Page:Pocahontas and Other Poems (NY).pdf/245

She listeneth coyly, and her guileless depths
Are troubled at a tender thought from thee.
And yet methinks some speech of love should dwell
In scenes so beautiful. For not in vain,
Nor with a feeble voice, doth He who spread
Such glorious charms bespeak man's kindliness
For all whom He hath made, bidding the heart
Grasp every creature, with a warm embrace
Of brotherhood.
                            Lo! what fantastic forms,
In sudden change, are traced upon the sky.
The sun doth subdivide himself, and shine
On either side of an elongate cloud,
Which, like an alligator huge and thin,
Pierceth his disk. And then an ostrich seem'd
Strangely to perch upon a wreath of foam,
And gaze disdainful on the kingly orb,
That lay o'erspent and weary. But he roused
Up as a giant, and the welkin glow'd
With rushing splendour, while his puny foes
Vanish'd in air. Old England's oaks outstretch'd
Their mighty arms, and took that cloudless glance
Into their bosoms, as a precious thing
To be remember'd long.
                                        And so we turn'd,
And through romantic glades pursued our way,
Where Rydal Water spends its thundering force,
And through the dark gorge makes a double plunge
Abruptly beautiful. Thicket, and rock,
And ancient summer-house, and sheeted foam
All exquisitely blent, while deafening sound
Of torrents battling with their ruffian foes