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The Mysteries of Udolpho

Page 389

Monsieur Du Pont, immediately on their arrival, went down to the quay,

where he heard of several French vessels, and of one, that was to sail,

in a few days, for Marseilles, from whence another vessel could be

procured, without difficulty, to take them across the gulf of Lyons

towards Narbonne, on the coast not many leagues from which city he

understood the convent was seated, to which Emily wished to retire.

He, therefore, immediately engaged with the captain to take them to

Marseilles, and Emily was delighted to hear, that her passage to France

was secured.

Her mind was now relieved from the terror of pursuit, and

the pleasing hope of soon seeing her native country--that country which

held Valancourt, restored to her spirits a degree of cheerfulness, such

as she had scarcely known, since the death of her father. At Leghorn

also, Du Pont heard of his regiment, and that it had embarked for

France; a circumstance, which gave him great satisfaction, for he could

now accompany Emily thither, without reproach to his conscience, or

apprehension of displeasure from his commander. During these days, he

scrupulously forbore to distress her by a mention of his passion, and

she was compelled to esteem and pity, though she could not love him. He

endeavoured to amuse her by shewing the environs of the town, and they

often walked together on the sea-shore, and on the busy quays, where

Emily was frequently interested by the arrival and departure of vessels,

participating in the joy of meeting friends, and, sometimes, shedding

a sympathetic tear to the sorrow of those, that were separating. It was

after having witnessed a scene of the latter kind, that she arranged the

following stanzas:

THE MARINER

Soft came the breath of spring; smooth flow'd the tide;

And blue the heaven in its mirror smil'd;

The white sail trembled, swell'd, expanded wide,

The busy sailors at the anchor toil'd. With anxious friends, that shed the parting tear,

The deck was throng'd--how swift the moments fly!

The vessel heaves, the farewel signs appear;

Mute is each tongue, and eloquent each eye! The last dread moment comes!--The sailor-youth

Hides the big drop, then smiles amid his pain,

Sooths his sad bride, and vows eternal truth,

'Farewel, my love--we shall--shall meet again!' Long on the stern, with waving hand, he stood;

The crowded shore sinks, lessening, from his view,

As gradual glides the bark along the flood;

His bride is seen no more--'Adieu!--adieu!' The breeze of Eve moans low, her smile is o'er,

Dim steals her twilight down the crimson'd west,

He climbs the top-most mast, to seek once more

The far-seen coast, where all his wishes rest. He views its dark line on the distant sky,

And Fancy leads him to his little home,

He sees his weeping love, he hears her sigh,

He sooths her griefs, and tells of joys to come. Eve yields to night, the breeze to wintry gales,

In one vast shade the seas and shores repose;

He turns his aching eyes,--his spirit fails,

The chill tear falls;--sad to the deck he goes! The storm of midnight swells, the sails are furl'd,

Deep sounds the lead, but finds no friendly shore,

Fast o'er the waves the wretched bark is hurl'd,

'O Ellen, Ellen! we must meet no more!' Lightnings, that shew the vast and foamy deep,

The rending thunders, as they onward roll,

The loud, loud winds, that o'er the billows sweep--

Shake the firm nerve, appall the bravest soul! Ah! what avails the seamen's toiling care!

The straining cordage bursts, the mast is riv'n;

The sounds of terror groan along the air,

Then sink afar;--the bark on rocks is driv'n! Fierce o'er the wreck the whelming waters pass'd,

The helpless crew sunk in the roaring main!

Henry's faint accents trembled in the blast--

'Farewel, my love!--we ne'er shall meet again!' Oft, at the calm and silent evening hour,

When summer-breezes linger on the wave,

A melancholy voice is heard to pour

Its lonely sweetness o'er poor Henry's grave! And oft, at midnight, airy strains are heard

Around the grove, where Ellen's form is laid;

Nor is the dirge by village-maidens fear'd,

For lovers' spirits guard the holy shade!

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