Atlantis, and other poems

Front matter

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Preface

This is my first attempt at writing a book of poems, and I trust that the generous public will consider that fact in rendering a verdict upon it, and be satisfied with it, no matter if it should not be what I have essayed to make it : a repres'entative book from the Southern States. I am a native Mississippian, born at Lexington, Holmes County, on the 2d day of August, 1856, and am consequently only 24 years of age. Trusting, therefore, what defects may be found therein by the polished circles into which it will wend its way, may be attributed to my youth and inexperience, I remain,

Deferentially, yours,

William Walton Hoskins.

29etrication.

TO MY RESPECTED PARENTS,

J. S. AND S. A. HOSKINS,

OF LEXINGTON, MISSISSIPPI,

THIS BOOK IS

DEDICATED, AS A FAINT TOKEN

OF

FILIAL LOVE AND ESTEEM.

Hillside Home, 1880.

ATLANTIS.

Prologue

Come, reader, go with me unto the sea's dark caves, And let us solve the secrets of its hidden graves.

Thence let us lift the solemn pall that shrouds The lifeless forms of its imprisoned crowds.

Whole empires we will raise from out their silent tomb, Where they have lain, long centuries, in gloom.

Rebuild their cities that have crumbled to decay, And people them again as in their olden day.

The same tall trees shall lift their heads again. The same rich fruits shall bloom on hill and plain.

The same bright streams shall irrigate the soil, And the same harvests bless attentive toil.

The same wild birds shall thrill the list'ning air, And the same flowers shed their fragrance there !

The pulseless dead shall wake again to life, And know the old contentment — and the strife !

The man, who, in his golden pride and prime, Seemed lost to earth before the needful time ;

PROLOGUE.

The woman, who, with matron-face, sedate, Bowed her meek head and yielded to her fate ;

The boy, who, in his thoughtless, careless glee, Smiled a sweet smile, and smiling, ceased to be ;

The girl, who, in her radiant summer years, Took flight amid fair Nature's sighs and tears ;

The infant, which, scarce welcomed to the earth. Was nursed by Death the moment of its birth;

The passions, same, shall sway the human breast Love, Envy, Hate, Revenge, and all the rest !

J[UHttli$.

Canto I. The Prophecy

THE morning dawned upon Atlantis Like a crimson-robed Enchantress ! The sun, scarce risen from his bed, Just o'er the billows showed his head ; His rosy rays caressed the sands. And on the waves he placed his hands ; His smiles lit up the ocean-queen, And added lustre to the scene !

Atlantis, like a maiden fair, With azure eyes and auburn hair.

ATLANTIS.

In the strong arms of ocean lay, His mistress for a passing day ! Her tropic lands, with beauties clad, Were such to make her lover glad ; Rejoiced, he worshipped at her feet, And bathed them with his kisses sweet !

Her pretty island-world was still. Except the wild, sweet matin-trill Of early birds, surprised to see The morning dawn so gloriously. The flowers nodded to the sun, In reverence most fitly won ; The trees from out their slumber broke, And, as they felt his beams, awoke. But men, with two exceptions, were Within their dwellings, loath to stir !

These two were walking on the beach. Conversing low, in earnest speech ; One was a man in rich attire. Of giant form and eyes of fire ;

ATLANTIS.

The tallest man in all the isle, Whose lips were never known to smile ; His long, black hair in curls did float About his shoulders and his throat ; His brow was lofty, and his mien The kingliest eyes have ever seen !

The other was an older man, And fashioned on a smaller plan ! His eyes were not so fierce nor fine, But mirrored forth a soul divine ; His hair was changing fast to gray, His form was yielding to decay ; His fingers trembled on his staff. And feeble was his fitful laugh. His dress was meagre, coarse and plain, And met the prouder one's disdain ; Yet, over all, a gift he had That made him great, however clad !

They paused just where the sun's fresh rays Flooded them in a golden haze, 2

And the taller raised his hand on high, Pointing above to the tinted sky.

" See you yon light?" he questioning said,

As he haughtily curved his kingly head,

" In it a symbol I certainly see

Of what my own destiny is to be !

Feeble, at first, yet growing at length.

The whole world soon shall feel its strength !"

