Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

129

THE BUCCANEER.

BY RICHARD H. DANA.

'Boy with thy blac berd,
I red that thou blin,

And sone set the to shrive,
With sorrow of thi syn;
Ze met with the marchandes
And made tham sul bar;

It es gude reason and right
That ze evill misfare.'

The island lies nine leagues away.
Along its solitary shore,

Of craggy rock and sandy bay,

No sound but ocean's roar,

[Lawrence Minot.

Save, where the bold, wild sea-bird makes her home, Her shrill cry coming through the sparkling foam.

But when the light winds lie at rest,

And on the glassy, heaving sea,
The black duck, with her glossy breast,
Sits swinging silently;

How beautiful! no ripples break the reach,
And silvery waves go noiseless up the beach.

And inland rests the green, warm dell;

The brook comes tinkling down its side;
From out the trees the Sabbath bell

Rings cheerful, far and wide,
Mingling its sound with bleatings of the flocks,
That feed about the vale among the rocks.

Nor holy bell, nor pastoral bleat

In former days within the vale;
Flapped in the bay the pirate's sheet;

Curses were on the gale;

Rich goods lay on the sand, and murdered men;
Pirate and wrecker kept their revels then.

But calm, low voices, words of grace,
Now slowly fall upon the ear;

A quiet look is in each face,

Subdued and holy fear:

Each motion gentle; all is kindly done-
Come, listen, how from crime this isle was won.

[blocks in formation]

II.

Cruel of heart, and strong of arm,

Loud in his sport, and keen for spoil, He little recked of good or harm, Fierce both in mirth and toil;

Yet like a dog could fawn, if need there were: Speak mildly, when he would, or look in fear. III.

Amid the uproar of the storm,

And by the lightning's sharp, red glare, Were seen Lee's face and sturdy form; His axe glanced quick in air;

Whose corpse at morn is floating in the sedge? There's blood and hair, Mat, on thy axe's edge.

IV.

"Nay, ask him yonder; let him tell;

I make the brute, not man, my mark.
Who walks these cliffs, needs heed him well!
Last night was fearful dark.

Think ye the lashing waves will spare or feel?
An ugly gash!-These rocks-they cut like steel.”

V.

He wiped his axe; and turning round, Said with a cold and hardened smile, "The hemp is saved-the man is drowned. Wilt let him float awhile?

Or give him Christian burial on the strand? He'll find his fellows peaceful 'neath the sand."

[blocks in formation]

XII.

Within a Spanish port she rides.

Angry and soured, Lee walks her deck. "Then peaceful trade a curse betides?

And thou, good ship, a wreck!

Ill luck in change! Ho! cheer ye up my men! Rigged, and at sea, we 'll to old work again!" XIII.

A sound is in the Pyrenees!

Whirling and dark, comes roaring down A tide, as of a thousand seas,

Sweeping both cowl and crown

On field and vineyard, thick and red it stood. Spain's streets and palaces are wet with blood.

[blocks in formation]

XVII.

Lee feigned him grieved, and bowed him low.
'Twould joy his heart could he but aid
So good a lady in her woe,

He meekly, smoothly said.

With wealth and servants she is soon aboard,
And that white steed she rode beside her lord.

XVIII.

The sun goes down upon the sea;

The shadows gather round her home. "How like a pall are ye to me!

My home, how like a tomb!

O! blow, ye flowers of Spain, above his head. Ye will not blow o'er me when I am dead."

XIX.

And now the stars are burning bright;

Yet still she 's looking toward the shore Beyond the waters black in night.

"I ne'er shall see thee more!

Ye 're many, waves, yet lonely seems your flow; And I'm alone-scarce know I where I go."

XX.

Sleep, sleep, thou sad one, on the sea!
The wash of waters lulls thee now;
His arm no more will pillow thee,
Thy fingers on his brow.

He is not near, to hush thee, or to save.
The ground is his-the sea must be thy grave.

XXI.

The moon comes up; the night goes on. Why, in the shadow of the mast, Stands that dark, thoughtful man alone? Thy pledge, man; keep it fast! Bethink thee of her youth and sorrows, Lee; Helpless, alone-and, then, her trust in thee.

XXII.

When told the hardships thou hadst borne,
Her words to thee were like a charm.
With uncheered grief her heart is worn;
Thou wilt not do her harm!

He looks out on the sea that sleeps in light,
And growls an oath-" It is too still to-night!"
XXIII.

