Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE MADONNA'S ISLE, by GEORGE MURRAY (1830-1910)


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE MADONNA'S ISLE, by                    
First Line: Embosomed on the deep there lay
Last Line: Still kneeling on the shore!
Subject(s): Islands; Jesus Christ; Mary. Mother Of Jesus; Women - Bible; Virgin Mary


Embosomed on the deep there lay
A green Elysian isle,
With curving shore and crystal bay
Whose waters glowed awhile,
Crimson and golden, as the day
Sent down a parting smile.

It seemed to sleep, a holy spot
Amid the sleepless sea,
Where guilt and grief might be forgot,
And man from passion free
Might cease the sole, black, sullying blot
On God's fair earth to be.

There, like some phantom that we meet
In visions of the night,
The tenant of that calm retreat,
Arrayed in stainless white,
Strayed, lost in meditation sweet,
A virgin pure and bright:

Bright as the dreams of childhood's sleep
Which waft the soul to Heaven,
Pure as the tears that angels weep
When man with God hath striven
And sinned dread sins, perchance too deep,
Too dark to be forgiven!

She knelt immaculately fair,
With love-illumined face,
And like some lute the voice of prayer
Breathed spells around the place,
Up floating through the summer air
To reach the throne of grace.

But hark! hoarse shouts her prayer arrest,
Her piteous face is pale!
For lo! to that green Eden-nest
A boat with sun-lit sail
Airily skims o'er ocean's breast,
Like sea-bird in the gale.

Its crew are rovers bold and free,
Men stained with human gore,
And when they marked with savage glee
The Presence on the shore,
They bounded madly o'er the sea
With lengthened sweep of oar.

Rude threats they mutter as they row
Against that Hallowed One;
They scoff and jeer, they do not know
The Mother of God's Son.
Heaven shield their helpless prey, for oh!
Compassion they have none.

With eyes upraised, that maiden mild
In speechless woe implored
Quick succour from a sinless Child,
Her offspring, but her Lord:
It came—and shrieks of terror wild
Burst from the pirate horde!

Fiercely, Euroclydon awoke
And lashed each angry wave,
Far-echoing peals of thunder spoke
In tones that shook the brave,
While shadowy depths asunder broke
In many a yawning grave.

Men struggled with unearthly might
And gasped with gurgling breath,
And when the lightning in its flight
Glared on the wreck beneath,
Just God! it was a ghastly sight
To see their ghastly death!

The gentle moon hath charms to still
The murmurs of the main,
As mothers at their own sweet will
Can soothe an infant's pain;
That night she hushed them not until
That ruthless band was slain:

And when the billows' vengeful might
Had swept those sinners o'er,
Oh! calmly then her cloudless light
The gentle moon did pour
Upon the Virgin clothed in white
Still kneeling on the shore!





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