ODE TO NEPTUNE.

203

ODE TO NEPTUNE,

ON MRS. W- -'s VOYAGE TO ENGLAND.

BY PHILLIS WHEATLEY, an African slave in Boston, Oct. 10, 1772.

WHILE raging tempests shake the shore,

While Eolus' thunders round us roar,

And sweep impetuous o'er the plain,
Be still, O tyrant of the main ;

Nor let thy brow contracted frowns betray,
While my Susannah skims the watery way.

The Power propitious hears the lay,
The blue-eyed daughters of the sea
With sweeter cadence glide along,

And Thames responsive joins the song.

Pleased with their note, Sol sheds benign his ray, And double radiance decks the face of day.

To court thee to Britannia's arms,

Serene the clime and mild the sky;

Her region boasts unnumbered charms;

Thy welcome smiles in ev'ry eye.

Thy promise, Neptune, keep; record my prayer, Nor give my wishes to the empty air.

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DRIFTING.

My soul to-day

Is far away,

Sailing the Vesuvian Bay;

My winged boat,

A bird afloat,

Swims round the purple peaks remote:

Round purple peaks

It sails, and seeks

Blue inlets and their crystal creeks,
Where high rocks throw,

Through deeps below,

A duplicated golden glow.

Far, vague, and dim,

The mountains swim;

While on Vesuvius' misty brim,
With outstretched hands,

The gray smoke stands,
O'erlooking the volcanic lands.

Here Ischia smiles

O'er liquid miles;

And yonder, bluest of the isles,

Calm Capri waits,

Her sapphire gates

Beguiling to her bright estates.

DRIFTING.

I heed not, if
My rippling skiff

Float swift or slow from cliff to cliff;

With dreamful eyes

My spirit lies

Under the walls of Paradise.

Under the walls,

Where swells and falls

The Bay's deep breast at intervals,
At peace I lie,

Blown softly by,

A cloud upon this liquid sky.

The day, so mild,

Is Heaven's own child,

With Earth and Ocean reconciled;
The airs I feel

Around me steal

-

Are murmuring to the murmuring keel.

Over the rail

My hand I trail

Within the shadow of the sail,

A joy intense,

The cooling sense,

Glides down my drowsy indolence.

Yon deep bark goes

Where Traffic blows,

From lands of sun to lands of snows;

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This happier one

Its course is run

From lands of snow to lands of sun.

O happy ship,

To rise and dip,

With the blue crystal at your lip!

O happy crew,

My heart, with you,

Sails and sails and sings anew!

No more, no more

The worldly shore
Upbraids me with its loud uproar !
With dreamful eyes

My spirit lies

Under the walls of Paradise!

THOMAS BUCHANAN REED.

NIGHT ON THE NORTH SHORE.

ARK and light are mingled on the sea, on the shore,

DAR

Dark and light are mingled in my heart,

Broader streams the light-house the velvet waters o'er,
Tenderly the twilight tints depart.

Brighter gleam the lamps in a long, steady row,
Gliding boats are shining red and green,

And far adown the straits the familiar windows glow,
Calmly on the ripple lies their sheen.

RECOLLECTION.

Flashes keen the sickle as it sets in the west,
Jupiter a jewel in the blade;

Mars is red as love upon the Virgin's breast,
Bending low she hastens to the shade.
Rises now the Scorpion, with necklace of fire,
Downward slides a long, sudden ray.
Was it then a star or a firefly that came
Over all the soft Milky Way?

Majesty of color pulses on the night,
Streaming wide in glorious surprise!

Leaps up effulgence of em'rald, rose, and white!
Doth the New Jerusalem arise?

Palaces, and curtains, and sparry caverns vast,
Chrysolite columns upward roll,

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Ah! the light hath triumphed over darkness at last!
Light, too, hath triumphed in my soul.

LAURA WINTHROP JOHNSON.

RECOLLECTION.

A WAVE-WORN boulder with green sea-moss

wrapping

A silken mantle o'er its jagged sides; And silvery seething waters softly lapping Through gulfs and channels hollowed by the tides:

A lime-cliff overhead o'erhanging grimly,

A dash of sunlight on its breast of snow; The white line of the breakers stretching dimly Along the narrow sea-beach down below: