"G45850TT 
 
 FROM THE 
 
 AUTHORS CLUB LIBRARY 
 
 DEPOSITED IN 
 
 THE NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY 
 1932 
 
 WITHDRAWN 
 
AIRS OF PALESTINE. 
 
AIRS OF PALESTINE ; 
 
 Jpcem : 
 
 BY JOHN PIERPONT, ESQ. 
 
 I love to breathe, where Gilead sheds her balm ; 
 I love to walk on Jordan's banks of palm ; 
 I love to wet my foot in Hermon's dews ; 
 I love the promptings of Isaiah's muse : 
 In Carmel's holy grots I'll court repose, 
 And deck my mossy couch with Sharon's deathless rose. 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 BOSTON : 
 
 PUBLISHED BY WELLS AND LILLY. 
 
 1817. 
 
WITHDRAWN 
 FROM N.Y.P.U 
 
 DISTRICT OP MARYLAND, SS. 
 
 BE it remembered, That on this thirteenth day of November, in 
 the forty-first year of the Independence of the United States of 
 America, John Pierpont, Esquire, of the said District, hath depo 
 sited in this Office, the Title of a Book, the right whereof he 
 claims as author, in the words following, to wit : 
 
 "Airs of Palestine; a Poem: by John Pierpont, Esquire. 
 
 " I love to breathe, where Gilead sheds her balm ; 
 
 " I love to walk on Jordan's banks of palm ; 
 
 " I love to wet my foot in Hermon's dews ; 
 
 " I love the promptings of Isaiah's muse : 
 
 " In Carmel's holy grots I'll court repose, 
 
 " And deck my mossy couch with Sharon's deathless rose." 
 
 , f&t eonfomrity *o the actr ofVthe Congress of the United States, 
 JeutiiJed "An*act fpr r t#d encouragement of learning, by securing 
 the copies <jf ftiaps^ &a$s and books, to the authors and proprie- 
 * toi$ of. s,uch copies, during the times therein mentioned," and also 
 ^t/Uhf aetj "entitled*" AJ acl, supplementary to an act, entitled an 
 &qj, ^oi*t|e ic\)isigcn|Br, fef learfting, by securing the copies of 
 maps, chains anti Ixipki, td ihj? k authors and proprietors of such 
 copies, during the times therein mentioned," and extending the 
 benefits thereof, to the arts of designing, engraving and etching his 
 torical and other prints. PHILIP MOORE, 
 Clerk of the District of 
 
(5U- 
 
 AIRS OF PALES,TH4i. 
 
 SUMMER'S dun cloud, that, slowly rising, holds 
 The sweeping tempest in its rushing folds, 
 Though o'er the ridges of its thundering breast, 
 The King of Terrours lifts his lightning crest ; 
 Pleas'd we behold, when those dark folds we find, 
 Fring'd with the golden light, that glows behind. 
 So, when one language bound the human race, 
 On Shinar's plain, round Babel's mighty base, 
 Gloomily rose the minister of wrath ; 
 Dark was his frown, destructive was his path ; 
 That tower was blasted by the touch of Heaven ; 
 That bond was burst that race asunder driven : 
 Yet, round the Avenger's brow, that frown'd above, 
 Play'd Mercy's beams the lambent light of Love. 
 All was not lost, though busy Discord flung 
 Repulsive accents from each jarring tongue ; 
 All was not lost ; for Love one tie had twin'd, 
 \nd Mercy dropp'd it, to connect mankind : 
 
 980437 ' 
 
6 AIRS OF 
 
 One tie, that winds, with soft and sweet control, 
 Its silken fibres round the yielding soul ; 
 IBinds/aan.to man, sooths Passion's wildest strife, 
 , And* through the mazy labyrinths of life, 
 Supplies a faithfV! clue, to lead the lone 
 And weary wanderer to his Father's throne. 
 
 That tie is MUSICK. How supreme her sway I 
 How lovely is the Power that all obey ! 
 Dumb matter trembles at her thrilling shock ; 
 Her voice is echo'd by the desert rock ; 
 For her, the asp withholds the sting of death, 
 And bares his fangs, but to inhale her breath ; 
 The lordly lion leaves his lonely lair, 
 And, crouching, listens when she treads the air ; 
 And man, by wilder impulse driven to ill, 
 Is tamed, and led by this Enchantress still. 
 Who ne'er has felt her hand assuasive steal 
 Along his heart That heart will never feel. 
 *Tis hers to chain the passions, sooth the soul, 
 To snatch the dagger, and to dash the bowl 
 From Murder's hand ; to smooth the couch of Care, 
 Extract the thorns, and scatter roses there ; 
 Of Pain's hot brow, to still the bounding throb, 
 Despair's long sigh, and Grief's convulsive sob. 
 
PALESTINE. 7 
 
 How vast her empire! Turn through earth, through air, 
 Your aching eye, you find her subjects there ; 
 Nor is the throne of heaven above her spell, 
 Nor yet beneath it is the host of hell. 
 
 To her, Religion owes her holiest flame : 
 Her eye looks heaven-ward, for from heaven she came. 
 And when Religion's mild and genial ray, 
 Around the frozen heart begins to play, 
 Musick's soft breath falls on the quivering light ; 
 The fire is kindled, and the flame is bright ; 
 And that cold mass, by either power assail'd, 
 Is warm'd made liquid and to heaven exhal'd. 
 
 Here let us pause : the opening prospect view : 
 How fresh this mountain air ! how soft the blue, 
 That throws its mantle o'er the lengthening scene ! 
 Those waving groves those vales of living green 
 Those yellow fields that lake's cerulean face, 
 That meets, with curling smiles, the cool embrace 
 Of roaring torrents, lulPd by her to rest ; 
 That white cloud, melting on the mountain's breast : 
 How the wide landscape laughs upon the sky ! 
 How rich the light that gives it to the eye ! 
 
8 AIRS OF 
 
 Where lies our path ? though many*a vista call, 
 We may admire, but cannot tread them all. 
 Where lies our path ! a poet, and inquire 
 What hills, what vales, what streams become the lyre ? 
 See, there Parnassus lifts his head of snow ; 
 See at his foot, the cool Cephissus flow ; 
 There Ossa rises ; there Olympus towers ; 
 Between them, Temps breathes in beds of flowers, 
 Forever verdant ; and there Peneus glides 
 Through laurels, whispering on his shady sides. 
 Your theme is Musick : Yonder rolls the wave, 
 Where dolphins snatch'd Arion from his grave, 
 Enchanted by his lyre : Cithaeron's shade 
 Is yonder seen, where first Amphion play'd 
 Those potent airs, that, from the yielding earth, 
 Charm'd stones around him, and gave cities birth. 
 And fast by Haemtis, Thracian Hebrus creeps 
 O'er golden sands, and still for Orpheus weeps, 
 Whose gory head, borne by the stream along, 
 Was still melodious, and expired in song* 
 There Nereids sing, the Triton winds his shell ; 
 There be thy path for there the Muses dwell. 
 
 No, no a lonelier, lovelier path be mine : 
 Greece, and her charms, 1 leave, for Palestine. 
 
PALESTINE. 9 
 
 There, purer streams through happier valleys flow, 
 
 And sweeter flowers on holier mountains blow. 
 
 I love to breathe where Gilead sheds her balm ; 
 
 I love to walk on Jordan's banks of palm; 
 
 I love to wet my foot in Hermon's dews ; 
 
 I love the promptings of Isaiah's muse : 
 
 In Carmel's holy grots I'll court repose, 
 
 And deck my mossy couch, with Sharon's deathless 
 
 Here arching vines their leafy banner spread, 
 Shake their green shields, and purple odours shed ; 
 At once repelling Syria's burning ray, 
 And breathing freshness on the sultry day. 
 Here the wild bee suspends her murmuring wing, 
 Pants on the rock, or sips the silver spring; 
 And here as musing on my theme divine, 
 I gather flowers to bloom along my line, 
 And hang my garland in festoons around, 
 Enwreath'd with clusters, and with tendrils bound ; 
 And fondly, warmly, humbly hope the Power, 
 That gave perfumes and beauty to the flower, 
 Drew living water from this rocky shrine, 
 Purpled the clustering honours of the vine, 
 *1 
 
10 AIRS OF 
 
 And led me, lost in devious mazes, hither, 
 To weave a garland, will not let it wither : 
 mmd'ring, I listen to the strain sublime, 
 That flows, all freshly, down the stream of time, 
 Wafted in grand simplicity along, 
 The undying breath, the very soul of song. 
 Down that long vale of years are sweetly roll'd 
 The mingled voices of the bards of old ; 
 Melodious voices ! bards of brightest fire ! 
 Where each is warm, how melting is the quire ! 
 Yet, though so blended is the concert blest, 
 Some master tones are heard above the rest. 
 
 O'er the cleft sea, the storm in fury rides : 
 Israel is safe, and Egypt tempts the tides : 
 Her host, descending, meets a wat'ry grave, 
 And o'er her monarch rolls the refluent wave. 
 The storm is hush'd : the billows foam no more, 
 But sink in smiles : there's musick on the shore. 
 On the wide waste of waters, dies that air 
 Unheard ; for all is death and coldness there. 
 But see ! the robe that brooding Silence throws 
 O'er Shur reclining in profound repose, 
 Is rent, and scattered, by the burst of praise, 
 
PALESTINE. 11 
 
 That swells the song th' astonish'd Hebrews raiie. 
 That rending anthem on the wild was flung, 
 From Miriam's timbrel and from Moses' tongue : l 
 The first to Liberty that e'er was sung. 
 
 But if, when joy and gratitude inspire, 
 Such high-ton'd triumph walks along the lyre, 
 What are its breathings, when pale Sorrow flings 
 Her tearful touches o'er its trembling strings ? 
 
 At Nebo's base, that mighty bard resigns 
 His life and empire, in prophetick lines. 2 
 Heaven, all attention, round the poet bends, 
 And conscious earth, as when the dew descends, 
 Or showers as gentle, feels her young buds swell, 
 Her herbs shoot greener, at that fond farewell. 
 Rich is the song, though mournfully it flows : 
 And as that harp, which God alone bestows, 
 Is swept in concert with that sinking breath, 
 Its cold chords shrink, as from the touch of death, 
 It mas the touch of death ! Sweet be thy slumber*. 
 Harp of the prophet ! but those holy numbers, 
 That death-denoting, monitory moan, 
 Shall live, till Nature heaves her dving groan, 
 
12 AIRS OF 
 
 From Pisgah's top his eye the prophet threw, 
 O'er Jordan's wave, where Canaan met his view. 
 His sunny mantle, and his hoary locks 
 Shone, like the robe of Winter, on the rocks. 
 Where is that mantle ? Melted into air. 
 Where is the prophet ? God can tell thee where. 
 
 So, on the brow of some romantick height, 
 A fleecy cloud hangs hov'ring in the light, 
 Fit couch for angels ; which while yet we view, 
 'Tis lost to earth, and all around is blue. 
 
 Whose veteran arm, already taught to urge 
 The battle stream, and roll its darkest surge, 
 Hangs over Jericho's devoted towers, 3 
 And, like the storm o'er Sodom, redly lowers? 
 The moon can answer ; for she heard his tongue, 
 And cold and pale o'er Ajalon she hung. 4 
 The sun can tell : O'er Gibeon's vale of blood, 
 Curving their beamy necks, his coursers stood, 
 Held by that hero's arm, to light his wrath, 
 And roll their glorious eyes upon his crimson path. 
 What mine, exploding, rends that smoking ground ? 
 What earthquake spreads those smouldering ruins 
 round ? 
 
PALESTINE. 13 
 
 The sous of Levi, round that city, bear 
 The ark of God, their consecrated care, 
 And, in rude concert, each returning morn, 
 Blow the long trump, and wind the curling horn. 
 No blackening thunder smok'd along the wall : 
 No earthquake shook it : Musick wrought its fall. 
 
 The reverend hermit, who from earth retires, 
 Freezes to love's, to melt in holier fires, 
 And builds on Libanus his humble shed, 5 
 Beneath the waving cedars of his head ; 
 Year after year, with brighter views revolving, 
 Doubt after doubt in stronger hopes dissolving ; 
 Though neither pipe, nor voice, nor organ's swell, 
 Disturb the silence of his lonely cell ; 
 Yet hears enough, had nought been heard before, 
 To wake a holy awe, and teach him to adore. 
 For, ere the day with orisons he closes, 
 Ere on his flinty couch his head reposes, 
 A couch more downy in the hermit's sight, 
 Than beds of roses to the Sybarite ; 
 As lone he muses on those naked rocks, 
 Heaven's last light blushing on his silver locks, 
 Amid the deep'ning shades of that wild mountain, 
 He hears the burst of many a mossy fountain. 
 
14 AIRS OF 
 
 Whose crystal rills in pure embraces mingle, 
 And dash, arid sparkle down the leafy dingle, 
 There lose their liquid notes : with grateful glow, 
 The hermit listens, as the waters flow, 
 And says there's musick in that mountain stream, 
 The storm beneath him, and the eagle's scream. 
 
 There lives around that solitary man, 
 The tameless musick, that with time began ; 
 Airs of the Power, that bids the tempest roar, 
 The cedar bow, the royal eagle soar ; 
 The mighty Power, by whom those rocks were piPd, 
 Who moves unseen, and murmurs thro' the wild. 
 What countless chords does that dread Being strike ! 
 Various their tone, but all divine alike : 
 'Tis Mercy now, in balmy softness stealing ; 
 'Tis Anger now, the Mighty One revealing ; 
 There, 'tis a string that sooths with slow vibration, 
 And here, a burst that shakes the whole creation. 
 
 By Heaven forewarn'd, his hunted life to save, 
 Behold Elijah stands by Horeb's cave ; 
 Griev'd that the God, for whom he'd warmly striven, 
 Should see his servants into exile driven, 
 
PALESTINE. 15 
 
 His words neglected, by those servants spoken, 
 His prophets murdered, and his altars broken. 
 His bleeding heart a soothing strain requires : 
 He hears it : softer than jEolian lyres, 
 "A still, small voice," like Zephyr's dying sighs, 
 Steals on his ear : he may not lift his eyes, 
 But o'er his face his flowing mantle flings, 
 And hears a whisper, from the King of Kings. 6 
 
 Yet, from that very cave, from Horeb's side, 
 Where spreads a desert prospect, wild and wide, 
 The prophet sees, with reverential dread, 
 Dark Sinai rear his thunder-blasted head ; 
 Where erst was pour'd on trembling Israel's ear, 
 A stormier peal, that Moses quak'd to hear. 
 In what tremendous pomp Jehovah shone, 
 When on that mount he fix'd his burning throne ! 7 
 Thick, round its base, a shuddering gloom was flung 
 Black, on its breast, a thundercloud was hung : 
 Bright, through that blackness, arrowy lightnings 
 
 came, 
 Shot from the glowing vail, that wrapped its head in 
 
 flame. 
 
 And when that quaking mount the Eternal trod, 
 Scorch'd by the foot of the descending God, 
 
16 AIRS OF 
 
 Then, blasts of unseen trumpets, long and loud, 
 Swelled by the breath of whirlwinds, rent the cloud, 
 And Death and Terrour stalk'd, beneath that smoky 
 shroud. 
 
 Seest thou that shepherd boy, of features fair, 
 Of eye serene, and brightly flowing hair, 
 That leans, in thoughtful posture, on his crook, 
 And, statue-like, pores o'er the pebbly brook ? 
 Yes : and why stands he there, in stupor cold ? 
 Why not pursue those wanderers from his fold ? * -^ 
 Or, mid the playful children of his flocks, 
 Toss his light limbs, and shake his amber locks, 
 Rather than idly gaze upon the stream ? 
 That boy is lost in a poetick dream : 
 And, while his eye follows the wave along, 
 His soul expatiates in the realms of song. 
 For oft, where yonder grassy hills recede, 
 Pre heard that shepherd tune his rustick reed ; 
 And then, such sweetness from his fingers stole, 
 I knew that Musick had possessed his soul. 
 Oft, in her temple, shall the votary bow, 
 Oft, at her altar, breathe his ardent vow, 
 And oft suspend, along her coral walls, 
 The proudest trophies that adorn her halls, 
 
PALESTINE. J7 
 
 Even now, the heralds of his monarch tear 
 The son of Jesse from his fleecy care, 8 
 And to the hall the ruddy minstrel bring, 
 Where sits a being, that was once a king. 
 Still, on his brow the crown of Israel gleams, 
 And cringing courtiers still adore its beams, 
 Though the bright circle throws no light divine, 
 But rays of hell, that melt it while they shine. 
 
 As the young harper tries each quivering wire, 
 It leaps and sparkles with prophetick fire, 
 And, with the kindling song, the kindling rays 
 Around his fingers tremulously blaze, 
 Till the whole hall, like those blest fields above, 
 Glows with the light of melody and love. 
 
 Soon as the foaming demon hears that psalm, 
 Heaven on his memory bursts, and Eden's balm : 
 He sees the dawnings of too bright a sky ; 
 Detects the angel in the poet's eye ; 
 With grasp convulsive, rends his matted hair ; 
 Through his strain'd eye-balls shoots a fiend-like glare ; 
 And flies, with shrieks of agony, that hall, 
 The throne of Israel, and the breast of Saul ; 
 2 
 
IS AIRS OF 
 
 ExiPd to roam, or, in infernal pains. 
 
 To seek a refuge from that shepherd's strains. 
 
 The night was moonless : Judah's shepherds kept 
 Their starlight watch : their flocks around them slept. 9 
 To heaven's blue fields their wakeful eyes were turn'd, 
 And to the fires that there eternal burn'd. 
 Those azure regions had been peopled long, 
 With Fancy's children, by the sons of song : 
 And there, the simple shepherd, conning o'er 
 His humble pittance of Chaldean lore, 
 Saw, in the stillness of a starry night, 
 The Swan and Eagle wing their silent flight ;i 
 And, from their spangled pinions, as they flew, 
 On Israel's vales of verdure shower the dew: 
 Saw there, the brilliant gems, that nightly flare, 
 In the thin mist of Berenice's hair ; 
 And there, Bootes roll his lucid wain, 
 On sparkling wheels, along the ethereal plain ; 
 And there, the Pleiades, in tuneful gyre, 
 Pursue forever the star-studded Lyre ; 
 And there, with bickering lash, heaven's Charioteer 
 Urge round the Cynosure his bright career. 
 
