THE INCHCAPE ROCK. So thick a haze o'erspreads the sky On the deck the Rover takes his stand, Quoth Sir Ralph, "It will be lighter soon, 125 "Canst hear," said one, "the breakers roar? For, methinks, we should be near the shore." "Now where we are I cannot tell, But I wish we could hear the Inchcape Bell." They hear no sound, the swell is strong; Though the wind hath fallen they drift along; Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock, "Oh, horror! it is the Inchcape Rock!" Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair, SOUTHEY. THE LIGHTHOUSE. THE rocky ledge runs far into the sea, A pillar of fire by night, of cloud by day. Even at this distance I can see the tides, And as the even darkens, lo! how bright, Through the deep purple of the twilight air, Beams forth the sudden radiance of its light, With strange, unearthly splendour in its glare. Not one alone; from each projecting cape, And perilous reef, along the ocean's verge, Starts into life a dim gigantic shape, Holding its lantern o'er the restless surge. Like the great giant, Christopher, it stands Upon the brink of the tempestuous wave, Wading far out among the rocks and sands, The night-o'ertaken mariner to save. THE LIGHTHOUSE. And the great ships sail outward and return, 127 They wave their silent welcomes and farewells. They come forth from the darkness, and their sails Gleam for a moment only in the blaze, And eager faces, as the night unveils, Gaze at the tower, and vanish while they gaze. The mariner remembers, when a child, On his first voyage, he saw it fade and sink; Steadfast, serene, immovable, the same It sees the ocean to its bosom clasp The rocks and sea-sand with the kiss of It sees the wild winds lift it in their grasp, And hold it up and shake it like a fleece. peace; The startled waves leap over it; the storm Press the great shoulders of the hurricane. The sea-bird wheeling round it, with the din Of wings, and winds, and solitary cries, Blinded and maddened by the light within, Dashes himself against the glare and dies. A new Prometheus, chained upon the rock, "Sail on!" it says, "sail on, ye stately ships! ODE TO THE LIGHTHOUSE OF MALTA. THE world in dreary darkness sleeps profound; The storm-clouds hurry on, by hoarse winds driven; And night's dull shades and spectral mists confound Earth, sea, and heaven! King of surrounding chaos! thy dim form ODE TO THE LIGHTHOUSE OF MALTA. 1.29 In vain the sea with thundering waves may peal, Thy flaming tongue proclaims, "Behold the shore!" And voiceless hails the weary pilot back, Whose watchful eyes, like worshippers, explore Thy shining track. Now silent night a gorgeous mantle wears,- While the pale mist, that thy pale brow enshrouds, In vain would veil thy diadem from sight, Whose form colossal seems to touch the clouds With starlike light. Ocean's perfidious waves may calmly sleep, And luring lights, far flashing o'er the deep, But thou, whose splendour dims each lesser beam, Whose firm, unmoved position might declare I |