Slowly the other gazed over the sea. Responding almost inaudibly : ^'Brother, how often have I tried To curb the dictates of your pride ? Ambition, at best, is a dangerous thing. And failure, disaster most surely will bring !"

'' Failure? the theme of a woman's fears !

It cannot frighten a brave man's years !

Go ! preach to the coward of failure, for I

Will patiently listen to no such cry !

Who says that strong Padriphon pales at the

thought That failure may turn all his efforts to naught ?

I was born to success; and Anthrasia has said A crown of rich jewels shall circle my head ! It shall not be long, ere Kadrempa's proud throne, With all of its glory, I shall christen mine own !" " Vain, Padriphon, vain," thus the other replied, *' Are the delusive fallacies of your pride! I gaze down the Vale of the Future, and see What the Years and the Fates have allotted to

thee!

And I warn you, in time, your ambition to

check, Ere it swallow you up in its pitiless wreck !"

"You gaze down the Vale of the Future, good

Seer?

I pray you inform me what there doth appear?"

The Prophet, for such was the smaller one's

name.

Looked long at his brother with eyes now

aflame ; He held his hand thrice o'er the waves of the

sea.

And behold ! Unexplainable mystery !

On the face of the foam, at the will of the Seer, In letters that sparkled, these words did appear:

'' Aye, Padriphon, aye, the throne shall be thine ! But the moment Kadrempa's bright jewels shall

shine On thy long, raven locks, that moment shall see Thy throne and thy kingdom at once cease to

be!"

"Look, Padriphon, look," cried the Prophet,

" and read What a desolate sequence ambition doth breed ! Success shall be yours, but, in the space of a

breath, Your triumph shall smite your proud form to its

death !

Atlantis, with all its rare beauties, shall be Submerged in the depths of yon passionate sea ! For I remember me well, in the ancient archives There's a legend concerning our former Kings'

lives; This legend declares that the Gods of the Sea Met in solemn conclave and decreed there should

be

Upreared from the depths of old Ocean, a land That should be peopled, and governed by one of

their band.

This land they upreared ; Atlantis they named it, All perfect and fiiir ; its people proclaimed it The Eden of earth ; then the Gods of the Sea Chose one of their number as monarch to be ; The populace, now, are descendants of those Who once, 'neath the waters, lived lives of repose ; And Kadrempa, the King, is descended from

them Upon whose brows first rested the rare diadem Thou art seeking to gain ; and this mystical lore Relates, my dear brother, this fact, furthermore : That the Gods of the Sea, in their wisdom, forbade The crown e'er to pass from the T>ine they had

made ; And that if ever the people should so far forget The allegiance they owed thcni, as to turn traitors and let

A Usurper wear the rich crown they had given, In revenge for the deed, like a flash from the

Heaven, The}- would tear down the base of the Island, and

all Into the maw of the mad Ocean should fall ! Take warning, my brother ; beware how you plan To wager with Fate the weak powers of Man !"

A moment the features of Padriphon paled ! A moment his heart became timid and quailed ! A moment his form quivered slightly with fear, As he gazed on the mystical work of the Seer ! Then he conquered his fright, and remastered his

will, His features and nerves became tranquil and still, And he answered, in tones of defiance and wrath :

" I despise the foul omen your prophecy hath ! I contemn the weak warning your magic hath

wrought.

And esteem all your croaking and prating as

naught ;

Shrewd Padriphon's scheming shall baffle the

wave, And shackle it down with the chain of the slave ! Go ! Cant to your daughter of ills that you see, But cease your endeavors to influence me ! I shall never give over the end I've in view, Let the Sea and the Prophet do all they can do !"

Canto II. Ilpacia And Leonta

THE sun, that on the ocean smiled, Beamed, too, upon the forest wild ; And chased the shadows to their dens, Moss-covered in the lonely glens ; The beasts of prey themselves betook Unto the forest's deepest nook ; The timid deer, with nimble feet. Scampered afar in swift retreat; The zephyrs tuned their harps anew As the luscious morning met their view. The streamlets sang a sweeter song, As they merrily rippled and danced along, The woodland fairies joyously Welcomed the day that was to be ; And Nature herself, a living queen, Paused in mid-air to note the scene.

