sunset along the shores of Sicily, and its effect may

Note 56, page 32, col. 1. be better conceived than described. See BRYDONE, I,

What long-drawn tube, etc. 330.

For the effects of the telescope, and the mirror, on Note 48, page 31, col. 2.

an uncultivated mind, see Wallis's Voyage round Chosen of Men!

the World, c. 2 and 6. I believe that he was chosen for this great service; and that, because he was to be so truly an apostle, as

Note 57, page 32, col. 2. in effect he proved to be, therefore was his origin ob

Through citron-groves, and fields of yellow maize. scure; that therein he might resemble those who Ætas est illis aurea. Apertis vivunt hortis. P.MARwere called to make known the name of the Lord TYR, dec. i, 3. from seas and rivers, and not from courts and palaces.

Note 58, page 32, col. 2. And I believe also, that, as in most of his doings he

Ceiba. was guarded by some special providence, his very The wild cotton-tree, often mentioned in History. name was not without some mystery: for in it is ex- “Cortes,” says Bernal Diaz, “ took possession of the pressed the wonder he performed ; inasmuch as he country in the following manner. Drawing his sword, conveyed to a new world the grace of the Holy he gave three cuts with it into a great Ceiba, and Ghost, etc.-F. COLUMBUS, C. 1.

said

Note 59, page 32, col. 2.
Note 49, page 31, col. 2.

There sits the bird that speaks !
First from the prow to hail the glimmering light.
A light in the midst of darkness, signifying the mal. viii, 12.

The Parrot, as described by Aristolle.—Hist. Ami spiritual light that he came to spread there.-F. Co. LUMBUS, C. 22. HERRERA, I, i, 12.

Note 60, page 32, col. 2.

Half bird, half fly.
Note 50, page 32, col. 1.

Here are birds so small, says Herrera, that thongh
Pedro! Rodrigo !

they are birds, they are taken for bees or butterflies Pedro Gutierrez, a Page of the King's Chamber; Rodrigo Sanchez of Segovia, Comptroller of the Fleet.

Note 61, page 32, col. 2.

-the fairy king of flowers. Note 51, page 32, col. 1.

The Humming-bird. Kakopit (florum regulus) is Slowly, bare-headed, through the surf we bore the name of an Indian bird, referred to this class by The sacred cross.

Seba. Signifying to the Infernal powers (all' infierno todo)

Note 62, page 32, col. 2. the will of the Most High, that they should renounce

Reigns there, and revels, etc. a world over which they had tyrannized for so many

There also was heard the wild cry of the Flamingo ages.-OVALLE, iv, 5.

What clarion winds along the yellow sands!

Far in the deep the giant-fisher stands,
Note 52, page 32, col. 1.

Folding his wings of flame.
But what a scene was there!

Note 63, page 32, col. 2.
* This country excels all others, as far as the day Soon in the virgin's graceful ear to shine.
surpasses the night in splendor.—Nor is there a better

sert après sa mort a parer les jeunes Indiennes, people in the world. They love their neighbor as qui portent en pendans d'oreilles deux de ces char themselves; their conversation is the sweetest imagin- mans oiseaux.—Buffon. able, their faces always smiling: and so gentle, so affectionate are they, that I swear to your Highnesses,"

Note 64, page 32, col. 2. etc.-F. COLUMBUS, c. 30, 33.

'Mid branching palms and amaranths of gold!

According to an ancient tradition. See Oviedo Note 53, page 32, col. 1

Vega, Herrera, etc. Not many years afterwards a -Nymphs of romance, etc.

Spaniard of distinction wandered everywhere in Dryades formosissimas, aut nativas fontium nym- search of it: and no wonder, as Robertson observes, phas de quibus fabulatur antiquitas, se vidisse arbi- when Columbus himself could imagine that he had trati sunt.-P. MARTYR, dec. i, lib. r.

found the seat of Paradise. And an eminent Painter of the present day, when he first saw the Apollo of the Belvidere, was struck

Note 65, page 33, col. 1. with its resemblance to an American warrior.

