The Arctic Queen | Page 9

forth
Went to destroy them--I amid the rest,--
But stupor and
a drowsy sweetness came
Over our eyes, and we lay down to sleep--

Waking to hear the mocking laugh of ghouls,
To find us chained,
enslaved,--and, worse than all!
Lost from our corporal
bodies--spirits--dead!
"I, as the leader of the intruding band,
Am doomed to wander on this
mountain side,
A century, before my restless ghost,
Freed from the
thraldom of weird OENE's power,
Regains its natural liberty, and
soars
Into the paradise of happy souls.
This is the punishment those
mortals bear,
Who, venturing into this strange Arctic world,
Are
vanquished by its sovereign. She hath power,
The source of which I
know not, to retain
The souls of mortals for an hundred years,

Demanding service which they needs must pay.
The gloomy caverns
underneath this mount,
And those which in the hearts of icebergs lie,

And many by the sea, are filled with those
Who work their ransom
out with tedious toil.
For me--I am not put to any task--

My
punishment to gaze afar and see
How cruelly all friends from distant
shores,
Who dare attempt my rescue, are restrained.
Alas; the
North-west Passage! When the day
Glinted o'er this pale land, before
my sight
In devious tracery that Passage lay;
Mocking me with its
undeveloped truth,
Wealth unappropriated, glory lost!
Cruel is she

who took from me that substance
With which I might have conquered
an escape,
Leaving me, a forlorn old spirit, sere and grey.
Musing
through barren hours upon the past,
I think with bitterness on those
who once
Were friends and lovers--Queen, companions, Wife!

Forgotten! yes, forgotten by them all!
The luxuries of the
world-taxing city,
The kisses of their children, smiles of men

Renowned of deeds which have not failed, like mine--
This is the
portion of that happier crowd
Who set me on to dangerous enterprise.

But ah! the worst part of it all, is this,--
To be forgotten by my own
best friends--
To be to them as if I ne'er had been!
My wife--my
wife!"--he ended with bowed head.
"Art thou indeed a spirit?" OLIVE asked,
Shrinking a step aside.
Then her kind heart
O'ercome the transient awe, and stealing close,

While smiling on him with sweet, wondering eyes,
Began
again:--"But art thou truly he
Whose name is on the lip of the great
world?--
Of whom the wives and mothers, tearful, speak
When
sound the Northern wind-harps?--whose grand fate,
Hath power to
touch, not only hearts of men,
But draw the golden drops from
weeping purses?
Oh! be content! if Fame and Love content thee.

For thee, the hearts of mariners beat loud--
For thee, ships chase the
pathways of the sea--
By thee the souls of nations, like one chord

Are smote upon, and ring out sympathy;
And men talk on the streets,
and by their hearths,
Of him who led to dismal, distant shores
The
Crusade of the Nineteenth Century.
In that new world, where
generous hearts are found
To flourish on the air of liberty,
A noble
merchant fitted out a ship;
And others joined him in his kindly plan,

So deep the interest taken in thy fate.
And oh, for thee, thou
princely-fortuned man,
A pale face from a northern window looks,

Forever looks, with constancy sublime.
At night, when spectral tints
are in the North--
By day, when winds blow down from that bleak
source--
That face peers from the window anxiously,
As if the
elements might come from thee
Bearing some message to her pining

heart."
As breaks the sunlight from a snow-filled cloud,
Smiles struggled
through the list'ner's wintry looks.
"As land-bird with a green twig in its beak
Is welcome to the
homesick ship which long
Hath tossed in foreign waters, so art thou

Welcome to me, with this consoling tale.
I am content. Weird
OENE, keep me here!
And I will while away a century
In dreaming
of a love which hath not failed;
Now knowing that the first to
welcome me
In Heaven's ineffable bowers, will be my wife."
"Since thou, Sir JOHN, protected me from harm,
What I have said
may be some small return.
I do dislike to leave thee here, so lonely;

But since I for my BERTHO went in search,
Nought stays my
footsteps long. Where'er I go,
Whether I be successful in my search,

Or perish by the way, I trust again
We shall in spirit, if not in body,
meet.
I have seen this witching Pole-Queen; I have passed
This
circling cold and stood in the warm heart
Of her domains--have
pressed her magic isle
With my poor human feet, and with my voice

Have plead the cause of two young, eager souls.
She was not kind,
and yet not very cruel,
She may relent, even of her hate towards thee.

If I again have access to her ear,
I'll not forget to plead thy cause,
dear sir,
As if it were mine own. Farewell!"
"Farewell,
And heaven bless thine innocence, sweet friend."
With parting gesture full of tender grace
And soft regret, she passed
upon her way.
A weary time it grew till on the summit
Of Thug she
stood, gazing bewildered round.
No more she heard her lover's
haunting call;
But she herself cried out with aching voice,
Whose
sweetness dropped with every silver tone
From the full note of hope
to doubt and fear.

Sudden a chill fell on her, and