A lowly cottage, illy-made, Could just be seen within the shade ; And in its door a maiden stood. Most perfect type of womanhood ! Fair was she, as the rose is fair, With tinted cheeks and sunny hair ; Her eyes were blue as the sea is blue. And glistened as the radiant dew ; Her form was matchless in its grace, And mated well her peerless face ; Her dress was of the purest white, And made her seem an angel bright. Thus, thus, she stood, bewitching one, And watched the rising of the sun.

Yet o'er her face a cloud has passed. Like unto that on the bright sky cast Which half obscures, but does not quite Conceal the soft moon's liquid light ; For though the cloud was on her face. And somewhat marred its perfect grace, Her ruby lips, in eager start. Were like two rose-leaves cleft apart ; The cheerful smile that from them broke, A soul of artless nature spoke.

One hand was gently raised above Her eyes, the prison-cells of love ; For passion glowed in every glance, And her warm beauty did enhance ; The other held the clust'ring vine That round the walls and door did twine. Uplifted, in such proper place. They formed a framing for her face.

*'I wonder what keeps father so?" She said, with bated breath and low ; *' 'Tis time he should return to me And silence my anxiety ; Padriphon came for him this morn, Long hours ere the day was born. Some question deep, of him to ask. Which were, indeed, an idle task ; For father thinks my uncle vain. Of plotting soul and grasping brain ; He thinks him cold and ruthless, too. With only selfish aims in view ; And I am sure will never aid In any scheme his pride has made."

No answer came to her soft words, Except the chirping of the birds, And the sad cadence of the breeze, Low whisp'ring to the solemn trees; Awhile she listened for reply, And then, with half regretful sigh, She loosed the vine, which swiftly found Its olden place the door around, And, turning, went within the room, Made dusky by the misty gloom.

A young girl moved across the floor As the Prophet's daughter left the door; She had darker skin and darker hair Than her sweet mistress blooming there ; Her eyes were darker, and her face Less perfect in its rounded grace ; Her form had less of angel mould. And of a ruder nature told.

"Leonta," said the fairer girl, " When saw you last that clumsy churl, Who hath an empty purse and brain, Yclept the witless Hydrophane ?"

Leonta's dark face darker grew,

Her dark eyes flashed with darker hue ;

She made a hasty gesture, and

Burst forth with this unkind demand :

*' And pray, Ilpacia, tell me when You saw the bravest of brave men. Who some day may enhance your joy, Yclept the valiant Elephois?"

Ilpacia' s features flushed at this ; Leonta had not aimed amiss.

" Come, come," she said, '' I did but jest; Yet I will answer your request : I saw the one you mentioned when Last even's moon illumed the glen. Now, when did you, I ask again, Last see the luckless Hydrophane?"

'' I saw him when he last was here To pay his homage to the Seer ! And, mistress mine, one word I'll say- Please pardon my intrusive way ;

He loves you does this Hydrophane ! I see it in his actions plain ; I note it in his ravished eyes, And in his restless, broken sighs j I hear it in his very tone.

Which breathes of love for you alone. Then why, oh, why, disdain his suit, Which promises such royal fruit Of happiness in after-years?"

** Because this man to me appears To be of awkward, uncouth form !"

'* Ah, but his heart is rich and warm ; His nature is as good and kind As any you can ever find ! ' '

*'That may all be," Ilpacia smiled. With the simple candor of a child, " But I have formed a different view Of Hydrophane, my maid, from you. Now, Elephois — I grant that he Is all you paint your choice to be :

Of comely form and manly brow, Methinks I see his image now ; His gentle face a noble heart Exhibits as an open chart ; His brilliant eyes show forth a soul Where only virtues have control ; Leonta, had you plead for him, I would not thus so frozen seem ; For all my being worships low Beneath his altar pure as snow ! ' '

**^Ilpacia," thus Leonta warned, " Do you not see your love is scorned And counted naught by Elephois, Who pleads for passion, to destroy? 'Tis true his form is comely; true His brow is manly-looking, too ; True that his face seems most divine. And true his eyes in brilliance shine ; Yet on that form his Maker's hand Has placed Deception's blackest brand ; And on that brow is written plain, Treachery, Falsehood and Disdain ;

»

And though that face be bright and fair,

The Traitor's mark is chiselled there ;

And though those eyes do gleam and shine,

They bode no good for thee or thine !

