Alas, forlorn, I gaze around: 60
Feeble, poor, and old, I stand,
A stranger in my native land!
My sable slave (ah, no! my only friend,
Whose steps upon my rugged path attend)
Sees, but with tenderness that fears to speak,
The tear that trickles down my aged cheek!
My harp is silent,--famine shrinks mine eye,--
"Give me a little food for charity!"[113]
[107] Inscribed to Lord Strangford.
[108] The faithful Indian who attended him in all his sorrows, a native
of Java.
[109] Antonio, "who begged alms through Lisbon, and at night shared the
produce with his broken-hearted master."--_Strangford's Preface._
[110] Crossing the Line.
[111] Lights called by the Portuguese _Corpo Sancto's_, supposed to be
the spirits of saints, hovering on the shrouds.
[112] The terrific Phantom of the Cape, described by Camoens.
[113] Camoens, the great poet of Portugal, is supposed to have gone to
the East Indies in the same ship with the first Discoverer, round the
Cape of Good Hope, Vasco de Gama. This is not the case, though he wrote
the noble poem descriptive of the voyage. He went to India some years
afterwards, but the general idea is sufficient for poetical purposes.
His subsequent sorrows and poverty, in his native land, are well known.
THE SYLPH OF SUMMER.[114]
God said, Let there be light, and there was light!
At once the glorious sun, at his command,
From space illimitable, void and dark,
Sprang jubilant, and angel hierarchies,
Whose long hosannahs pealed from orb to orb,
Sang, Glory be to Thee, God of all worlds!
Then beautiful the ball of this terrene
Rolled in the beam of first-created day,
And all its elements obeyed the voice
Of Him, the great Creator; Air, and Fire, 10
And Earth, and Water, each its ministry
Performed, whilst Chaos from his ebon throne
Leaped up; and so magnificent, and decked,
And mantled in its ambient atmosphere,
The living world began its state!
To thee,
Spirit of Air, I lift the venturous song,
Whose viewless presence fills the living scene,
Whose element ten thousand thousand wings
Fan joyous; o'er whose fields the morning clouds 20
Ride high; whose rule the lightning-shafts obey,
And the deep thunder's long-careering mar
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