And guaras blush'd as in the vales of light. West's Discourse in the Royal Academy, 1794.

They believed that the souls of good men were

conveyed to a pleasant valley, abounding in guavas Note 54, page 32, col. 1.

and other delicious fruits.-HERRERA, I, iii, 3. F.CoAnd see, the regal plumes, the couch of state! LUMBUS, C. (2. “The Cacique came down to the shore in a sort

Note 66, page 33, col. 1. of palanquin-attended by his ancient men.—The There silent sate many an unbidden Guest. gifts

, which he received from me, were afterwards * The dead walk abroad in the night, and feast carried before him."-F. COLUMBUS, c. 32. with the living" (F. COLUMBUS, C. 62); and eat of Note 55, page 32, col. 1.

the fruit called Guannàba.”—P. Martyr, dec. i, 9. The wondrou ring, and lamp, and horse or brass.

Note 67, page 33, col. 1. The ring of Gvges, the lamp of Aladdin, and the And sires, alas their sons in battle slain : horse of the Tartar king.

War rererses the order of nature. In time of peace,

46

ܪ

says Herodotus, the children bury their fathers; in

Note 79, page 33, col. 2. time of war the fathers bury their children! But the

Thy reverend form. Gods have willed it 801, 87.

His person, says Herrera, had an air of grandeur Note 68, page 33, col. 1.

His hair, from many hardships, had long been grey.

In him you saw a man of an unconquerable courage, Cazziva. An ancient Cacique, in his life-time and after his sity, ever trusting in God :-and, had he lived in an

and high thoughts ; patient of wrongs, calm in adverdeath, employed by the Zemi to alarm his people.- cient times, statues and temples would have been See F. COLUMBUS, C. 62.

erected to him without number, and his name would Note 69, page 33, col. 1.

have been placed among the stars. Unseen, unheard !-Hence, Minister of m.

Note 80, page 34, col. 1. The Author is speaking in his inspired character.

By dogs of carnage.Hidden things are revealed to him, and placed before

One of these, on account of his extraordinary sagahis mind as if they were present.

city and fierceness, received the full allowance of a

soldier. His name was Bezerillo. Note 70, page 33, col. 1.

Note 81, page 34, col. 1. -too soon shall they fulfil.

Swept-till the voyager, in the desert air. Nor could they, (the Powers of Darkness) have

With my own eyes I saw kingdoms as full of peomore effectually prevented the progress of the Faith, ple, as hives are full of bees; and now where are than by desolating the New World; by burying na. they !-Las Casas. tions alive in mines, or consigning them in all their errors to the sword.-Relacion de B. De Las Casas.

Note 82, page 34, col. 1.

Starts back to hear his alter'd accents there.
Note 71, page 33, col. 1.

No unusual effect of an exuberant vegetationWhen forth they rush as with the torrent's sweep.

“ The air was so vitiated," says an African traveller, Not man alone, but many other animals, became

that our torches burnt dim, and seemed ready to be ertinct there.

extinguished; and even the human voice lost its natu

ral tone."
Note 72, page 33, col. 2.

Note 83, page 34, col. 1.
Who among us a life of sorrow spent.

Here, in His train, shall arts and arms attend.
For a summary of his life and character, see“ An

“ There are those alive," said an illustrious orator, Account of the European Settlements.”—P. I, c. 8.

"whose memory might touch the two extremities. Note 73, page 33, col. 2.

Lord Bathurst, in 1704, was of an age to comprehend Signs like the ethereal bow-that shall endure.

such things—and, if his angel had then drawn up the

curtain, and, whilst he was gazing with admiration, It is remarkable that these phenomena still remain had pointed out to him a speck, and had told him, among the mysteries of nature.

* Young man, there is America—which, at this day, Note 74, page 33, col. 2.

serves for little more than to amuse you with stories He stood, and thus his secret soul address'd.

of savage men and uncouth manners; yet shall, beTe tua fata docebo.

fore you taste of death,' etc."-BURKE in 1775. Virg. Saprai di tua vita il viaggio.

Note 84, page 34, col. 1.