Beware, Ilpacia, how you trust

Your future to the faith of lust !"

''Nay," said Ilpacia, smiling still, *' Stain him, Leonta, as you will ; I have his picture in my heart, You cannot soil its smallest part ! And, whilst I'm speaking, let me say What I discovered the other day : I saw Leonta, beside a stream, Indulging in a passing dream ; And while she thus unconsciously Was revelling in reverie.

Her lips were parted, there and then. And murmured softly, ' Hydrophane ! ' So, saucy girl, your secret's known. And I now claim it as mine own ; Come, come, acknowledge and confess The reason of your earnestness !

Acknowledge that, when you essayed To gain my love for him, afraid That I might harbor such a thought, You only, by your pleading, sought To learn if I did wish or not To share with him my future lot."

" Nay, 'twas not so !" Leonta cried, Her tell-tale face in blushes dyed ; But, ere another word she said, Ilpacia shook her queenly head In disbelief; and went once more And stood within the vine-clad door. She scarce had reached her former place, Before a radiance lit her face ; And crying out, with joyous love, ^' My father comes !" Adown the grove She tripped with lightly-falling feet The aged Prophet thus to meet.

Leonta' s features writhed in pain ; She placed one hand upon her brain ; Her heaving bosom rose and fell Like ocean waves in restless swell ;

The other hand she closely pressed Upon her wildly-throbbing breast, And thus she murmured forth in grief, As long-pent anguish found relief;

*' Oh, why does Fate so bitter seem To mock the tenor of my dream ? Why hath Ilpacia everything That happiness and pleasure bring, Whilst I have naught but deepest night Of hopelessness my life to blight ?

'^ She scorns the love of Hydrophane, Which I have struggled for in vain ; She counts his worship but a jest. And by his presence seems oppressed. Whilst I would yield my very life For one sweet hour to be his wife, And know that he loved only me With ardor and fidelity !

^' Yea, I could calmly fall asleep. And, fearless, cross the waters deep That fill the gulf that solemn lies Between the earth and Paradise, 3

If I could, all my sorrows past, Upon his bosom breathe my last !

''Well, well; some day he'll wake and learn How she his reverence doth spurn ; Some day he'll kneel to me and plead For passion from the first decreed ! Till then, my heart, be still and calm And placid as a peaceful psalm ; Cease, cease thy fears, and rest assured Thy crown of recompense secured. Thou shalt not know one care or pain. Caressed and loved by Hydrophane !"

Canto III. Anthrasia, The Sorceress

THE words the Seer that morning spake To Padriphon did impression make ; He tried to scorn them down as vain, Yet scorn was lost in sighs of pain ; An anxious, undefined unrest Rankled within his haughty breast, And slightest incidents combined To conjure evils to his mind ; E'en in the midst of revelry He heard the moaning of the sea, And in the air his frightened eyes Saw dreadful horrors constant rise !

Useless the task to find surcease From mental anguish. Tranquil Peace Forever seemed to have left his heart ! He saw the hours come — depart,

Slow, burdened with their weight of care ; Dull hours, measured by Despair ! • Till, goaded by his poignant fear, That ever loomed up, ghastly, near, He rose and started 'cross the isle, And swiftly strode for mile on mile, As if he sought some hidden spot, Where dread of doom could haunt him not !

At length his weary feet did reach To where a lakelet's waves their beach With liquid lips of sweetness kissed — Moist Cupids at their virgin-tryst. Scarce had he gained the lakelet's shore And watched the scene that oped before His restless gaze, ere a woman's form Rushed past his side in a quick alarm And entered a cave that, yawning, lay Only a few short steps away !

He gave pursuit ; but, at the cave. That, frowning, seemed a gloomy grave, A hissing serpent rose in wrath. Opposing him upon his path !

Enraged, he seized a massive stone, But ere 'twas hurled, a warning tone Came from within :

'' Be still ! Be still !

Serpent, obey Anthrasia's will !" Yet, heedlessly, he aimed the blow ; Resistlessly the rock did go. Cutting the air with whizzing sound. And crushing the serpent to the ground !