He sleeps; but dreams of massy gold,

And heaps of pearl. He stretched his hands.
He hears a voice-" Ill man withhold!"
A pale one near him stands.

Her breath comes deathly cold upon his cheek;
Her touch is cold. He wakes with piercing shriek.

XXIV.

He wakes; but no relentings wake

Within his angry, restless soul.

"What, shall a dream Mat's purpose shake? The gold will make all whole.

Thy merchant trade had nigh unmanned thee, lad! What, baulk my chance because a woman's sad?"

XXV.

He cannot look on her mild eye;

Her patient words his spirit quell.
Within that evil heart there lie

The hates and fears of hell. ·

His speech is short; he wears a surly brow.

There's none will hear her shriek. What fear ye now?

XXVI.

The workings of the soul ye fear;

Ye fear the power that goodness hath;

Ye fear the Unseen One, ever near,

Walking his ocean path.

From out the silent void there comes a cry

"Vengeance is mine! Thou, murderer, too shalt die!"

XXVII.

Nor dread of ever-during woe,

Nor the sea's awful solitude,

Can make thee, wretch, thy crime forego.
Then, bloody hand,-to blood!

The scud is driving wildly over head;

The stars burn dim; the ocean moans its dead.

[ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

It ceased. With speed o'th' lightning's flash,
A loose-robed form, with streaming hair,
Shoots by.-A leap-a quick, short splash!
'Tis gone!-There's nothing there!

The waves have swept away the bubbling tide.
Bright-crested waves, how calmly on they ride!
XXXIV.

She's sleeping in her silent cave.

Nor hears the stern, loud roar above,
Nor strife of man on land or wave.

Young thing! her home of love

She soon has reached!-Fair unpolluted thing!
They harmed her not!-Was dying suffering?

[blocks in formation]

XXXIX.

"And when it passed there was no tread!

It leapt the deck.-Who heard the sound?
I heard none !-Say, what was it fled?-
Poor girl!-And is she drowned?-

Went down these depths? How dark they look, and cold!
She's yonder! stop her!-Now!-there!-hold her, hold!"
XL.

They gazed upon his ghastly face.

"What ails thee, Lee; and why that glare?" "Look! ha, 'tis gone, and not a trace!

No, no, she was not there!

Who of you said ye heard her when she fell? 'Tis strange!-I'll not be fooled!-Wil! no one tell?"

[blocks in formation]
[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

LXI.

It scares the sea-birds from their nests;

They dart and wheel with deaf'ning screams;
Now dark-and now their wings and breasts
Flash back disastrous gleams.

O, sin, what hast thou done on this fair earth?
The world, O man, is wailing o'er thy birth.
LXII.

And what comes up above the wave,

So ghastly white?-A spectral head!—
A horse's head!-(May heaven save

Those looking on the dead

The waking dead.) There, on the sea, he standsThe Spectre-Horse!-He moves; he gains the sands!

LXIII.

Onward he speeds. His ghostly sides
Are streaming with a cold, blue light.
Heaven keep the wits of him who rides
The spectre-horse to-night!

His path is shining like a swift ship's wake;
Before Lee's door he gleams like day's gray break.
LXIV.

The revel now is high within;

It breaks upon the midnight air.
They little think, mid mirth and din,
What spirit waits them there.

As if the sky became a voice, there spread
A sound to appal the living, stir the dead.
LXV.

The spirit-steed sent up the neigh.

It seemed the living trump of hell,
Sounding to call the damned away,
To join the host that fell.

It rang along the vaulted sky: the shore
Jarred hard, as when the thronging surges roar.
LXVI.

It rang in ears that knew the sound;

And hot, flushed cheeks are blanched with fear. And why does Lee look wildly round? Thinks he the drowned horse near? He drops the cup-his lips are stiff with fright. Nay, sit thee down! It is thy banquet night. LXVII.

"I cannot sit. I needs must go:

The spell is on my spirit now.

I go to dread-I go to woe!"

O, who so weak as thou,

Strong man!-His hoof upon the door-stone, see, The shadow stands !-His eyes are on thee, Lee!

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

LXII.

Through that cold light the fearful man
Sits looking on the burning ship.
He ne'er again will curse and ban.
How fast he moves the lip!

And yet he does not speak, or make a sound!
What see you, Lee? the bodies of the drowned?
LXXIII.

"I look, where mortal man may not

Into the chambers of the deep.

I see the dead, long, long forgot;
I see them in their sleep.

A dreadful power is mine, which none can know,
Save he who leagues his soul with death and wee."

