WHEN the last hope of trampled France had failed
Like a brief dream of unremaining glory,
From visions of despair I rose, and scaled
The peak of an aerial promontory,
Whose caverned base with the vext surge was hoary,
And saw the golden dawn break forth, and waken
Each cloud and every wave:-but transitory
The calm: for, sudden, the firm earth was shaken,
As if by the last wreck its frame were overtaken.
So, as I stood, one blast of muttering thunder
Burst in far peals along the waveless deep,
When, gathering fast, around, above, and under,
Long trains of tremulous mist began to creep,
Until their complicating lines did steep
The orient sun in shadow:-not a sound
Was heard: one horrible repose did keep
The forests and the floods, and all around
Darkness more dread than night was poured upon the
Hark! 'tis the rushing of a wind that sweeps
Earth and the ocean. See! the lightnings yawn,
Deluging Heaven with fire, and the lashed deeps
Glitter and boil beneath: it rages on,
One mighty stream, whirlwind and waves upthrown,
Lightning and hail, and darkness eddying by.
There is a pause-the sea-birds, that were gone
Into their caves to shriek, come forth, to spy
What calm has fall'n on earth, what light is in the sky.
For, where the irresistible storm had cloven
That fearful darkness, the blue sky was seen
Fretted with many a fair cloud interwoven
Most delicately, and the ocean green,
Beneath that opening spot of blue serene,
Quivered like burning emerald: calm was spread
On all below; but far on high, between
Earth and the upper air, the vast clouds fled,
Countless and swift as leaves on autumn's tempest shea
For ever, as the war became more fierce
Between the whirlwinds and the rack on high,
That spot grew more serene: blue light did pierce
The woof of those white clouds, which seemed to lie
Far, deep, and motionless, while thro' the sky
The palid semicircle of the moon
Pass'd on, in slow and moving msty;
Its upper horn arrayed in mists, which soon
But slowly fled, like dew beneath the beams of noon.
I could not choose but gaze, a fascination
Dwelt in that moon, and sky, and clouds, which drew
My fancy thither, and in expectation
Of what I knew not I remained :-the hue
Of the white moon, amid that heaven so blue,
Suddenly stained with shadow did appear;
A speck, a cloud, a shape, approaching grew,
Like a great ship in the sun's sinking sphere
Beheld afar at sea, and swift it came anear.
Even like a bark, which, from a chasm of mountains Dark, vast, and overhanging, on a river
Which there collects the strength of all its fountains, Comes forth, whilst, with the speed its frame dota quiver,
Sails, oars, and stream, tending to one endeavour;
So from that chasm of light a winged Form
On all the winds of heaven approaching ever
Floated, dilating as it came: the storm
Pursued it with fierce blasts, and lightnings swift and
A course precipitous, of dizzy speed,
Suspending thought and breath; a monstrous sight!
For in the air do I behold indeed
An Eagle and a Serpent wreathed in fight:-
And, now relaxing its impetuous flight
Before the aerial rock on which I stood,
The Eagle, hovering, wheeled to left and right,
And hung with lingering wings over the flood,
And startled with its yells the wide air's solitude.
A shaft of light upon its wings descended,
And every golden feather gleamed therein-
Feather and scale inextricably blended.
The Serpent's mailed and many-coloured skin
Shone thro' the plumes; its coils were twined within
By many a swollen and knotted fold, and high
And far, the neck receding lithe and thin,
Sustained a crested head, which warily
Shifted and glanced before the Eagle's stedfast eye.
Around, around, in ceaseless circles wheeling,
With clang of wings and scream, the Eagle sailed
Incessantly-sometimes on high concealing
Its lessening orbs, sometimes as if it failed,
Drooped thro' the air: and still it shrieked and wailed,
And, casting back its eager head, with beak
And talon unremittingly assailed
The wreathed Serpent, who did ever seek
Upon his enemy's heart a mortal wound to wreak.
What life, what power, was kindled and arose
Within the sphere of that appalling fray!
For, from the encounter of those wond'rous foes,
A vapour, like the sea's suspended spray,
Hung gathered: in the void air, far away,
Floated the shattered plumes: bright scales did leap
Where'er the Eagle's talons made their way,
Like sparks into the darkness; as they sweep.
Blood stains the snowy foam of the tuniultuous deep.
Swift chances in that combat-many a check,
And many a change, a dark and wild turmoil;
Sometimes the Snake around his enemy's neck
Locked in stiff rings his adamantine coil,
Until the Eagle, faint with pain and toil,
Remitted his strong flight, and near the sea
Languidly fluttered, hopeless so to foil
His adversary, who then reared on high
His red and burning crest, radiant with victory.
Then, on the white edge of the bursting surge,
Where they had sunk together, would the Snake
Relax his suffocating grasp, and scourge
The wind with his wild writhings; for, to break
That chain of torment, the vast bird would shake
The strength of his unconquerable wings
As in despair, and with his sinewy neck
Dissolve in sudden shock those linked rings,
Then soar-as swift as smoke from a volcano springs.
Wile baffled wile, and strength encountered strength,
Thus long, but unprevailing:-the event
Of that portentous fight appeared at length:
Until the lamp of day was almost spent
It had endured, when lifeless, stark, and rent,
Hung high that mighty Serpent, and at last
Fell to the sea, while o'er the continent
With clang of wings and scream the Eagle past,
Heavily borne away on the exhausted blast.
And with it fled the tempest, so that ocean
And earth and sky shone through the atmosphere-
Only, 'twas strange to see the red commotion
Of waves like mountains o'er the sinking sphere
Of sun-set sweep, and their fierce roar to hear
Amid the calm: down the steep path I wound
To the sea-shore-the evening was most clear
And beautiful, and there the sea I found
Calm as a cradled child in dreamless slumber bound.
There was a Woman, beautiful as morning,
Sitting beneath the rocks, upon the sand
Of the waste sea-fair as one flower adorning
An icy wilderness-each delicate hand
Lay crossed upon her bosom, and the hand
Of her dark hair had fall'n, and so she sate
Looking upon the waves; on the bare strand
Upon the sea-mark a small boat did wait,
Fair as herself, like Love by Hope left desolate.
It seemed that this fair Shape had looked upon
That unimaginable fight, and now
That her sweet eyes were weary of the sun,
As brightly it illustrated her woe;
For in the tears which silently to flow
Paused not, its lustre hung: she, watching aye
The foam-wreathes which the faint tide wove below
Upon the spangled sands, groaned heavily,
And after every groan looked up over the sea.
And when she saw the wounded Serpent make
His path between the waves, her lips grew pale,
Parted, and quivered; the tears ceased to break
From her immoveable eyes; no voice of wail
Escaped her; but she rose, and, on the gale
Loosening her star-bright robe and shadowy hair,
Poured forth her voice: the caverns of the vale,
That opened to the ocean, caught it there,
And filled with silver sounds the overflowing air.
She spake in language whose strange melody
Might not belong to earth. I heard, alone,
What made its music more melodious be,
The pity and the love of every tone;
But to the Snake those accents sweet were known,
His native tongue and her's; nor did he beat
The hoar spray idly then, but, winding on
Thro' the green shadows of the waves that meet
Near to the shore, did pause beside her snowy feet
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