PALESTINE. 19 
 
 While thus the shepherds watch'd the host of 
 
 night, 
 
 O'er heaven's blue concave flash'd a sudden light. 
 The unrolling glory spread its folds divine, 
 O'er the green hills and vales of Palestine ; 
 And lo ! descending angels, hovering there, 
 Stretch'd their loose wings, and in the purple air, 
 Hung o'er the sleepless guardians of the fold : 
 When that high anthem, clear, and strong, and bold 
 On wavy paths of trembling ether ran : 
 41 Glory to God ; benevolence to man ; 
 Peace to the world :" and in full concert came, 
 From silver tubes, and harps of golden frame, 
 The loud and sweet response, whose choral strains 
 Lingered and languished on Judea's plains. 
 Yon living lamps, charm'd from their chambers blue, 
 By airs so heavenly, from the skies withdrew : 
 All ? all, but one, that hung and burn'd alone, 
 And with mild lustre over Bethlehem shone. 
 Chaldea's sages saw that orb afar, 
 Glow unextinguished ; 'twas Salvation's Star. 
 
 Hear'st thou that solemn symphony, that swells 
 And echoes through Philippi's gloomy cells ? 
 
20 AIRS OF 
 
 From vault to vault the heavy notes rebound, 
 
 And granite rocks reverberate the sound. 
 
 The wretch, who long, in dungeons cold and dank, 
 
 Had shook his fetters, that their iron clank 
 
 Might break the grave-like silence of that prison, 
 
 On which the Star of Hope had never risen ; 
 
 Then sunk in slumbers, by despair opprest, 
 
 And dream'd of freedom in his broken rest ; 
 
 Wakes at the musick of those mellow strains, 
 
 Thinks it some spirit, and forgets his chains. 
 
 'Tis Paul and Silas ; who, at midnight, pay 
 
 To Him of Nazareth, a grateful lay. 
 
 Soon is that anthem wafted to the skies : 
 
 An angel bears it, and a God replies. 
 
 With thundering crash, are burst bolts, bars and 
 
 locks ; 
 
 Rent are their chains, and shivered are their stocks ; 
 Strong tides of light gush through the yielding doors, 
 Glance on the walls, and flash along the floors. 
 Fix'd in dismay, the shuddering keepers gaze 
 At the bright suns, on Freedom's brow that blaze, 
 As she descends to break the prisoners' bars, 
 Whose musick charmed her from her kindred stars. 
 
PALESTINE. 21 
 
 'Tis night again : for Musick loves to steal 
 Abroad at night ; when all her subjects kneel, 
 In more profound devotion, at her throne : 
 And, at that sober hour, she'll sit alone, 
 Upon a bank, by her sequestered cell, 
 And breathe her sorrows through her wreathed shell. 
 Again 'tis night the diamond lights on high, 
 Burn bright, and dance harmonious through the sky ; 
 And Silence leads her downy footed hours, 
 Round Sion's hill, and Salem's holy towers. 
 The Lord of Life, with his few faithful friends, 
 Drown'd in mute sorrow, down that hill descends. 
 They cross the stream that bathes its foot, and dashes 
 Around the tomb, where sleep a monarch's ashes ; 13 
 And climb the steep, where oft the midnight air 
 Received the Sufferer's solitary prayer. 
 There, in dark bowers Unbosomed, Jesus flings 
 His hand celestial o'er prophetick strings ; 
 Displays his purple robe, his bosom gory, 
 His crown of thorns, his cross, his future glory : 
 And, while the group, each hallowed accent gleaning, 
 On pilgrim's staff, in pensive posture leaning 
 Their reverend beards, that sweep their bosoms, wet 
 With the chill dews of shady Olivet 
 2* 
 
22 AIRS OF 
 
 Wonder and weep, they pour the song of sorrow, 12 
 With their lov'd Lord, whose death shall shroud the 
 
 morrow. 
 Heavens ! what a strain was that ! those matchless 
 
 tones, 
 
 That ravish " Princedoms, Dominations, Thrones ;" 
 That, heard on high, had hush'd those peals of praise, 
 That seraphs swell, and harping angels raise, 
 Soft, as the wave from Siloa's fount that flows, 
 Through the drear silence of the mountain rose. 
 How sad the Saviour's song ! how sweet ! how holy ! 
 The last he sung on earth : how melancholy ! 
 Along the valley sweep the expiring notes : 
 OnKedron's wave the melting musick floats : 
 From her blue arch, the lamp of evening flings 
 Her mellow lustre, as the Saviour sings : 
 The moon above, the wave beneath is still, 
 And light and musick mingle on the hill. 
 
 The glittering guard, whose viewless ranks invest 
 The brook's green margin, and the mountain's crest, 
 Catch that unearthly song, and soar away, 
 Leave this dark orb, for fields of endless day. 
 And round th' Eternal's throne, on buoyant pinions 
 play. 
 
PALESTINE. 23 
 
 Ye glowing seraphs, that enchanted swim, 
 In seas of rapture, as ye tune the hymn 
 Ye bore from earth O say, ye choral quires, 
 Why in such haste to wake your golden lyres ? 
 Why, like a flattering, like a fleeting dream, 
 Leave that lone mountain, and that silent stream ? 
 Say, could not then the " Man of Sorrows" claim 
 Your shield of adamant, your sword of flame ? 
 Hell forc'd a smile, at your retiring wing, 
 And man was left to crucify your King. 
 
 But must no other sweets perfume my wreath, 
 Than Carmel's hill and Sharon's valley breathe ? 
 Are holy airs borne only through the skies, 
 Where Sinai thunders, and where Horeb sighs ? 
 And move they only o'er Arabia's sea, 
 Bethesda's pool, the lake of Galilee ? 
 And does the hand that bids Judea bloom, 
 Deny its blossoms to the desert's gloom ? 
 No : turn thine eye, in visionary glance, 
 To scenes beyond old Ocean's blue expanse, 
 Where vast La Plata rolls his weight along, 
 Through worlds unknown to science and to song, 
 And, sweeping proudly o'er his boundless plain,, 
 Repels the foaming billows of the main. 
 
24 AIRS OF 
 
 Let Fancy lap thee in Paraguay's bowers, 
 And scatter round thee Nature's wildest flowers : 
 For Nature there, since first her opening eye 
 Hail'd the bright orb her Father hung on high. 
 Still, on her bosom wears the enamelled vest, 
 That bloom'd and budded on her infant breast ; 
 Still, to the sportive breeze that round her blows, 
 Turns her warm cheek, her unshorn tresses throws ; 
 With grateful hand her treasured balm bequeaths, 
 For every sigh the enamour'd rover breathes, 
 And even smiles to feel the flutterer sip 
 The virgin dew that cools her rosy lip. 
 There,through the clouds, stupendous mountains rise, 
 And lift their icy foreheads to the skies ; 
 There, blooming valleys and secure retreats 
 Bathe all thy senses in voluptuous sweets : 
 Reclining there, beneath a bending tree, 
 Fraught with the fragrant labours of the bee, 
 Admire, with me, the birds of varied hue, 
 That hang, like flowers of orange and of blue, 
 Among the broad magnolia's cups of snow, 
 Quaffing the perfumes, from those cups that flow. 
 
 But, is all peace, beneath the mountain shade ? 
 Do Love and Mercy haunt that sunny glade, 
 
PALESTINE. 25 
 
 And sweetly rest upon that lovely shore, 
 When light retires, and nature smiles no more ? 
 No : there, at midnight, the hoarse tiger growls : 
 There, the gaunt wolf sits on his rock, and howls : 
 And there, in painted pomp, the yelling Indian 
 prowls. 
 
 Round the bold front of yon projecting cliff, 
 Shoots, on white wings, the missionary's skiff, 
 And, walking steadily along the tide, 
 Seems, like a phantom, o'er the wave to glide, 
 Unfolding to the breeze her light cymarr, 
 And bearing on her breast the Apostolick star. 
 That brilliant orb the bless'd Redeemer hurPd, 
 From his pierc'd hand, ere he forsook the world. 
 Lanch'd by that hand, the sphere, divinely bright, 
 Has left, on eastern clouds, its path of light, 
 And, in a radiant curve, descends to bless 
 Parana's wave, Paraguay's wilderness. 
 See ! it has check'd its lucid course, and now 
 Lights on the intrepid Jesuit's humble prow, 14 
 Brightens his sail with its celestial glow, 
 And gilds the emerald wave, that rolls below, 
 
26 AIRS OF 
 
 Lo, at the stern, the priest of Jesus rears 
 His reverend front, ploughed by the share of years. 
 He takes his harp : the spirits of the air 
 Breathe on his brow, and interweave his hair, 
 In silky flexure, with the sounding strings : 
 And hark ! the holy missionary sings. 
 'Tis the Gregorean chant : with him unites, 
 On either hand, his quire of neophytes, 
 While the boat cleaves its liquid path along, 
 And waters, woods, and winds protract the song. 
 
