But when the tide left bare its upright roots,
A wood on piles suspended in the air;
Such too the Indian fig, that built itself
Into a sylvan temple arch'd aloof

With airy isles and living colonnades,

Where nations might have worshipp'd God in peace.
From year to year their fruits ungather'd fell;
Not lost, but quickening where they lay, they struck
Root downward, and brake forth on every hand,
Till the strong saplings, rank and file, stood up,
A mighty army, which o'erran the isle,
And changed the wilderness into a forest.

All this appear'd accomplish'd in the space Between the morning and the evening star: So, in his third day's work, Jehovah spake, And Earth, an infant, naked as she came Out of the womb of chaos, straight put on Her beautiful attire, and deck'd her robe Of verdure with ten thousand glorious flowers, Exhaling incense; crown'd her mountain-heads With cedars, train'd her vines around their girdles, And pour'd spontaneous harvests at their feet.

Nor were those woods without inhabitants Besides the ephemera of earth and air: -Where glid the sunbeams through the latticed boughs, And fell like dew-drops on the spangled ground, To light the diamond-beetle on his way; -Where cheerful openings let the sky look down Into the very heart of solitude,

On little garden-plots of social flowers,

That crowded from the shades to peep at daylight;
-Or where impermeable foliage made
Midnight at noon, and chill, damp horror reign'd
O'er dead, fall'n leaves and slimy funguses;
-Reptiles were quicken'd into various birth.
Loathsome, unsightly, swoln to obscene bulk,
Lurk'd the dark toad beneath the infected turf;
The slow-worm crawl'd, the light cameleon climb'd,
And changed his colour as his place he changed;
The nimble lizard ran from bough to bough,
Glancing through light, in shadow disappearing;
The scorpion, many-eyed, with sting of fire,
Bred there, the legion-fiend of creeping things;
Terribly beautiful, the serpent lay,
Wreath'd like a coronet of gold and jewels,
Fit for a tyrant's brow; anon he flew
Straight as an arrow shot from his own rings,
And struck his victim, shrieking ere it went
Down his strain'd throat, that open sepulchre.

Amphibious monsters haunted the lagoon;
The hippopotamus, amidst the flood,
Flexile and active as the smallest swimmer;
But on the bank, ill balanced and infirm,
He grazed the herbage, with huge head declined,
Or lean'd to rest against some ancient trec.
The crocodile, the dragon of the waters,
In iron panoply, fell as the plague,

And merciless as famine, cranch'd his prey,
While from his jaws, with dreadful fangs all serried,
The life-blood dyed the waves with deadly streams.
The seal and the sea-lion, from the gulf,
Came forth, and couching with their little ones,
Slept on the shelving rocks that girt the shore,

Securing prompt retreat from sudden danger:
The pregnant turtle, stealing out at eve,
With anxious eye, and trembling heart, explored
The loneliest coves, and in the loose warm sand
Deposited her eggs, which the sun hatch'd:
Hlence the young brood, that never knew a parent,
Unburrow'd and by instinct sought the sea;
Nature herself, with her own gentle hand,
Dropping them one by one into the flood,
And laughing to behold their antic joy,
When launch'd in their maternal element.

The vision of that brooding world went on ;
Millions of beings yet more admirable
Than all that went before them now appear'd;
Flocking from every point of heaven, and filling
Eye, ear, and mind with objects, sounds, emotions
Akin to livelier sympathy and love

Than reptiles, fishes, insects, could inspire.
-Birds, the free tenants of land, air, and ocean,
Their forms all symmetry, their motions grace;
In plumage, delicate and beautiful,

Thick without burthen, close as fishes' scales,
Or loose as full-blown poppies to the breeze;
With wings that might have had a soul within them,
They bore their owners by such sweet enchantment;

Birds, small and great, of endless shapes and colours, Here flew and perch'd, there swam and dived at pleasure; Watchful and agile, uttering voices wild

