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diff --git a/34298-h/34298-h.htm b/34298-h/34298-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..71368ec --- /dev/null +++ b/34298-h/34298-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,29184 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Poetical Works of Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, Bart. M.P. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + margin-top: 1.5em; + margin-bottom: 1.5em; + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + font-variant:normal; + font-weight:normal; + text-decoration: none; + + } /* page numbers */ + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 14%;} /* poetry number */ + .rbrace {position: absolute; top: auto; right: 24%;} /* right brace */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps; font-style: normal;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + .author {text-align: right;} + .rfrnce {text-align: left; margin-left: 40%} + .regards {text-align: right; margin-right: 4em;} + .salute {text-align: left; margin-left: 2em;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + .endnote {margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left; max-width: 40em; width: 30em;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem .cen {text-align: center; width: 20em;} + .poem .r0 {text-align: right; } + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i3 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i5 {display: block; margin-left: 5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 8em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i10 {display: block; margin-left: 10em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i11 {display: block; margin-left: 11em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i12 {display: block; margin-left: 12em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i14 {display: block; margin-left: 14em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i16 {display: block; margin-left: 16em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i22 {display: block; margin-left: 22em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Poetical Works of Sir Edward Bulwer +Lytton, Bart. M.P., by Edward Bulwer Lytton + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Poetical Works of Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, Bart. M.P. + +Author: Edward Bulwer Lytton + +Release Date: November 12, 2010 [EBook #34298] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE POETICAL WORKS OF SIR *** + + + + +Produced by Brian Foley and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 651px;"> +<img src="images/i000a.jpg" width="651" height="1024" alt="Edward Bulwer Lytton" title="Edward Bulwer Lytton" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 594px;"> +<img src="images/i000b.jpg" width="594" height="1024" alt="The Poems" title="The Poems" /> +<span class="caption">THE POEMS OF +SIR EDWARD BULWER LYTTON, BAR<sup>T</sup>.</span> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>The slight plank creaks—high mount the waves and high,<br /> +Hark! with the tempest's shrieks the human cry!<br /> +Upon the bridge but <i>one</i> man now!——</p> +<p class="rfrnce"><i>THE NEW TIMON.</i></p> +</div> + +<h5>LONDON ROUTLEDGE, WARNE AND ROUTLEDGE FARRINGDON STREET.</h5> +</div> +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> + + + +<h2><small>THE</small><br /> +<br /> +<big>POETICAL WORKS</big><br /> +<br /> +<small>OF</small><br /> +<br /> +SIR EDWARD BULWER LYTTON, BART. M.P.</h2> + +<h4>A NEW EDITION</h4> + +<h5>LONDON:<br /> +ROUTLEDGE, WARNE, & ROUTLEDGE,<br /> +FARRINGDON STEEET;<br /> +NEW YORK: 56, WALKER STREET.<br /> +1860.</h5> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2>PREFATORY NOTE.</h2> + + +<p>In this collection of the Author's Poems will be +found some not before printed, and some entirely +re-written from the more imperfect productions of +earlier years. Few, if any, that have previously appeared, +have escaped revision and alteration.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_NEW_TIMON">THE NEW TIMON</a></td><td align='right'><i>Page</i> 1</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CONSTANCE_OR_THE_PORTRAIT">CONSTANCE; OR, THE PORTRAIT</a></td><td align='right'>88</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#MILTON">MILTON</a></td><td align='right'>119</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#EVA">EVA</a></td><td align='right'>140</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_FAIRY_BRIDE">THE FAIRY BRIDE</a></td><td align='right'>149</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_BEACON">THE BEACON</a></td><td align='right'>159</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_LAY_OF_THE_MINSTRELS_HEART">THE LAY OF THE MINSTREL'S HEART</a></td><td align='right'>163</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#NARRATIVE_LYRICS">NARRATIVE LYRICS; OR, THE PARCÆ.</a> IN SIX LEAVES FROM THE SIBYL'S BOOK.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#The_Parcae_Leaf_the_First">I.—NAPOLEON AT ISOLA BELLA</a></td><td align='right'>166</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#The_Parcae_mdashLeaf_the_Second">II.—MAZARIN</a></td><td align='right'>169</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#The_Parcae_Leaf_the_Third">III.—ANDRÉ CHÉNIER</a></td><td align='right'>173</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#The_Parcae_Leaf_the_Fourth">IV.—MARY STUART AND HER MOURNER</a></td><td align='right'>176</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#The_Parcae_Leaf_the_Fifth">V.—THE LAST DAYS OF ELIZABETH</a></td><td align='right'>179</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#The_Parcae_Leaf_the_Sixth">VI.—CROMWELL'S DREAM</a></td><td align='right'>186</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#KING_ARTHUR"><b>KING ARTHUR.</b></a>—BOOKS I. TO XII.</td><td align='right'>193</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CORN-FLOWERS"><b>CORN-FLOWERS.</b>—BOOK I.</a></td><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_FIRST_VIOLETS">THE FIRST VIOLETS</a></td><td align='right'>467</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_IMAGE_ON_THE_TIDE">THE IMAGE ON THE TIDE</a></td><td align='right'>468</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#IS_IT_ALL_VANITY">IS IT ALL VANITY?</a></td><td align='right'>469</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_TRUE_JOY-GIVER">THE TRUE JOY-GIVER</a></td><td align='right'>472</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#BELIEF_THE_UNKNOWN_LANGUAGE">BELIEF; THE UNKNOWN LANGUAGE</a></td><td align='right'>473</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_PILGRIM_OF_THE_DESERT">THE PILGRIM OF THE DESERT</a></td><td align='right'>475</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_KING_AND_THE_WRAITH">THE KING AND THE WRAITH</a></td><td align='right'>477</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#LOVE_AND_DEATH">LOVE AND DEATH</a></td><td align='right'>478</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_POET_TO_THE_DEAD">THE POET TO THE DEAD</a></td><td align='right'>479</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#MIND_AND_SOUL">MIND AND SOUL</a></td><td align='right'>486</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_GUARDIAN_ANGEL">THE GUARDIAN ANGEL</a></td><td align='right'>488</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_LOVE_OF_MATURER_YEARS">THE LOVE OF MATURER YEARS</a></td><td align='right'>489</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_EVERLASTING_GRAVE-DIGGER">THE EVERLASTING GRAVE-DIGGER</a></td><td align='right'>491</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_DISPUTE_OE_THE_POETS">THE DISPUTE OF THE POETS</a></td><td align='right'>492</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#GANYMEDE">GANYMEDE</a></td><td align='right'>500</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#MEMNON">MEMNON</a></td><td align='right'>501</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_ANGEL_AND_THE_CHILD">THE ANGEL AND THE CHILD</a></td><td align='right'>502</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#TO_A_WITHERED_TREE_IN_JUNE">TO A WITHERED TREE IN JUNE</a></td><td align='right'>502</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#ON_THE_REPERUSAL_OF_LETTERS_WRITTEN_IN_YOUTH">ON THE REPERUSAL OF LETTERS WRITTEN IN YOUTH</a></td><td align='right'>504</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_DESIRE_OF_FAME">THE DESIRE OF FAME</a></td><td align='right'>505</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_LOYALTY_OF_LOVE">THE LOYALTY OF LOVE</a></td><td align='right'>507</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#A_LAMENT">A LAMENT</a></td><td align='right'>508</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#LOST_AND_AVENGED">LOST AND AVENGED</a></td><td align='right'>508</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_TREASURES_BY_THE_WAYSIDE">THE TREASURES BY THE WAYSIDE</a></td><td align='right'>510</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#ADDRESS_TO_THE_SOUL_IN_DESPONDENCY">ADDRESS TO THE SOUL IN DESPONDENCY</a></td><td align='right'>512</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CORNFLOWERSII"><b>CORN-FLOWERS.</b>—BOOK. II.</a></td><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_SABBATH">THE SABBATH</a></td><td align='right'>513</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_HOLLOW_OAK">THE HOLLOW OAK</a></td><td align='right'>514</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#LOVE_AND_FAME">LOVE AND FAME</a></td><td align='right'>515</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#LOVE_AT_FIRST_SIGHT">LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT</a></td><td align='right'>516</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#LOVES_SUDDEN_GROWTH">LOVE'S SUDDEN GROWTH</a></td><td align='right'>517</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_LOVE-LETTER">THE LOVE-LETTER</a></td><td align='right'>518</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_LANGUAGE_OF_THE_EYES">THE LANGUAGE OF THE EYES</a></td><td align='right'>518</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#DOUBT">DOUBT</a></td><td align='right'>519</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_ASSURANCE">THE ASSURANCE</a></td><td align='right'>519</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#MEMORIES_THE_FOOD_OF_LOVE">MEMORIES, THE FOOD OF LOVE</a></td><td align='right'>520</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#ABSENT_YET_PRESENT">ABSENT, YET PRESENT</a></td><td align='right'>521</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#LOVERS_QUARRELS">LOVERS' QUARRELS</a></td><td align='right'>522</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_LAST_SEPARATION">THE LAST SEPARATION</a></td><td align='right'>524</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_POPE_AND_THE_BEGGAR">THE POPE AND THE BEGGAR</a></td><td align='right'>525</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_BEAUTIFUL_DESCENDS_NOT">THE BEAUTIFUL DESCENDS NOT</a></td><td align='right'>526</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_LONG_LIFE_AND_THE_FULL_LIFE">THE LONG LIFE AND THE FULL LIFE</a></td><td align='right'>527</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_MIND_AND_THE_HEART">THE MIND AND THE HEART</a></td><td align='right'>528</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_LAST_CRUSADER">THE LAST CRUSADER</a></td><td align='right'>529</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#FOREBODINGS">FOREBODINGS</a></td><td align='right'>531</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#ORAMA_OR_FATE_AND_FREEWILL">ORAMA; OR, FATE AND FREEWILL</a></td><td align='right'>532</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#EARLIER_POEMS"><b>EARLIER POEMS.</b></a></td><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_SOULS_OF_BOOKS">THE SOULS OF BOOKS</a></td><td align='right'>536</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#LA_ROCHEFOUCAULD_AND_CONDORCET">LA ROCHEFOUCAULD AND CONDORCET</a></td><td align='right'>539</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#JEALOUSY_AND_ART">JEALOUSY AND ART</a></td><td align='right'>540</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_MASTER_TO_THE_SCHOLAR">THE MASTER TO THE SCHOLAR</a></td><td align='right'>540</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_TRUE_CRITIC">THE TRUE CRITIC</a></td><td align='right'>541</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#TALENT_AND_GENIUS">TALENT AND GENIUS</a></td><td align='right'>541</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#EURIPIDES">EURIPIDES</a></td><td align='right'>542</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_BONES_OF_RAPHAEL">THE BONES OF RAPHAEL</a></td><td align='right'>543</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_ATHENIAN_AND_THE_SPARTAN">THE ATHENIAN AND THE SPARTAN</a></td><td align='right'>546</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE">THE PHILANTHROPIST AND THE MISANTHROPE</a></td><td align='right'>548</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#THE_IDEAL_WORLD">THE IDEAL WORLD</a></td><td align='right'>551</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <a href="#EPIGRAPH">EPIGRAPH</a></td><td align='right'>561</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 1]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_NEW_TIMON" id="THE_NEW_TIMON"></a>THE NEW TIMON.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>I.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O'er royal London, in luxuriant May,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While lamps yet twinkled, dawning crept the day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Home from the hell the pale-eyed gamester steals;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Home from the ball flash jaded Beauty's wheels;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lean grimalkin, who, since night began,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath hymn'd to love amidst the wrath of man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scared from his raptures by the morning star,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flits finely by, and threads the area bar;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From fields suburban rolls the early cart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As rests the revel, so awakes the mart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Transfusing Mocha from the beans within,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright by the crossing gleams the alchemic tin,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There halts the craftsman; there, with envious sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The houseless vagrant looks, and limps foot-weary by.