 Those unknown strains the forest war-whoop hush : 
 Huntsmen and warriours from their cabins rush, 
 Heed not the foe, that yells defiance nigh, 
 See not the deer, that dashes wildly by, 
 Drop from their hand the bow and rattling quiver, 
 Crowd to the shore, and plunge into the river, 
 Breast the green waves, the enchanted bark that toss, 
 Leap o'er her sides, and kneel before the cross : 
 
 Hear yon poetick pilgrim of the west, 
 Chant Musick's praise, and to her power attest. 15 
 Who now, in Florida's untrodden woods, 
 Bedecks, with vines of jessamine, her floods, 
 
PALESTINE. 27 
 
 And flowery bridges o'er them loosely throws ; 
 
 Who hangs the canvass where Atala glows, 
 
 On the live oak, in floating drapery shrouded, 
 
 That like a mountain rises, lightly clouded ; 
 
 Who, for the son ofcOutalissi, twines, 
 
 Beneath the shade of ever whispering pines, 
 
 A funeral wreath, to bloom upon the moss, 
 
 That Time already sprinkles on the cross, 
 
 Rais'd o'er the grave, where his young virgin sleeps, 
 
 And Superstition o'er her victim weeps ; 
 
 Whom now, the silence of the dead surrounds, 
 
 Among Scioto's monumental mounds ; 
 
 Save that, at times, the musing pilgrim hears 
 
 A crumbling oak fall with the weight of years, 
 
 To swell the mass, that Time and Ruin throw, 
 
 O'er chalky bones, that mouldering lie below, 
 
 By virtues unembalm'd, unstain'd by crimes, 
 
 Lost in those towering tombs of other times ; 
 
 For where no bard has cherish'd Virtue's flame, 
 
 No ashes sleep in the warm sun of Fame. 
 
 With sacred lore, this traveller beguiles 
 
 His weary way, while o'er him Fancy smiles. 
 
 Whether he kneels in venerable groves, 
 
 Or through the wide and green savanna roves, 
 
28 AIRS OF 
 
 His heart leaps lightly on each breeze, that bears 
 The faintest cadence of Idumea's airs. 
 
 Now, he recalls the lamentable wail, 
 That pierc'd the shades of Rama's palmy vale 18 
 When Murder struck, thron'd on an infant's bier, 
 A note, for Satan's, and for Herod's ear. 
 Now, on a bank, o'erhuug with waving wood, 
 Whose falling leaves flit o'er Ohio's flood, 
 The pilgrim stands ; and o'er his memory rushes 
 The mingled tide of tears, and blood, that gushes 
 Along tke valleys, where his childhood stray'd, 
 And round the temples where his fathers pray'd. 
 How fondly then, from all but Hope exil'd, 
 To Zion's wo recurs Religion's child ! 
 He sees the tear of Judah's captive daughters 
 Mingle, in silent flow, with Babel's waters ; 
 While Salem's harp, by patriot pride unstrung, 
 Wrapp'd in the mist, that o'er the river hung, 
 Felt but the breeze, that wanton'd o'er the billow, 
 And the long, sweeping fingers of the willow. 
 
 And could not Musick sooth the captive's wo ? 
 But should that harp be strung for Judah's foe ? 
 
PALESTINE. 29 
 
 While thus the enthusiast roams along the stream, 
 Balanc'd between a revery and a dream, 
 Backward he springs : and, through his bounding 
 
 heart, 
 
 The cold and curdling poison seems to dart. 
 For, in the leaves, beneath a quivering brake, 
 Spinning his death-note, lies a coiling snake, 
 Just in the act, with greenly venom'd fangs, 
 To strike the foot, that heedless o'er him hangs. 
 Bloated with rage, on spiral folds he rides ; 
 His rough scales shiver on his spreading sides ; 
 Dusky and dim his glossy neck becomes, 
 And freezing poisons thicken on his gums ; 
 His parch'd and hissing throat breathes hot and dry } 
 A spark of hell lies burning on his eye : 
 While, like a vapour, o'er his writhing rings, 
 Whirls his light tail, that threatens while it sings 
 
 Soon as dumb Fear removes her icy fingers 
 From off the heart, where gazing wonder lingers, 
 The pilgrim, shrinking from a doubtful fight, 
 Aware of danger, too, in sudden flight, 
 From his soft flute throws Musick's air around, 
 And meets his foe, upon enchanted ground. 
 3 
 
30 AIRS OF 
 
 See ! as the plaintive melody is flung, 
 
 The lightning flash fades on the serpent's tongue ; 
 
 The uncoiling reptile o'er each shining fold 
 
 Throws changeful clouds of azure, green and gold : 
 
 A softer lustre twinkles in his eye ; 
 
 His neck is burnished with a glossier dye ; 
 
 His slippery scales grow smoother to the sight, 
 
 And his relaxing circles roll in light. 
 
 Slowly the charm retires : with waving sides, 
 
 Along its track the graceful listner glides ; 
 
 While Musick throws her silver cloud around, 
 
 And bears her votary off, in raagick folds of sound. 
 
 On Arno's bosom, as he calmly flows, 
 And his cool arms round Vallombrosa throws, 
 Rolling his crystal tide through classick vales, 
 Alone, at night, the Italian boatman sails. 
 High o'er Mont Alto walks, in maiden pride, 
 Night's queen : he sees her image on that tide, 
 Now, ride the wave that curls its infant crest, 
 Around his prow, then rippling sinks to rest ; 
 Now, glittering dance around his eddying oar, 
 Whose every sweep is echoed from the shore : 
 Now, far before him, on a liquid bed 
 Of waveless water, rest her radiant head. 
 
PALESTINE, 31 
 
 How mild the empire of that virgin queen ! 
 
 How dark the mountain's shade ! how still the scene ! 
 
 Hush'd by her silver sceptre, zephyrs sleep 
 
 On dewy leaves, that overhang the deep, 
 
 Nor dare to whisper through the boughs, nor stir 
 
 The valley's willow, nor the mountain's fir, 
 
 Nor make the pale and breathless aspen quiver, 
 
 Nor brush, with ruffling wing, that glassy river. 
 
 Hark ! 'tis a convent's bell : its midnight chime. 
 For musick measures even the march of Time : 
 O'er bending trees, that fringe the distant shore, 
 Gray turrets rise : the eye can catch no more. 
 The boatman, listening to the tolling bell, 
 Suspends his oar : a low and solemn swell, 
 From the deep shade, that round the cloister lies, 
 Rolls through the air, and on the water dies. 
 What melting song wakes the cold ear of N^ight ? 
 A funeral dirge, that pale nuns, rob'd in white, 
 Chant round a sister's dark and narrow bed, 
 To charm the parting spirit of the dead. 
 Triumphant is the spell ! with rapttir'd ear, 
 That uncaged spirit hovering lingers near ;-- 
 
32 AIRS OF 
 
 Why should she mount ? why pant for brighter bliss, 
 A lovelier scene, a sweeter song, than this ! 
 
 On Caledonia's hills, the ruddy morn 
 Breathes fresh : the huntsman winds his clamo 
 rous horn. 
 
 The youthful minstrel from his pallet springs, 
 Seizes his harp, and tunes its slumbering strings. 
 Lark-like he mounts o'er gray rocks, thunder-riven, 
 Lark-like he cleaves the white mist, tempest-driven, 
 And lark-like carols, as the cliff he climbs, 
 Whose oaks were vocal with his earliest rhymes. 
 With airy foot he treads that giddy height ; 
 His heart all rapture, and his eye all light ; 
 His voice all melody, his yellow hair 
 Floating and dancing on the mountain air, 
 Shaking from its loose folds the liquid pearls, 
 That gather clustering on his golden curls ; 
 And, for a moment, gazes on a scene, 
 Ting'd with deep shade, dim gold, and brightening 
 
 green ; 
 
 Then plays a mournful prelude, while the star 
 Of morning fades : but when heaven's gates unbar, 
 
PALESTINE. 33 
 
 And on the world a tide of glory rushes, 
 Burns on the hill, and down the valley blushes ; 
 The mountain bard in livelier numbers sings, 
 While sunbeams warm and gild the conscious strings, 
 And his young bosom feels the enchantment strong, 
 Of light, and joy, and minstrelsy, and song. 
 
 From rising morn, the tuneful stripling roves, 
 Through smiling valleys and religious groves ; 
 Hears there, the flickering blackbird strain his throat, 
 Here, the lone turtle pour her mournful note, 
 Till night descends, and round the wanderer flings 
 The dew drops dripping from her dusky wings. 
 Far from his native vale, and humble shed, 
 By nature's smiles, and nature's musick led, 
 This child of melody has thoughtless stray'd, 
 Till darkness wraps him in her deep'ning shade. 
 The scene he smil'd on, when array'd in light, 
 Now lowers around him with the frown of night. 
 
