Jacqueline. I. "T WAS Autumn; through Provence had ceased The vintage, and the vintage-feast. The sun had set behind the hill, 'The moon was up, and all was still, And from the convent's neighboring tower Flies from her home, the humble sphere Up rose St. Pierre, when morning shone ; By Turenne, when the Rhine ran blood; He slung his old sword by his side, And snatch'd his staff and rush'd to save; -Constance! Claudine! where were ye then? Then, and he shook his hoary head, And, as she pass'd her father's door, Oh! she was good as she was fair; Her voice, whate'er she said, enchanted Soon as the sun the glittering pane She, who would lead him where he went, At eve light up the chimney-nook, Which, when a tale is long, dispenses In her who mourn'd not, when they miss'd her With Frederic blowing bubbles in the sun; Nor spinning by the fountain-side, Barbe Bleue or Chaperon Rouge half-told Nor vandering up and down the wood, Where once a wild deer, wild no more, II. The day was in the golden west; And, curtain'd close by leaf and flower, The doves had cooed themselves to rest In Jacqueline's deserted bower; The doves that still would at her casement peck, That casement, underneath the trees, With dimpled cheeks and laughing eyes, St. Pierre sat by, nor saw nor smiled. And his heart told him he had dealt A father may awhile refuse; When her young blushes had reveal'd The ocean-wave, the mountain-wind; Or fix thy foot upon the ground To stop the planet rolling round. The light was on his face; and there You might have seen the passions driven- 1 Cantando "Io amo! Io amo!"-Tasso. Now he sigh'd heavily; and now, And look'd and bark'd and vanish'd through. 'Tis Jacqueline! "Tis Jacqueline!" Her little brother laughing cried. "I know her by her kirtle green, She comes along the mountain-side; Now turning by the traveller's seat,- Now kneeling, where the pathways meet, Who, for you told me on your knee, And true it was! And true the tale! My father-if not for his own, Inly he vow'd-"'t was all he could!" They loved-but under Friendship's name 1 Argus. 2 Called in the language of the country pas de l'Echelle. The day was named, the guests invited; III. That morn ('t was in Ste Julienne's cell, That morn, ere many a star was set, -And now the village gleams at last; So saying, through the fragrant shade While Manchon round and round her play'd: (When Lubin calls, and Blanche steals round, Her finger on her lip, to see; And many an acorn-cup is found Under the greenwood tree) From every cot above, below, Sabot, and coif, and collerette, The housewife's prayer, the grandam's blessing! Babes that had learnt to lisp her name, But what felt D'Arcy, when at length Her father's gate was open flung? Ah, then he found a giant's strength; For round him, as for life, she clung! And when, her fit of weeping o'er, Onward they moved a little space, And saw an old man sitting at the door, Saw his wan cheek, and sunken eye That seem'd to gaze on vacancy, Then, at the sight of that beloved face, At once to fall upon his neck she flew; But not encouraged-back she drew, And trembling stood in dread suspense, Her tears her only eloquence! All, all the while-an awful distance keeping: Then Jacqueline the silence broke. While D'Arcy as before look'd on, "His praises from your lips I heard, She, whom in joy, in grief you nursed; On her you thought-but to be kind! Oh are they gone from yours? Two kneeling at your feet behold; One-one how young ;-nor yet the other old. Her bridal be her dying day. Well, well might she believe in you!- He shook his aged locks of snow; When she implored, and old Le Roc consented Yet once I loved him as my own! -Nor can'st thou, D'Arcy, feel resentment long; And that dear Saint-may she once more descend Had Louis' then before the gate dismounted, 1 Louis the Fourteenth. 2 Alluding to a popular story related of Henry the Fourth of France; similar to ours of "The King and Miller of Mansfield." The Voyage of Columbus. PREFACE. THE following Poem (or to speak more properly, what remains of it') has here and there a lyrical turn of thought and expression. It is sudden in its transitions, and full of historical allusions; leaving much to be imagined by the reader. The subject is a voyage the most memorable in the annals of mankind. Columbus was a person of extraordinary virtue and piety, acting under the sense of a divine impulse; and his achievement the discovery of a New World, the inhabitants of which were shut out from the light of Revelation, and given up, as they believed, to the dominion ef malignant spirits. Many of the incidents will now be thought extravagant; yet they were once perhaps received with something more than indulgence. It was an age of miracles; and who can say that among the venerable legends in the library of the Escurial, or the more authentic records which fill the great chamber in the Archivo of Simancas, and which relate entirely to the deep tragedy of America, there are no volumes that mention the marvellous things here described? Indeed the story, as already told throughout Europe, admits of no heightening. Such was the religious enthusiasm of the early writers, that the Author had only to transfuse it into his verse; and he appears to have done little more; though some of the circumstances which he alludes to as well known, have long ceased to be so. By using the language of that day, he has called up Columbus "in his habit as he lived," and the authorities, such as exist, are care fully given by the Translator. INSCRIBED ON THE ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPT. UNCLASP me, Stranger; and unfold, In RABIDA'S monastic fane, I cannot ask, and ask in vain. The language of Castile I speak; Shakspeare. Yet here, in consecrated