My best and gentlest lady! even thus, THO AUTUMN. HOU comest, Autumn, heralded by the rain, With banners, by great gales incessant fanned, Brighter than brightest silks of Samarcand, And stately oxen harnessed to thy wain! Thou standest, like imperial Charlemagne, Upon thy bridge of gold; thy royal hand Outstretched with benedictions o'er the land, Blessing the farms through all thy vast domain. Thy shield is the red harvest moon, suspended So long beneath the heaven's o'erhanging eaves, Thy steps are by the farmer's prayers attended; Like flames upon an altar shine the sheaves; And, following thee, in thy ovation splendid, Thine almoner, the wind, scatters the golden leaves ! THE SECRET OF THE SEA. A H! what pleasant visions haunt me All the old romantic legends, All my dreams, come back to me. Sails of silk and ropes of sendal, And the answer from the shore! THE SECRET OF THE SEA. Most of all, the Spanish ballad Haunts me oft, and tarries long, Like the long waves on a sea-beach, Telling how the Count Arnaldos, How he heard the ancient helmsman Till his soul was full of longing, And he cried, with impulse strong, "Helmsman! for the love of heaven, Teach me, too, that wondrous song! ! "Wouldst thou," so the helmsman answered, "Learn the secret of the sea? Only those who brave its dangers Comprehend its mystery!" In each sail that skims the horizon, I behold that stately galley, Hear those mournful melodies; Till my soul is full of longing And the heart of the great ocean Sends a thrilling pulse through me. 53 Close, close it is pressed to the window, As if those childish eyes Were looking into the darkness, To see some form arise. And a woman's waving shadow Now rising to the ceiling, Now bowing and bending low. THE LIGHTHOUSE. What tale do the roaring ocean, And the night-wind, bleak and wild, And why do the roaring ocean, And the night-wind, wild and bleak, 55 THE THE LIGHTHOUSE. HE rocky ledge runs far into the sea, Even at this distance I can see the tides, Upheaving, break unheard along its base, A speechless wrath, that rises and subsides In the white lip and tremor of the face. And as the evening darkens, lo! how bright, Not one alone; from each projecting cape And perilous reef along the ocean's verge, Starts into life a dim, gigantic shape, Holding its lantern o'er the restless surge. Like the great giant Christopher it stands And the great ships sail outward and return, They wave their silent welcomes and farewells. They come forth from the darkness, and their sails Gleam for a moment only in the blaze, And eager faces, as the light unveils, Gaze at the tower, and vanish while they gaze. The mariner remembers when a child, On his first voyage, he saw it fade and sink; Steadfast, serene, immovable, the same Year after year, through all the silent night, Burns on forevermore that quenchless flame, Shines on that inextinguishable light! It sees the ocean to its bosom clasp The rocks and sea-sand with the kiss of peace; It sees the wild winds lift it in their grasp, And hold it up, and shake it like a fleece. The startled waves leap over it; the storm Smites it with all the scourges of the rain, And steadily against its solid form Press the great shoulders of the hurricane. The sea-bird wheeling round it, with the din A new Prometheus, chained upon the rock, |