ; in their being's prime Both left this world of cares for heaven's eternal clime. 38 THE ISLAND BRIDE. [canto ii. VI. Eumenes mourned tliem with a brother's love ; . And, ere the fountain of his grief was dried, Like a protecting spirit from above Took to his home their offspring, and supplied The loss of sire and mother. Woe betide That stubborn lieart which melts not at the sight Of the poor orphan's tears ! — Young Edgar tried How his protector he might best requite, And did his kind behests with a most pure delight. VII. Quick sped the days of infancy along, Unchecked his joys by incidental ill, Till thought had birth and intellect grew strong, And gave a nobler impulse to tlie will. His guileless heart had no alarms to still. For who in childhood drinks woe's troubled spring? Bliss did its bounteous measure more than fill. And strewed the waste o'er time's unwearied wing, Who urged his steady flight unstayed, vmnoticing. CANTO II.] THE ISLAND BRIDE. VIII. His father to Eumenes had been dear, Both equal sharers in one painful birth. Twin-born, they loved and dotingly, nor fear Of guile in cither marred their nuitual worth, Till death — the mightiest tyrant upon earth — Broke the sweet union, and obscured the sun On joy's horizon : then contentment's dearth And pleasure's gloomier obsequies begun — Then o'er a brother's peace sorrow her victory won. IX. Eumenes, in his earlier years, had been A soldier, and his country's battles fought. Much hard and deadly service had he seen. And with his blood a dear experience bought : A gallant reputation he had sought Amid the scenes of carnage and of scathe. But earthly good is e'er with evil fraught; For, whilst his fame was ripening, slander's breath Cast o'er that fame a taint — more dreaded oft than death. 39 40 THE ISLAND BRIDE. [canto ii. He had deserved no slander, and her tongue Roused all the angry feelings of his soul ; They were most ardent then, for he was young, And his fierce passions under slight control. O'er his intrepid heart there quickly stole A deep and fixed resolve ; with flashing eye He sought the vile defamer, — for the whole Was envy's work, — threw in his teeth the lie. And dared him to the field his prowess there to try. XI. They fought ; the slanderer fell, and then, alas ! Remorse stung deeply the young soldier's breast. How death drowns all our enmities ! — they pass, Like whirlwinds spent, and sink at once to rest ! Eumenes now, by a new grief opprest — For on his soul there was a crimson stain — With deepest ruth his damning guilt confest. A burning fever fixed upon his brain. And his probed heart was wrung, nor was it wrung in vain. CANTO II.] THE ISLAND BRIDE. XII. There is for all a portion of distress ; The tenure by which human life is held Has this severe condition. Happiness Leaps from the grasp, and will not be compelled : Sometimes her false light shines, but scarce beheld Ere fades the bright delusion on the view. Where once the flickering meteor is dispelled, It were a vain endeavo\u- to pursue — Life 's but a maze at best, and this Eumenes knew. XIII. He left his country for a distant land, Where his cahn days were spent in sweet repose : Nor was it long ere he joined heart and hand To a young bride, and soon forgot his woes. Years thus past smoothly on, but misery chose Once more to bi-uise him when his Alice died. Bertha, though but an infant then, to close The angry wound, with artless effort, tried, And in her father's heart her mother's loss supplied. 41 42 THE ISLAND BRIDE. tCA^TO II- XIV. Such was young Edgar's guardian : he had been In suffering's severe ordeal tided, And therefore could for others feel, I ween. To whom heaven's poorest blessings were denied. His heart was ample as the world is wide. And pity, like a cherub, nestled there : As time pursued his hurried course, he sighed To think what woes are scattered everywhere Around this busy world, that feed the worm of care. XV. The infant Edgar, to his charge consigned. With fond concern he nourished as his own. And, like a father, wisely disciplined A trust so sacred on his bounty tlirown. Soon Edgar's years of infancy had flown. And boyhood's rosy blush his cheeks o'erspread ; Within his brain the seeds of wit were sown, And grew productive in that genial bed. Whilst books, with nurture fit, the rising harvest fed. CAXTO II.] THE ISLAND BRIDE. XVI. 43 Mark childhood's blessed era ! 'tis a dream Of sweet unconscioiiness — a living vision, Where in imagination's kindling beam The forms of fancy bask, as in derision Of all those ills which oft, in stern collision, Meet and condense their energies, and pour On some unconscious head, with fierce decision, The mingled torrent down ! — ^the sportive hour Of childhood 's ever free from misery's withering power ; XVII. For then we look not onward, then our views Are to the happy present all confined : Across our path no thorns affliction strews. And the young thoughts soar free as mountain wind : The soul is gentle as the heart is kind. For evil is a stranger to it then : To all that may be, innocently blind. Nothing but pleasure, how and where and when 'Twill smile, pervades it — wounded l)ut to lieal again. 