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Behold that street,—the Omphalos of Town!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the grim palace wears the prison's frown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As mindful still, amidst a gaudier race,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the veil'd Genius of the mournful Place—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of floors no majesty but Griefs had trod,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And weary limbs that only knelt to God.<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">What tales, what morals, of the elder day—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If stones had language—could that street convey!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why yell the human bloodhounds panting there?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To drown the Stuart's last forgiving prayer.<a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a><br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 2]</span><span class="i0">Again the bloodhounds!—whither would they run?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To lick the feet of Stuart's ribald son.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, through the dusk-red towers, amidst his ring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Vans and Mynheers, rode the Dutchman king;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there—did England's Goneril thrill to hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shouts that triumph'd o'er her crownless Lear?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, where the gaslight streams on Crockford's door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bluff Henry chuckled at the jests of More;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, where you gaze upon the last H. B.,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift paused, and mutter'd, "Shall I have that see?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, where yon pile, for party's common weal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knits votes that serve, with hearts abhorring, Peel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blunt Walpole seized, and roughly bought, his man;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, tired of Polly, St. John lounged to Anne.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well, let the world change on,—still must endure<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Earth is Earth, one changeless race—the Poor!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within that street, on yonder threshold stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What sits as stone-like?—Penury, claim thine own!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She sate, the homeless wanderer,—with calm eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Looking through tears, yet lifted to the skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wistful, but patient, sorrowful, but mild,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As asking God when He would claim his child.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A face too youthful for so hush'd a grief;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The worm that gnaw'd the core had spared the leaf;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though worn the cheek, with hunger, or with care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet still the soft fresh childlike bloom was there;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And each might touch you with an equal gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The youth, the care, the hunger, and the bloom;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if, when round the cradle of the child<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With lavish gifts the gentler fairies smiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One vengeful sprite, forgotten as the guest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had breathed a spell to disenchant the rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And prove how slight each favour, else divine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If wroth the Urganda of the Golden Mine!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Now, as the houseless sate, and up the sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dawn to day strengthen'd, pass'd a stranger by:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He saw and halted;—she beheld him not—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All round them slept, and silence wrapt the spot.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To this new-comer Nature had denied<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gifts that graced the outcast crouch'd beside:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With orient suns his cheek was swarth and grim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And low the form, though lightly shaped the limb;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet life glow'd vigorous in that deep-set eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a calm force that dared you to defy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the strong foot was planted on the stone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Firm as a gnome's upon his mountain throne;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 3]</span><span class="i0">Simple his garb, yet what the wealthy wear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And conscious power gave lordship to his air.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Lone in the Babel thus the maid and man;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long he gazed silent, and at last began:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Poor homeless outcast—dost thou see me stand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Close by thy side, yet beg not? Stretch thy hand."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The voice was stern, abrupt, yet full and deep:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The outcast heard, and started as from sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And meekly rose, and stretch'd the hand and sought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To murmur thanks—the murmur fail'd the thought.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He took the slight thin hand within his own:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"This hand hath nought of honest labour known;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet methinks thou'rt honest!—speak, my child."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his face broke to beauty as it smiled.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But her unconscious eyes, cast down the while,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Met not the heart that open'd in the smile:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again the murmur rose, and died in air.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nay, what thy mother and her home, and where?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, with those words, the rigid ice that lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Layer upon layer within, dissolves away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tears come rushing from o'erchargèd eyes:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"There is my mother—there her home—the skies!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, in that burst, what depth of lone distress!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O desolation of the motherless!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet through the anguish how survived the trust,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Home in the skies, though in the grave the dust!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The man was moved, and silence fell again;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upsprung the sun—Light re-assumed the reign;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love ruled on high! Below, the twain that share<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men's builded empires—Mammon and Despair!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At length, with pitying eye and soothing tone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stranger spoke: "Thy bitterer grief mine own;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amidst the million, lonely as thou art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mine the full coffers, but the beggar'd heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet Gold—earth's demon, when unshared, receives<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God's breath, and grows a god, when it relieves.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trust still our common Father, orphan one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And He shall guide thee, if thou trust the son.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, follow, child." And on with passive feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ghost-like she follow'd through the death-like street.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They paused at last a stately pile before;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The drowsy porter oped the noiseless door;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The girl stood wistful still without;—the pause<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The guide divined, and thus rebuked the cause:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Enter, no tempter let thy penury fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have a sister, and her home is here."<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 4]</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>II.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">And who the wanderer that hath shelter won<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath the roof of Fortune's favour'd son?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ill stars predoom'd her, and she stole to birth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fresh from the Heaven,—Law's outcast on the earth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The child of Love betraying and betray'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blossom open'd in the Upas shade;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So ran the rumour; if the rumour lied,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The humble mother wept, but not denied:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ne'er had the infant's slumber known a rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On childhood's native shield—a father's breast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dead or neglectful, 'twas to her the same; <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, oh, how dear!—yea, dearer for the shame, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">All that God hallows in a mother's name! <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, one proud refuge from a world's disdain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here the lost empress half resumes her reign;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here the deep-fallen Eve sees Eden's skies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smile on the desert from the cherub's eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet to each human heart the right to love;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But 'tis the deluge consecrates the dove;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And haply scorn yet more the child endears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cradled in misery, and baptized with tears.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Each then the all on earth unto the other,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sinless infant and the erring mother:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The one soon lost the smile which childhood wears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chill'd by the gloom it marvels at—but shares;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The other, by that purest love made pure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Learn'd to redeem, by labouring to endure;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who can divine what hidden music lies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the frail reed, till winds awake its sighs?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Hard was their life, and lonely was their hearth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, kindness brought no holiday of mirth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No kindred visited, no playmate came;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joy, the proud worldling, shunn'd the child of shame!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet in the lesson which, at stolen whiles,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twixt care and care, the respite-hour beguiles,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mother's mind the polish'd trace betrays <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of early culture and serener days; <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gentle birth still moulds the delicate phrase. <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">By converse, more than books (for books too poor),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Learn'd Lucy more than books themselves insure;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For if, in truth, the mother's heart had err'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pure now the life, and holy was the word:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fallen state no grov'ling change had wrought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meek if the bearing, lofty was the thought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So much of noble in the lore instill'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You felt the soul had ne'er the error will'd;—<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 5]</span><span class="i0">That fraud alone had duped its wings astray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From their true instinct tow'rds empyreal day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus life itself, if sadd'ning, still refined,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And through the heart the culture reach'd the mind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As to the moon the tides attracted move,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So flow'd the intellect beneath the love.