In every vale fair woodland nymphs are seen In bloom of youth, to mourn some absent love, Who, wandering far on Neptune's rude domain, Heaves the fond sigh at every new remove.
From hill to hill I see Amanda stray, Searching, with anxious view, the encircling main, To espy the sail, so long, so far away, Rise from the waves, and bless her sight again.
Now, on some rock, with loose, dishevelled hair, Near dashing waves, the sorrowing beauty stands, Hoping that each approaching barque may bear Homeward the wandering youth from foreign lands.
Oh! may no gales such faithful loves destroy, No hidden rock to Hymen fatal prove: And thou, fond swain, thy nicest art employ Once more on these sweet isles to meet your love.
When verging to the height of thirty-two, And east or west you guide the dashy prow; Then fear by night the dangers of this shore, Nature's wild garden, placed in sixty-four.[A] Here many a merchant his lost freight bemoans, And many a gallant ship has laid her bones.
[A] Lat. 32 deg. 20 min. N.--Long. 63.40 W.--and about 780 miles East of the coast of South Carolina.--_Freneau's note._
[331] During several weeks in 1778 Freneau resided in Bermuda. While there he seems to have been greatly impressed by an instance of inconstancy. He has in several prose sketches, notably in "Light Summer Reading," 1788, and in the following series of poems, composed at different times, described the incident. There is a tradition that Freneau spent several weeks in the family of the Governor of Bermuda and that it was the daughter of this official who was the unfortunate Amanda. Some traditions have mentioned Freneau himself as the lover. The text is from the edition of 1809.
Lamp of the pilot's hope! the wanderer's dream, Far glimmering o'er the wave, we saw thy beam: Forced from your aid by cold December's gale As near your isle we reefed the wearied sail: From bar to bar, from cape to cape I roam, From you still absent, still too far from home.-- What shall repay me for these nights of pain, And weeks of absence on this restless main, Where every dream recalls that charming shade, Where once, Amanda, once with you I strayed, And fondly talked, and counted every tree, And minutes, ages, when removed from thee. What sad mistake this wandering fancy drew To quit my natives shores, the woods, and You, When safely anchored on that winding stream, Where you were all my care, and all my theme: There, pensive, loitering, still from day to day, The pilot wondered at such strange delay, Musing, beheld the northern winds prevail, Nor once surmised that Love detained the sail. Blest be the man, who, fear beneath him cast, From his firm decks first reared the tapering mast; And catching life and motion from the breeze, Stretched his broad canvas o'er a waste of seas; And taught some swain, whom absence doomed to mourn His distant fair one--taught a quick return: He, homeward borne by favouring gales, might find Remembrance welcome to his anxious mind, And grateful vows, and generous thanks might pay To Him, who filled the sail, and smoothed the way. To me, indeed! the heavens less favouring prove: Each day, returning, finds a new remove-- Sorrowing, I spread the sail, while slowly creeps The weary vessel o'er a length of deeps; Her northern course no favouring breeze befriends, Hail, storm, and lightning, on her path attends: Here, wintry suns their shrouded light restrain, Stars dimly glow, and boding birds complain; Here, boisterous gales the rapid Gulph controul, Tremendous breakers near our Argo roll; Here cloudy, sullen Hatteras, restless, raves Scorns all repose, and swells his weight of waves: Here, drowned so late, sad cause of many a tear, Amyntor floats upon his watery bier; By bursting seas to horrid distance tossed, Thou, Palinurus, in these depths wert lost, When, torn by waves, and conquered by the blast, Art strove in vain, and ruin seized each mast. Now, while the winds their wonted aid deny, For other ports, from day to day, we try Strive, all we can, to gain the unwilling shore, Dream still of you--the faithful chart explore; See other groves, in happier climates placed Untouched their bloom, and not one flower defaced. Did Nature, there, a heaven of pleasure shew, Could they be welcome, if not shared with you?-- Lost are my toils--my longing hopes are vain: Yet, 'midst these ills, permit me to complain, And half regret, that, finding fortune fail, I left your cottage--to direct the sail: Unmoved, amidst this elemental fray, Let me, once more, the muses' art essay, Once more--amidst these scenes of Nature's strife, Catch at her forms and mould them into life; By Fancy's aid, to unseen coasts repair, And fondly dwell on absent beauty there.