 With weary foot the nearest height he climbs, 
 Crown'd with huge oaks, giants of other times ; 
 Who feel, but fear not autumn's breath, and cast 
 Their summer robes upon the roaring blast, 
 3* 
 
34 AIRS OF 
 
 And glorying in their majesty of form, 
 
 Toss their old arms, and challenge every storm. 
 
 Below him, Ocean rolls : deep in a wood, 
 
 Built on a rock, and frowning o'er the flood, 
 
 Like the dark Cyclops of Trinacria's isle, 
 
 Rises an old and venerable pile. 
 
 Gothick its structure ; once a cross it bore, 
 
 And pilgrims throng'd to hail it and adore. 
 
 Mitres and crosiers awed the trembling friar, 
 
 The solemn organ led the chanting quire, 
 
 When in those vaults the midnight dirge was sung, 
 
 And o'er the dead, a. rcquiescat rung. 
 
 IVow, all is still : the midnight anthem hush'd :- 
 
 The cross is crumbled, and the crosier crush'd. 
 
 And is all still ? No : round those ruin'd altars, 
 
 With feeble foot as our musician falters, 
 
 Faint, weary, lost, benighted, and alone, 
 
 He sinks, all trembling, on the threshold stone. 
 
 Here, nameless fears the young enthusiast chill : 
 
 They're superstitious, but religious still. 
 
 He hears the sullen murmur of the seas, 
 
 That tumble round the stormy Orcades, 
 
 Or, deep beneath him, burst with boundless roar. 
 
 Their sparkling surges on that savage shore , 
 
\ 
 
 PALESTINE. 
 
 And thinks a spirit rolls the weltering waves 
 Through rifted rocks, and hollow rumbling caves. 
 
 Round the dark windows clasping ivy clings, 
 Twines round the porch, and in the sea-breeze 
 
 swings ; 
 
 Its green leaves rustle : heavy winds arise : 
 The low cells echo, and the dark hall sighs. 
 Is that some demon's shriek, so loud and shrill, 
 Whose flapping robes sweep o'er the stormy hill ? 
 No 'tis the mountain blast, that nightly rages, 
 Around those walls, gray with the moss of ages. 
 Is that a ghost's red eye, beneath his shroud ? 
 No 'tis a star that glimmers through a cloud. 
 fs that a lamp sepulchral, whose pale light 
 Shines in yon vault, before a spectre white ? 
 No 'tis a meteor, swimming through the hall, 
 Or glow-worm, burning greenly on the wall. 
 What mighty organ swells its deepest tone, 
 And sighing heaves a low, funereal moan, 
 That murmurs through the cemetery's glooms. 
 And throws a deadlier horrour round its tombs ? 
 Sure, some dread spirit o'er the keys presides ! 
 Tho same that, lifts these darkly thundering tides ; 
 
36 AIRS OF 
 
 Or, homeless, shivers o'er an unclosed grave ; 
 Or shrieking, off at sea, bestrides the white-maneci 
 wave. 
 
 Yes ! 'tis some Spirit that those skies deforms, 
 And wraps in billowy clouds that hill of storms. 
 Yes : 'tis a Spirit in those vaults that dwells, 
 Illumes that hall, and murmurs in those cells. 
 Yes : 'tis some Spirit on the blast that rides, 
 And wakes the eternal tumult of the tides. 
 That Spirit broke the poet's morning dream, 
 Led him o'er woody hill and babbling stream, 
 Lur'd his young foot to every vale that rung, 
 And charm'd his ear in every bird that sung; 
 With various concerts cheer'd his hours of light, 
 But kept the mightiest in reserve till night ; 
 Then, thron'd in darkness, peal'd that wildest air, 
 
 Froze his whole soul, and chain'd the listner there. 
 
 
 
 That Mighty Spirit once from Teman came : 
 Clouds were his chariot, and his coursers flame. 17 
 Bow'd the perpetual hills : the rivers fled : 
 Green Ocean trembled to his deepest bed : 
 Earth shrunk aghast : eternal mountains burn'd, 
 And his red axle thunder' d as it turn'd. 
 
PALESTINE. 37 
 
 O ! Thou Dread Spirit ! Being's End and Source ! 
 O! check thy chariot in its fervid course. 
 Bend from thy throne of darkness and of fire, 
 And with one smile immortalize our lyre. 
 Amid the cloudy lustre of thy throne, 
 Though wreathy tubes, unheard on earth, are blown. 
 Swelling one ceaseless song of praise to tliee, 
 Eternal Author of Eternity ! 
 Still hast thou stoop'd to hear a shepherd play, 
 To prompt his measures, and approve his lay. 
 Hast thou grown old, Thou, who forever livest ! 
 Hast thou forgotten, Thou, who memory givest ! 
 How, on the day thine ark, with loud acclaim, 
 From Zion's hill to Mount Moriah came, 
 Beneath the wings of Cherubim to rest, 
 In a rich vail of Tyrian purple drest ; 
 When harps and cymbals join'd in echoing clang, 
 When psalteries tinkled, and when trumpets ran, 
 And white rob'd Levites round thine altar sang ; 
 Thou didst descend, and, rolling through the crowd, 
 Inshrine thine ark and altar in thy shroud, 
 And fill the temple with thy mantling cloud. 18 
 And now, Almighty Father, well we know, 
 When humble strains from grateful bosoms floyv% 
 
38 AIRS OF 
 
 Those humble strains grow richer as they rise, 
 And shed a balmier freshness on the skies. 
 
 What though no Cherubim are here displayed, 
 No gilded walls, no cedar colonnade, 
 No crimson curtains hang around our quire, 
 Wrought by the ingenious artisan of Tyre ; 
 No doors of fir on golden hinges turn ; 
 No spicy gums in golden censers burn ; 
 No frankincense, in rising volumes, shrouds 
 The fretted roof in aromatick clouds ; 
 No royal minstrel, from his ivory throne, 
 Gives thee his father's numbers or his own; 
 If humble love, if gratitude inspire, 
 Our strain shall silence even the temple's quire, 
 And rival Michael's trump, nor yield to Gabriel's 
 lyre. 
 
 In what rich harmony, what polished lays, 
 Should man address thy throne, when Nature pays 
 Her wild, her tuneful tribute to the sky ! 
 Yes, Lord, she sings thee, but she knows not why. 
 The fountain's gush, the long resounding shore, 
 The zephyr's whisper, and the tempest's roar, 
 
PALESTINE. 39 
 
 The rustling leaf, in autumn's fading woods, 
 
 The wintry storm, the rush of vernal floods, 
 
 The summer bower, by cooling breezes fann'd, 
 
 The torrent's fall, by dancing rainbows spann'd, 
 
 The streamlet, gurgling through its rocky glen, 
 
 The long grass, sighing o'er the graves of men, 
 
 The bird that crests yon dew-bespangled tree, 
 
 Shakes his bright plumes, and trills his descant free, 
 
 The scorching bolt, that from thine armoury hurPd, 
 
 Burns its red path, and cleaves a shrinking world ; 
 
 All these are musick to Religion's ear : 
 
 Musick, thy hand awakes, for man to hear. 
 
 Thy hand invested in their azure robes, 
 
 Thy breath made buoyant yonder circling globes, 
 
 That bound and blaze along the elastick wires, 
 
 That viewless vibrate on celestial lyres, 
 
 And in that high and radiant concave tremble, 
 
 Beneath whose dome adoring hosts assemble, 
 
 To catch the notes, from those bright spheres that 
 
 flow, 
 Which mortals dream of, but which angels know. 
 
 Before thy throne, three sister Graces kneel ; 
 Their holy influence let our bosoms feel ! 
 

 40 AIRS OF PALESTINE. 
 
 FAITH, that with smiles lights up our dying eyes ; 
 HOPE, that directs them to the opening skies ; 
 And CHARITY, I!) the loveliest of the three, 
 That can assimilate a worm to thee. 
 For her our organ breathes ; to her we pay 
 The heart-felt homage of an humble lay ; 
 And while to her symphonious chords we string, 
 And Silence listens wjiile to her we sing, 
 While round thine altar swells our evening song, 
 And vaulted roofs the dying notes prolong, 
 The strain we pour to her, wilt thou approve, 
 For LOYE is CHARITY, and THOU art LOVE. 
 
NOTES. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 1 That rending anthem on the wild was flung, 
 From Miriam's timbrel and from Moses' tongue. 
 
 For the song of Moses, on this occasion, see Exodus xv, 
 1-22. 
 
 2 At Nebo's base, that mighty bard resigns 
 His life and empire, in prophetick lines. 
 
 See the whole of the pathetick and eloquent valedictory 
 address of Moses to the Israelites, in the xxxii. chapter of 
 Deuteronomy, from. the beginning to the 43d verse. Hii 
 death, and other events here mentioned, follow in regular 
 course. 
 
 3 Hangs over Jericho's devoted towers, 
 
 And, like the storm o'er Sodom, redly lowers. 
 
 For the account of the destruction of Jericho, by the Jew?, 
 under the command of Joshua, see Joshua vi. particularly 
 verse 20th, " So the people shouted, when the priests 
 blew the trumpets j and it came to pass, when the people 
 
44 NOTES. 
 
 heard the sound of the trumpets, and the people shouted 
 with a great shout, that the wall fell down flat, so that 
 the people went up into the city, every man straight before 
 him, and they took the city." 
 