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To nurse the sickness, to assuage the care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To charm the sigh into the happier prayer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forestall the unutter'd wish with ready guess;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wise in the exquisite tact of tenderness!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These Lucy's study;—and, in grateful looks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seraphs write lessons more divine than books.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">So dawn'd her youth:—Youth, Nature's holiday!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair time, which dreams so gently steal away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Life—dark volume, with its opening leaf<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Joy,—through fable dupes us into grief—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tells of a golden Arcady;—and then<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Read on,—comes truth;—the Iron world of men!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But from her life thy opening poet page<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was torn!—Its record had no Golden Age.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Behold her by the couch, on bended knees!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There the wan mother—there the last disease!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dread to the poor the least suspense of health,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their hands their friends, their labour all their wealth:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let the wheel rest from toil a single sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the humble clock-work is undone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The custom lost, the drain upon the hoard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The debt that sweeps the fragment from the board,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How mark the hunger round thee, and be brave—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Foresee thy orphan, and not fear the grave?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lower and ever lower in the grade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of penury fell the mother and the maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the grim close; when, as the midnight rain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drove to the pallet through the broken pane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dying murmur'd: "Near,—thy hand,—more near!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am not what scorn deem'd,—yet not severe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The doom which leaves me, in the hour of death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The right to bless thee with my parting breath—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These, worn till now, wear thou, his daughter. Live<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see thy sire, and tell him—I forgive!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cold the child thrills beneath the hands that press<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her bended neck—slow slackens the caress—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loud the roof rattles with the stormy gust;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The grief is silent, and the love is dust;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the spent fuel God's bright spark is flown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there the Motherless, and Death—alone!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 6]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Then fell a happy darkness o'er the mind;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That trance, that pause, the tempest leaves behind:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still, with a timid step, around she crept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sigh'd, "She sleeps!" and smiled. Too well she slept!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dark strangers enter'd in the squalid cell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rude hirelings placed the pauper in the shell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Harsh voices question'd of the name and age;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'n paupers live upon the parish page.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She answers not, or sighs, and smiles, and keeps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The same meek language:—"Hush! my mother sleeps."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They thrust some scanty pence into her palm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And led her forth, scarce marv'ling at her calm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bade her work, not beg—be good, and shun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All bad companions—so their work was done,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the wreck left to drift amidst the roar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the Great Ocean with the rocky shore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">And thou hast found the shelter!—from thine eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Melt the long shadows. Dawn is in the skies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low on the earth, while Night endures,—unguess'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hope folds the wing and slumbers on its nest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let but a sunbeam to the world be given—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hark—it singeth at the gates of Heaven!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>III.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Yet o'er that house there hung a solemn gloom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The step fell timid in each gorgeous room,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vast, sumptuous, dreary as some Eastern pile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where mutes keep watch—a home without a smile;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still as if silence reign'd there, like a law,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And left to pomp no attribute but awe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Save when the swell of sombre festival<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jarr'd into joy the melancholy hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So some chance wind in mournful autumn wrings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Discordant notes, although from music-strings.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wild were the wealthy master's moods and strange,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As one whose humour found its food in change;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now for whole days content apart to dwell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With books and thought—his world the student's cell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now, with guests around the glittering board,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hermit-Timon shone the Athenian lord.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There bloom'd the bright ephemerals of the hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom the fierce ferment forces into flower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gorgeous nurslings of the social life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sprung from our hotbeds—Vanity and Strife!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lords of the senate, wrestlers for the state,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grey-hair'd in youth, exhausted, worn,—and great;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale Book-men,—charming only in their style;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Poets, jaundiced with eternal bile;—<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 7]</span><span class="i0">All the poor Titans our Cocytus claims,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With tortured livers, and immortal names:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such made the guests, Amphitryons well may boast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But still the student travail'd in the host;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These were the living books he loved to read,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keys to his lore, and comments on his creed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From them he rose with more confirm'd disdain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the thorn-chaplet and the gilded chain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft, from such stately revels, to the shed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Hunger couch'd, the same dark impulse led;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Intent, the Babel, Art has built, to trace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here scan the height, and there explore the base;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That structure call'd "The Civilized," as vain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As its old symbol on the Shinar plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Pride collects the bricks and slime, and then<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But builds the city to divide the men;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift comes the antique curse,—smites one from one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rends the great bond, and leaves the pile undone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Man will <i>o'er muse</i>—when musing on mankind:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The vast expanse defeats the searching mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blent in one mass each varying height and hue:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wouldst thou seize Nature, Artist?—bound the view!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But He, in truth, is banish'd from the ties<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That curb the ardent, and content the wise;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the pent heart the bubbling passions sweep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To spread in aimless circles o'er the deep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Still in extremes—in each was still betray'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A soul at discord with the part it play'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A soul in social elements misplaced,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bruised by the grate and yearning for the waste,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wearing custom, as a pard the chain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now with dull torpor, now with fierce disdain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">All who approach'd him by that spell were bound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which nobler natures weave themselves around:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those stars which make their own charm'd atmosphere;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not wholly love, but yet more love than fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A mystic influence, which, we know not why,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Makes some on earth seem portions of our sky.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">In truth, our Morvale (such his name) could boast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those kinglier virtues which subject us most;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ear inclined to every voice of grief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hand that oped spontaneous to relief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heart, whose impulse stay'd not for the mind <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To freeze to doubt what charity enjoin'd, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But sprang to man's warm instinct for mankind; <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 8]</span><span class="i0">Honour, truth's life-sap, with pervading power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nurturing the stem to crown it with the flower;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that true daring not alone to those<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom fault or fate has marshall'd into foes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the rare valour that confronts with scorn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The monster shape, of Vice and Folly born,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which some "the World," and some "Opinion," call,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Own'd by no heart, and yet enslaving all;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bastard charter of the social state,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which crowns the base to ostracise the great;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The eternal quack upon the itinerant stage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This the "good Public," that "the enlighten'd Age,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ready alike to worship and revile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To build the altar, or to light the pile;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now "Down with Stuart and the Reign of Sin,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now "Long live Charles the Second and Nell Gwynne;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now mad for patriots—hot for revolution,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now all for hanging and the Constitution.