Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Samuel Kettell, ed. Specimens of American Poetry. 1829.

By The Fairy of the Wengern-Alp

George Bancroft (1800–1891)

ON Wenger’s verdant height I stood;

Rapt in delight I gazed around

O’er mountain, glacier, valley, wood,

The “Virgin’s” own enchanted ground.

By Fancy’s strangest phantoms led,

My spirit wander’d far and high;

I long’d on hills of snow to tread,

And o’er the seas of ice to fly.

Hope whisper’d, Nature could unbind

The heavy chains of earth, and give

Wings to the ransom’d soul that pined

With beings of the air to live,

Who rule each mighty element,

(As well is sung by bards of old)

And oft, by mightier spirit sent,

Earth’s mysteries to man unfold.

Or are the days of marvel past?

Does Magic wave no more her wand?

Has wondering Faith retired at last?

And leads no path to fairy land?

But if e’en now as bards believe,

Still roams and rules the fairy race,

Then, Spirits, bid me cease to grieve,

And soar the Genius of the place.

I turned to where the Virgin rose

In still communion with the sky;

Eternity hath heap’d its snows

Round her in unstain’d purity.

O’er her fair features gently hung

The morning’s thin transparent cloud;

While round her breast was rudely flung

The vapors’ denser, darker shroud.

But near the “Silver Peak” was seen

With his fair snow-heaps, like a gay

And gallant page beside a queen,

That frowns in armor’s stern array.

His sides, that like the cygnet’s breast

Were white and crisped, beam’d afar;

The sun but touch’d his topmost crest,

That sparkled like the evening star.

Right glad such beauty to behold,

Plead thou for me, sweet star, I cried;

For ’t is thy light that makes me bold;

Oh loveliest star! be thou my guide.

Then toward the Virgin’s form I knelt;

“O spotless Virgin! hear my prayer;

Command this earthly flesh to melt;

My soul would wander free in air.”

And as I still admiring bow’d,

And hoped a kind reply to hear,

From the deep bosom of the cloud,

A gentle voice fell on my ear.

“Like mountain air would’st thou be free,

Be pure as is the mountain air;

Mortal! from vice and pleasure flee,

And gladly will I grant thy prayer.”

“Then, Virgin, deign my wish to grant;

Though but the meanest of thy train.

This lovely spot I ’d rather haunt,

Than o’er the world beside to reign.

My heart like thine is pure and chaste,

On nature’s bosom oft I ’ve leant,

And oft the morning wind embraced;

But ne’er my neck hath pleasure bent.

To thee a virgin heart would bear

Its earliest fruits. Unveil thy brow;

Thy holy love I long to share,

O! take me to thy bosom now.”

See, the dark clouds asunder roll,

And yon tall form sublimely gleams

In dazzling beauty; on the soul

Burst life and rapture with its beams.

Is it the sun, that gently checks

His fiery steeds o’er Alps’ fair child,

Gilding with glory all her peaks?

No! ’t was the Virgin queen that smiled.

O’er me her hallow’d light she throws;

She blends with majesty divine

Mildness, and whispers from her snows;

“Come thou to me, for thou art mine.”

Farewell, thou lower earth, farewell!

I haste to rush in foaming floods,

Where elves and fairies roam to dwell,

To woo the nymphs of tannen woods,

With Iris watch the waterfall,

And smile and shine in glittering spray,

To heed the Virgin’s beckoning call,

And haste o’er earth her will to obey.

An eagle pass’d; I cried aloud,

Away swift bird, I ’ll soar with thee.

Rushing we pierced the lofty cloud,

Beneath us waved the tannen tree;

Even to the glacier’s tallest height,

We soar’d o’er fields of icy blue;

Long round its gay transparent light,

Pleased with the novel scene, I flew.

“Blue is the light of beauty’s eye;

And blue the waves where swells the sea;

And blue at noon my native sky;

But nought is fair and blue like thee,

Thou lovely pyramid of light!

Thou graceful daughter of the snows

Thy sire the sun is ne’er so bright,

As when his beams on thee repose.”

