Clinton Scollard - "From The Lips of the Sea"

Roy Rockwood - "The Wizard of the Sea"

Various - "Knickerbocker, or New York Monthly Magazine, March 1844"

Ruth McEnery Stuart - "Moriah's Mourning and Other Half Hour Sketches"

Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore

T >> Thomas Moore et al >> The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore




Nor did the marvel cease with her--
New Eves in all her daughters came,
As strong to charm, as weak to err,
As sure of man thro' praise and blame,
Whate'er they brought him, pride or shame,
He still the unreasoning worshipper,
And they, throughout all time, the same
Enchantresses of soul and frame,
Into whose hands, from first to last,
This world with all its destinies,
Devotedly by heaven seems cast,
To save or ruin as they please!
Oh! 'tis not to be told how long,
How restlessly I sighed to find
Some _one_ from out that witching throng,
Some abstract of the form and mind
Of the whole matchless sex, from which,
In my own arms beheld, possest,
I might learn all the powers to witch,
To warm, and (if my fate unblest
_Would_ have it) ruin, of the rest!
Into whose inward soul and sense,
I might descend, as doth the bee
Into the flower's deep heart, and thence
Rifle in all its purity
The prime, the quintessence, the whole
Of wondrous Woman's frame and soul!
At length my burning wish, my prayer--
(For such--oh! what will tongues not dare,
When hearts go wrong?--this lip preferred)--
At length my ominous prayer was heard--
But whether heard in heaven or hell,
Listen--and thou wilt know _too_ well.

There was a maid, of all who move
Like visions o'er this orb most fit.
To be a bright young angel's love--
Herself so bright, so exquisite!
The pride too of her step, as light
Along the unconscious earth she went,
Seemed that of one born with a right
To walk some heavenlier element,
And tread in places where her feet
A star at every step should meet.
'Twas not alone that loveliness
By which the wildered sense is caught--
Of lips whose very breath could bless;
Of playful blushes that seemed naught
But luminous escapes of thought;
Of eyes that, when by anger stirred,
Were fire itself, but at a word
Of tenderness, all soft became
As tho' they could, like the sun's bird,
Dissolve away in their own flame--
Of form, as pliant as the shoots
Of a young tree, in vernal flower;
Yet round and glowing as the fruits,
That drop from it in summer's hour;--
'Twas not alone this loveliness
That falls to loveliest women's share,
Tho' even here her form could spare
From its own beauty's rich excess
Enough to make even _them_ more fair--
But 'twas the Mind outshining clear
Thro' her whole frame--the soul, still near,
To light each charm, yet independent
Of what it lighted, as the sun
That shines on flowers would be resplendent
Were there no flowers to shine upon--
'Twas this, all this, in one combined--
The unnumbered looks and arts that form
The glory of young womankind,
Taken, in their perfection, warm,
Ere time had chilled a single charm,
And stampt with such a seal of Mind,
As gave to beauties that might be
Too sensual else, too unrefined,
The impress of Divinity!

'Twas this--a union, which the hand
Of Nature kept for her alone,
Of every thing most playful, bland,
Voluptuous, spiritual, grand,
In angel-natures and her own--
Oh! this it was that drew me nigh
One, who seemed kin to heaven as I,
A bright twin-sister from on high--
One in whose love, I felt, were given
The mixt delights of either sphere,
All that the spirit seeks in heaven,
And all the senses burn for here.

Had we--but hold!--hear every part
Of our sad tale--spite of the pain
Remembrance gives, when the fixt dart
Is stirred thus in the wound again--
Hear every step, so full of bliss,
And yet so ruinous, that led
Down to the last, dark precipice,
Where perisht both--the fallen, the dead!