LXXIV.

Thou mild, sad mother-waning moon,

Thy last, low, melancholy ray

Shines toward him. Quit him not so soon!
Mother, in mercy, stay!

Despair and death are with him; and canst thou,
With that kind, earthward look, go leave him now?

LXXV.

O, thou wast born for things of love;
Making more lovely in thy shine
Whate'er thou look'st on. Hosts above,

In that soft light of thine,

Burn softer:-earth, in silvery veil, seems heaven. Thou 'rt going down!-hast left him unforgiven!

LXXVI.

The far, low west is bright no more.

How still it is! No sound is heard
At sea, or all along the shore,
But cry of passing bird.

Thou living thing-and dar'st thou come so near
These wild and ghastly shapes of death and fear?

LXXVII.

Now long that thick, red light has shone

On stern, dark rocks, and deep, still bay, On man and horse that seem of stone,

So motionless are they.

But now its lurid fire less fiercely burns:
The night is going-faint, gray dawn returns.
LXXVIII.

That spectre-steed now slowly pales;
Now changes like the moonlit cloud;
That cold, thin light, now slowly fails,
Which wrapt them like a shroud.
Both ship and horse are fading into air.-
Lost, mazed, alone-see, Lee is standing there!

[blocks in formation]

LXXXIII.

Go, get thee home, and end thy mirth!

Go, call the revellers again!
They're fled the isle; and o'er the earth

Are wanderers like Cain.

As he his door-stone past, the air blew chill.
The wine is on the board; Lee, take thy fill!
LXXXIV.

"There's none to meet me, none to cheer:
The seats are empty-lights burnt out;
And I alone, must sit me here:

Would I could hear their shout!"

He ne'er shall hear it more-more taste his wine! Silent he sits within the still moonshine.

LXXXV.

Day came again; and up he rose,
A weary man from his lone board;
Nor merry feast, nor sweet repose

Did that long night afford.

No shadowy-coming night, to bring him rest-
No dawn, to chase the darkness of his breast!
LXXXVI.

He walks within the day's full glare

A darkened man. Where'er he comes, All shun him. Children peep and stare; Then, frightened, seek their homes. Through all the crowd a thrilling horror ran. They point and say-" There goes the wicked man!"

LXXXVII.

He turns and curses in his wrath

Both man, and child; then hastes away Shoreward, or takes some gloomy path; But there he cannot stay:

Terror and madness drive him back to men; His hate of man to solitude again.

LXXXVIII.

Time passes on, and he grows bold-
His eye is fierce, his oaths are loud;
None dare from Lee the hand withhold;
He rules and scoffs the crowd.

But still at heart there lies a secret fear;

For now the year's dread round is drawing near.

LXXXIX.

He swears but he is sick at heart;
He laughs, but he is deadly pale;
His restless eye and sudden start-
These tell the dreadful tale

That will be told: it needs no words from thee,
Thou self-sold slave to fear and misery.

XC.

Bond-slave of sin, see there-that light!
"Ha! take me-take me from its blaze!"
Nay, thou must ride the steed to-night!
But other weary days

And nights must shine and darken o'er thy head,'
Ere thou shalt go with him to meet the dead.

XCI.

Again the ship lights all the land;
Again Lee strides the spectre-beast;
Again upon the cliff they stand.

This once he'll be released

Gone horse and ship; but Lee's last hope is o'er; Nor laugh, nor scoff, nor rage, can help him more.

XCII.

His spirit heard that spirit say,
"Listen!-I twice have come to thee.
Once more-and then a dreadful way!
And thou must go with me!"

Ay, cling to earth as sailor to the rock!
Sea-swept, suck'd down in the tremendous shock,

ХСІІІ.

He goes! So thou must loose thy hold,

And go with Death; nor breathe the balm Of early air, nor light behold,

Nor sit thee in the calm

Of gentle thoughts, where good men wait their close. In life, or death, where look'st thou for repose?

XCIV.

Who's sitting on that long, black ledge,
Which makes so far out in the sea.
Feeling the kelp-weed on its edge?

Poor, idle Matthew Lee!

So weak and pale? A year and little more
And bravely did he lord it round this shore!
XCV.

And on the shingles now he sits,

And rolls the pebbles 'neath his hands;
Now walks the beach, then stops by fits,

And scores the smooth wet sands;

Then tries each cliff, and cove, and jut that bounds The isle; then home from many weary rounds.

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]
« AnteriorContinuar »