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, Nor let thy brow contracted frowns betray, The Power propitious hears the lay, 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. 14 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, Through deeps below, A duplicated golden glow. Far, vague, and dim, The mountains swim; While on Vesuvius' misty brim, The gray smoke stands, 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 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, Blown softly by, A cloud upon this liquid sky. The day, so mild, Is Heaven's own child, With Earth and Ocean reconciled; 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; 205 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 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, Brighter gleam the lamps in a long, steady row, And far adown the straits the familiar windows glow, RECOLLECTION. Flashes keen the sickle as it sets in the west, Mars is red as love upon the Virgin's breast, Majesty of color pulses on the night, Leaps up effulgence of em'rald, rose, and white! Palaces, and curtains, and sparry caverns vast, 207 Ah! the light hath triumphed over darkness at last! 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: |