From the first hour she caught my sight,
I never left her--day and night
Hovering unseen around her way,
And mid her loneliest musings near,
I soon could track each thought that lay,
Gleaming within her heart, as clear
As pebbles within brooks appear;
And there among the countless things
That keep young hearts for ever glowing--
Vague wishes, fond imaginings,
Love-dreams, as yet no object knowing--
Light, winged hopes that come when bid,
And rainbow joys that end in weeping;
And passions among pure thoughts hid,
Like serpents under flowerets sleeping:--
'Mong all these feelings--felt where'er
Young hearts are beating--I saw there
Proud thoughts, aspirings high--beyond
Whate'er yet dwelt in soul so fond--
Glimpses of glory, far away
Into the bright, vague future given;
And fancies, free and grand, whose play,
Like that of eaglets, is near heaven!
With this, too--what a soul and heart
To fall beneath the tempter's art!--
A zeal for knowledge, such as ne'er
Enshrined itself in form so fair,
Since that first, fatal hour, when Eve,
With every fruit of Eden blest
Save one alone--rather than leave
That _one_ unreached, lost all the rest.

It was in dreams that first I stole
With gentle mastery o'er her mind--
In that rich twilight of the soul,
When reason's beam, half hid behind
The clouds of sleep, obscurely gilds
Each shadowy shape that Fancy builds--
'Twas then by that soft light I brought
Vague, glimmering visions to her view,--
Catches of radiance lost when caught,
Bright labyrinths that led to naught,
And vistas with no pathway thro';--
Dwellings of bliss that opening shone,
Then closed, dissolved, and left no trace--
All that, in short, could tempt Hope on,
But give her wing no resting-place;
Myself the while with brow as yet
Pure as the young moon's coronet,
Thro' every dream _still_ in her sight.
The enchanter of each mocking scene,
Who gave the hope, then brought the blight,
Who said, "Behold yon world of light,"
Then sudden dropt a veil between!

At length when I perceived each thought,
Waking or sleeping, fixt on naught
But these illusive scenes and me--
The phantom who thus came and went,
In half revealments, only meant
To madden curiosity--
When by such various arts I found
Her fancy to its utmost wound.
One night--'twas in a holy spot
Which she for prayer had chosen--a grot
Of purest marble built below
Her garden beds, thro' which a glow
From lamps invisible then stole,
Brightly pervading all the place--
Like that mysterious light the soul,
Itself unseen, sheds thro' the face.
There at her altar while she knelt,
And all that woman ever felt,
When God and man both claimed her sighs--
Every warm thought, that ever dwelt,
Like summer clouds, 'twixt earth and skies,
Too pure to fall, too gross to rise,
Spoke in her gestures, tones, and eyes--
Then, as the mystic light's soft ray
Grew softer still, as tho' its ray
Was breathed from her, I heard her say:--

"O idol of my dreams! whate'er
"Thy nature be--human, divine,
"Or but half heavenly--still too fair,
"Too heavenly to be ever mine!

"Wonderful Spirit who dost make
"Slumber so lovely that it seems
"No longer life to live awake,
"Since heaven itself descends in dreams,

"Why do I ever lose thee? why
"When on thy realms and thee I gaze
"Still drops that veil, which I could die,
"Oh! gladly, but one hour to raise?

"Long ere such miracles as thou
"And thine came o'er my thoughts, a thirst
"For light was in this soul which now
"Thy looks have into passion burst.

"There's nothing bright above, below,
"In sky--earth--ocean, that this breast
"Doth not intensely burn to know,
"And thee, thee, thee, o'er all the rest!

"Then come, oh Spirit, from behind
"The curtains of thy radiant home,
"If thou wouldst be as angel shrined,
"Or loved and claspt as mortal, come!

"Bring all thy dazzling wonders here,
"That I may, waking, know and see;
"Or waft me hence to thy own sphere,
"Thy heaven or--ay, even _that_ with thee!

"Demon or God, who hold'st the book
"Of knowledge spread beneath thine eye,
"Give me, with thee, but one bright look
"Into its leaves and let me die!

"By those ethereal wings whose way
"Lies thro' an element so fraught
"With living Mind that as they play
"Their every movement is a thought!

"By that bright, wreathed hair, between
"Whose sunny clusters the sweet wind
"Of Paradise so late hath been
"And left its fragrant soul behind!

"By those impassioned eyes that melt
"Their light into the inmost heart,
"Like sunset in the waters, felt
"As molten fire thro' every part--

"I do implore thee, oh most bright
"And worshipt Spirit, shine but o'er
"My waking, wondering eyes this night
"This one blest night--I ask no more!"

