Part 20 (1/2)

To tell thee of the dangers of the sea At length, which human understanding scare, Thunder-storms, sudden, dreadful in degree, Lightnings, which seem to set on fire the air, Dark floods of rain, nights of obscurity, Rollings of thunder which the world would tear, Were not less labour than a great mistake, E'en if I had an iron voice to speak.

He describes the electric fires of St Elmo and the gradual development of the waterspout:

I saw, and clearly saw, the living light Which sailors everywhere as sacred hold In time of storm and crossing winds that fight, Of tempest dark and desperation cold; Nor less it was to all a marvel quite, And matter surely to alarm the bold, To observe the sea-clouds, with a tube immense, Suck water up from Ocean's deep expanse....

A fume or vapour thin and subtle rose, And by the wind begin revolving there; Thence to the topmost clouds a tube it throws, But of a substance so exceeding rare....

But when it was quite gorged it then withdrew The foot that on the sea beneath had grown, And o'er the heavens in fine it raining flew, The jacent waters watering with its own.

The storm at sea reminds us of aeschylus in splendour:

The winds were such, that scarcely could they shew With greater force or greater rage around, Than if it were this purpose then to blow The mighty tower of Babel to the ground....

Now rising to the clouds they seem to go O'er the wild waves of Neptune borne on end; Now to the bowels of the deep below; It seems to all their senses, they descend; Notus and Auster, Boreas, Aquila, The very world's machinery would rend; While flas.h.i.+ngs fire the black and ugly night And shed from pole to pole a dazzling light....

But now the star of love beamed forth its ray, Before the sun, upon the horizon clear, And visited, as messenger of day, The earth and spreading sea, with brow to cheer....

And, as it subsides:

The mountains that we saw at first appeared, In the far view, like clouds and nothing more.

Off the coast of India:

Now o'er the hills broke forth the morning light Where Ganges' stream is murmuring heard to flow, Free from the storm and from the first sea's fight, Vain terror from their hearts is banished now.

His magic island, the Ilha of Venus, could only have been imagined by a poet who had travelled widely. All the delights of the New World are there, with the vegetation of Southern Europe added. It is a poet's triumphant rendering of impressions which the discoverers so often felt their inability to convey:

From far they saw the island fresh and fair, Which Venus o'er the waters guiding drove (E'en as the wind the canvas white doth bear)....

Where the coast forms a bay for resting-place, Curved and all quiet, and whose s.h.i.+ning sand Is painted with red sh.e.l.ls by Venus' hand....

Three beauteous mounts rise n.o.bly to the view, Lifting with graceful pride their sweeling head, O'er which enamelled gra.s.s adorning grew.

In this delightful lovely island glad, Bright limpid streams their rus.h.i.+ng waters threw From heights with rich luxuriant verdure clad, 'Midst the white rocks above, their source derive, The streams sonorous, sweet, and fugitive....

A thousand trees toward heaven their summits raise, With fruits odoriferous and fair; The orange in its produce bright displays The tint that Daphne carried in her hair; The citron on the ground its branches lays, Laden with yellow weights it cannot bear; The beauteous melons, which the whole perfume The virgin bosom in their form a.s.sume.

The forest trees, which on the hills combine To enn.o.ble them with leafy hair o'ergrown, Are poplars of Alcides; laurels s.h.i.+ne, The which the s.h.i.+ning G.o.d loved as his own; Myrtles of Cytherea with the pine Of Cybele, by other love o'erthrown; The spreading cypress tree points out where lies The seat of the ethereal paradise....

Pomegranates rubicund break forth and s.h.i.+ne, A tint whereby thou, ruby, losest sheen.

'Twixt the elm branches hangs the jocund vine, With branches some of red and some of green....

Then the refined and splendid tapestry, Covering the rustic ground beneath the feet, Makes that of Achemeina dull to be, But makes the shady valley far more sweet.

Cephisian flowers with head inclined we see About the calm and lucid lake's retreat....

'Twas difficult to fancy which was true, Seeing on heaven and earth all tints the same, If fair Aurora gave the flowers their time, Or from the lovely flowers to her it came; Flora and Zephyr there in painting drew The violets tinted, as of lovers' flame, The iris, and the rose all fair and fresh E'en as it doth on cheek of maiden blush....

Along the water sings the snow-white swan, While from the branch respondeth Philomel....

Here, in its bill, to the dear nest, with care, The rapid little bird the food doth bear.

Subjective feeling for Nature is better displayed in the lyric than the epic.

The Spaniard, Fray Luis de Leon, was a typical example of a sixteenth-century lyrist; full of mild enthusiasm for Nature, the theosophico-mystical att.i.tude of the Catholic.

A most fervid feeling for Nature from the religious side breathed in St Francis of a.s.sisi--the feeling which inspired his hymn to Brother Sun (_Cantico del Sole_), and led his brother Egidio, intoxicated with love to his Creator, to kiss trees and rocks and weep over them[12]:

Praised by His creatures all, Praised be the Lord my G.o.d By Messer Sun, my brother above all, Who by his rays lights us and lights the day-- Radiant is she, with his great splendour stored, Thy glory, Lord, confessing.