And all on deck, kindling to life again,
Sent forth their anxious spirits o'er the main.
“Oh whence, as wafted from Elysium, whence
These perfumes, strangers to the raptured sense?
These boughs of gold, and fruits of heavenly hue,
Tinging with vermeil light the billows blue?
And (thrice, thrice blessed is the eye that spied,
The hand that snatched it sparkling in the tide)
Whose cunning carved this vegetable bowl, *
Symbol of social rites, and intercourse of soul ?”
Such to their grateful ear the gush of springs,
Who course the ostrich, as away she wings;
Sons of the desert! who delight to dwell
'Mid kneeling camels round the sacred well;
Who, ere the terrors of his pomp be past,
Fall to the demon in the redd’ning blast. +
The sails were furled: with many a melting close,
Solemn and slow the evening-anthem rose,
Rose to the Virgin. 'Twas the hour of day,
When setting suns o'er summer-seas display
A path of glory, opening in the west
To golden climes, and islands of the blest;
And human voices, on the silent air,
Went o'er the waves in songs of gladness there!
Chosen of Men! 'Twas thine, at noon of night, First from the prow to hail the glimmering light;
* Ex ligno lucido confectum, et arte mirâ laboratum. P. Martyr. dec. i. 5. + The Simoom.