Exhausted, breathless, as she said
These burning words, her languid head
Upon the altar's steps she cast,
As if that brain-throb were its last---

Till, startled by the breathing, nigh,
Of lips that echoed back her sigh,
Sudden her brow again she raised;
And there, just lighted on the shrine,
Beheld me--not as I had blazed
Around her, full of light divine,
In her late dreams, but softened down
Into more mortal grace;--my crown
Of flowers, too radiant for this world,
Left hanging on yon starry steep;
My wings shut up, like banners furled,
When Peace hath put their pomp to sleep;
Or like autumnal clouds that keep
Their lightnings sheathed rather than mar
The dawning hour of some young star;
And nothing left but what beseemed
The accessible, tho' glorious mate
Of mortal woman--whose eyes beamed
Back upon hers, as passionate;
Whose ready heart brought flame for flame,
Whose sin, whose madness was the same;
And whose soul lost in that one hour
For her and for her love--oh more
Of heaven's light than even the power
Of heaven itself could now restore!
And yet, that hour!--

The Spirit here
Stopt in his utterance as if words
Gave way beneath the wild career
Of his then rushing thoughts--like chords,
Midway in some enthusiast's song,
Breaking beneath a touch too strong;
While the clenched hand upon the brow
Told how remembrance throbbed there now!
But soon 'twas o'er--that casual blaze
From the sunk fire of other days--
That relic of a flame whose burning
Had been too fierce to be relumed,
Soon passt away, and the youth turning
To his bright listeners thus resumed:--

Days, months elapsed, and, tho' what most
On earth I sighed for was mine, all--
Yet--was I happy? God, thou know'st,
Howe'er they smile and feign and boast,
What happiness is theirs, who fall!
'Twas bitterest anguish--made more keen
Even by the love, the bliss, between
Whose throbs it came, like gleams of hell
In agonizing cross-light given
Athwart the glimpses, they who dwell
In purgatory[9] catch of heaven!
The only feeling that to me
Seemed joy--or rather my sole rest
From aching misery--was to see
My young, proud, blooming LILIS blest.
She, the fair fountain of all ill
To my lost soul--whom yet its thirst
Fervidly panted after still,
And found the charm fresh as at first--
To see _her_ happy--to reflect
Whatever beams still round me played
Of former pride, of glory wreckt,
On her, my Moon, whose light I made,
And whose soul worshipt even my shade--
This was, I own, enjoyment--this
My sole, last lingering glimpse of bliss.
And proud she was, fair creature!--proud,
Beyond what even most queenly stirs
In woman's heart, nor would have bowed
That beautiful young brow of hers
To aught beneath the First above,
So high she deemed her Cherub's love!

Then too that passion hourly growing
Stronger and stronger--to which even
Her love at times gave way--of knowing
Everything strange in earth and heaven;
Not only all that, full revealed,
The eternal ALLA loves to show,
But all that He hath wisely sealed
In darkness for man _not_ to know--
Even this desire, alas! ill-starred
And fatal as it was, I sought
To feed each minute, and unbarred
Such realms of wonder on her thought
As ne'er till then had let their light
Escape on any mortal's sight!

In the deep earth--beneath the sea--
Thro' caves of fire--thro' wilds of air--
Wherever sleeping Mystery
Had spread her curtain, we were there--
Love still beside us as we went,
At home in each new element
And sure of worship everywhere!

Then first was Nature taught to lay
The wealth of all her kingdoms down
At woman's worshipt feet and say
"Bright creature, this is all thine own!"
Then first were diamonds from the night,
Of earth's deep centre brought to light
And made to grace the conquering way
Of proud young beauty with their ray.