And harsh, yet in accordance with the waves
Upon the beach, the winds in caverns moaning,
Or winds and waves abroad upon the water.
Some sought their food among the finny shoals,
Swift darting from the clouds, emerging soon
With slender captives glittering in their beaks;
These in recesses of steep crags constructed
Their eyries inaccessible, and train'd
Their hardy broods to forage in all weathers:
Others, more gorgeously apparell'd, dwelt
Among the woods, on Nature's dainties feeding,
Herbs, seeds, and roots; or, ever on the wing,
Pursuing insects through the boundless air:
In hollow trees or thickets these conceal'd
Their exquisitely woven nests; where lay
Their callow offspring, quiet as the down

On their own breasts, till from her search the dam
With laden bill return'd, and shared the meal
Among her clamorous suppliants, all agape;
Then, cowering o'er them with expanded wings,
She felt how sweet it is to be a mother.
Of these, a few, with melody untaught,
Turn'd all the air to music within hearing,
Themselves unseen; while bolder quiristers
On loftiest branches strain'd their clarion-pipes,
And made the forest echo to their screams
Discordant, yet there was no discord there,
But temper'd harmony; all tones combining,
In the rich confluence of ten thousand tongues,
To tell of joy and to inspire it. Who
Could hear such concert, and not join in chorus?
Not I;-sometimes entranced, I seem'd to float
Upon a buoyant sea of sounds: again
With curious ear I tried to disentangle
The maze of voices, and with eye as nice
To single out each minstrel, and pursue
His little song through all its labyrinth,

No breath

A cloud arose amid the tranquil heaven, Like a man's hand, but held a hurricane Within its grasp. Compress'd into a point, The tempest struggled to break loose. Was stirring, yet the billows roll'd aloof, And the air moan'd portentously; ere long The sky was hidden, darkness to be felt Confounded all things; land and water vanish'd, And there was silence through the universe; Silence, that made my soul as desolate As the blind solitude around. Methought That I had pass'd the bitterness of death Without the agony-had, unaware, Enter'd the unseen world, and in the gap Between the life that is and that to come, Awaited judgment. Fear and trembling seized All that was mortal or immortal in me: A moment, and the gates of Paradise Might open to receive, or Hell be moved To meet me. Strength and spirit fail'd; Eternity enclosed me, and I knew not, Knew not, even then, my destiny. To doubt Was to despair;—I doubted and despair'd. Then horrible deliriuin whirl'd me down To ocean's nethermost recess; the waves Disparting freely, let me fall, and fall, Lower and lower, passive as a stone, Yet rack'd with miserable pangs, that gave The sense of vain but violent resistance: And still the depths grew deeper; still the ground Receded from my feet as I approach'd it. O how I long'd to light on rocks, that sunk Like quicksands ere I touch'd them; or to hide In caverns ever open to ingulf me, But, like the horizon's limit, never nearer!

Meanwhile the irrepressible tornado,
Burst, and involved the elements in chaos;
Wind, rain, and lightning, in one vast explosion,
Rush'd from the firmament upon the deep.
Heaven's adamantine arch seem'd rent asunder,
And following in a cataract of ruins

My swift descent through bottomless abysses,
Where ocean's bed had been absorb'd in nothing.
I know no farther. When again I saw
The sun, the sea, the island, all was calm,
And all was desolation: not a tree,
Of thousands flourishing erewhile so fair,
But now was split, uprooted, snapt in twain,
Or hurl'd with all its honours to the dust.
Heaps upon heaps, the forest giants lay,
Even like the slain in battle, fall'n to rise
No more, till heaven, and earth, and sea, with all

Therein, shall perish, as to me they seem'd To perish in that ruthless hurricane.

CANTO IV.

