Louisa Stuart Costello: Verses about Weather

On the Discovery of the Cape of Good Hope,
or Cape of Storms


Where no sound was ever heard
But the ocean's hollow roar,
As it breaks, in foamy mountains,
Along the rugged shore:

Where ev'ry wind of heaven
That has terror on its wings,
Howls to the startled echo
That through each cavern rings:


Upon that world of waters,
Where nought has ever pass'd
But the storm-bird's glittering pinions,
As it whirls amidst the blast—


Where no sail has ever wandered
Beneath that troubled sky,
Frowns the stately Cape of Storms
O'er the drear immensity!


Above whose hoary summit,
Where captive thunders sleep,
Three huge black clouds for ever
Their dreadful station keep.


We have gazed on what no other
Has ever gazed upon—
We have braved the angry spirits,
And our victory is won.


We have conquered all the dangers
Of a yet unfathom'd sea;
And we bring the prize of glory.
Our country, Spain, to thee!

What are the dreams of him who may sleep

Where the solemn voice of the troubled deep

Steals on the wind with a sullen roar,

And the waters foam along the shore?

Who shelter'd lies in some calm retreat,

And hears the music of waves at his feet?


He sees not the sail that passes on

O'er the sunny fields of the sea, alone,

The farthest point that gleams on the sight,

A vanishing speck of glittering light.


He sees not the spray that, spreading wide,

Throws its lines of snow on the dark green tide;

Or the billows rushing with crests of foam

As they strove which first should reach their home—


Their home! What home has the restless main,

Which only arrives to return again,

Like the wand'rer she bears on her stormy breast,

Who seeks in vain for a place of rest.


Lo! His visions bear him along

To rocks that have heard the mermaid's song:

Or, borne on the surface of some dark surge,

Unharm'd he lies, while they onward urge


Their rapid course, and waft him away

To islands half hid 'midst the shadowy spray,

Where trees wave their boughs in the perfum'd gale,

And bid the wave-borne stranger hail;


Where birds are flitting like gems in the sun,

And streams over emerald meadows run,

That whisper in melody as they glide

To the flowers that blush along their side.


Sorrow ne'er came to that blissful shore,

For no mortal has entered that isle before:

There the Halcyon waits on the sparkling strand

Till the bark of her lover the Nautilus land;


She spreads her purple wings to the air,

And she sees his fragile vessel there—

She sees him float on the summer sea,

Where no breath but the sigh of his love may be.


The dreamer leaps towards that smiling shore—

When, lo! the vision is there no more!

Its trees, its flowers, its birds are gone—

A waste of waters is spread alone.


Plunged in the tide, he struggles amain—

High they pour, and he strives in vain:

He sinks—the billows close over his head,

He shrieks—'tis over—the dream is fled;


Secure he lies in his calm retreat,

And the idle waters still rave at his feet.

A Dramatic Sketch


A Forest. Night.


Alone, amidst the interminable forest!—
Where shall I seek for aid! my weary limbs,
Torn by the briars, and wasted with fatigue,
Refuse to bear me further.
Horrid night!
Black, rayless, midnight reigns; and the thick dew
Distils its baleful drops upon my head.


And, hark! the topmost branches of the trees,
With dismal moan, now louder and more near,
Shake in the rushing wind! It comes, it comes!—
The dread tornado!—is there no escape!—
What howl is that, which echoes from afar?
The frightful yell comes nearer——
Mighty Heaven!
No friendly torch, no watchfire near, to keep
The savage foe at bay!—my cries alone,
My frantic cries of agony, have power
To scare the fell hyena from his prey!


The torrent sweeps along—a swelling river
Rolls, dashes at my feet! I dare not climb
Yon palm for safety, lest the huge black ants
Fix on and sting me into madness. Ha!
That crash has fell'd the loftiest of the wood,
The stately cotton-tree, that could withstand
A thousand storms;—whose high, projecting stems,
Twisting in many folds impenetrable,
Twin'd with convoluvi and parasites,
Spread their broad barrier, and forbade approach.
'Tis fallen now—its purple blossoms crush'd—
And that stupendous form, which once could yield
A fainting army shelter, is laid low.


I dare not linger—yet I fear to fly.—
I hear the human-monster's piercing howl,
The fierce Ingrena, sporting with the storm,
Like its presiding demon. He approaches—
And, as he comes, he tears the branches down,
And arms himself for slaughter. I am lost!
His wild eyes see me by the lightning's flash—
One moment, and I perish!—Oh, no! no!
That desp'rate leap has saved me, and the coil
Of the huge Boa holds my shrieking foe!


A thousand deaths surround me—and I yield.—
No more at eve, beneath the ganian's shade,
My brave companions, shall we meet, to tell
Of toils and dangers past: no more recall
The lovely verdure of our native vales,
When, listening to the crown-bird's cheerful note,
So like our own wild wand'ring bird of spring,
That fancy gives us back our homes again.
My lov'd, lost home!—and must I perish here!—
Oh! were I now amidst the burning sands,
So the bright sun once more might shine on me,
Although in all his scorching fierceness, yet
There might be hope I should escape his beams;
Or, were I on the brink of some broad river,
Where the gaunt crocodile pursued my steps,
So I had light to view mine enemy,
There might be some hope: but here no light can come!


The blast
Bears shouts upon its wings—new terrors still
Come thronging to o'erwhelm me! Gracious Heaven!
Those well-known sounds, those voices! and my name
Echoing through all the forest!—I am saved!—
Here, here, my friends! rush onward, ye are come
In time to see me die!