Then too the pearl from out its shell
Unsightly, in the sunless sea,
(As 'twere a spirit, forced to dwell
In form unlovely) was set free,
And round the neck of woman threw
A light it lent and borrowed too.
For never did this maid--whate'er
The ambition of the hour--forget
Her sex's pride in being fair;
Nor that adornment, tasteful, rare,
Which makes the mighty magnet, set
In Woman's form, more mighty yet.
Nor was there aught within the range
Of my swift wing in sea or air,
Of beautiful or grand or strange,
That, quickly as her wish could change,
I did not seek, with such fond care,
That when I've seen her look above
At some bright star admiringly,
I've said, "Nay, look not there, my love,[10]
"Alas, I _can not_ give it thee!"

But not alone the wonders found
Thro' Nature's realm--the unveiled, material,
Visible glories, that abound
Thro' all her vast, enchanted ground--
But whatsoe'er unseen, ethereal,
Dwells far away from human sense,
Wrapt in its own intelligence--
The mystery of that Fountainhead,
From which all vital spirit runs,
All breath of Life, where'er 'tis spread
Thro' men or angels, flowers or suns--
The workings of the Almighty Mind,
When first o'er Chaos he designed
The outlines of this world, and thro'
That depth of darkness--like the bow,
Called out of rain-clouds hue by hue[11]
Saw the grand, gradual picture grow;--
The covenant with human kind
By ALLA made--the chains of Fate
He round himself and them hath twined,
Till his high task he consummate;--
Till good from evil, love from hate,
Shall be workt out thro' sin and pain,
And Fate shall loose her iron chain
And all be free, be bright again!


Such were the deep-drawn mysteries,
And some, even more obscure, profound,
And wildering to the mind than these,
Which--far as woman's thought could sound,
Or a fallen, outlawed spirit reach--
She dared to learn and I to teach.
Till--filled with such unearthly lore,
And mingling the pure light it brings
With much that fancy had before
Shed in false, tinted glimmerings--
The enthusiast girl spoke out, as one
Inspired, among her own dark race,
Who from their ancient shrines would run,
Leaving their holy rites undone,
To gaze upon her holier face.
And tho' but wild the things she spoke,
Yet mid that play of error's smoke
Into fair shapes by fancy curled,
Some gleams of pure religion broke--
Glimpses that have not yet awoke,
But startled the still dreaming world!
Oh! many a truth, remote, sublime,
Which Heaven would from the minds of men
Have kept concealed till its own time,
Stole out in these revealments then--
Revealments dim that have forerun,
By ages, the great, Sealing One![12]
Like that imperfect dawn or light[13]
Escaping from the Zodiac's signs,
Which makes the doubtful east half bright,
Before the real morning shines!

Thus did some moons of bliss go by--
Of bliss to her who saw but love
And knowledge throughout earth and sky;
To whose enamored soul and eye
I seemed--as is the sun on high--
The light of all below, above,
The spirit of sea and land and air,
Whose influence, felt everywhere,
Spread from its centre, her own heart,
Even to the world's extremest part;
While thro' that world her rainless mind
Had now careered so fast and far,
That earth itself seemed left behind
And her proud fancy unconfined
Already saw Heaven's gates ajar!

Happy enthusiast! still, oh! still
Spite of my own heart's mortal chill,
Spite of that double-fronted sorrow
Which looks at once before and back,
Beholds the yesterday, the morrow,
And sees both comfortless, both black--
Spite of all this, I could have still
In her delight forgot all ill;
Or if pain _would_ not be forgot,
At least have borne and murmured not.
When thoughts of an offended heaven,
Of sinfulness, which I--even I,
While down its steep most headlong driven--
Well knew could never be forgiven,
Came o'er me with an agony
Beyond all reach of mortal woe--
A torture kept for those who know.

Know _every_ thing, and--worst of all--
Know and love Virtue while they fall!
Even then her presence had the power
To soothe, to warm--nay, even to bless--
If ever bliss could graft its flower
On stem so full of bitterness--
Even then her glorious smile to me
Brought warmth and radiance if not balm;
Like moonlight o'er a troubled sea.
Brightening the storm it cannot calm.