Assembling here, etc.
Note 75, page 33, col. 2.

How simple were the manners of the early colo
And dash the floods of ocean to the stars.

nists! The first ripening of any European fruit was When he entered the Tagus, all the seamen ran distinguished by a family-festival. Garcilasso de la from all parts to behold, as it were some wonder, a Vega relates how his dear father, the valorous Anship that had escaped so terrible a storm.-F. Colum-dres, collected together in his chamber seven or eight ETS, C. 40.

gentlemen to share with him three asparaguses, Note 76, page 33, col. 2.

the first that ever grew on the table-land of Cusco. And Thee restore thy Secret to the Deep. When the operation of dressing them was over (and I wrote on a parchment that I had discovered what it is minutely described) he distributed the two I had promised;—and, having put it into a cask, I largest among his friends ; begging that the company threw it into the sea.—Ibid. c, 37.

would not take it ill, if he reserved the third for him.

self, as it was a thing from Spain. Note 77, page 33, col. 2.

North America became instantly an asylum for the To other eyes, from distant cliff descried. oppressed ; Huguenots, and Catholics, and sects of Balboa immediately concluded it to be the ocean every name and country. Such were the first settlers for which Columbus had searched in vain ; and when, in Carolina and Maryland, Pennsylvania and New at length, after a toilsome march among the moun. England. Nor is South America altogether without Lains, his guides pointed out to him the summit from a claim to the title. Even now, while I am writing, which it might be seen, he commanded his men to the ancient house of Braganza is on its passage across halt, and went up alone.—HERRERA, I, x, 1.

the Atlantic,

Cum sociis, natoque, Penatibus, et magnis dig.
Note 78, page 33, col. 2.

Note 85, page 34, col. 1.
Hong in thy chamber, buried in thy grave.

Untouch'd, shall drop the fetters from the slave. I always saw them in his room, and he ordered Je me transporte quelquefois au-delà d'un siécle. them to be buried with his body.-F. COLUMBUS, C. 86. J'y vois le bonheur à côté de l'industrie, la douce

Dante.

tolérance remplaçant la farouche inquisition ; j'y vois,

Note 87, page 34, col. 1. un jour de fête, Péruviens, Mexicains, Américains

the slayer slain. libres, François s'embrassant comme des frères, et bén- Cortes, Pizarro.—“ Almost all,” says Las Casas, issant le régne de la liberté, qui doit amener partout “ have perished. The innocent blood, which they had une harmonie universelle.—Mais les mines, les es- shed, cried aloud for vengeance; the sighs, the tears claves, que deviendront-ils ? Les mines se fermeront, of so many victims went up before God." les esclaves seront les frères de leurs maîtres.

Note 88, page 34, col. 1.
BRISSOT.

'Mid gems and gold, unenvied and unblest. There is a prophetic stanza, written a century ago

L'Espagne a fait comme ce roi insensé qui demanda by Bp. Berkeley, which I must quote, though I shall

que tout ce qu'il toucheroit se convertit en or, et qui suffer by the comparison.

fut obligé de revenir aux dieux pour les prier de finir Westward the course of empire takes its way. sa misère.-MONTESQUIEU.

The four first acts already past,
A fifth shall close the drama with the day.

Note 89, page 34, col. 2.
Time's noblest offspring is the last.

Where on bis altar-tomb, etc.

An interpolation.
Note 86, page 34, col. 1.

Note 90, page 34, col. 2.
The spoiler spoil'd of all.

Though in the western world His grave. Cortes. “A peine put-il obtenir audience de Charles- An anachronism. The body of Columbus was not Quint; un jour il fendit la presse qui entourait la yet removed from Seville. coche de l'empereur, et monta sur l'étrier de la por- It is alniost unnecessary to point out another, in tière. Charles demanda quel étoit cet homme: "C'est," the Ninth Canto. The telescope was not then in use; répondit Cortez, celui qui vous a donné plus d'états though described long before with great accuracy by que vos pères ne vous ont laissé de villes.'"-VOLTAIRE. Roger Bacon.