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Honour to him, who, self-complete, if lone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Carves to the grave one pathway all his own;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, heeding nought that men may think or say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Asks but his soul if doubtful of the way.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IV.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Such was the better nature Morvale show'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now view the contrast which the worse bestow'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Large was his learning, yet so vague and mix'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It guided less the reason than unfix'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dauntless impulse and the kingly will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prompted to good, but leapt the checks to ill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quick in revenge, and passionately proud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His brightest hour still shone forth from a cloud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And none conjecture on the next could form—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So play'd the sunbeam on the verge of storm.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Still young—not youthful—life had pass'd through all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Age sighs, and smiles, and trembles to recall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From childhood fatherless and lone begun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His fiery race, beneath as fierce a sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where all extremes of Love and Horror are,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft Camdeo's lotos bark, grim Moloch's gory car;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where basks the noonday luminously calm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er eldest grot and immemorial palm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the grot, the Goddess of the Dead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the couch'd strangler, list the wanderer's tread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And where the palm leaves stir with breeze-like sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sports the fell serpent with his deathful eye.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 9]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Midst the exuberant life of that fierce zone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Uncurb'd, self-will'd to man had Morvale grown.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His sire (the offspring of an Indian maid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And English chief), whose orient hues betray'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Varna Sankara<a name="FNanchor_C_3" id="FNanchor_C_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_3" class="fnanchor">[C]</a> of the mix'd embrace.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Carved by his sword a charter from disgrace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Assumed the father's name, the Christian's life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his sins cursed him with an English wife:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A haughty dame, whose discontented charms<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That merchant, Hymen, bargain'd to his arms.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In war he fell: his wife—the bondage o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loath'd the dark pledge the abhorrèd nuptials bore—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet young, her face more genial wedlock won,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And one bright daughter made more loath'd the son.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Widow'd anew, for London's native air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And two tall footmen, sigh'd the jointured fair:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wealth hers, why longer from its use exiled?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She fled the land and the abandon'd child;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet oft the first-born, 'midst the swarthier race,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gazed round and miss'd the fair unloving face.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vain the coldness, nay, the hate had been,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hate, by the eyes that love, is rarely seen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Yet more he miss'd the playmate, sister, child,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With looks that ever on his own had smiled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With rosy lips, caressing and caress'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Led by his hand and cradled on his breast:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, as the cloud conceals and breaks in flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gloom of youth the fire of man became.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not his the dreams that studious life allows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Under the shade of melancholy boughs,"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dreams that to lids the Muse anoints belong,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rocking the passions on soft waves of song:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No poet he; adventure, wandering, strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">War and the chase, wrung poetry from life.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">One day a man, who call'd his father "friend,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Told o'er his rupees and perceived his end.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life's business done—a million made—what still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remain'd on earth? Wealth's last caprice—a Will!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The man was childless—but the world was wide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He thought on Morvale, made his will,—and died.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They sought and found the unsuspecting heir<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crouch'd in the shade that near'd the tiger's lair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His gun beside, the jungle round him—wild,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lawless and fierce as Hagar's wandering child:—<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 10]</span><span class="i0">To this fresh nature the sleek life deceased<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Left the bright plunder of the ravaged East.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Much wealth brings want,—that hunger of the heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which comes when Nature man deserts for Art:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His northern blood, his English name, create<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strife in the soul, till then resign'd to fate;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The social world with blander falsehood graced,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smiles on his hopes, and lures him from the waste.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas! the taint that sunburnt brow bespeaks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Divides the Half-Caste from the world he seeks:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In him proud Europe sees the Paria's birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And haughty Juno spurns his barren hearth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half heathen, and half savage,—all estranged<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amidst his kind, the Ishmael roved unchanged.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Small need to track his course from year to year,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till wearied passion paused in its career:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Youth goads us on to action; lore of men<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brings thought—thought books—books quiet; well, and then?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas! we move but in the Hebrews' ring;<a name="FNanchor_D_4" id="FNanchor_D_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_4" class="fnanchor">[D]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our onward steps but back the landmarks bring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until some few at least escape the thrall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And breathe the space beyond the flaming wall:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feel the large freedom which in faith is given,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And poise the wings that shall possess the heaven.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">He sought his mother. She, intent to shun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Closed that last refuge on the homeless son,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till death approach'd, and Conscience, that sad star,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which heralds night, and plays but on the bar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the Eternal Gate,—laid bare the crime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And woke the soul upon the brink of time.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haply if close, too closely, we would read<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That sibyl page, the motive of the deed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remorse for him her life abandon'd, weaves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fear for the dearer one her death bereaves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And penitent lines consign'd, with eager prayer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lorn Calantha to a brother's care.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not till long moons had waned in distant skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er the last mandate wept the Indian's eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the lost sister lived, the flower of yore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bloom'd from the grave,—and earth was sweet once more;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair Florence holds the heart he yearns to meet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift, when heart yearns to heart, how swift the feet!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 11]</span><span class="i0">Well, and those arms have clasp'd a sister now!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy tears have fallen on a sister's brow!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas! a sister's heart thy doom forbade;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy lot as lonely, and thy hearth as sad.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is that pale shade the Peri-child in truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who shone, like Morning, on the hills of Youth?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is that cold voice the same that rang through air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blithe as the bird sings in rebuke of care?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Certes, to those who might more closely mark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That dove brought nought of gladness to his ark;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No loving step, to meet him homeward, flew;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still at his voice her pale cheek paler grew.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The greeting kiss, the tender trustful talk,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arm link'd in arm—the dear familiar walk;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sweet domestic interchange of cares,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Memories and hopes—this union was not theirs.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Partly perchance the jealous laws that guard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Eastern maids, their equal commune barr'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For still, in much the antique creed retain'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its hold, and India in the Alien reign'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That superstitious love which would secure<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What the heart worships, for the world too pure;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wrap with solemn mystery and divine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the crowd's gaze, the idol and the shrine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In him was instinct,—generous if austere;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More priestly reverence, than dishonouring fear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet wherefore shun no less, if this were all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His lonely chamber than his crowded hall?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For days, for weeks, perchance, unseen, aloof<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far as the poles, beneath one common roof,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She drew around her the cold spells, which part<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From forward sympathies the unsocial heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, strange to say, each seem'd to each still dear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And love in her but curb'd by stronger fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And love in him by some mysterious pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That sought the natural tenderness to hide:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did she but name him, you beheld her raise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moist eyes to heaven, as one who inly prays.