Page:Pocahontas and Other Poems (NY).pdf/245

244 She listeneth coyly, and her guileless depths Are troubled at a tender thought from thee. And yet methinks some speech of love should dwell In scenes so beautiful. For not in vain, Nor with a feeble voice, doth He who spread Such glorious charms bespeak man's kindliness For all whom He hath made, bidding the heart Grasp every creature, with a warm embrace Of brotherhood. Lo! what fantastic forms, In sudden change, are traced upon the sky. The sun doth subdivide himself, and shine On either side of an elongate cloud, Which, like an alligator huge and thin, Pierceth his disk. And then an ostrich seem'd Strangely to perch upon a wreath of foam, And gaze disdainful on the kingly orb, That lay o'erspent and weary. But he roused Up as a giant, and the welkin glow'd With rushing splendour, while his puny foes Vanish'd in air. Old England's oaks outstretch'd Their mighty arms, and took that cloudless glance Into their bosoms, as a precious thing To be remember'd long. And so we turn'd, And through romantic glades pursued our way, Where Rydal Water spends its thundering force, And through the dark gorge makes a double plunge Abruptly beautiful. Thicket, and rock, And ancient summer-house, and sheeted foam All exquisitely blent, while deafening sound Of torrents battling with their ruffian foes