Italy;

A POEM.

With folded arms and listless look to snuff
PREFACE.

The morning air, or the caged sky-lark sung,

From his green sod up-springing—but in vain, A FEW copies of this Poem were printed off in the His tuneful bill o'erflowing with a song autumn of the year before last, while the Author was Old in the days of Homer, and his wings abroad. It is now corrected, and republished with With transport quivering, on my way I went, some additions.

Thy gates, Geneva, swinging heavily, Whatever may be its success, it has led him in Thy gates so slow to open, swift to shut; many an after-dream through a beautiful country; As on that Sabbath-eve when he arrived,' (1) and may not perhaps be uninteresting to those who whose name is now thy glory, now by thee have learnt to live in past times as well as present, Inscribed to consecrate (such virtue dwells and whose minds are familiar with the events and in those small syllables) the narrow street, the people that have rendered Italy so illustrious. His birth-place-when, but one short step too late,

The stories, taken from the old Chroniclers, are Hesale him down and wept--wept till the morning; (2) given without exaggeration ; and are, he believes, as Then rose to go—a wanderer through the world. true to the original lext as any of the Plays that may "T is not a tale that every hour brings with it. be said to form our popular history.

Yet at a City-gate, from time to time,
May 1st, 1823.

Much might be learnt; and most of all at thine
London—thy hive the busiest, greatest, still

Gathering, enlarging still. Let us stand by,
PART I.

And note who passes. Here comes one, a Youth,
Glowing with pride, the pride of conscious power,

A Chatterton—in thought admired, caress'd,
I.

And crown'd like Petrarch in the Capitol;

Ere long to die—to fall by his own hand,
THE LAKE OF GENEVA.

And fester with the vilest. Here come two,
Day glimmer'd in the east, and the white Moon

Less feverish, less exalted—soon to part, Hung like a vapor in the cloudless sky,

A Garrick and a Johnson ; Wealth and Fame Yet visible, when on my way I went,

Awaiting one-even at the gate, Neglect Glad to be gone-a pilgrim from the north,

And Want the other. But what multitudes, Now more and more attracted as I drew

Urged by the love of change, and, like myself, Nearer and nearer. Ere the artisan, Drowsy, half-clad, had from his window leant,

Adventurons, careless of tomorrow's fare,

A stir unusual and accompanied Press on-though but a rill entering the Sea, With many a tuning of rude instruments, Entering and lost! Our task would never end. And many a laugh that argued coming pleasure,

Mine host's fair daughter for the nuptial rite, Day glimmer'd and I went, a gentle breeze And nuptial feast attiring—there I slept, Ruffiling the Leman Lake. Wave after wave, And in my dreams wander'd once more, well-pleased. If such they might be callid, dash'd as in sport, But now a charm was on the rocks, and woods, Not anger, with the pebbles on the beach

And waters; for, methought, I was with those
Making wild music, and far westward caught I had at morn, at even, wish'd for there.
The sun-beam-where, alone and as entranced,
Counting the hours, the fisher in his skiff

II.
Lay with his circular and dotted line,
Fishing in silence. When the heart is light

THE GREAT ST. BERNARD.
With hope, all pleases, nothing comes amiss ;

Night was again descending, when my mule, And soon a passage-boat swept gaily by,

That all day long had climb'd among the clouds, Laden with peasant-girls and fruits and flowers, Higher and higher still, as by a stair And many a chanticleer and partlet caged

Let down from Heaven itself, transporting me, For Vevay's market-place-a motley group Stopp'd, to the joy of both, at that low door Seen through the silvery haze. But soon.'I was gone. So near the summit of the Great St. Bernard ; The shifting sail flapp'd idly for an instant, That door which ever on its hinges moved Then bore them off.

