Hemans Miscellaneous Poetry 3/Appearance of the Spirit of Vasco da Gama
APPEARANCE OF THE SPIRIT OF THE CAPE TO VASCO DE GAMA.
(TRANSLATED FROM THE FIFTH BOOK OF THE LUSIAD OF CAMOENS.)
Propitious winds our daring bark impell'd
O'er seas which mortal ne'er till then beheld,
When as one eve, devoid of care, we stood
Watching the prow glide swiftly through the flood,
High o'er our heads arose a cloud so vast,
O'er sea and heaven a fearful shade it cast:
Awful, immense, it came! so thick, so drear,
Its gloomy grandeur chill'd our hearts with fear,
And the dark billow heaved with distant roar.
Hoarse, as if bursting on some rocky shore.
Thrill'd with amaze, I cried, "Supernal Power!
What mean the omens of this threatening hour!
What the dread mystery of this ocean-clime,
So darkly grand, so fearfully sublime?"
Scarce had I spoke, when lo! a mighty form,
Tower'd through the gathering shadows of the storm;
Of rude proportions and gigantic size,
Dark features, rugged beard, and deep-sunk eyes;
Fierce was his gesture, and his tresses flew,
Sable his lips, and earthly pale his hue.
Well may I tell thee that his limbs and height,
In vast dimensions and stupendous might,
Surpass'd that wonder, once the sculptor's boast,
The proud Colossus of the Rhodian coast
Deep was his voice—in hollow tones he spoke,
As if from ocean's inmost caves they broke;
And but that form to view, that voice to hear,
Spread o'er our flesh and hair cold deadly thrills of fear.
"O daring band!" he cried, "far, far more bold
Than all whose deeds recording fame has told;
Adventurous spirits! whom no bounds of fear
Can teach one pause in rapine's fierce career;
Since, bursting thus the barriers of the main,
Ye dare to violate my lonely reign,
Where, till this moment, from the birth of time,
No sail e'er broke the solitude sublime:
Since thus ye pierce the veil by Nature thrown
O'er the dark secrets of the Deep Unknown,
Ne'er yet reveal'd to aught of mortal birth,
Howe'er supreme in power, unmatch'd in worth—
Hear from my lips what chastisements of fate,
Rash, bold intruders! on your course await!
What countless perils, woes of darkest hue,
Haunt the vast main and shores your arms must yet subdue!
"Know that o'er every bark, whose fearless helm
Invades, like yours, this wide mysterious realm,
Unmeasured ills my arm in wrath shall pour,
And guard with storms my own terrific shore!
And on the fleet, which first presumes to brave
The dangers throned on this tempestuous wave,
Shall vengeance burst, ere yet a warning fear,
Have time to prophesy destruction near!
"Yes, desperate band! if right my hopes divine,
Revenge, fierce, full, unequall'd, shall be mine!
Urge your bold prow, pursue your venturous way—
Pain, Havoc, Ruin, wait their destined prey!
And your proud vessels, year by year, shall find
(If no false dreams delude my prescient mind)
My wrath so dread in many a fatal storm,
Death shall be deem'd misfortune's mildest form.
......
"Lo! where my victim comes!—of noble birth,
Of cultured genius, and exalted worth,
With her,1[1] his best beloved, in all her charms,
Pride of his heart, and treasure of his arms!
From foaming waves, from raging winds they fly,
Spared for revenge, reserved for agony!
Oh! dark the fate that calls them from their home,
On this rude shore, my savage reign, to roam,
And sternly saves them from a billowy tomb,
For woes more exquisite, more dreadful doom!
—Yes! he shall see the offspring, loved in vain,
Pierced with keen famine, die in lingering pain;
Shall see fierce Caffres every garment tear,
From her, the soft, the idolised, the fair;
Shall see those limbs, of nature's finest mould,
Bare to the sultry sun, or midnight cold,
And, in long wanderings o'er a desert land,
Those tender feet imprint the scorching sand.
"Yet more, yet deeper woe, shall those behold
Who live through toils unequall'd and untold!
On the wild shore, beneath the burning sky,
The hapless pair, exhausted, sink to die!
Bedew the rock with tears of pain intense,
Of bitterest anguish, thrilling every sense;
Till in one last embrace, with mortal throes,
Their struggling spirits mount from anguish to repose!"
As the dark phantom sternly thus portray'd
Our future ills, in Horror's deepest shade,—
"Who then art thou?" I cried. "Dread being, tell
Each sense thus bending in amazement's spell!"
—With fearful shriek, far echoing o'er the tide,
Writhing his lips and eyes, he thus replied:
"Behold the genius of that secret shore
Where the wind rages and the billows roar—
That stormy Cape, for ages mine alone,
To Pompey, Strabo, Pliny, all unknown!
Far to the southern pole my throne extends,
That hidden rock, which Afric's region ends.
Behold that spirit, whose avenging might,
Whose fiercest wrath your daring deeds excite."
......
Thus having said, with strange, terrific cries,
The giant-spectre vanish'd from our eyes;
In sable clouds dissolved—while far around,
Dark ocean's heaving realms his parting yells resound!
- ↑ 1 Don Emmanuel de Sousa, and his wife, Leonora de Sà.