NATURE and Time were twins. Companions still,
Their unretarded, unreturning flight

They hold together. Time, with one sole aim,
Looks ever onward, like the moon through space,
With beaming forehead, dark and bald behind,
Nor ever lost a moment in his course.
Nature looks all around her, like the sun,
And keeps her works, like his dependent worlds,
In constant motion. She hath never miss'd
One step in her victorious march of change,

For chance she knows not; He who made her, gave
His daughter power o'er all except Himself,
-Power in whate'er she does to do his will:
Behold the true, the royal law of Nature!-
Hence failures, hinderances, and devastations
Are turn'd to trophies of exhaustless skill,
That out of ruin brings forth strength and beauty,
Yea, life and immortality from death.

I gazed in consternation on the wreck Of that fair island, strown with prostrate trees, The soil plough'd up with horrid inundations, The surface black with sea-weed, not a glimpse Of verdure peeping; stems, boughs, foliage lay Rent, broken, clotted, perishing in slime.

How are the mighty fallen! I exclaim'd;

Surely the feller hath come up among ye,

And with a stroke invisible hewn down

The growth of centuries in one dark hour!
Is this the end of all perfection? This
The abortive issue of a new creation,
Erewhile so fruitful in abounding joys,

And hopes fulfilling more than all they promised?
Ages to come can but repair this ravage;
The past is lost for ever. Reckless Time
Stays not: astonied Nature stands aghast,
And wrings her hands in silent agony,
Amidst the annihilation of her works.»>

More exquisitely brilliant and aërial
Than morn or evening's gaudier pageantry.
Amidst that burial of the mighty dead,
There was a resurrection from the dust
Of lowly plants, impatient for the light,
Long interrupted by o'ershadowing woods,
While in the womb of earth their embryos tarried,
Unfructifying, yet imperishable.

Huge remnants of the forest stood apart,
Like Tadmor's pillars in the wilderness,
Startling the traveller 'midst his thoughts of home;
-Bare trunks of broken trees, that gave their heads
To the wind's axe, but would not yield their roots
To the uptearing violence of the floods.
From these a slender race of scions sprang,
Which with their filial arms embraced and shelter'd
The monumental relics of their sires;

But limited in number, scatter'd wide,
And slow of growth, they overran no more
The Sun's dominions in that open isle.

Meanwhile the sea-fowl, that survived the storm, Whose rage had fleck'd the waves with shatter'd plumes And weltering carcasses, the prey of sharks, Came from their fastnesses among the rocks, And multiplied like clouds when rains are brooding, Or flowers, when clear warm sunshine follows rain. The inland birds had perish'd, nor again, By airy voyagers from shores unknown, Was silence broken on the unwooded plains: Another race of wing'd inhabitants Ere-long possess'd and peopled all the soil.

The sun had sunk where sky and ocean meet, And each might seem the other; sky below, With richest garniture of clouds inlaid; Ocean above with isles and continents, Illumined from a source no longer seen: Far in the east, through heaven's intenser blue, Two brilliant sparks, like sudden stars, appear'd; Not stars indeed, but birds of mighty wing, Retorted neck, and javelin-pointed bill, That made the air sigh as they cut it through. They gain'd upon the and as they came, eye, Enlarged, grew brighter, and display'd their forms Amidst the golden evening; pearly-white, But ruby-tinctured. On the loftiest cliff

They settled, hovering ere they touch'd the ground, And uttering, in a language of their own,

Yet such as every ear might understand,

And every bosom answer, notes of joy,

And gratulation for that resting-place.

Stately and beautiful they stood, and clapt

Not in voluptuous pastime revelling there,
Among the rosy clouds, while orient heaven
Flamed like the opening gates of Paradise,
Whence issued forth the Angel of the sun,
And gladden'd Nature with returning day:
-Eager for food, their searching eyes they fix'd
On ocean's unroll'd volume, from an height,
That brought immensity within their scope;
Yet with such power of vision look'd they down,
As though they watch'd the shell-fish slowly gliding
O'er sunken rocks, or climbing trees of coral.
On indefatigable wing upheld,

Breath, pulse, existence, seem'd suspended in them :
They were as pictures painted on the sky;