44 THE ISLAND BRIDE. [canto ii. XVIII. There are no fretting heartaches then, to tell Of by-gone happiness ; the sparkling tear Which falls o'er childhood's cheek is not the knell Of pleasures just departed, nor of fear The doleful harbinger ; it is a mere Bright cloud that passes o'er a brighter sun, And leaves, or seems to leave, the disk more clear. Alas ! when infancy's brief course is run. Peace wraps her head in storms — the war of life 's begun. XIX. Oh ! I remember well — that hour, alas ! Is long since "numbered with the things o'erpast" — When in the future's ever-clouded glass I marked a scene of things not doomed to last ! Those pageants to the earth have long been cast Which in my youtliful f;xncy I had reared ; All have been levelled by the angry blast Of disappointment : still my heart is cheered. For hope's bright star is uji, from clouds and darkness cleared. CANTO II.] THE ISLAND BRIDE. XX. 45 And, Edgar, such thy childhood ! nothing then Clouded the prospect of thy future day ! Amid the quiet of tliy native glen Thy early years of boyhood passed away. Around thee an enchanting prospect lay, Nor didst thou look beyond for future pleasure ! Whether engaged in study or in play, Thy soul imbibed enjoyment without measure — To thee thy home was heaven, in sooth earth's sweetest treasure. XXI. The little Bertha was thy playmate when Fresh in the beauty of her babyhood : Together o'er the hill and through the glen Would ye both wander, till the mantling blood Tinged each fair cheek ; and oft, in sportive mood. Exchange — pure soiUs ! — the innocent caress. Ah ! it was then that guardian angels stood As nightly watchers your repose to bless, And all was bright around, for all was happiness. 46 THE ISLAND BRIDE. [canto ii. XXII. The stripling gi*ew in stature and in years — There was a glory brightening o'er his mind : Already on his open brow appears The fair-writ index of a soul refined ; Where virtue's artless feelings were combined With all that honour knew of good or great. His heart had not yet learned to be unkind, But at the cries of woe responsive beat ; For pity there had sought and found secure retreat, XXIII. But he was destined now for other scenes, Where he might trace, with an observant eye. The principles of men, their "ways and means," And learn to live, that he might learn to die. For "tis amidst the vast commimity That we can study best the heavenly plan, In all its wonderful variety, Displayed in that stupendous creature, man, Whose mind can grasp a world — whose life is but a span. THE ISLAND BRIDE. XXIV. 47 Such as have known how sad it is to leave The home they love; to look on all that's dear Foi- the last time, it may be, and bereave The heart of all it dotes on : not a tear To cool the burning throbs which tell how near 'Tis breaking, with the keenest anguish wrung ; — They who have felt all this, may fancy here What keen emotions Edgar's bosom stung, When in his anxious ear the farewell accents rung. XXV. Up to his throat the strong emotion leapt, And with a quick, convulsive agony Choked his free utterance ; for a while it kept The dry tongue mute, until a bursting sigh, Poured from the wrung breast's inmost cavity, Assuaged his torture, fierce, indeed, but brief. He scaixe could falter fortli the fond " good bye," But pressed his guardian's hand in silent grief, Till the big tear found way, and gave a short relief 48 THE ISLAND BRIDE. [cakto ii. XXVI. With heaving bosom and averted eye, He hurried from his guardian's warm embrace, And left, with many a melancholy sigh, Tlie lonely cot — his infant dwelling place. The scalding tears streamed down his cheeks apace, As his tongue faintly gave its last farewell. Towards ocean's liquid waste he turned his face, And saw the world's dark troubles in its swell — His heart's con^^.dsive throbs defied all power to quell. XXVII. Ten rapid years beneath a temperate sun, The orphan boy in swift improvement spent ; And, though his manhood's dawn had scarce begun. Yet genius had her best assistance lent To feed his mind with fruitful aliment. The happy period of return drew nigh, And soon dispelled all clouds of discontent : Bright gleams of promised bliss illumed his eye, As the horizon closed on Em-ope 's colder sky. CAVTo iT.l THE ISLAND BRIDE. 4!) XXVIII. How his young spirit leaped, when from the shore Swept the light pinnace, and the pebbly strand Faded before his view ! — the sullen roar Of the stern waters, foaming to the land, Poured music on his soul more sweet and bland Than the mild cm-few to the ploughman's ear. How his heart bounded when his eager hand Grasped the rough cordage, and, 'mid many a cheer, He spnmg upon the deck, and thought of raptures near. XXIX. Ah ! he remembers well the time gone by. When he left all he loved ; and the warm tear Now gathered slowly in each hope-lit eye, As towards his native land the ship drew near. Still to the heart there clung sometimes a fear. Lest he should never more his home regain : Oft-times, in spite of hope, forebo