| |
A terrace overlooking the sea. Night.
PRINCE HENRY. IT is the sea, it is the sea, | |
| In all its vague immensity, | |
| Fading and darkening in the distance! | |
| Silent, majestical, and slow, | |
| The white ships haunt it to and fro, | 5 |
| With all their ghostly sails unfurled, | |
| As phantoms from another world | |
| Haunt the dim confines of existence! | |
| But ah! how few can comprehend | |
| Their signals, or to what good end | 10 |
| From land to land they come and go! | |
| Upon a sea more vast and dark | |
| The spirits of the dead embark, | |
| All voyaging to unknown coasts. | |
| We wave our farewells from the shore, | 15 |
| And they depart, and come no more, | |
| Or come as phantoms and as ghosts. | |
| |
| Above the darksome sea of death | |
| Looms the great life that is to be, | |
| A land of cloud and mystery, | 20 |
| A dim mirage, with shapes of men | |
| Long dead, and passed beyond our ken. | |
| Awe-struck we gaze, and hold our breath | |
| Till the fair pageant vanisheth, | |
| Leaving us in perplexity, | 25 |
| And doubtful whether it has been | |
| A vision of the world unseen, | |
| Or a bright image of our own | |
| Against the sky in vapors thrown. | |
| |
LUCIFER, singing from the sea. Thou didst not make it, thou canst not mend it, | 30 |
| But thou hast the power to end it! | |
| The sea is silent, the sea is discreet, | |
| Deep it lies at thy very feet; | |
| There is no confessor like unto Death! | |
| Thou canst not see him, but he is near; | 35 |
| Thou needst not whisper above thy breath, | |
| And he will hear; | |
| He will answer the questions, | |
| The vague surmises and suggestion, | |
| That fill thy soul with doubt and fear! | 40 |
| |
PRINCE HENRY. The fisherman, who lies afloat, | |
| With shadowy sail, in yonder hoat, | |
| Is singing softly to the Night! | |
| But do I comprehend aright | |
| The meaning of the words he sung | 45 |
| So sweetly in his native tongue? | |
| Ah yes! the sea is still and deep. | |
| All things within its bosom sleep! | |
| A single step, and all is o’er; | |
| A plunge, a bubble, and no more; | 50 |
| And thou, dear Elsie, wilt be free | |
| From martyrdom and agony. | |
| |
ELSIE, coming from her chamber upon the terrace. The night is calm and cloudless, | |
| And still as still can be, | |
| And the stars come forth to listen | 55 |
| To the music of the sea. | |
| They gather, and gather, and gather, | |
| Until they crowd the sky, | |
| And listen, in breathless silence, | |
| To the solemn litany. | 60 |
| It begins in rocky caverns, | |
| As a voice that chants alone | |
| To the pedals of the organ | |
| In monotonous undertone; | |
| And anon from shelving beaches, | 65 |
| And shallow sands beyond, | |
| In snow-white robes uprising | |
| The ghostly choirs respond. | |
| And sadly and unceasing | |
| The mournful voice sings on, | 70 |
| And the snow-white choirs still answer | |
| Christe eleison! | |
| |
PRINCE HENRY. Angel of God! thy finer sense perceives | |
| Celestial and perpetual harmonies! | |
| Thy purer soul, that trembles and believes, | 75 |
| Hears the archangel’s trumpet in the breeze, | |
| And where the forest rolls, or ocean heaves, | |
| Cecilia’s organ sounding in the seas, | |
| And tongues of prophets speaking in the leaves. | |
| But I hear discord only and despair, | 80 |
| And whispers as of demons in the air! | |
| |
