Page:Poems Sigourney 1827.pdf/14

14 Glides o'er the waveless sea; then as a bride Thou bow'st thy cheek behind a fleecy veil, Timid and fair; or, bright in regal robes, Dost bid thy full-orb'd chariot proudly roll, Sweeping with silent rein the starry path Up to the highest node,—then plunging low To seek dim Nadir in his misty cell.— Lov'st thou our Earth, that thou dost hold thy lamp To guide and cheer her, when the wearied Sun Forsakes her?—Sometimes, roving on, thou shedd'st The eclipsing blot ungrateful, on that sire Who feeds thy urn with light,—but sinking deep 'Neath the dark shadow of the earth dost mourn And find thy retribution. —Dost thou hold Dalliance with Ocean, that his mighty heart Tosses at thine approach, and his mad tides, Drinking thy favoring glance, more rudely lash Their rocky bulwark?—Do thy children trace Through crystal tube our coarser-featured orb Even as we gaze on thee?—With Euclid's art Perchance, from pole to pole, her sphere they span, Her sun loved tropicks—and her spreading seas Rich with their myriad isles. Perchance they mark Where India's cliffs the trembling cloud invade, Or Andes with his fiery banner flouts The empyrean,—where old Atlas towers,— Or that rough chain whence he of Carthage pour'd Terrors on Rome.—Thou, too, perchance, hast nursed Some bold Copernicus, or fondly call'd A Galileo forth, those sun-like souls