And, while I sing the animated smiles Oh! might the song awake some bright de- Inspire a touch, or prompt one happy line, And bless the lay that lent a charm to you! Have you not oft, in nightly vision, stray'd To the pure isles of ever-blooming shade, Which bards of old, with kindly magic plac'♣ For happy spirits in th' Atlantic waste ?* There as eternal gales, with fragrance warm, Breath'd from elysium through each shadowy form In eloquence of eye, and dreams of song, Nor yet in song, that mortal ear may suit, Where virtue waken'd with elysian breeze, * M. Gebelin says, in his Monde Primitif, "Lors. que Strabon crut que les anciens théologiens et Poetes placaient les Champs Elysées dans les isles de l'Océan Atlantique, il n'entendit rien à leur doctrine." M. Gebelin's supposition, I have no doubt, is the more correct; but that of Strabo is, in the present instance, most to my purpose. Believe me, Lady, when the zephyrs bland Floated our bark to this enchanted land, These leafy isles upon the ocean thrown, Like studs of emerald o'er a silver zone; Not all the charm, that ethnic fancy gave To blessed arbours o'er the western wave, Could wake a dream, more soothing or sublime, Of bowers etherial and the spirit's clime The morn was lovely, every wave was still, When the first perfume of a cedar-hill Sweetly awak'd us, and with smiling charms, The fairy harbour woo'd us to its arms.* Gently we stole, before the languid wind, Through plantain shades, that like an awning twin'd And kiss'd on either side the wanton sails, Breathing out welcome to these vernal vales; While, far reflected o'er the wave serene Each wooded island sheds so soft a green, That the enamour'd keel, with whispering play, Through liquid herbage seem'd to steal its way! Never did weary bark more sweetly glide, Or rest its anchor in a lovelier tide! *Nothing can be more romantic than the little harbour of St George. The number of beautiful islets, the singular clearness of the water, and the animated play of the graceful little boats, gliding for ever between the islands, and seeming to sail from one cedar-grove into another, form all together the sweetest miniature of nature that can be imagined. Along the margin, many a brilliant dome, And, while the foliage interposing play'd, Sweet airy being!† who, in brighter hours, Liv'd on the perfume of these honied bowers, * This is an illusion which, to the few who are fanciful enough to indulge in it, renders the scenery of Bermuda particularly interesting. In the short but beautiful twilight of their spring evenings, the white cottages scattered over the islands, and but partially seen through the trees that surround them, assume often the appearance of little Grecian temples, and fancy may embellish the poor fisherman's hut with columns which the pencil of Claude might imitate. I had one favourite object of this kind in my walks, which the hospitality of its owner robbed me of, by asking me to visit him. He was a plain good man, and received me well and warmly, but I never could turn his house into a Grecian temple again. Ariel. Among the many charms which Bermuda has for a poetic eye, we cannot for an instant forget that it is the scene of Shakspeare's Tempest, and that here he conjured up the " delicate Ariel," who alone is worth the whole heaven of ancient anythology. In velvet buds, at evening lov'd to lie, The sunny wave, the bower, the breezy hill, THE GENIUS OF HARMONY, AN IRREGULAR ODE. AD HARMONIAM CANERE MUNDUM. Cicero de Nat. Deor. Lib. 3.. There lies a shell beneath the waves, Echoed the breath that warbling sea-maid breath'd; This magic shell From the white bosom of a syren fell, Upon its shining side, the mystic notes * In the "Histoire naturelle des Antilles," there is an account of some curious shells, found at Curacoa, on the back of which were lines, filled with musical characters so distinct and perfect, that the writer assures us a very charming trio was sung from one of them. "On le nomme musical, parce qu'il porte sur le dos des lignes noirâtres pleines de notes, qui ont une espèce de clé pour les mettre en chant, de sorte que l'on dirait qu'il ne manque que la lettre à cette tablature naturelle. Ce curieux gentilhomme (M. du Montel) rapporte qu'il en a vu qui avaient cinq lignes, une clé et des notes, qui formaient un accord parfait. Quelqu'un y avait ajouté la lettre, que la nature avait oubliée, et la faisait chanter en forme de trio, dont l'air étate fort agréable." Chap. 19. Art. 11. The author adds, a poet might imagine that these shells were used by the syrens at their concerts. |