Oft too when that disheartening fear,
Which all who love, beneath yon sky,
Feel when they gaze on what is dear--
The dreadful thought that it must die!
That desolating thought which comes
Into men's happiest hours and homes;
Whose melancholy boding flings
Death's shadow o'er the brightest things,
Sicklies the infant's bloom and spreads
The grave beneath young lovers' heads!
This fear, so sad to all--to me
Most full of sadness from the thought
That I most still live on,[14] when she
Would, like the snow that on the sea
Fell yesterday, in vain be sought;
That heaven to me this final seal
Of all earth's sorrow would deny,
And I eternally must feel
The death-pang without power to die!

Even this, her fond endearments--fond
As ever cherisht the sweet bond
'Twixt heart and heart--could charm away;
Before her looks no clouds would stay,
Or if they did their gloom was gone,
Their darkness put a glory on!
But 'tis not, 'tis not for the wrong,
The guilty, to be happy long;
And she too now had sunk within
The shadow of her tempter's sin,
Too deep for even Omnipotence
To snatch the fated victim thence!
Listen and if a tear there be
Left in your hearts weep it for me.

'Twas on the evening of a day,
Which we in love had dreamt away;
In that same garden, where--the pride
Of seraph splendor laid aside,
And those wings furled, whose open light
For mortal gaze were else too bright--
I first had stood before her sight,
And found myself--oh, ecstasy,
Which even in pain I ne'er forget--
Worshipt as only God should be,
And loved as never man was yet!
In that same garden where we now,
Thoughtfully side by side reclining,
Her eyes turned upward and her brow
With its own silent fancies shining.

It was an evening bright and still
As ever blusht on wave or bower,
Smiling from heaven as if naught ill
Could happen in so sweet an hour.
Yet I remember both grew sad
In looking at that light--even she,
Of heart so fresh and brow so glad,
Felt the still hour's solemnity,
And thought she saw in that repose
The death-hour not alone of light,
But of this whole fair world--the close
Of all things beautiful and bright--
The last, grand sunset, in whose ray
Nature herself died calm away!

At length, as tho' some livelier thought
Had suddenly her fancy caught,
She turned upon me her dark eyes,
Dilated into that full shape
They took in joy, reproach, surprise,
As 'twere to let more soul escape,
And, playfully as on my head
Her white hand rested, smiled and said:--

"I had last night a dream of thee,
"Resembling those divine ones, given,
"Like preludes to sweet minstrelsy,
"Before thou camest thyself from heaven.

"The same rich wreath was on thy brow,
"Dazzling as if of starlight made;
"And these wings, lying darkly now,
"Like meteors round thee flasht and played.

"Thou stoodest, all bright, as in those dreams,
"As if just wafted from above,
"Mingling earth's warmth with heaven's beams,
"And creature to adore and love.

"Sudden I felt thee draw me near
"To thy pure heart, where, fondly placed,
"I seemed within the atmosphere
"Of that exhaling light embraced;

"And felt methought the ethereal flame
"Pass from thy purer soul to mine;
"Till--oh, too blissful--I became,
"Like thee, all spirit, all divine!

"Say, why did dream so blest come o'er me,
"If, now I wake, 'tis faded, gone?
"When will my Cherub shine before me
"Thus radiant, as in heaven he shone?

"When shall I, waking, be allowed
"To gaze upon those perfect charms,
"And clasp thee once without a cloud,
"A chill of earth, within these arms?

"Oh what a pride to say, this, this
"Is my own Angel--all divine,
"And pure and dazzling as he is
"And fresh from heaven--he's mine, he's mine!

"Thinkest thou, were LILIS in thy place,
"A creature of yon lofty skies,
"She would have hid one single grace,
"One glory from her lover's eyes?

"No, no--then, if thou lovest like me,
"Shine out, young Spirit in the blaze
"Of thy most proud divinity,
"Nor think thou'lt wound this mortal gaze.

"Too long and oft I've looked upon
"Those ardent eyes, intense even thus--
"Too near the stars themselves have gone,
"To fear aught grand or luminous.

"Then doubt me not--oh! who can say
"But that this dream may yet come true
"And my blest spirit drink thy ray,
"Till it becomes all heavenly too?

"Let me this once but feel the flame
"Of those spread wings, the very pride
"Will change my nature, and this frame
"By the mere touch be deified!"

