The Pacific commercial advertiser. [volume] (Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands) 1856-1888, 1874-11-28

wonders Of the deep, and the marveIs and graces
at our right hand and cur left, lead Us upward?
Yes,-and more still,-shall not the pure senti-
ments awakened by q fair unstained image Of that
which was framed as 4 ~helpmeet in Paradise. be 10
weary and be-clouded man his highest influence,
in the hands Of God, for a better life? IL must
be 50 il was 50 with Camoens and il will be -
with all. who believing in q redeemed world viii
feel tina. its guide and rule should be only love.
LOWS TRIALS.
Our poor poet could not approach this lady.
He had 70 stand aloof he who was more worthy
of her affection than any other man IN Portugal
He had to be content 10 gaze at her from affair, not
only because his prospects Of fortune were uncer-
tain.-and because he was Chased a. an adyen-
tuner OF doubtful principles bat chiefly because,
even az an early day. jealousy and envy circulated
evil stories against him, which we know now had
not a particle of real foundation. Bitter narrow
souls hated the grandeur Of his spirit, and gave
him an evil name without being able to point a
finger at n single evil decd of his life. lie whose
only aspirations were for the good of his fellow
men, and the glory of his country, was at times
bafled by the ISLANDERS of his eountrymen- 50
that it is pitiful too pitiiul to follow the story
OF Camoens, and see throughout has career, his
generous and heroic purpose and work continually
dogged by the bitterness Of narrow hearted, UNI
founded hate. And here we must bear in mind
that the heroic age of Portugal is passing away,
and closes we may say with the death Of CamO-
ems, (l3) he bore all c%ontumely with brave dig
nity and never withheld bis hand from doing his
duty, however much derided or misunderstood -
but at times the agony of his spirit overaOwed,
and he could not refrain from giving utterance TO
his feeling of the ingrati:ude of his eountrymen,
in his poem which so nobly glorihes them.
For even those for whom my Tyre l tun'd
The ohahee druggd to nauseate the drausht,
Instead of the repOse for which | sighed
Instead q laureh g adorn my bow
With malice yet unparalleled hey sought
ay sad aud wretehed IOt to aggrayaiebu4
LOVES UTrERANCE.
But this is not the place to dwell on the trials
and sorrows of the life of Camoens. Not all of
his career was worried by the dogs of obloquy.
No, indeed. He had his days of sweetness and
triumph equal to all the hope of a poet. HIS
watch and prayers for his dear saint IN the church
were not all in vain. For n time he could only
find voice for his passion in verse in the secrecy Of
his chamber, which he feared to send to her for
whom it was written. But utterance he must
have,-and of the thoughts of those days of secret
brooding tenderness, we have many sweet frag-
ments and this is something of the expression Of
his sweet dawn of love.
have only seen her from afar;
But near enough to read her face,
And note her dainty forms sweet grace
And worship her as my souls star.
l know not yet her voices tone
/. mingled with a curing strain, Q)
Her moving lips were melody alone.
1 meier have held her hand in mine; - Is
FL her ,a 6 dainty ss,I ap : iGy. play ia OIL
Which no touch could more define.
/ have only seen her thus enshriued
Standing up in a sacred place,
Where ] may worship her sweet face;
And Heaven with her is all cOmbin'd.
And shall my eyes thus lead my soull
In this sweet Visions witchery,
And makes me lose my hearts control.
And afterwards in one of the poets many
sweet sonnets, which only came to light in far
away years, when his own tender heart and the
fond one for which he sang were both cold, he
celebrates in the tendercst verse his first revelation
of love in the Temple of God (l6l:
" Sweetly was heard the anthems choral strain,
And myriads bowed before the sainted shrine,
In solemn reverence to their Sire Divine,
Whs gave in the The m lano of 1G G SdIi's y. @o5inl sn slain
(Ah little weening of his fell design
Love bore the heart which since hath meier been mine)
To one who seemed of Heavens elected train
'Gainst that blind archers soul consuming pow'r,
Which scorns and scars all circumstances above.
oh, Lady! since I've worn thy gentle chain
How of have 1 deplor'd each wasted hour
When l was free, and had not learn'd to love :" az
LOVES SILENCE.
But Camoens did not babble of his love. For
l~oag-long time. what We now gaze upon, and
what touches the hearts Of all tender souls, who
weep DER CamOens and Caterina, was kept q pro-
found secret, even in happy and successful days
of love, from the gossips of Lisbon. He did
publish some sonnets addressed to the mymph
Natercia, in one Of which be says:
Within my bosom's cell 1 bear
1t turks unseen and buried there,
No gazing eyes my secret know"
But no one at that time suspected that this
name Natercia was an anagram for Caterina.
This chaste reticence Of a delicate love is recorded
in very sweet and noble words by the poet, which
are thus happily rendered by Lord StraEgford in
the following.
CANON.
"A minha dor c o nome" &C.