Saturday and Sunday.
Towards evening got up and came on deck:—tremendous head wind, going off our course; pray Heaven we don't make an impromptu landing on Sable Island! Sat on the ship's side, watching the huge ocean gathering itself up into pitchy mountains, and rolling its vast ridges, one after another, against the good ship, who dipped, and dipped, and dived down into the black chasm, and then sprang up again, and rode over the swelling surges like an empress. The sky was a mass of stormy black, here and there edged with a copper-looking cloud, and breaking in one or two directions into pale silvery strata, that had an unhealthy lightning look: a heavy black squall lay ahead of us, like a dusky curtain, whence we saw the rain, fringe-like, pouring down against the horizon. The wind blew furiously. I got cradled among the ropes, so as not to be pitched off when the ship lurched, and enjoyed it all amazingly. It was sad and solemn, and, but for the excitement of the savage-looking waves, that every now and then lifted their overwhelming sides against us, it would have made me melancholy: but it stirred my spirits to ride over these huge sea-horses, that came bounding and bellowing round us. Remained till I was chilled with the bitter wind, and wet through with spray;—walked up and down the deck for some time—had scarce set foot within the round-house, when a sea took her in midships, and soused the loiterers. Sat up, or rather slept up, till ten o'clock, and then went down to bed. I took up Pelham to-day for a second—'t is amazingly clever, and like the thing it means to be, to boot. Heard something funny that I wish to remember—at a Methodist meeting, the singer who led the Psalm tune, finding that his concluding word, which was Jacob, had not syllables enough to fill up the music adequately, ended thus—Ja-a-a-a—Ja-a-a-a—fol-de-riddle—cob!—
Monday, 26th.
Read Byron's life;—defend me from my friends! Rose tolerably late; after breakfast, took a walk on deck—lay and slept under our sea-tent; read on until lunch-time—dined on deck. After dinner walked about with H—— and the captain; we had seated ourselves on the ship's side, but he being called away, we rushed off to the forecastle to enjoy the starlight by ourselves. We sat for a little time, but were soon found out; Mr. ——and Mr. ——joined us, and we sat till near twelve o'clock, singing and rocking under the stars. Venus—"The star of love, all stars above,"—threw a silver column down the sea, like the younger sister of the moon's reflection. By the by, I saw to-day, and with delight, an American sunset. The glorious god strode down heaven's hill, without a cloud to dim his downward path;—as his golden disk touched the panting sea, I turned my head away, and in less than a minute he had fallen beneath the horizon—leapt down into the warm waves, and left one glow of amber round half the sky; upon whose verge, where the violet curtain of twilight came spreading down to meet its golden fringe,
"The maiden,
With white fire laden,
Whom mortals call the moon,"
stood, with her silver lamp in her hand, and her pale misty robes casting their wan lustre faintly around her. Oh me, how glorious it was! how sad, how very very sad I was!
* * * * *
* * * * *
* * * * *
Dear, yet forbidden thoughts, that from my soul,
While shines the weary sun, with stern control
I drive away; why, when my spirits lie
Shrouded in the cold sleep of misery,
Do ye return, to mock me with false dreaming,
Where love, and all life's happiness is beaming?
Oh visions fair! that one by one have gone
Down, 'neath the dark horizon of my days,
Let not your pale reflection linger on
In the bleak sky, where live no more your rays.
Night! silent nurse, that with thy solemn eyes
Hang'st o'er the rocking cradle of the world,
Oh! be thou darker to my dreaming eyes,
Nor, in my slumbers, be the past unfurl'd.
Haunt me no more with whisperings from the dead.
The dead in heart, the changed, the withered:
Bring me no more sweet blossoms from my spring,
Which round my soul their early fragrance fling,
And, when the morning, with chill icy start,
Wakes me, hang blighted round my aching heart:
Oh night, and slumber, be ye visionless,
Dark as the grave, deep as forgetfulness!
* * * * *
* * * * *
Night, thou shalt nurse me, but be sure, good nurse,
While sitting by my bed, that thou art silent;
I will not let thee sing me to my slumbers
With the sweet lullabies of former times,
Nor tell me tales, as other gossips wont,
Of the strange fairy days, that are all gone.
Wednesday, 28th.
Skipped writing on Tuesday—so much the better—a miserable day spent between heart-ach and side-ach.
* * * * *
Rose late, breakfasted with H——, afterwards went and sat on the forecastle, where I worked the whole morning, woman's work, stitching. It was intensely hot till about two o'clock, when a full east wind came on, which the sailors all blessed, but which shook from its cold wings a heavy, clammy, chilly dew, that presently pierced all our clothes, and lay on the deck like rain. At dinner we were very near having a scene: the Bostonian and the Jacksonite falling out again about the President; and a sharp, quick, snapping conversation, which degenerated into a snarl on one side, and a growl on the other, for a short time rather damped the spirits of the table. Here, at least, General Jackson seems very unpopular, and half the company echoed in earnest what I said in jest to end the dispute, "Oh hang General Jackson!" After dinner, returned to the forecastle with H—— to see the sun set; her brother followed us thither.
* * * * *
Finished my work, and then, tying on sundry veils and handkerchiefs, danced on deck for some time;—I then walked about with——, by the light of the prettiest young moon imaginable.
* * * * *
Afterwards sat working and stifling in the round-house till near ten, and then, being no longer able to endure the heat, came down, undressed, and sat luxuriously on the ground in my dressing-gown drinking lemonade. At twelve went to bed; the men kept up a horrible row on deck half the night; singing, dancing, whooping, and running over our heads.
*