Thus spoke the maid, as one not used
To be by earth or heaven refused--
As one who knew her influence o'er
All creatures, whatsoe'er they were,
And tho' to heaven she could not soar,
At least would bring down heaven to her.

Little did she, alas! or I--
Even I, whose soul, but halfway yet
Immerged in sin's obscurity
Was as the earth whereon we lie,
O'er half whose disk the sun is set--
Little did we foresee the fate,
The dreadful--how can it be told?
Such pain, such anguish to relate
Is o'er again to feel, behold!
But, charged as 'tis, my heart must speak
Its sorrow out or it will break!
Some dark misgivings _had_, I own,
Past for a moment thro' my breast--
Fears of some danger, vague, unknown,
To one, or both--something unblest
To happen from this proud request.

But soon these boding fancies fled;
Nor saw I aught that could forbid
My full revealment save the dread
Of that first dazzle, when, unhid,
Such light should burst upon a lid
Ne'er tried in heaven;--and even this glare
She might, by love's own nursing care,
Be, like young eagles, taught to bear.
For well I knew, the lustre shed
From cherub wings, when proudliest spread,
Was in its nature lambent, pure,
And innocent as is the light
The glow-worm hangs out to allure
Her mate to her green bower at night.
Oft had I in the mid-air swept
Thro' clouds in which the lightning slept,
As in its lair, ready to spring,
Yet waked it not--tho' from my wing
A thousand sparks fell glittering!
Oft too when round me from above
The feathered snow in all its whiteness,
Fell like the moultings of heaven's Dove,[15]--
So harmless, tho' so full of brightness,
Was my brow's wreath that it would shake
From off its flowers each downy flake
As delicate, unmelted, fair,
And cool as they had lighted there.

Nay even with LILIS--had I not
Around her sleep all radiant beamed,
Hung o'er her slumbers nor forgot
To kiss her eyelids as she dreamed?
And yet at morn from that repose,
Had she not waked, unscathed and bright,
As doth the pure, unconscious rose
Tho' by the fire-fly kist all night?

Thus having--as, alas! deceived
By my sin's blindness, I believed--
No cause for dread and those dark eyes
Now fixt upon me eagerly
As tho' the unlocking of the skies
Then waited but a sign from me--
How could I pause? how even let fall
A word; a whisper that could stir
In her proud heart a doubt that all
I brought from heaven belonged to her?
Slow from her side I rose, while she
Arose too, mutely, tremblingly,
But not with fear--all hope, and pride,
She waited for the awful boon,
Like priestesses at eventide
Watching the rise of the full moon
Whose light, when once its orb hath shone,
'Twill madden them to look upon!

Of all my glories, the bright crown
Which when I last from heaven came down
Was left behind me in yon star
That shines from out those clouds afar--
Where, relic sad, 'tis treasured yet,
The downfallen angel's coronet!--
Of all my glories, this alone
Was wanting:--but the illumined brow,
The sun-bright locks, the eyes that now
Had love's spell added to their own,
And poured a light till then unknown;--
The unfolded wings that in their play
Shed sparkles bright as ALLA'S throne;
All I could bring of heaven's array,
Of that rich panoply of charms
A Cherub moves in, on the day
Of his best pomp, I now put on;
And, proud that in her eyes I shone
Thus glorious, glided to her arms;
Which still (tho', at a sight so splendid,
Her dazzled brow had instantly
Sunk on her breast), were wide extended
To clasp the form she durst not see![16]
Great Heaven! how _could_ thy vengeance light
So bitterly on one so bright?
How could the hand that gave such charms,
Blast them again in love's own arms?
Scarce had I touched her shrinking frame,
When--oh most horrible!--I felt
That every spark of that pure flame--
Pure, while among the stars I dwelt--
Was now by my transgression turned
Into gross, earthly fire, which burned,
Burned all it touched as fast as eye
Could follow the fierce, ravening flashes;
Till there--oh God, I still ask why
Such doom was hers?--I saw her lie
Blackening within my arms to ashes!
That brow, a glory but to see--
Those lips whose touch was what the first
Fresh cup of immortality
Is to a new-made angel's thirst!

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