To them that knock’d, and nightly sends abroad I am not one of those

Ministering Spirits. Lying on the watch, So dead to all things in this visible world,

Two dogs of grave demeanor welcomed me, (5) So wondrously profound—as to move on

All meekness, gentleness, though large of limb; In the sweet light of heaven, like him of old (3) And a lay-brother of the Hospital, (His name is justly in the Calendar)

Who, as we toil'd below, had heard by fits
Who through the day pursued this pleasant path The distant echoes gaining on his ear,
That winds beside the mirror of all beauty, (4) Came and held fast my stirrup in his hand,
And, when at eve his fellow-pilgrims sate, While I alighted.
Discoursing of the lake, ask'd where it was.

Long could I have stood,
They marvelld, as they might; and so must all, With a religious awe contemplating
Seeing what now I saw ; for now 't was day That House, the highest in the Ancient World,
And the bright Sun was in the firmament,

And placed there for the noblest purposes. A thousand shadows of a thousand hues

"T was a rude pile of simplest masonry, Chequering the clear expanse. Awhile his orb

With narrow windows and vast buttresses, Hung o'er thy trackless fields of snow, Mont Blanc, Built to endure the shocks of Time and Chance ; Thy seas of ice and ice-built promontories, Yet showing many a rent, as well it might, That change their shapes for ever as in sport; Warr'd on for ever by the elements, Then travellid onward, and went down behind And in an evil day, nor long ago, The pine-clad heights of Jura, lighting up By violent men—when on the mountain-top The woodman's casement, and perchance his axe The French and Austrian banners met in conflict Borne homeward through the forest in his hand; And, in some deep and melancholy glen,

On the same rock beside it stood the church, That dungeon-fortress never to be named,

Reft of its cross, not of its sanctity; Where, like a lion taken in the toils,

The vesper-bell, for 't was the vesper-hour, Toussaint breathed out his brave and generous spirit. Duly proclaiming through the wilderness, Ah, little did He think, who sent him there,

All ye who hear, whatever be your work, That he himself, then greatest among men, Stop for an instant-move your lips in prayer!" Should in like manner be so soon convey'd And, just beneath it, in that dreary dale, Across the ocean—to a rock so small

If dale it might be call’d, so near to Heaven, Amid the countless multitude of waves,

A little lake, where never fish leap'd up,
That ships have gone and sought it, and return'd, Lay like a spot of ink amid the snow;
Saying it was not!

A star, the only one in that small sky,
Still along the shore,

On its dead surface glimmering. 'T was a scene Among the trees I went for many a mile,

Resembling nothing I had left behind, Where damsels sit and weave their fishing-nets, As though all worldly ties were now dissolved ;Singing some national song by the way-side. And to incline the mind still more to thought, But now 't was dusk, and journeying by the Rhone, To thought and sadness, on the eastern shore That there came down, a torrent from the Alps, Under a beetling cliff stood half in shadow I enter'd where a key unlocks a kingdom, A lonely chapel destined for the dead, The mountains closing, and the road, the river For such as, having wander'd from their way, Filling the narrow pass. There, till a ray Had perish'd miserably Side by side, Glanced through my lattice, and the household-stir Within they lie, a mournful company Warn'd me to rise, to rise and to depart,

All in their shrouds, no earth to cover them;

Their features full of life, yet motionless 1 St. Maurice.

In the broad day, nor soon to suffer change,

Though the barr'd windows, barr'd against the wolf, Which, where it comes, makes Summer; and in
Are always open!

thought,
But the Bise blew cold ; (6) Oft am I sitting on the bench beneath
And, bidden 10 a spare but cheerful meal,

Their garden-plot, where all that vegetates
I sate among the holy brotherhood

Is but some scanty lettuce, to observe
At their long board. The fare indeed was such Those from the South ascending, every step
As is prescribed on days of abstinence,

As though it were their last- and instantly
But might have pleased a nicer taste than mine; Restored, renew'd, advancing as with songs,
And through the floor came up, an ancient matron Soon as they see, turning a lofty crag,
Serving unseen below; while from the roof That plain, that modest structure, promising
(The roof, the floor, the walls of native fir), Bread to the hungry, (9) to the weary rest.
A lamp hung flickering, such as loves to fling
Its partial light on Apostolic heads,

III.
And sheds a grace on all. Theirs Time as yet

THE DESCENT. Had changed not. Some were almost in the prime ;