Then a haggard, wild, forbidding face Appeared within the open space ; A face so tangled o'er with hair 'Twere hard to trace a feature there Except the eyes, that, angry, shone Upon the hurler of the stone ; A withered, small and crouching form, Bent like a sapling in a storm. Upheld the face so gaunt and grim Padriphon saw confronting him ! Long, bony fingers grasped the weeds That screened the cave where secret deeds

Of mystery and art were done, Known only to this ghostly one !

*' Courageous act !" she, hissing, said, **To creep up thus with noiseless tread And strike my dearest treasure low ! Thou wilt repent it dearly, though ; No man has yet escaped my hate, For, be it early — be it late, Anthrasia's curse is sure to fall On lowly hut and kingly hall !"

Then, speaking, Padriphon drew near Unto the Creature, quaint and queer. Who silent stood — as marble cold : A form repulsive to behold !

" I did not deem the reptile thine. And took its life to ransom mine ; Had I not smitten him, why he Might possibly have poisoned me ; Yet, since I know 'twas dear to you, I truly wish I could undo The fatal, cruel, heartless deed. For which I your, forgiveness plead;

Oh, Sorceress, dismiss your ire, And grant the pardon I desire !"

She scanned him sternly for awhile, And then her frown became a smile; She seemed to weigh his every word, And then her answer, thus deferred. Came forth in slow and measured breath, And muffled as the voice of death :

" Your words are fittingly applied, And yet your action I must chide ; I warned you, but you did not seem My wish as anything to deem ; Had you but paused until I came, I would have magnified your name ; I would have calmed my serpent's wrath, And made him vanish from your path ; You have so rash and reckless been, I should not thus forgive your sin. Yet, your excuse I will accept ! ' '

Thus speaking, from the cave she stept. And raised the reptile from the ground, And like a girdle slowly wound.

So wild and grotesque was her taste, The uncouth thing about her waist. Then, turning to Padriphon, she Inquired of him, imperiously, What motive had impelled him there !

Padriphon told her of his care ; His plans and schemes ; the prophecy Of dreadful ills that were to be ; And, anxious, asked her to explain Whether or no his fears were vain; If Fate for him were not so dread As what the Prophet's warning said ; To tell him how to triumph o'er The difficulties, vast, in store Upon his journey to the crown ; And how to put Kadrempa down.

Anthrasia made him no reply

Except to bid him linger nigh,

Until she should to him return.

And then the answer he should learn ;

Then, with a fierce, malignant glance,

That may have happened just by chance,

Or may have hinted of revenge —

So sharp, so swiftly weird and strange — ■

Upon her visitor, she sped

Adown her cavern, dark and dread !

Padriphon did not note that look. But went within a shaded nook. That, screened above by graceful boughs, Seemed nature's place for love's soft vows, And sinking to the velvet grass, He waited what might come to pass. Ah, well for him, if less engrossed By larger ills that swayed him most. He had but thought to mark the dire And baleful look of smould'ring fire That, like a mountain's curling smoke. The restless volcano bespoke !

Anthrasia soon was met by One Who asked her if the work were done She had just placed within her hands ? Anthrasia answered her demands . By giving her a vial filled With liquid -contents, slow distilled 4

From roots of herbs, and various things Delved out in woodland wanderings.

As this she did, she coldly said :

" To whom you give this you will wed ;

Padriphon you say you love, and yet

His love you strive in vain to get ;

Take this, Valeta ; 'tis a balm

That will your soul's deep anguish calm;

Give unto him a drop or two,

And soon his heart will worship you !"

Valeta ? yes, the self-same m.aid Who sprang from Padriphon, afraid That he might recognize her face ', For she was of the royal race ; And if Padriphon should have known That she had wandered there alone In that wild spot, he might have guessed The thing of which she was in quest. Or, if not that, he might have told The circumstance increased fourfold, And thus have caused the Isle to name Its Princess, with the sneer of shame !

Valeta was Kadrempa's child, Of nature gentle, modest, mild ; A flower growing 'mid tlie weeds Of courtly crimes and evil deeds, Untouched, untainted by their woes : The human Image of the Rose ! So, when she Padriphon saw near, She passed him by in sudden fear ; Fear that compelled her to be brave. And disappeared within the cave !

