Unknown - The Arctic Queen
U >>
Unknown >> The Arctic Queen
Even while his accents lingered, they were gone
By an obscure and solitary path,
Until they came upon some rough-hewn steps,
Which wandered round and down, interminable.--
A stairway leading to the upper world
For the ascent of gnomes, who dwelt beneath
In those huge tidal caves which underlaid
Old Thug, upheaved from earth in ancient times.
Silent the lovers fled; their locks grew wet
With mildew, and their breath came gaspingly.
A sound of gibbering gnomes, of elfish song--
Mingling high discords with the patient clink
Of instruments of toil--of laughter strange--
Warned them of the wild laborers they must meet.
A moment more, and the pale fugitives
Stood at the bottom of those countless steps,
Peering into the lowest deep of all.
A hell-like spot! and spirits of the doomed
Were scarce more haggard than the clumsy elves
Who here pursued their coarse and perilous toil.
'Tis in these horrible caverns, deep and wide,
Each day the ocean sinks, when, rushing round
With the swift world, he falls into this snare;
From whence with groans, and anger impotent,
He backward struggles to his bed of sand
And lies there panting; while the credulous earth,
Dreaming of love, looks on him with a smile,
Saying--"He pineth for the sweet-faced Moon;"--
Thus had he just receded, when the pair
Stood peering shuddering in, hearing afar
The painful sighs, which shook his savage breast.
The dwarfish elves, with waning lamps in hand,
Creeping like worms along the slimy floor,
Pursued the ebbing tide collecting spoils.
The lovers saw from what exhaustless mines
Were gathered up the overwhelming wealth--
The jewels and the curious costly toys
Which graced OENE and all her splendid court;
For there the sea,--forever wrecking treasures,
Gulping down golden argosies at once--
Leaves them behind him in his angry flight.
"Art thou afraid, my darling?" BERTHO asked--
"I'll bear thee safely through this hideous place.
Here LUCIFER, I think, must love to linger;
The shrieking of the ocean hath a sound
Like the united wail of hopeless souls;
Here darkness dwells in everlasting sleep;
For these poor, puny lights which wander round,
Scarce make the drowsy lashes of his lids
Tremble o'er his blind eyes;--the heated earth
Gives forth the odors of her burning heart,
In whose incessant fires her vitals wither.
See! where those wretched gnomes are dragging chests,
Banded with iron! most like, is heaped within
The ingots of some drowned West-Indian:
And look! ah heaven! how beautiful and strange,
To see the delicate corpse of this young girl
Like marble petrified, the raven hair
Grown rankly long, trailing around her limbs,
And clinging to her lovely, breathless breast!--
That rude dwarf clutching from her helpless hands
The jewels which some friend or lover gave.
If we had time to give our fancies range,
What a wild story we would make of this!"
Thrilling with pity, OLIVE hid her eyes.
Twelve hours of desperate flight, and they emerged
From darkness to a dead shore, shrouded white,--
Saw the green ocean rolling, saw the Sun,
Pale, like a wounded God, and weary, hang
Low in the southern sky--saw mountains crowned
With snow and fire--saw motionless cataracts
Hanging like frozen rainbows over chasms--
And icebergs settling downward towards the sun
As if to pierce him with their glist'ning spears.
Remotely, to the North, the Polar Sea
Hung like a roseate cloud along the sky
Fringing with lovely tints the dim horizon,
Holding unseen its island star within.
"A miracle!" quoth BERTHO; "Love, observe
How all these waves set from the shore, and glide
Like a broad river, 'twixt these frozen banks.
The current which ran northward with thy boat,
Has overtopped the Pole, and flows away,
A liquid belt, girdling the earth. Alas!
We have no trusty boat in which to launch,
Once more, our fortunes on the promising deep."
Wearied, they flung themselves upon the shore,
And, hand in hand, sat gazing on the sea
With home-sick longing. WOLE, the eager-eyed,
From his far height espied them where they sat,
And sent four of his people to their aid
(Such power hath youth and beauty through the world!)
Bearing a skiff, contrived of ribs of whales,
For frame work,--these, inwove with fibrous moss,
And lined with furs of savage Arctic beasts
Which he had slain. When, with this welcome gift
The slaves appeared, and bowed at OLIVE's feet,
The tears sprang to her eyes; her heart was touched
By this rude warrior's magnanimity.
They put to sea. Scarce were they free from land,
When, o'er the plain they saw OENE advance,
Alone and melancholy, to the shore.
Her anger was subdued by greater grief;
While something new and holier than sorrow
Restrained revenge. It was the Love Divine
Which sacrifices self to others' good.
Some word, Sir JOHN had uttered when her wrath
Would have consumed him, fell upon her heart
Like rain on a thirsty garden--there sprang up
The amaranthine flower of charity
Whose seed was dropped from heaven; the nameless pain,
The want, which she had ever felt, was gone;
She knew the immortal meaning of the Soul,
And blessed the speaker for the 'perfect work.'
Speedily from her sight they floated out;
But, long time, while gazing, they saw her stand
In desolate beauty, silent on the beach.
The plaintive music of a horn wound down
From WOLE's grey fortress; all the fading scene
Lay, like a sad thought in a musing breast
Called up by the enchantment of sweet sound--
A thought, no more--all,--save those lustrous eyes
Shining upon them like two troubled stars--
Vaguely receding into things that were:
While, high and low, in whispering melodies
Borne by the uncertain winds, a farewell came:--
Oh, when for love we pine
We sleep in bloomless bowers;
But Life is a thing divine
When the love we crave is ours.
Shut close your feathery wings
Ye silvery birds of snow--
Across the ocean's rippled rings
Let no wild tempest blow;
From valleys bleak and caverns hollow
Let no rude spirit dare to follow.
Oh, who hath drunk of love
Will drink forevermore;
While ever, the golden rim above,
The draught will bubble o'er.
Let no fierce storm assail
These lovers in their flight,
But only a soft and steady gale
Pursue them day and night;
Nor jutting rock nor whirlpool hollow
Can seize them while our wishes follow.
Oh, love is a singing bird
That flutters everywhere;
His music in our souls is heard,
Charming us unaware.
Over the restless sea
The while these lovers glide,
This bird will pour his music free
And soothe the sleepless tide:--
While tempests crouch in caverns hollow
Let this sweet bird the lovers follow.