FOUNTAIN of beauty! on my vision breaking, | |
| How springs my heart thy varied charms to greet, | |
| While thoughts of loveliness within me waking | |
| Fill all my being with their influence sweet. | |
| Gazing on thee, my spirit’s wild commotion | 5 |
| Is hushed beneath some mighty magic spell,— | |
| Till, thrilling with each new and strange emotion, | |
| No feelings but of high and pure devotion | |
| Within me dwell. | |
| |
| Wachulla, beauteous spring! thy crystal waters | 10 |
| Reflect the loveliness of Southern skies; | |
| And oft methinks the dark-haired Indian daughters | |
| Bent o’er thy silver depths with wondering eyes. | |
| From forest glade the swarthy chief emerging, | |
| Delighted, paused thy matchless charms to view; | 15 |
| Then to thy flower-gemmed border slowly verging | |
| I see him o’er thy placid bosom urging | |
| His light canoe! | |
| |
| Break not the spell that wraps this beauteous vision | |
| In the enchantment of some fairy dream; | 20 |
| Methinks I wander in those realms elysian, | |
| Which on poetic fancies sometimes gleam. | |
| Round me the dim-arched forest proudly towers, | |
| Seeming those light and floating clouds to kiss; | |
| Oh, let me linger for a few brief hours | 25 |
| By this enchanted fount,—these wildwood bowers, | |
| To dream of bliss. | |
| |
| With the bright crimson of the maple twining, | |
| The fragrant bay its peerless chaplet weaves; | |
| And where magnolias in their pride are shining, | 30 |
| The broad palmetto spreads its fan-like leaves. | |
| Far down the forest aisles, where sunbeams quiver, | |
| The fairest flowers their rainbow hues combine; | |
| And pendent o’er the swiftly flowing river, | |
| The shadows of the graceful willow shiver | 35 |
| In glad sunshine! | |
| |
| Bright-plumaged birds their gorgeous hues enwreathing, | |
| Their amorous tunes to listening flowers repeat; | |
| Which in reply, their sweetest incense breathing, | |
| Pour on the silent air their perfume sweet: | 40 |
| From tree to tree the golden jasmine creeping, | |
| Hangs its bright bells on every slender spray; | |
| And in each fragrant chalice, slyly peeping, | |
| The humming-bird its odorous store is reaping, | |
| The livelong day. | 45 |
| |
| Nature has here, in wilful mood, unfolded | |
| Her choicest stores, the wilderness to deck;— | |
| And forms of rare and perfect beauty moulded, | |
| Where no rude hand her beauty dares to check. | |
| How could I sit, and watch the waters glancing | 50 |
| In the calm beauty of these cloudless skies; | |
| My vivid fancy every charm enhancing, | |
| And sight and sound my senses all entrancing, | |
| Till daylight dies! | |
| |
| How o’er the misty Past my thoughts would ponder, | 55 |
| When sad and lone beside Wachulla’s spring | |
| The red man, flying from his foes, would wander, | |
| And to the wave his heart-wrung murmurs fling. | |
| Oppression stern his free-born soul enthralling, | |
| He flies for shelter to these wildwood haunts,— | 60 |
| And on the spirits of his loved ones calling, | |
| While murmuring voices on his ear are falling, | |
| This descant chants: | |
| |
| “Great Spirit of our race! hast thou forsaken | |
| Thy favored children in their hour of need? | 65 |
| Their wailing voice Wachulla’s echoes waken,— | |
| Will not the Spirit of their fathers heed? | |
| Sunshine and joy our own loved dells are flushing, | |
| But mid their charms the red man wanders lone; | |
| He hears the free winds through the forest rushing; | 70 |
| He sees Wachulla’s gladsome waters gushing, | |
| Yet hears no tone!” | |
| |
| Alas! sad warrior! by these silver waters | |
| No more shall gather thy ill-fated band; | |
| Thy hunters bold, thy dark-eyed lovely daughters, | 75 |
| Long since have sought their own loved spirit-land. | |
| Yet still methinks I hear their voices sighing, | |
| In the soft breeze that blows from yonder shore; | |
| And wildwood echoes to the stream replying, | |
| Mourn that the voices on the waters dying | 80 |
| Return no more! | |
| |
| But now the soft south-wind all gently wooeth | |
| Our little barque, to leave the flower-gemmed shore; | |
| And the light breeze that perfume round us streweth, | |
| This fairy basin soon will waft us o’er; | 85 |
| Then while soft zephyrs, round us faintly blowing, | |
| Bear wordless voices from the forest deep, | |
| We ’ll listen to the waters’ ceaseless flowing, | |
| And watch the wavelets dancing on,—unknowing | |
| What course they keep. | 90 |
| |
| With rapid oar, the water-lilies parting, | |
| Whose snowy petals form the Naiad’s wreath, | |
| Soon o’er the crystal fountain swiftly darting, | |
| We cast our gaze a hundred feet beneath! | |
| Between two heavens of purest blue suspended, | 95 |
| Above these fairy realms we float at will,— | |
| Where crystal grottos lift their columns splendid, | |
| Formed of rare gems of pearl and emerald, blended | |
| With magic skill. | |
| |
| Now in the west the gold and crimson blending, | 100 |
| Tell that soft twilight falleth o’er the world; | |
| And on the breeze all noiselessly descending, | |
| The dew-drops lie in lily-cups impearled. | |
| All thought is lost in sweet bewildering fancies, | |
| While from the forest dies the light of day; | 105 |
| And witching silence every spell enhances, | |
| As o’er the wave the last glad sunbeam glances, | |
| Then fades away! | |
| |
| Farewell, Wachulla! sadly must I sever | |
| My spirit from thy sweet bewildering spell; | 110 |
| I leave thee, fairy fount, perhaps forever, | |
| And mournfully I bid thee now—farewell! | |
| Yet still thy loveliness my soul o’erpowers, | |
| While dreamy shadows on the forest fall,— | |
| And long shall memories of thy beauteous bowers | 115 |
| Fall on my heart like dew on summer flowers, | |
| Refreshing all! | |
| |