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">News of her varying health he daily sought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his mood alter'd with the tidings brought:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If worse than wonted, it was sad to view<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That stern man's trembling lip and waning hue,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sad, yet the sadness with an awe was blent,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No words e'er gave the struggling passion vent;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still that passion seem'd not grief alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some curse seem'd labouring in the stifled groan:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some angrier chord the mix'd emotion wrench'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The brow was darken'd, and the hand was clench'd.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 12]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">There was a mystery that defied the guess,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In so much love, and so much tenderness.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What sword, invisible to human eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So sternly sever'd Nature's closest ties:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To leave each yearning unto each—apart—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All ice the commune, and all warmth the heart?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>V.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">But how gain'd she, whom pity strange and rare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gave the night's refuge,—more than refuge there?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At morn the orphan hostess had received<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The orphan outcast,—heard her and believed,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Lucy wept her thanks, and turn'd to part;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the sad tale had touch'd a woman's heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calantha's youth was lone, her nature kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She knew no friend—she sigh'd a friend to find;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That chasten'd speech, the grace so simply worn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bespoke the nurture of the gentle-born;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so she gazed upon the weeping guest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Check'd the intended alms, and murmur'd "Rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For both are orphans,—I should shelter thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, weep no more—thy smile shall comfort me."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Thus Lucy rested—finding day by day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her grateful heart the saving hand repay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calantha loved her as the sad alone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love what consoles them;—in that life her own<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seem'd to revive, and even hope to flower:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, over Sorrow Youth has such sweet power!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The very menials linger'd as they went,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To spy the fairy to their dwelling sent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To list her light step on the stair, or hark<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her song;—yes, <i>now</i> the dove was in the ark!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'n the cold Morvale, spell'd at last, was found<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within the circle drawn his guest around;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Less rare his visits to Calantha grew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And her eye shrunk less coldly from his view<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The presence of the gentle third one brought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Respite to memory, gave fresh play to thought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as some child to strifeful parents sent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laps the long discord in its own content,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This happy creature seem'd to reach that home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To say—"Love enters where the guileless come!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was not mirth, for mirth she was too still;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was not wit, wit leaves the heart more chill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But that continuous sweetness, which with ease<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pleases all round it, from the wish to please,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This was the charm that Lucy's smile bestow'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The waves' fresh ripple from deep fountains flow'd;—<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 13]</span><span class="i0">Below exhaustless gratitude,—above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Woman's meek temper, childhood's ready love.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Yet oft, when night reprieved the tender care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lonely thought stole musing on to prayer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As some fair lake reflects, when day is o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With clearer wave from farther glades the shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, her still heart remember'd sorrows glass'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And o'er its hush lay trembling all the past,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again she sees a mother's gentle face;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again she feels a mother's soft embrace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again a mother's sigh of pain she hears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And starts—till lo, the spell dissolves in tears!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tears that too well the faithful grief reveal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which smiles, by day made duties, would conceal.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VI.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">It was a noon of summer in its glow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all was life, but London's life, below;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As by the open casement half reclined<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calantha's languid form;—a gentle wind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brought to her cheek a bloom unwonted there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stirr'd the light wave of the golden hair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hers was a beauty that made sad the eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lovely in fading, like a twilight sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shape so finely, delicately frail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As form'd for climes unruffled by a gale;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lustrous eye, through which looks forth the soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright and more brightly as it nears the goal;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fever'd counterfeit of healthful bloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rose so living yet so near the tomb;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The veil the Funeral Genius lends his bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, fair as Love, he steals her to his side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leads her on till at the nuptial porch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He murmurs, "Know me now!" and lowers the torch.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What made more sad the outward form's decay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A soul of genius glimmer'd through the clay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft through the languor of disease would break<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That life of light Parnassian dreamers seek;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And music trembled on each aspen leaf<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the boughs drooping o'er the fount of grief.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Genius has so much youth no care can kill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death seems unnatural when it sighs—"Be still."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That wealth, which Nature prodigally gave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall Life but garner for its heir the Grave?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What noble hearts that treasure might have bless'd!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How large the realm that mind should have possess'd!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 14]</span><span class="i0">Love in the wife, and wisdom in the friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And earnest purpose for a generous end,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And glowing sympathy for thoughts of power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And playful fancy for the lighter hour;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All lost, all cavern'd in the sunless gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of some dark memory, beetling o'er the tomb;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like bright-wing'd fairies, whom the hostile gnome<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has spell'd and dungeon'd in his rocky home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wanderer hears the solitary moan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor dreams the fairy in the sullen stone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Contrasting this worn frame and weary breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fresh as a morn of April bloom'd the guest:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">April has tears, and mists the morn array;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mists foretell the sun,—the tears the May.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, as from care to care the soother glides,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How the home brightens where the heart presides!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now hovering, bird-like, o'er the flowers,—at times<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pausing to chant Calantha's favourite rhymes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or smooth the uneasy pillow with light hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or watch the eye, forestalling the demand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Complete in every heavenly art—above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All, save the genius of inventive love.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The window open'd on that breadth of green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To half the pomp of elder days the scene.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gaze to thy left—there the Plantagenet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look'd on the lists for Norman knighthood set;<a name="FNanchor_E_5" id="FNanchor_E_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_5" class="fnanchor">[E]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright issued forth, where yonder archway glooms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Banner and trump, and steed, and waves of plumes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As with light heart rides wanton Anne to brave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tudor's grim love, the purple and the grave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gaze to the right, where now—neat, white, and low,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The modest Palace looks like Brunswick Row;<a name="FNanchor_F_6" id="FNanchor_F_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_F_6" class="fnanchor">[F]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, echoed once the merriest orgies known,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since the frank Norman won grave Harold's throne;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, bloom'd the mulberry groves, beneath whose shade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His easy loves the royal Rowley made;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Villiers flaunted, and where Sedley sung,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wit's loose diamonds dropp'd from Wilmot's tongue!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All at rest now—all dust!—wave flows on wave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the sea dries not!—what to us the grave?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It brings no real homily, we sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pause for awhile and murmur, "All must die!"<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 15]</span><span class="i0">Then rush to pleasure, action, sin once more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swell the loud tide, and fret unto the shore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">And o'er the altered scene Calantha's eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Roves listless—yet Time's Great the passers by!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the road still fleet the men whose names<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Live in the talk the moment's glory claims.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, for the hot Pancratia of Debate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pass the keen wrestlers for that palm,—the State.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, "on his humble but his faithful steed,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir Robert rides—he never rides at speed—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Careful his seat, and circumspect his gaze;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still the cautious trot the cautious mind betrays.