From rock to rock the ice to dash,

That totter’d on its base, I sprung;

Now tumbling with a fearful crash,

To every peak it lends a tongue;

’T is dash’d to dust; the frozen spray

Sweeps onward o’er the precipice,

Resplendent in the eye of day,

A sparkling cataract of ice.

And where it stood there open’d wide

A chasm of azure, dark and deep;

’T is there the mountain spirits glide,

To where their court the fairies keep.

I did not fear, but ventured too

Along the glittering icy walls,

Full many a fathom downwards flew,

And came to Nature’s inmost halls.

A Paradise of light I found,

Where Nature builds of vilest earth

Her crystal home, and under ground

Brings all that’s beautiful to birth.

And o’er her ever youthful face

Wisdom hath spread a light serene;

While round her throne the fairy race

Are floating in unearthly sheen.

Some hearken’d to their mistress’ call;

Some sported ’mid the heaps of snow;

Some glided with the waterfall;

Some sat above its glittering bow,

Seeming o’er Nature’s works to muse;

And some their little limbs array’d;

These dew-drops for their mirror use;

Of light and air their robes are made.

And others bent with serious look

To prove the new made crystals’ light;

While earth’s dark substance others took,

And changed the mass to diamonds bright.

But as I gain’d the fairy ground,

They ceased awhile from toil and sport,

And the young stranger gathering round,

Cried—“Welcome, youth, to Nature’s court.”

A fairy then with accents bland

Gently, as fairies wont to do,

Came near and said, “This wondrous land

Of airy sprites I ’ll lead thee through.”

Guided by her I dared to gaze

Where Nature’s servants restless toil

The rocks of sand and chalk to raise,

The granite’s tall unyielding pile.

And oft a narrow space they leave,

Where vitriol’s azure drops to pour,

Or thinnest threads of silver weave

In baser metals’ glittering ore.

And when they mingle air and light

With iron black or sluggish lead,

Eye hath not seen so fair a sight,

Such brilliant hues, green, white, and red.

I saw the home of every wind;

And where the ocean’s base is laid;

And where the earthquake sleeps confined,

Till Destiny demands its aid;

And where from magazines of snow

The mighty rivers foaming well;

And more than mortals e’er can know,

And more than fairy’s tongue can tell.

Long did I stand enraptured there,

Nor ceased to gaze in full delight.

Mother of beauty, thou art fair!

O Nature, lovely is thy might.

For ever would I dwell with thee!

For ever to thy train belong.

Then she that led me, smiled to see

My admiration deep and strong,

And thus in kindest mood began;

“O! wouldst thou Nature’s love return,

Remember that thou once wast man,

Young elf; to heal man’s sorrows learn;

Spread calmness round the couch of pain;

Comfort the mourning; soothe disease;

Support the wavering; and sustain

The form that shrinks at winter’s breeze;

A guardian power, o’er virtue bend;

Shed round the young sweet influence;

To the lone wanderer vigor lend;

And anxious watch o’er innocence;

From pleasure’s wiles preserve the fair;

Then shall the Virgin love thee well,

And haply trust to thee the care

Of vales, where peace and virtue dwell.

And now thou ’rt one of us; canst roam

In fire, earth, air, o’er ocean’s wave;

Canst fly to bless thy ancient home,

From age and pain thy parents save;

And rest awhile delighted where

Thy youthful sisters harmless play,

Nor deem their brother hovering near,

To drive each guilty thought away.

For know, we bless the infant’s head;

We guard the fair; the good we shield;

We teach the young, to virtue bred,

Her arms victoriously to wield;

We paint with light the opening flowers;

Of every herb we know the name;

The sea is ours; the earth is ours;

We rule the air; we rule the flame.”

The social fairy ceased to speak.

There ’s many a joy, that mortals know;

But oft when pleasure’s flower they seek,

The leaves conceal the worm of wo;

’T is sweet to watch the kindling eye

Of parents, kin, or friends, or wife;

But sweeter ’t is in air to fly,

And happiest is the fairy’s life.