Till suddenly, aslant, away they shot,

Like meteors changed from stars to gleams of lightning,
And struck upon the deep; where, in wild play,
Their quarry flounder'd, unsuspecting harm,
With terrible voracity, they plunged

Their heads among the affrighted shoals, and beat
A tempest on the surges with their wings,

Till flashing clouds of foam and spray conceal'd them.
Nimbly they seized and secreted their prey,
Alive and wriggling in the elastic net,
Which Nature hung beneath their grasping beaks;
Till, swoln with captures, the unwieldy burthen
Clogg'd their slow flight, as heavily to land
These mighty hunters of the deep return'd.
There on the cragged cliffs they percli'd at ease,
Gorging their hapless victims one by one;
Then full and weary, side by side, they slept,
Till evening roused them to the chase again.

Harsh seems the ordinance, that life by life
Should be sustain'd; and yet when all must die,
And be like water spilt upon the ground,
Which none can gather up,-the speediest fate,
Though violent and terrible, is best.

O with what horrors would creation groan,-
What agonies would ever be before us,
Famine and pestilence, disease, despair,
Anguish and pain in every hideous shape,
Had all to wait the slow decay of Nature!
Life were a martyrdom of sympathy;

Death, lingering, raging, writhing, shrieking torture;
The grave would be abolish'd; this gay world
A valley of dry bones, a Golgotha,

In which the living stumbled o'er the dead,
Till they could fall no more, and blind perdition
Swept frail mortality away for ever.

'T was wisdom, mercy, goodness, that ordain'd
Life in such infinite profusion,-Death

So sure, so prompt, so multiform to those

And ever and anon broke off to gaze,

With yearning pleasure, told in gentle murmurs,
On that strange land their destined home and country.
Night round them threw her brown transparent gloom,
Through which their lonely images yet shone,
Like things unearthly, while they bow'd their heads
On their full bosoms, and reposed till morn.
I knew the Pelicans, and cried-«< All hail!
Ye future dwellers in the wilderness!»

At early dawn I mark'd them in the sky, Catching the morning colours on their plumes;

No wrath to come, and have no heaven to lose.

Love found that lonely couple on their isle,
And soon surrounded them with blithe companions.
The noble birds, with skill spontaneous, framed
A nest of reeds among the giant-grass,

That waved in lights and shadows o'er the soil.
There, in sweet thraldom, yet unweening why,
The patient dam, who ne'er till now had known,
Parental instinct, brooded o'er her eggs,
Long ere she found the curious secret out,
That life was hatching in their brittle shells.

Then, from a wild rapacious bird of prey,
Tamed by the kindly process, she became
That gentlest of all living things-a mother;
Gentlest while yearning o'er her naked young,
Fiercest when stirr'd by anger to defend them.
Her mate himself the softening power confess'd,
Forgot his sloth, restrain'd his appetite,

And ranged the sky and fish'd the stream for her.
Or, when o'erwearied Nature forced her off
To shake her torpid feathers in the breeze,
And bathe hier bosom in the cooling flood,
He took her place, and felt through every nerve,
While the plump nestlings throbb'd against his heart,
The tenderness that makes the vulture mild;
Yea, half unwillingly his post resign'd,
When, home-sick with the absence of an hour,
She hurried back, and drove him from her seat
With pecking bill, and cry of fond distress,
Answer'd by him with murmurs of delight,
Whose gutturals harsh to her were love's own music.
Then, settling down, like foam upon the wave,
White, flickering, effervescent, soon subsiding,
Her ruffled pinions smoothly she composed;
And, while beneath the comfort of her wings,
Her crowded progeny quite fill'd the nest,