 4 And cold and pale o'er Ajalon she hung. 
 
 Then spake Joshua to the Lord, in the day when the 
 Lord delivered up the Amorites before the children of 
 Israel, ' Sun, stand thou still upon Gibeon, and thou Moon, 
 in the valley of Ajalon. And the sun stood still, and the 
 inoon stayed, until the people had avenged themselves 
 lapon their enemies.' Josh. x. 12, 13. 
 
 s And builds on Libanus his humble shed. 
 
 Horeb et Sinai, le Carmel et le Liban, le torrent de 
 Cedron, et la valtee de Josaphat, redise encore la glorie 
 de Inhabitant de la cellule et de Panachorete du rocksr. 
 Genie du Christianisme, torn iv. p. 48, Lyons Edit. 
 
 But o'er his face his flowing mantle flings, 
 And hears a whisper from the King of Kings. 
 
 And after the earthquake a fire ; but the Lord was not 
 in the fire j and after the fire, a still small voice. And it 
 was so, when Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in 
 his mantle, and went out, and stood in the entering in of 
 the cave. And behold, there came a voice unto him, and 
 said, what dost thou here, Elijah p 1 Kings, xix. 12 IS. 
 
 7 In what tremendous pomp Jehovah shone, 
 When on that mount he fixed his burning throne ! 
 
NOTES. 45 
 
 See the sublime account of the descent of God upon 
 Mount Sinai. Exodus xix. particularly from the 16th to 
 the 19th verse, as also#e&. xii. 1821. 
 
 8 Even now, the heralds of his monarch tear 
 The son of Jesse from his fleecy care. 
 
 Wherfore Saul sent out messengers unto Jesse, and said, 
 Send me David thy son, which is with the sheep. And 
 Jesse took an ass, laden with bread, and a bottle of wine, 
 and a kid, and sent them by David his son unto Saul. And 
 David came to Saul, and stood before him ; and he loved 
 him greatly, and he became his armour-bearer. And Saul 
 sent to Jesse, saying, Let David, I pray thee, stand before 
 me ; for he hath found favour in my eight. And it came 
 to pass, that when the evil spirit from God was upon Saul, 
 that David took an harp, and played with his hand ; so 
 Saul was refreshed, and was well, and the evil spirit de 
 parted from him....l Sam. xvi. 19.... 23. 
 
 8 The night was moonless : Judah's shepherds kept 
 Their starlight watch j their flocks around them slept. 
 
 And there were in the same country, shepherds abiding 
 in the field, keeping watch over their flocks, by night. 
 And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the 
 glory of the Lord shone about them. See the whole ac 
 count, Luke ii. 8 15. 
 
 10 Saw, in the stillness of a starry night, 
 The Swan and Eagle wing their silent flight. 
 
46 NOTES. 
 
 To the reader, who is but superficially acquainted with 
 astronomy, m explanatory note is here necessary. To 
 others it is enough to observe, that the Swan, the Eagle^ 
 Berenice's lock, Bootes, the Pleiades, the Lyre, and Auriga 
 or the Charioteer, are the names of constellations, or the 
 parts of constellations, visible in the northern hemis 
 phere of course in Palestine. Cynosure is the classical 
 name of the Pole-star. 
 
 11 With thundering crash, are burst bolts,bars and locks ; 
 Rent are their chains, and shivered are their stocks. 
 
 And when they had laid many stripes upon them, (Paul 
 and Silas) they cast them into prison, charging the jailer 
 to keep them safely, who having received such a charge, 
 thrust them into the prison, and made their feet fast in the 
 stocks. And at midnight Paul and Silas prayed, and sang 
 praises unto God, and the prisoners heard them. And sud 
 denly there was a great earthquake, so that the founda 
 tions of the prison were shaken, and immediately the doors 
 were opened, and every one's bands were loosed. A ds, 
 xvi. 2326. 
 
 12 They cross the stream that bathes its foot, and dashes 
 Around the tomb where sleep a monarch's ashes. 
 
 The valley of Jehoshaphat is between Jerusalem and 
 the Mount of Olives, on the east. Through this valley 
 flows the brook Kedron, or Cedron : on the eastern bank 
 of this river stands the tomb of Jehoshaphat. 
 
NOTES. 47 
 
 -they pour the song of sorrow, 
 
 With their lov'd Lord,- 
 
 In this deeply interesting scene, I have taken the lib 
 erty of varying the order in which the events of the evening 
 before the crucifixion occurred ; in that I have supposed 
 the hymn to be sung after crossing the Kedron, and ascend 
 ing the mount of Olives.... rat her than in he supper 
 chamber, as stated by Matthew. With this acknowledg 
 ment, I presume the license will be excused. I considered 
 the scene thus laid, more poetical, and not less solemn or 
 religious.... See Matth. xxvi. 30, 31. 
 
 14 Lights on the intrepid Jesuit's humble prow. 
 
 Let not the protestant reader be alarmed at seeing a 
 Jesuit in company with Musick and Religion. I do as 
 sure him, it is a supposable case. 1 am not ignorant of the 
 fact, that many accounts of the arts and ambition of this 
 order of Christians, have been given to the world, which 
 are not the most favourable to the purity or disinterested 
 ness of their piety j and I am well aware, that, if poetry 
 and fiction are synonymous terms, there is but little poetry 
 in too many of these accounts. But let the protestant rea 
 der recollect, that most of these views have been drawn by 
 protestant pencils...." Let us lions be the painters," say 
 the Jesuits, and we will shew you a very different picture. 
 One of their pieces of coloured canvass I will lay before 
 my readers, as well to shew that I do not think the above 
 request unreasonable, as to explain what may want expla 
 nation, in this scene of my poem : 
 
48 NOTES. 
 
 " II restait encore, aux pieds des CordiliSrea, vers le 
 cote qui regarde 1' Atlantique, entre 1' Orerwque et Rio 
 de la Plata, un pays immense, rempli de Sauvages, oft 
 les Espagnols n'avaient point porte la devastation. Ce 
 fut dans ces epaisses forets que les missionaires entreprirent 
 de former une republique chretienne et de donner du moins 
 a un petit nombre d'lndiens, le bonheur quails n'avaient pu 
 procurer a tous. 
 
 *' Ils commence rent par obtenir de la cour d'Espagne la 
 liberte de tous les Sauvages qu'ils parviendraient a reunir. 
 A cette nouvelle, les colons se souleverent j ce ne fut qu'a 
 force d'esprit et d'addresse que les JSsuites surprirent, pour 
 ainsi dire, la permission de verser leur sang dans les forets 
 du Nouveau-Monde. Enfin, ayant triomphe de la cupidite 
 et de la malice humaine ; meditant un des plus nobles 
 desseins qu'ait jamais concus un cceur d'homme, ils s'era- 
 barquerent pour Rio de la Plata. 
 
 " C'est dans ce grand fleuve que vient se perdre cet 
 autre fleuve, qui a donne son nom an pays et aux missions, 
 dont nous retracons 1'histoire. Paraguay, dans la langue 
 des Sauvages, signifie le Fleuve courronne, parce qu'il 
 prend sa source dans le lac Xarayes, qui lui sert comme 
 de couronne. Avant d'aller grossir Rio de la Plata, il 
 recoit les eaux du Parama et de 1' Uruguay. Des forets 
 qui renferment dans leur sein d'autres forets tombees de 
 vieillesse, des marais et des plaines entierement inondees 
 dans la saisou des pluies, des montagnes qui elevaut d f es 
 deserts, sur des deserts, forment une partie des vastes 
 regions que le Paraguay arrose. Le gibier de toute espece 
 y abonde, ainsi que les tigres et les ours. Les bois sont 
 remplis d'abeilles, qui font une cire fort blanche, et un 
 miel tres parfume. On y voit des oiseaux d'un plu 
 mage clatant, et qui ressemblent a de grandes fleurs 
 
NOTES. 49 
 
 rouges et bleues, sur la verdure des arbres. Un mission- 
 oaire Francais, qui s'etait egare dans ces solitudes, en 
 fait la peinture suivante. 
 
 41 Je continuai ma route sans savoir a quel terrne elle 
 devait aboutir, et sans qu'il y eut personne qui put me 
 Penseigner. Je trouvais quelquefois au milieu de ces bois 
 des endroits enchantes. Tout ce que 1'etude et Pindustrie 
 des hommes ont pu imaginer pour rend re un lieu agreable, 
 n'approche point de c.e que la simple nature y arait ras- 
 semble de beautes. 
 
 " Ces lieux charmans rae rappelerent les idees que 
 j'avais eues atitrefoi^, en lisant les vies des anciens soli 
 taires de la Thebai'de ; il me vint en pensee de passer le 
 reste de mes jours dans ces forets ou la Providence m'avait 
 -conduit, pour y vaquer uniquement a Paffaire de raon 
 salut, loin de tout commerce avec les hommes ; mais com- 
 me je n'etais pas le maitre de ma destinee, et que les 
 ordres du Seigneur m'etaient certainment marques par 
 ceux de mes superieurs, je rejetai cetle pensee comme une 
 illusion." 
 
