Poems (Baldwyn)/Marina's Daughter

by Augusta Baldwyn

MARINA'S DAUGHTER.

She dwelt beside a lonely lake;
 Most calm and shaded was the water;
And ever early did she wake,
 Marina's young and blushing daughter.

Why from her couch does she arise
 To see the sun's most early beam?
She has no costly sacrifice
 To offer by her native stream.

What speaks the maiden's youthful voice
 As now she lingers by the water?
Her earnest heart and tongue rejoice:
 Thus speaks Marina's timid daughter:

'The sun that gilds the glowing east
 Is but a visitant awhile;
It stands in heaven as a priest,
 Then hides through night its glorious smile.

'It is but there to show a pow'r
 Far higher than its changeful beam;
It gladdens earth, unfolds the flow'r,
 Then sinks to rest beyond the stream.
Oh! heav'nly sun, beyond thy light
Is there a world unchang'd and bright?'

Th' ascending beams intensely glow,
 And voices call her to her home;
And on her flax must she bestow
 The thoughts that ever far would roam.

But when the moon ascends the skies,
 She seeks once more the mum'ring watery
She sees the stars descend and rise,
 And mournful is Marina's daughter.

'Oh! gentle moon and evening star
 That gild the western sky of even,
Ye speak of some sweet home afar,
 Some joy, some rest, the heart's own heaven.

'And ye soft sounds that on the air
 Bear music to the list'ning heart,
Is there a voice now floating there
 With which mine own may bear a part?

'It comes! it mingles with my soul
 Like notes once heard in some dear home!
Now, may the wild waves roar and roll,
 Marina's daughter here shall roam!
Blow, blow ye winds! the sad one hears
 The voice, the tone, of happier years!

The stormy winds arose and roar'd,
 And lash'd to foam the sleeping water;
But in the storm her spirit soar'd,
 And happy was Marina's daughter.

But hark! that voice of gentlest tone
 Recalls her wand'ring steps from far;
She pauses; she is not alone,—
 An eye beams on her like a star.

'Why dost thou stray amidst the storm,
 And listen to the roaring water?
Is this a scene for thy fair form?
 Come home, come home, Marina's daughter?

'Come to my home, where love will twine
 Unfading wreaths around thy brow;
My voice in song will join with thine,
 Ah, we may sing together now!

The glorious sun, the rising moon,
 Shall witness all our life of love;
They shine upon the flow'rs of June;
 They glorious shine in heav'n above.

And they will beam upon us here,
 And gild life's ever-changeful water;
And holier light awaits us there,
 Where is our home, Marina's daughter!

The voice of love was sweet to hear
 Beside Life's dark and stormy water;
And love and hope beam'd brightly there.
 And bless'd Marina's gentle daughter.

1849.