My mule refresh'd-and, let the truth be told, Nor was a brow o'ercast. Seen as I saw them,

He was not of that vile, that scurvy race, Ranged round their ample hearth-stone in an hour

From sire to son lovers of controversy, Of rest, they were as gay, as free from guile,

But patient, diligent, and sure of foot, As children; answering, and at once, to all

Shunning the loose stone on the precipice, The gentler impulses, to pleasure, mirth;

Snorting suspicion while with sight, smell, touch, Mingling, at intervals, with rational talk

Examining the wet and spongy moss, Music; and gathering news from them that came,

And on his haunches sitting to slide down As of some other world. But when the storm

The steep, the smooth-my mule refresh'd, his bells Rose, and the snow rollid on in ocean-billows,

Gingled once more, the signal to depart,
When on his face the experienced traveller fell,

And we set out in the grey light of dawn,
Sheltering his lips and nostrils with his hands,
Then all was changed; and, sallying with their pack Fast-frozen, and among huge blocks of ice

Descending rapidly-by waterfalls
Into that blank of nature, they became

That in their long career had stopt mid-way, Unearthly beings. “ Anselm, higher up,

At length, uncheck’d, unbidden, he stood still; Just where it drifts, a dog howls loud and long,

And all his bells were muffled. Then my Guide, And now, as guided by a voice from Heaven,

Lowering his voice, address'd me: “Through this Digs with his feet. That noble vehemence

Chasm Whose can it be, but his who never err'd ?

On and say nothing—for a word, a breath, Let us to work! there is no time to lose !

Stirring the air, may loosen and bring down But who descends Mont Velan ? "T is La Croix.

A winter's snow-enough to overwhelm Away, away! if not, alas, too late.

The horse and foot that, night and day, defiled Homeward he drags an old man and a boy,

Along this path to conquer at Marengo. Faltering and falling, and hut half awaken'd,

Well I remember how I met them here, Asking to sleep again." Such their discourse.

As the light died away, and how Napoleon,

Wrapt in his cloak-I could not be deceivedOft has a venerable roof received me;

Rein'd in his horse, and ask'd me, as I pass'd, St. Bruno's once' (7)—where, when the winds were How far 't was to St. Remi. Where the rock hushid,

Juts forward, and the road, crumbling away,
Nor from the cataract the voice came up,

Narrows almost to nothing at its base,
You might have heard the mole work underground, "T was there ; and down along the brink he led
So great the stillness of that place; none seen,

To Victory Dessaix, who turn'd the scale, (10)
Save when from rock to rock a hermit cross'd

Leaving his life-blood in that famous field By some rude bridge-or one at midnight tollid

(When the clouds break, we may discern the spot To matins, and white habits, issuing forth,

In the blue haze), sleeps, as you saw at dawn, Glided along those aisles interminable,

Just as you enter'd, in the Hospital-church." All, all observant of the sacred law

So saying, for awhile he held his peace,
of Silence. Nor is that sequester'd spot,
Once called "Sweet Waters,” now “The Shady But soon, the danger passid, launch'd forth again

Awe-struck beneath that dreadful Canopy ;
Vale," 2
To me unknown; that house so rich of old,

IV.
So courteous, (8) and by two, that pass'd that way,"

JORASSE.
Amply requited with immortal verse,
The Poet's payment.

JORASSE was in his three-and-twentieth year;
But, among them all, Graceful and active as a stag just roused;
None can with this compare, the dangerous seat Gentle withal, and pleasant in his speech,
Of generous, active Virtue. What though Frost Yet seldom seen to smile. He had grown up
Reign everlastingly, and ice and snow

Among the Hunters of the Higher Alps ;
Thaw not, but gather—there is that within, Had caught their starts and fits of thoughtfulness,

Their haggard looks, and strange soliloquies, 1 The Grande Chartreuse.

Said to arise by those who dwell below, 2 Vallombrosa, formerly called Acqua Bella.

From frequent dealings with the Mountain-Spirits. 3 Ariosto and Milton.

But other ways had taught him better things;

50