 " Les Indiens que Pon rencontrait dans ces retraites, ne 
 Jeur ressemblaient que par le cote affreux. Race indolente, 
 stupide et feroce, elle montrait dans toute sa laideur 
 Phomme primitif degrade par sa chute. Rien ne prouve 
 davantage la degeneration de la nature humaine, que la 
 petitesse du Sauvage, dans le grandeur du desert. 
 
 44 Arrives a Buenos Ayris, les missionnaires remonte- 
 rent Rio de, la Plata, et entrant dans les eaux du Para' 
 guay, se disperserent dans ses bois sauvages. Les ancien- 
 nes relations nous les represented, un breviaire sous le 
 bras gauche, une grande croix a la main droite, et sans 
 autre provision que leur confiance en Dieu. Us nous les 
 peigueiit, se faisant jour a travers les forets, marchant daas 
 5 
 
 fi/l cr Q r A A 
 
50 NOTES. 
 
 des terres marecageuses ou ils avaienl de I'eau jusqu' a la 
 ceinture, gravissant des roches escarpees, et furelani clans 
 les aritres et les precipices, au risque d'y trouver des ser- 
 pens et des betes feroces, au lieu des hommes qu'ils y 
 cherchaient. 
 
 " Plusieurs d'entr'eux y moururent de faim et de 
 fatigues ; d'autres furent massacres et devores par les Sau- 
 vages. Le pere LAzardi fut trouve perce de fleches sur 
 un rocher ; son corps etait a demi dechire par les oiseaux 
 de proic, et son breviare etait ouvert aupres de lui a 
 1'office des iMorts. Quand un missionnaire rencontrait ainsi 
 les restes d'un de ses compagnons, il s'empressait de leur 
 rend re les honneurs funehres ; et plein d'une grande joie, 
 il chautait un Te Deum solitaire sur le tombeau du Martyr, 
 De pareilles scenes, renouvelees a chaque instant, 
 etonnaient les hordes barbares. Quelquefois elles s'ar- 
 retaient autour du pretre inconuu qui leur parlait de Dieu, 
 et elles regardaient le ciel que 1'apotre leur mbntrait j 
 quelquefois elles le fuyaient comme un enchanteur, et se 
 sentaient saisies d'une frayeur etrange : le Religieux lei 
 suivait en leur tendant les mains au nom de Jesus-Christ. 
 S'il ue pouvait les arreter, il plantait sa grande croix dans 
 un lieu decouvert, et s'allait cacher dans les bois. Les 
 Sauvages s'approchaient peu a peu pour examiner 1'etend- 
 ard de paix, eleve dans la solitude; un aimant secret 
 semblait les attirer a ce signe de leur salut. Alors le 
 missionnaire sortant tout-a-coup de son einbuscade, et pro- 
 fitant de la surprise des Barbares, les invitait quitter une 
 vie miserable pour jouir des douceurs de la societe. 
 
 " Quand les Jesuites se fuerent attache quelques Indiens, 
 Jls eurent recours a un autre moyen pourgagner des ames. 
 Ils avaient remarque que les Sauvages de ces bords etaient 
 fort sensibles a la musique; on dit meme que les eaux du 
 
NOTES. 51 
 
 Paraguay rendent la voix plus belle. Les'raissionnaireal'em- 
 barquerent done sur des pirogues avec les nouveaux cate- 
 chumenes ; ils remonterent les flcuves, en chantant de saints 
 cantiques. Les neophytes repetaient les airs, eorarae des 
 oiseaux prives chantent pour attirer dans les rets de Poise- 
 leur les oiseaux sauvages. Les Indiens ne manquerent point 
 dese venir prendre an douxpiege. Ilsdescendaient deleurs 
 montagnes, et accouraient an bord des fleuves, pour mieux 
 ecouter ces accens. Plusieurs d'entr'eux se jetaient dans 
 Ses ondes, et suivaient a la nage la nacelle enchantee. La 
 Itine, en repandant sa lumiere mysterieuse sur ces scenes 
 extraordinaires, achevait d ? attendrir les cceurs. L'arc et 
 ia tieche echappaierit a la main du Sauvage; Pavant-gout 
 des vertus sociales, et les premieres douceurs de de I'lm- 
 manite, entraient dans son ame confuse. II voyait sa 
 femme et son enfant pleurer d'une joie inconnue ; bientot 
 rubjugue par un attrait irresistible, il tombait au pied de 
 Ja croix, et melait des torrens de larmes aux eaux rege- 
 neratrices qui coulaient sur sa tete. 
 
 Ainsi la religion chretienne realisait dans les forets de 
 i'Amerique, ce que la fable raoonte des Amphion et des 
 Orphee : reflexion si naturelle, qu'elle s'est presentee 
 rneme aux missionnaires ; tant il est certain qu'on ne dit 
 iei que la verite en ayant Pair de raconter une fiction." 
 Chateuubriand, Genie du Chris tianisme, torn. vm. chap. 
 iv. p. 4048, 
 
 15 Hear yon poeticlc pilgrim of the west, 
 
 Ciiant Musick's praise, and to her power attest. 
 
 Chateaubriand. Perhaps I ought to apologize to this 
 gentleman, perhaps I owe the apology to the reader, 
 for so frequently introducing him. The truth is, I find 
 
52 NOTES. 
 
 him vtry useful. If the facts stated by him are adapted to 
 my purpose, I have a right to use them ; if the truth of 
 his stories is questionable, his is the responsibility, not 
 mine. I screen myself from blame, if 
 
 | 
 
 " I tell the tale as His told to me." 
 
 This gentleman, it seems, has travelled through the United 
 States, from the mouth of the Mississippi to the St. Law 
 rence. In Florida and the western States, he has laid the 
 scene of his u Atala," an exquisite little assemblage of 
 beauties and absurdities. This little poem, or rather 
 episode, forms a part of his great work * Genie du Chris- 
 tianisrne,' or the Beauties of the Christian Religion. It 
 has been translated separately, and will be read with plea~ 
 sure by most lovers of polite literature. The allusions 
 here to Atala may be briefly explained by observing, that 
 Chactas, son of Outalissi, is the hero, and Atala the hero 
 ine of the poem that Atala poisons herself rather than 
 violate an oath of celibacy, imposed by little less than the 
 legal duress per minus; and this act, upon which a coro 
 ner's iuquest would return a verdict either of suicide, or 
 insanity, is considered by our author as an unequivocal 
 proof of her piety. The Florida scenery the live oak, 
 mantled in its loose mossy drapery the laurel the jessa 
 mine that hangs in graceful festoons over the waters are 
 all beautifully described, because the painting is from the 
 life. His notice of the celebrated and wonderful barrows, 
 or monumental tumuli, upon our western rivers, and his 
 story of the serpent, charmed by the flute of the Canadian, 
 will be seen in the passages here introduced from his work. 
 As to the story of the snake, what he says he surv, we 
 may perhaps believe, particularly as accounts somewhat 
 
NOTES. 53 
 
 similar are given by others. Besides, though M. de 
 Chateaubriand certainly does tell tales, that occasionally 
 happen to partake of the marvellous, I do not know that 
 he has yet been publicly convicted of stating what is false, 
 in regard to what has fallen under his own observation. 
 There are those, indeed, who question his veracity even 
 there where he has nothing to do with saints or legends 
 and I must, for myself, confess that my own opinion of his 
 veracity has been somewhat shaken, by a French gentle 
 man, a general officer under Bonaparte, and for sometime 
 a member of the National Institute, who tells me that he 
 knows M. de Chateaubriand personally, though not inti 
 mately for he claims to be a man of honour, and appears 
 to be so and that he knows him not only to be, but to 
 have been, in the pay of the French police, as a spy upon 
 his fellow citizens and that he therefore ought to be, and 
 is universally despised. So much for the author of the 
 Genie du Christianisme, Martyrs, Travels, fyc. Here, then, 
 follows a part of what I have made use of, remember 
 ing always that I am not writing history, but poetry. Of 
 the " Monumental mounds 7 * he says : 
 
 u On a decouvert depuis quelques annees, dans I'Ame- 
 rique septentrionale, des monumens extraordinaires sur les 
 bords du Muskingum, du Miami, du Wabache, de POhio, 
 et sur-tout du Scioto, ou ils occupent un espace de plus de 
 vingt lieues en longueur. Ce sont des murs en terre avec 
 des fosses, des glacis, des lunes, demi-lunes et de grands 
 cones qui servent de sepulcres. On a demande, mais, sang 
 succes, quel peuple a laisse de pareilles traces. L'homme 
 est suspendu dans 5e present, entre le passe et l'avenir r 
 comme sur un rocher entre deux gouffres: derriere lui, 
 devant lui, tout est tenebresj a peine appercoit il quel 
 ques fantomes qui, remontant do fond des deux abyiaea, 
 6 
 
54 NOTES. 
 
 surnagent un instant a leur surface, et s'y replongent pour 
 jamais." 
 