The halcyon sleeps not sounder, when the wind
Is breathless, and the sea without a curl,
-Nor dreams the halcyon of serener days,
Or nights more beautiful with silent stars,
Than, in that hour, the mother Pelican,
When the warm tumults of affection sunk
Into calm sleep, and dreams of what they were,
-Dreams more delicious than reality.
-He sentinel beside her stood, and watch'd,
With jealous eye, the raven in the clouds,
And the rank sea-mews wheeling round the cliffs.
Woe to the reptile then that ventured nigh;
The snap of his tremendous bill was like
Death's scythe, down-cutting every thing it struck.
The heedless lizard, in his gambols, peep'd
Upon the guarded nest, from out the flowers,
But paid the instant forfeit of his life;
Nor could the serpent's subtlety clude
Capture, when gliding by, nor in defence
Might his malignant fangs and venom save him.
Ere-long the thriving brood outgrew their cradle,
Ran through the grass, and dabbled in the pools;
No sooner denizens of earth than made
Free both of air and water; day by day,
New lessons, exercises, and amusements
Employ'd the old to teach, the young to learn.
Now floating on the blue lagoon behold them;
The Sire and Dam in swan-like beauty steering,
Their Cygnets following through the foamy wake,
Picking the leaves of plants, pursuing insects,
Or catching at the bubbles as they broke :
Till on some minor fry, in reedy shallows,
With flapping pinions and unsparing beaks,
The well-taught scholars plied their double art,
To fish in troubled waters, and secure
The petty captives in their maiden pouches;
Then hurry with their banquet to the shore,

And buffet with the breakers on the reef,
The Parents put them to severer proof:
On beetling rocks the little ones were marshall'd;
There, by endearments, stripes, example urged
To try the void convexity of heaven,
And plough the ocean's horizontal field.
Timorous at first they flutter'd round the verge,
Balanced and furl'd their hesitating wings,
Then put them forth again with steadier aim;
Now, gaining courage as they felt the wind
Dilate their feathers, fill their airy frames
With buoyancy that bore them from their feet,
They yielded all their burthen to the breeze,
And sail'd and soar'd where'er their guardians led;
Ascending, hovering, wheeling, or alighting,
They search'd the deep in quest of nobler game
Than yet their inexperience had encounter'd;
With these they battled in that element,
Where wings or fins were equally at home,
Till, conquerors in many a desperate strife,
They dragg'd their spoils to land, and gorged at leisure.

Thus perfected in all the arts of life,

That simple Pelicans require,-save one,
Which mother-bird did never teach her daughter,
-The inimitable art to build a nest;

Love, for his own delightful school, reserving
That mystery which novice never fail'd
To learn infallibly when taught by him:
-Hence that small masterpiece of Nature's art,
Still unimpair'd, still unimproved, remains
The same in site, material, shape, and texture.
While every kind a different structure frames,
All build alike of each peculiar kind:

The nightingale, that dwelt in Adam's bower,
And pour'd her stream of music through his dreams;
The soaring lark, that led the eye of Eve
Into the clouds, her thoughts into the heaven
Of heavens, where lark nor eye can penetrate;
The dove, that perch'd upon the Tree of Life,
And made her bed among its thickest leaves;
All the wing'd habitants of Paradise,
Whose songs once mingled with the songs of Angels,
Wove their first nests as curiously and well
As the wood-minstrels in our evil day,
After the labours of six thousand years,
In which their ancestors have fail'd to add,
To alter or diminish, any thing

In that, of which Love only knows the secret,
And teaches every mother for herself,
Without the power to impart it to her offspring:
-Thus perfected in all the arts of life,
That simple Pelicans require, save this,

Those Parents drove their young away; the young
Gaily forsook their parents. Soon enthrall'd
With love-alliances among themselves,
They built their nests, as happy instinct wrought
Within their bosoms, wakening powers unknown,
Till sweet necessity was laid upon them;
They bred, and rear'd their little families,
As they were train'd and disciplined before.

Thus wings were multiplied from year to year,
And ere the patriarch-twain, in good old age,

flying.

But when their pens grew strong to fight the storm,

In which themselves had nursed a hundred broods, The isle was peopled with their progeny.