The Sorceress spake. Valeta sighed. And, the vial taking, thus replied : ^' 'Tis true I've loved Padriphon long. But do not deem such action wrong ; For, though the daughter of the king, I stoop not in my worshipping ; He is of noble birth, and we, If mated, would contented be ; Yet, he is cold and hard of heart. And his affections will not start From the sealed fountain of his breast ; My life seemed barren and unblest

Until I thought to come to yon And test the miracles you do ! This vial I will take with me, And probe its boasted potency ; If it but crown my hope with life, And make me his beloved wife, My thanks will fervent be and deep, And riches I will on you heap !"

She left the cave, and speeding fast. She soon by Padriphon had passed. And, like the clouds do stars at night. The distance screened her form from sight ! Anthrasia's lips in scorn were wreathed : " The most innocent babes that ever

breathed,"

She sneering said, '^ this witless twain ! He seeks my skill for selfish gain ; She, swayed by gentler motives, tries To prison Cupid as he flies ; But both are caught within the net Which for their heedless feet was set ! He did not think it worth his while To shun my frown or court my smile.

But rashly chose the murd'rer's art To wound Anthrasia to the heart i I loved that serpent he has slain, And I will curb his proud disdain ; The vial which the doting girl Obtained to give yon plotting churl, Contains no liquid love 1 She'll find It poison of the subtlest kind ! So ! Let her give it him to drink, And then, oh, then, I surely think Revenge, so cherished and so sweet. Will have been ample and complete •'*

Anon she peered about a shelf.

The contents known but to herself.

And soon another vial drew.

From its recess, to nearer view.

Holding it up within the light,

Lo, it gleamed and glinted bright I

''Aye!" she said, and her voice was low,

''Now I will to the schemer go J"

She soon was by Padriphon's side,

Who quickly sprang to his feet and cried :

"At last returned ! I've waited long ; Are my forebodings right or wrong ?"

*' The Seer was false," Anthrasia said,

" The crown s/ta// rest upon your head !

'Twere folly to presume, I think,

Atlantis under sea will sink !

I see no ills in store for thee.

But only joys that are to be ;

Plan on, dream on, and trust to hope,

And with all intervention cope !

Fate deigns to give the brave success ;

The timid she will never bless !

Here is a vial ; it contains

A poison that will freeze the veins ;

Give to Kadrempa in his wine,

And o'er his corpse your crown will shine !"

He took the vial, to her bowed,

And fervent gratitude avowed,

Then left her standing there alone.

No sooner had he from her gone

Than forth she burst into a laugh :

''Ah, King Kadrempa, you may quaff As much of that as you desire. It hath no poison's fatal fire ;

It is but water, clear and pure, But, Padriphon, your death is sure ! Valeta has the deadliest thing That witchcraft can to surface bring ; And she, poor child, so mad with love, She will its power try to prove. And with her own hands blindly deal A blow that art can never heal !"

Canto IV. Kadrempa's Feast

SHIFT we the scene to kingly halls, Where Grandeur weaveth solemn palls To shadow life's most godly moods, With all the evils that it broods : Pomp, Pride, Parade, and Splendor; Hate; The vast and keen intrigues of State ; Falsehood and Treachery and Lust, And scorn of Faith and Truth and Trust, And all the minor vices which Beset the profligate and rich !

The hour was noon ; the fair day hung — A pillar of light in splendor flung — Pendant across the Gulf of Time Empty and dark in its depths sublime.

Noon was the bridge in its central part, Where mortals aweary and faint of heart Could pause for awhile on th' arduous way Of their upward round on the tour of day, And shelter their forms from the sultry heat 'Neath the cover of trees in a cool retreat ! Or, like to a plain on a mountain's breast, The noontide challenged repose and rest ; For morning was up the mountain's side, And only by labor well applied Could the crest be reached where the level plain Of the drowsy noon wooed slumber's reign; But the easy slope of the evening wound From the mountain's peak to the valley-ground ! There on that plain could travellers stand And gaze through the smiling evening-land. Or stroll to the other side and view The difficulties just passed through ! The path of morning upward lies Unto the mountain's steepest rise ; While that of evening glides below, Whither the mountain shadows throw A gloom o'er all the landscape bright : The dusky mistiness of night !