But, oh! the sights and sounds of dread
That shockt her ere her senses fled!
The yawning deck--the crowd that strove
Upon the tottering planks above--
The sail whose fragments, shivering o'er
The stragglers' heads all dasht with gore
Fluttered like bloody flags--the clash
Of sabres and the lightning's flash
Upon their blades, high tost about
Like meteor brands[249]--as if throughout
The elements one fury ran,
One general rage that left a doubt
Which was the fiercer, Heaven or Man!
Once too--but no--it could not be--
'Twas fancy all--yet once she thought,
While yet her fading eyes could see
High on the ruined deck she caught
A glimpse of that unearthly form,
That glory of her soul,--even then,
Amid the whirl of wreck and storm,
Shining above his fellow-men,
As on some black and troublous night
The Star of EGYPT,[250] whose proud light
Never hath beamed on those who rest
In the White Islands of the West,
Burns thro' the storm with looks of flame
That put Heaven's cloudier eyes to shame.
But no--'twas but the minute's dream--
A fantasy--and ere the scream
Had half-way past her pallid lips,
A death-like swoon, a chill eclipse
Of soul and sense its darkness spread
Around her and she sunk as dead.
How calm, how beautiful comes on
The stilly hour when storms are gone,
When warring winds have died away,
And clouds beneath the glancing ray
Melt off and leave the land and sea
Sleeping in bright tranquillity,--
Fresh as if Day again were born,
Again upon the lap of Morn!--
When the light blossoms rudely torn
And scattered at the whirlwind's will,
Hang floating in the pure air still,
Filling it all with precious balm,
In gratitude for this sweet calm;--
And every drop the thundershowers
Have left upon the grass and flowers
Sparkles, as 'twere that lightning-gem[251]
Whose liquid flame is born of them!
When, 'stead of one unchanging breeze,
There blow a thousand gentle airs
And each a different perfume bears,--
As if the loveliest plants and trees
Had vassal breezes of their own
To watch and wait on them alone,
And waft no other breath than theirs:
When the blue waters rise and fall,
In sleepy sunshine mantling all;
And even that swell the tempest leaves
Is like the full and silent heaves
Of lovers' hearts when newly blest,
Too newly to be quite at rest.
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