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wise is thy heed!—how stout soe'er his back,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy weight has oft proved fatal to thy hack!<a name="FNanchor_G_7" id="FNanchor_G_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_G_7" class="fnanchor">[G]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Next, with loose rein and careless canter view<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our man of men, the Prince of Waterloo;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er the firm brow the hat as firmly press'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The firm shape rigid in the button'd vest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within—the iron which the fire has proved,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the close Sparta of a mind unmoved!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Not his the wealth to some large natures lent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Divinely lavish, even where misspent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That liberal sunshine of exuberant soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thought, sense, affection, warming up the whole;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heat and affluence of a genial power,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rank in the weed as vivid in the flower;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hush'd at command his veriest passions halt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drill'd is each virtue, disciplined each fault;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Warm if his blood—he reasons while he glows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Admits the pleasure—ne'er the folly knows;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If Vulcan for our Mars a snare had set,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had won the Venus, but escaped the net;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His eye ne'er wrong, if circumscribed the sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Widen the prospect and it ne'er is right,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seen through the telescope of habit still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">States seem a camp, and all the world—a drill!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Yet oh, how few his faults, how pure his mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside his fellow-conquerors of mankind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How knightly seems the iron image, shown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Marlborough's tomb, or lost Napoleon's throne!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 16]</span><span class="i0">Cold if his lips, no smile of fraud they wear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stern if his heart, still "Man" is graven there;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No guile—no crime his step to greatness made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No freedom trampled, and no trust betray'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The eternal "I" was not his law—he rose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without one art that honour might oppose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leaves a human, if a hero's, name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To curb ambition while it lights to fame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">But who, scarce less by every gazer eyed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Walks yonder, swinging with a stalwart stride?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With that vast bulk of chest and limb assign'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So oft to men who subjugate their kind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So sturdy Cromwell push'd broad-shoulder'd on;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So burly Luther breasted Babylon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So brawny Cleon bawl'd his Agora down;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And large-limb'd Mahmoud clutch'd a Prophet's crown!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Ay, mark him well! the schemer's subtle eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stage-mime's plastic lip your search defy—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He, like Lysander, never deems it sin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To eke the lion's with the fox's skin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vain every mesh this Proteus to enthrall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He breaks no statute, and he creeps through all;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">First to the mass that valiant truth to tell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Rebellion's art is never to rebel,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Elude all danger but defy all laws,"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He stands himself the Safe Sublime he draws!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In him behold all contrasts which belong<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To minds abased, but passions roused, by wrong;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blood all fervour, and the brain all guile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The patriot's bluntness, and the bondsman's wile.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One after one the lords of time advance,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here Stanley meets,—how Stanley scorns, the glance!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The brilliant chief, irregularly great,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Frank, haughty, rash,—the Rupert of Debate;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor gout, nor toil, his freshness can destroy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Time still leaves all Eton in the boy;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">First in the class, and keenest in the ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He saps like Gladstone, and he fights like Spring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'n at the feast, his pluck pervades the board,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dauntless game-cocks symbolize their lord.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo where atilt at friend—if barr'd from foe—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He scours the ground, and volunteers the blow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, tired with conquest over Dan and Snob,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plants a sly bruiser on the nose of Bob;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Decorous Bob, too friendly to reprove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suggests fresh fighting in the next remove,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 17]</span><span class="i0">And prompts his chum, in hopes the vein to cool,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the prim benches of the Upper School:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Yet who not listens, with delighted smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the pure Saxon of that silver style;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the clear style a heart as clear is seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prompt to the rash—revolting from the mean.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Next cool, and all unconscious of reproach,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comes the calm "Johnny who upset the coach."<a name="FNanchor_H_8" id="FNanchor_H_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_H_8" class="fnanchor">[H]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">How form'd to lead, if not too proud to please,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His fame would fire you, but his manners freeze.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like or dislike, he does not care a jot;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He wants your vote, but your affection not;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet human hearts need sun, as well as oats,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So cold a climate plays the deuce with votes.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And while his doctrines ripen day by day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His frost-nipp'd party pines itself away;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the starved wretch its own loved child we steal—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And "Free Trade" chirrups on the lap of Peel!<a name="FNanchor_I_9" id="FNanchor_I_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_I_9" class="fnanchor">[I]</a>—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But see our statesman when the steam is on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And languid Johnny glows to glorious John!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Hampden's thought, by Falkland's muses dress'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lights the pale cheek, and swells the generous breast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the pent heat expands the quickening soul,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And foremost in the race the wheels of genius roll!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What gives the Past the haunting charms that please<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sage, scholar, bard?—The shades of men like these!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seen in our walks;—with vulgar blame or praise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reviled or worshipp'd as our faction sways:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some centuries hence, and from that praise or blame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As light from vapour, breaks the steady flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the trite Present which, while acted, seems<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time's dullest prose,—fades in the land of dreams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gods spring from dust, and Hero-Worship wakes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of that Past the humble Present makes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet, what matter to ourselves the Great?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What the heart touches—<i>that</i> controls our fate!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the full galaxy we turn to one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dim to all else, but to ourselves the sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still, to each, some poor, obscurest life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breathes all the bliss, or kindles all the strife.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wake up the countless dead!—ask every ghost<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose influence tortured or consoled the most:<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 18]</span><span class="i0">How each pale spectre of the host would turn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the fresh laurel and the glorious urn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To point where rots beneath a nameless stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some heart in which had ebb'd and flow'd its own!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">So one by one, Calantha listlessly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beheld and heeded not the Great pass by.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now, why sudden that electric start?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She stands—the pale lips soundless, yet apart!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She stands, with claspèd hands and strainèd eye—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A moment's silence—one convulsive cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sinking to the earth, a seeming death<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smites into chill suspense the senses and the breath:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quick by the unconscious hostess knelt the guest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bathed the wan brows, and loosed the stifling vest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As loosed the vest,—like one whose sleep of fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is keen with dreams that warn of danger near,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calantha's hand repell'd the friendly care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And faintly clasp'd some token hoarded there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perchance some witness of the untold grief,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some sainted relic of a lost belief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some mournful talisman, whose touch recalls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ghost of time in Memory's desolate halls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, like the vessels that, of old, enshrined<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soil of lands the exile left behind,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Holds all youth rescues from that native shore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of hope and passion, life shall tread no more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Calantha wakes, but not to sense restored,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mind still trembled on the jarring chord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And troubled reason flicker'd in the eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As gleams and wanes a star in some perturbèd sky.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet still, through all the fever of the brain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Terror, more strong, can Frenzy's self restrain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Few are her words, and if at times they seem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To touch the dark truths shadow'd on her dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She starts, with whitening lip—looks round in fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And murmurs, "Nay! my brother did not hear!