 " Pour nous, amant solitaire de la nature, et simple 
 confesseur de la Divinit nous nous sommesassis sur ces 
 ruines. Voyageur sans renom, nous avons cause avec 
 ces debris, comrae nous mime ignores. Les souvenirs 
 confus des hommes, et les vagues reveries du desert, se 
 naelaient au fond de notreame. La nuit etait an milieu de sa 
 course ; tout tait muet, et la lune, et les bois, et les torn- 
 beaux. Seulement a longs intervalles on entendait la chute 
 de quelque arbre, que la hache du temps abattait, dans la 
 profondeur des forets : ainsi tout tombe, tout s'ane'antit.'* 
 
 *' Enfin, ces raonumens prennent leurs racines dans des 
 jours beaucoup plus recules que cenx ou 1'on a decouvert 
 1' Antique. Nous avons vu sur ces ruines un chene 
 decrepit, qui avait poussS sur les debris d'un autre chene 
 tombe a ses pieds, et dont il ne restait plus que 1'ecorce; 
 celui-ci S, son tour s'etait eleve sur un troisieme, et ce 
 troisieme, sur un quartrieme. L'emplacement des deux 
 derniers se marquait encore par Pintersection de deux 
 cercles, d'un aubier rouge et petrifie, qu'on decouvrait a 
 fleur de terre, en ecartant nn epais humus compose de 
 feuilles et de mousses. Accordez suelement trois siecles 
 de vie a ces quatre chenes successifs, et viola une epoque 
 de douze cents annees que la nature a gravee sur ceg 
 ruines." Genie du Christianisme, Tom. i. pp. 212... .215, 
 276.... 7. 
 
 As to the nature of the serpent generally, and his taste 
 for Musick, in particular, this is the account of our 
 author : 
 
 " Notre siecle rejette avec hauteur tout ce qui tient de 
 la merveiJle : sciences, arts> morale, religion, tout reste 
 desenchante. Le serpent a souvent etc 1'objet de nos 
 
NOTES. 5 
 
 observations; et si nous osons le dire, nous avons cru 
 reconnaitre en lui cet esprit pernicieux et cette subtilite 
 que lui attribue PEcriture. Tout est mysterieux, cache, 
 etonnant dans cet incomprehensible reptile. Ses mouve- 
 niens different de ceuxf de tous les autres animaux ; on ne 
 saurait dire oii git le principe de son deplacement, car il 
 n'a ni nageoires, ni pieds, ni ailes ; et cependant il fuit 
 comme une ombre, il s'evanouit magiquemeut, il reparait 
 disparait encore, semblable It une petite fumSe d'azur, ou 
 aux eclairs d'un glaive dans les tenebres. TantSt il se forme 
 en cercle, et darde une langue de feu ; tantot, debout 
 sur 1'extremite de sa queue, il marche dans une attitude 
 perpendiculaire, comme par enchantement. II se jette en 
 orbe, monte et s'abaisse en spirale, roule ses anneaux 
 comme une onde, circule sur les branches des arbres, 
 glisse sous I'herbe des prairies, ou sur la surface des eaux. 
 Ses couleurs sont aussi peu determinees que sa marche j 
 elles changent si tous les aspects de la lumiere, et comme 
 ses mouvemens, elles ont le faux brillant et les varietes 
 trompeusee de la seduction. 
 
 *' Plus Etonnant encore dans le reste de ses moBurs, il 
 sait, ainsi qu'u homme souille de meutre, jeter a Pecart 
 sa robe tachee de sang, dans la crainte d'etre reconnu. 
 Par une etrange faculle il pent faire rentrer dans son sein 
 les petits monstres que 1'amour en a fait sortir. II som- 
 meiile des mois entiers, frequente des tombeaux, habite 
 des lieux inconnus, compose des poisons qui glacent, brfi- 
 lent ou tachent le corps de sa victime des couleurs dont il 
 est lui meme marque. La, il leve deux tetes ; menacan- 
 tes ; ici, il fait entendre une sonnette ; il siffle comme un 
 aigle de montagne ; il mngit comme uu taureau. 11 
 s'associe nature", lement a toutes les idees morales ou reli- 
 Reuses, comme par une suite de llofluence qu r il cut sur 
 
3fi NOTES. 
 
 nog destinees : objet d'horreur ou d'adoration, les hommes 
 ont pour lui une haine implacable, ou tombent devant 
 son genie ; le raensonge Pappelle, la prudence le reclame, 
 Penvie le porte dans son coeur, et 1 'eloquence a son cadu- 
 cee; aux enfers il arme les fouets des furies, au ciel 
 Peternite en fait son symbole ; il possede encore Part de 
 seduire Pinnocence j ses regards enchantent les oiseaux 
 dans les airs j et sous la fougere de la crfcche, la brebis 
 lui abandonne son lait. Mais il se laisse lui-meme char 
 mer par de doux sons ; et pour le dompter, le berger n'a 
 besoin que de sa flute. 
 
 44 Au mois de juillet 1791, nous voyagions dans le 
 Haut-Canada, avec quelques families sauvages de la nation 
 des Onontagues. Un jour que nous etions arret^s dans 
 une grande plaine, au bord de la riviere Genesie. un 
 serpent a sonnettes entra dans notre camp. II y avait 
 parmi nous un Canadien qui jouiat de la flute ; il voulut 
 nous divertir, et s'avance contre le serpent, avec son 
 arme d'une nouvelle espece. A 1'approche de son ennemi, 
 le superbe reptile se forme en spirale, aplatit sa tete, enfle 
 ses joues, contracte ses levres, decouvre ses dents empois- 
 onnees et sa gueule sanglante ; sa double langue brandit 
 comme deaux flammes ; ses yeux charbons ardens ; son 
 corps, gonfle de rage, s'abaisse et s'eleve comme les souf- 
 flets d'une forge ; sa peau dilatee devient terne et ecail- 
 leuse ; et sa queue, dont il sort un bruit sinistre, oscille 
 avec tant de rapidite, qu'elle ressemble a une legere va- 
 peur. 
 
 44 Alors les Canadien commence a jouer sur sa flute, le 
 serpent fait un mouvement de surprise, et retire la tete en 
 arriere. A niesure qu'il est frappe de Peffet magique, ses 
 yeux perdent leur aprete, les vibrations de sa queue se 
 ralentissent, et le bruit qu'elle fait entendre, s'affaiblit et 
 
NOTES. 57 
 
 meurt peu a pen. Moins perpendiculaires gur leur ligne 
 spirale, les orbes du serpent charme, par degres s'elargis- 
 sent, et viennent tour a tour se poser sur la terre en cer- 
 cles concentriques. Les nuances d'azur, de verd, de blanc 
 et d'or reprennent leur eclat sur sa peau fremissante, et 
 touraant legerement la tete, il demeuce immobile dans 
 P attitude de ^attention et du plaisir. 
 
 " Dans ce moment le Canadien marche quelques pas, en 
 tirant de sa flute des sons doux et monotones ; le reptile 
 baisse son cou nuance, entr'ouvre avec sa tete les herbes 
 fines, et se met a ramper sur les traces du musicien qui 
 Pentraine, s'arretant lorsqu'il s'arrete, et recommencant a 
 le suivre, quand il recommence s'eloigner. II fut ainsi 
 conduit hors de notre camp, au milieu d'une foule de 
 spectateurs tant Sauvages qu'Europ^ens qui en croyaient 
 a peine leurs yeux, a cette ineiveille de la melodie: il 
 n'y cut qu'une seule voix dans 1'assemblee, pour qu'on 
 laissat le merveilleux serpent s'6chapper." 
 
 Ibid. pp. 174179. 
 
 16 Now, he recalls the lamentable wail, 
 
 That pierc'd the shade of Rama's palmy vale, 
 See Matthew, il. 1618. 
 
 17 That Mighty Spirit once from Teman came : 
 Clouds were his chariot, and his coursers flame. 
 
 God came from Teman, and the Holy One from Mount 
 Paran, 4'c.-- See Habak. iii. 317. 
 
 18 Thou didst descend, and, rolling through the croud, 
 Inshrine think ark and altar in thy shroud, 
 
 And fill the temple with thy mantling cloud. 
 
 
38 NOTES. 
 
 
 
 And it came to pass, when the priests were come out 
 of the holy place, (for all the priests that were present 
 were sanctified, and did not then wait by course : Also- 
 the Levites, which were the singers ; all of them of Asaph 
 of Heman, of Jedtithun, with their sons and their brethren ; 
 being arrayed in white linen, having cymbals and psalte 
 ries, and harps, stood at the east end of the altar, and 
 with them an hundred and twenty priests, sounding with 
 trumpets :) It came to pass, as the trumpeters and singers 
 were as one, to make one sound to be heard in praising 
 and thanking the Lord ; and when they lifted up their 
 voice with the trumpets and instruments of musick, and 
 praised the Lord, saying For he is good, for his mercy 
 endureth forever ; and then the house was filled with a 
 cloud, even the house of the Lord j so that the priests 
 could not stand to minister by reason of the cloud; for the 
 glory of the Lord had filled the house of God. '2 Chron* 
 v. 11... .14. 
 
 19 It was originally intended that the recitation of this 
 
 poem should form a part of the performances of an even - 
 ing concert of sacred musick for charitable purposes. 
 
 
14 DAY USE 
 
m 
 
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