dust, One hallow'd morn, methought, I felt To me one little hour devote, PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. THERE is a spirit in the old Spanish Chroniclers of the sixteenth century that may be compared to the freshness of water at the fountain-head. Their simplicity, their sensibility to the strange and the wonderful, their very weaknesses, give an infinite value, by giving a life and a character to every thing they touch; and their religion, which bursts out everywhere, addresses itself to the imagination in the highest degree. If they err, their errors are not their own. They think and feel after the fashion of the time; and their narratives are so many moving pictures of the actions, manners, and thoughts of their contemporaries. What they had to communicate, might well make them eloquent; but, inasmuch as relates to Columbus, the inspiration went no farther. No National Poem appeared on the subject; no Camoëns did honor to his Genius and his Virtues. Yet the materials, that have descended to us, are surely not unpoetical; and a desire to avail myself of them, to convey in some instances as far as I could, in others as far as I dared, their warmth of coloring and wildness of imagery, led me to conceive the idea of 1 The Original, in the Castilian language, according to the inscription that follows, was found among other MSS. in an old religious house near Palos, situated on an island formed by the river Tinto, and dedicated to our Lady of Rábida. The writer describes himself as having sailed with Columbus; but his a Poem written not long after his death, when the style and manner are evidently of an after-time. great consequences of the Discovery were beginning And ere his coming sung on either shore, to unfold themselves, but while the minds of men Him, by the Paynim bard descried of yore, (1 To justify the ways of God to Men. THE ARGUMENT. * "Twas night. The Moon, o'er the wide wave, dis closed Her awful face; and Nature's self reposed; When, slowly rising in the azure sky, Three white sails shone-but to no mortal eye, Entering a boundless sea. In slumber cast, Columbus, having wandered from kingdom to king- The very ship-boy, on the dizzy mast, dom, at length obtains three ships and sets sail on the Half breathed his orisons! Alone unchanged, Atlantic. The compass alters from its ancient direc- Calmly, beneath, the great Commander (2) ranged tion; the wind becomes constant and unremitting; Thoughtful, not sad; and, as the planet grew, night and day he advances, till he is suddenly stop- His noble form, wrapt in his mantle blue, ped in his course by a mass of vegetation, extending Athwart the deck a deepening shadow threw. as far as the eye can reach, and assuming the ap-Thee hath it pleased--Thy will be done!" he said, (3 pearance of a country overwhelmed by the sea. Then sought his cabin; and, their capas' spread, Alarm and despondence on board. He resigns him- Around him lay the sleeping as the dead, self to the care of Heaven, and proceeds on his When, by his lamp, to that mysterious Guide, voyage; while columns of water move along in his On whose still counsels all his hopes relied, path before him. That Oracle to man in mercy given, Meanwhile the deities of America assemble in Whose voice is truth, whose wisdom is from heaven, (4. council; and one of the Zemi, the gods of the island- Who over sands and seas directs the stray, ers, announces his approach. "In vain," says he," have And, as with God's own finger, points the way, we guarded the Atlantic for ages. A mortal has He turn'd; but what strange thoughts perplex'd his sou baffled our power; nor will our votaries arm against When, lo, no more attracted to the Pole, him. Yours are a sterner race. Hence; and, while The Compass, faithless as the circling vane, we have recourse to stratagem, do you array the na- Flutter'd and fix'd, flutter'd and fix'd again! tions round your altars, and prepare for an extermi- At length, as by some unseen hand imprest nating war." They disperse while he is yet speaking; It sought with trembling energy the West!? and, in the shape of a condor, he directs his flight to " Ah no," he cried, and calm'd his anxious brow, the fleet. His journey described. He arrives there.« Ill, nor the signs of ill, 'tis thine to show, A panic. A mutiny. Columbus restores order; continues on his voyage; and lands in a New World. Ceremonies of the first interview. Rites of hospitality. The ghost of Cazziva. Two months pass away, and an Angel, appearing in a dream to Columbus, thus addresses him; "Return to Europe; though your Adversaries, such is the will of Heaven, shall let loose the hurricane against you. A little while shall they triumph; insinuating themselves into the hearts of your followers, and making the World, which you came to bless, a scene of blood and slaughter. Yet is there cause for rejoicing. Your work is done. The cross of Christ is planted here; and, in due time, all things shall be made perfect!" CANTO I. Night-Columbus on the Atlantic-the Variation of the Compass, etc. WHO the great Secret of the Deep possess'd And, issuing through the portals of the West, Fearless, resolved, with every sail unfurl'd Planted his standard on the Unknown World? 1 Perhaps even a contemporary subject should not be rejected as such, however wild and extravagant it may be, if the manners be foreign and the place distant-major e longinquo reverentia. "L'éloignement des pays." says Racine, "répare en quelque sorte la trop grande proximité des temps; car le peuple ne met guère de différence entre ce qui est, si j'ose ainsi parler, à mille ans de lui, et ce qui en est à mille lieues." Thine but to lead me where I wish'd to go!" Columbus err'd not. (5) In that awful hour, |