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then smiles, as if the fear were laid at rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And clasps the token treasured at her breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whispers, "Lucy, guard my sleep;—they say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That sleep is faithless, and that dreams betray!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Yet oft the while—to watch without the door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The brother's step glides noiseless o'er the floor,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There meekly waits, until the welcome ray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Lucy's smile gives comfort to the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till Lucy's whisper murmurs, "Be of cheer,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Pity dupes Affection's willing ear.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 19]</span><span class="i0">Once, and but once, within the room he crept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When all was silent, and they deem'd she slept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not softer to the infant's cradle steals<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mother's step;—she hears not, yet she feels,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As by strange instinct, the approach;—her frame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Convulsed and shuddering as he nearer came;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the wild cry,—the waiving hand convey<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The frantic prayer, so bitter to obey;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with stern brow, belying the wrung heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And voiceless lips compress'd, he turns him to depart.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VIII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Much wondering Lucy mused,—nor yet could find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why one so mournful shrunk from one so kind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Awe that had chill'd the gratitude she felt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Morvale, now in pity learn'd to melt:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This tender patience in a man so stern,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This love untiring—fear the sole return,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This rough exterior, with this gentle breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Awoke a sympathy that would not rest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wistful eye, the changing lip, the tone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose accents droop'd, or gladden'd, from her own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haunted the woman's heart, which ever heaves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its echo back to every sound that grieves.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light as the gossamer its tissue spins<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er freshest dews when summer morn begins,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will Fancy weave its airy web above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dews of Pity, in the dawn of Love.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At length, Calantha's reason wakes;—the strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calms back,—the soul re-settles to the life.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Freed from her post, flies Lucy to rejoice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The anxious heart, so wistful for her voice;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not at his wonted watch the brother found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She seeks his door—no answer to her sound;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She halts in vain, till, eager to begin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The joyous tale, the bright shape glides within.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the first time beheld, she views the lone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gloomy rooms the master calls his own;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not there the luxury elsewhere, which enthralls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With pomp the gazer in the rich man's halls;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strange arms of Eastern warfare, quaintly piled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Betray'd the man's fierce memory of the child,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And litter'd books, in mystic scrolls enshrined<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The solemn Sibyl of the elder Ind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The girl treads fearful on the dismal floors,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with amazèd eye the gloomy lair explores;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus, as some Peri strays where, couch'd in cells<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With gods dethroned, the brooding Afrite dwells,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 20]</span><span class="i0">From room to room her fairy footsteps glide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till, lo! she starts to see him by her side.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With crimson cheek, and downcast eyes, that quail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath his own, she hurries the glad tale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then turns to part—but as she turns, still round<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She looks,—and lingers on the magic ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And eyes each antique relic with the wild<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half-pleased, half-timorous, wonder of a child;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as a child's the lonely inmate saw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And smiled to see the pleasure and the awe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And soften'd into kindness his deep tone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And drew her hand, half-shrinking, in his own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And said, "Nay, pause and task the showman's skill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What moves thee most?—come, question me at will."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Listening she linger'd, and she knew not why<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time's wing so swiftly never seem'd to fly;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never before unto her gaze reveal'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Eastern fire, the Eastern calm conceal'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Child of the sun, and native of the waste,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cramp'd in the formal chains it had embraced,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His heart leapt back to its old haunts afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As leaps the lion from the captive bar;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, as each token flash'd upon the mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back the bold deeds that life had left behind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dark eye blazed, the rich words roll'd along,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vivid as light, and eloquent as song;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At length, with sudden pause, he check'd the stream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his soul darken'd from the gorgeous dream.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"So," with sad voice he said, "my youth went by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fresh was the wave, if fitful was the sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What is my manhood?—curl'd and congeal'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A stagnant water in a barren field:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gall'd with strange customs,—in the crowd alone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And courting bloodless hearts that freeze my own.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the far lands, where first I breathed the air,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smile if thou wilt,—this rugged form was fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the swift foot, strong arm, bold heart give grace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To man, when danger girds man's dwelling-place,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou seest the daughter of my mother, now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrinks from the outcast branded on my brow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My boyhood tamed the panther in his den,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wild beast feels man's kindness more than men.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like with its like, they say, will intertwine,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have not tamed one human heart to mine!"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He paused abruptly. Thrice his listener sought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To shape consoling speech from soothing thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But thrice she fail'd, and thrice the colour came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And went, as tenderness was check'd by shame!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 21]</span><span class="i0">At length her dove-like eyes to his she raised,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the comfort words forbade, she gazed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moved by her childlike pity, but too dark<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In hopeless thought than pity more to mark;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Infant," he murmur'd, "not for others flow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tears the wise, how hard soe'er, must know;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As yet, the Eden of a guileless breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Opes a frank home to every angel guest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft Eve, look round!—The world in which thou art<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Distrusts the angel, nor unlocks the heart—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy time will come!"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">He spoke, and from her side<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was gone,—the heart his wisdom wrong'd replied!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<h3>PART THE SECOND.</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>I.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">London, I take thee to a Poet's heart!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For those who seek, a Helicon thou art.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let schoolboy Strephons bleat of flocks and fields,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each street of thine a loftier Idyl yields;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fed by all life, and fann'd by every wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There burns the quenchless Poetry—<i>Mankind!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet not for me the Olympiad of the gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The reeking <span class="smcap">Season's</span> dusty holiday:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon as its summer pomp the mead assumes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Flora wanders through her world of blooms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vain the hot field-days of the vex'd debate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Sirius reigns,—let Tapeworm rule the state!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vain Devon's cards, and Lansdowne's social feast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wit but fatigues, and Beauty's reign hath ceased.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His mission done, the monk regains his cell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor even Douro's matchless face can spell.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far from Man's works, escaped to God's, I fly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And breathe the luxury of a smokeless sky.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Me, the still "<span class="smcap">London</span>," not the restless "<span class="smcap">Town</span>"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(The light plume fluttering o'er the helmèd crown),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Delights;—for there the grave Romance hath shed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its hues; and air grows solemn with the Dead.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If, where the Lord of Rivers parts the throng,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And eastward glides by buried halls along,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My steps are led, I linger, and restore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the changed wave the poet-shapes of yore;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 22]</span><span class="i0">See the gilt barge, and hear the fated king<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prompt the first mavis of our Minstrel spring;<a name="FNanchor_A_10" id="FNanchor_A_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_10" class="fnanchor">[J]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or mark, with mitred Nevile,<a name="FNanchor_B_11" id="FNanchor_B_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_11" class="fnanchor">[K]</a> the array <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of arms and craft alarm "the Silent way," <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Boar of Gloucester, hungering, scents his prey! <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, landward, trace where thieves their festive hall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hold by the dens of Law,<a name="FNanchor_C_12" id="FNanchor_C_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_12" class="fnanchor">[L]</a> (worst thief of all!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The antique Temple of the armèd Zeal<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That wore the cross a mantle to the steel;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time's dreary void the kindling dream supplies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The walls expand, the shadowy towers arise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And forth, as when by Richard's lion side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Christ and Fame, the Warrior-Phantoms ride!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or if, less grave with thought, less rich with lore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The later scenes, the lighter steps explore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If through the haunts of living splendour led—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has the quick Muse no empire but the Dead?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In each keen face, by Care or Pleasure worn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grief claims her sigh, or Vice invites her scorn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And every human brow that veils a thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Conceals the Castaly which Shakespeare sought.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>II.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Amidst the crowd (what time the glowing Hours<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strew, as they glide, the summer world with flowers),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who fly the solitude of sweets to drown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nature's still whisper in the roar of Town;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who tread with jaded step the weary mill—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grind at the wheel, and call it "Pleasure" still;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gay without mirth, fatigued without employ,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slaves to the joyless phantom of a joy;—<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 23]</span><span class="i0">Amidst this crowd was one who, absent long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And late return'd, outshone the meaner throng;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, truth to speak, in him were blent the rays<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which form a halo in the vulgar gaze;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Howden's fair beauty, Beaufort's princely grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hertford's broad lands, and Courtney's vaunted race;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Pembroke's learning in that polish'd page,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Writ by the Grace, 'the Manners and the Age!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still with sufficient youth to please the heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But old enough for mastery in the art;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Renown'd for conquests in those isles which lie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In rosy seas beneath a Cnidian sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the soft Goddess yokes her willing doves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And meets invasion with a host of Loves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet not unlaurell'd in the war of wile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which won Ulysses grave Minerva's smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For those deep arts the diplomat was known<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which mould the lips that whisper round a throne.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Long in the numbing hands of Law had lain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arden's proud earldom, Arden's wide domain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kinsman with kinsman, race with race had vied<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To snatch the prize, and in the struggle died;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till all the rights the crowd of heirs made dim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death clear'd—and solved the tangled skein in him.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was but <small>ONE</small> who in the bastard fame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wealth gives its darlings, rivall'd Arden's name:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A rival rarely seen—felt everywhere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With soul that circled bounty like the air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Simple himself, but regal in his train,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lavish of stores he seem'd but to disdain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To art a Medici—to want a god,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life's rougher paths grew level where he trod.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Much Arden (Arden had a subtle mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which sought in all philosophy to find)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loved to compare the different means by which<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enjoyment yields a harvest to the rich—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Himself already marvell'd to behold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How soon trite custom wears the gleam from gold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well, was his rival happier from its use<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than he (his candour whisper'd) from abuse?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He long'd to know this Morvale, and to learn:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They met—grew friends—the Sybarite and the stern.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each had some fields in common: mostly those<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From which the plant of human friendship grows.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each had known strong vicissitudes in life;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The present ease, and the remember'd strife.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each, though from differing causes, nursed a mind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At war with Fate, and chafed against his kind.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 24]</span><span class="i0">Each with a searching eye had sought to scan<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The solemn Future, soul predicts to man;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And each forgot how, cloud-like passions mar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the vex'd wave, the mirror of the star;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How all the unquiet thoughts which life supplies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May swell the ocean but to veil the skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dark to Man may grow the heaven that smiled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the clear vision Nature gave the Child.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each, too, in each, where varying most they seem,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Found that which fed half envy, half esteem.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As stood the Pilgrim of the waste before<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stream that parted from the enchanted shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though on the opposing margent of the wave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those fairy boughs but <i>seeming</i> fruitage gave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though his stern manhood in its simple power,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If cross'd the barrier, soon had scorn'd the bower;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, as some monk, whom holier cloisters shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Views from afar the glittering cavalcade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sighs, as sense against his will recalls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fame's knightly lists and Pleasure's festive halls,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, while the conscience chid, the charm enchain'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the heart envied what the soul disdain'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">While Arden's nature in his friend's could find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An untaught force that awed his subtler mind—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Awed, yet allured;—that Eastern calm of eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mien—a mantle and a majesty,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At once concealing all the strife below<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It shames the pride of lofty hearts to show,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And robing Art's lone outlaw with the air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of nameless state the lords of Nature wear;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This kingly mien contrasting this mean form,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This calm exterior with this heart of storm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Touch'd with vague interest, undefined and strange,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The world's quick pupil whose career was change.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Forth from the crowded streets one summer day, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rode the new friends; and cool and silent lay <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through shadowy lanes the chance-directed way. <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">As with slow pace and slacken'd rein they rode,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men's wonted talk to deeper converse flow'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Think'st thou," said Arden, "that the Care, whose speed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Climbs the tall bark and mounts the flying steed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And (still to quote old Horace) hovers round<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our fretted roofs, forbears yon village ground?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Think'st thou that Toil drives trouble from the door;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And does God's sun shine brightest on the Poor?"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 25]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I know not," answer'd Morvale, "but I know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each state feels envy for the state below;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kings for their subjects—for the obscure, the great:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The smallest circle guards the happiest state.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth's real wealth is in the heart;—in truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As life looks brightest in the eyes of youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So simple wants—the simple state most far<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From that entangled maze in which we are,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seem unto nations what youth is to man,"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"'When wild in woods the noble savage ran,'"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said Arden, smiling. "Well, we disagree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even youth itself reflects no charms for me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the shade upon my life bestow'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spreads from the myrtle which my boyhood sow'd."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His bright face fell,—he sigh'd. "And canst thou guess<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why all once coveted now fails to bless?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why all around me palls upon the eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the heart saddens in the summer sky?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is that youth expended life too soon:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A morn too glowing sets in storm at noon."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Nay," answer'd Morvale, gently, "hast thou tried<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That <i>second</i> youth, to which ev'n follies guide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which to the wanderer <small>Sense</small>, when tired and spent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proclaims the fount by which to fix the tent?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heart but rests when sense forbears to roam;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We win back freshness when Love smiles on Home;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Home not to <i>thee</i>, O happy one! denied." <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"> <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"To me of all," the impatient listener cried, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Thy words but probe the wounds I vainly hide; <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That which I pine for, thou hast pictured now;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hearth, the home, the altar, and the vow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tranquil love, unintertwined with shame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The child's sweet kiss;—the Father's holy name;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The link to lengthen a time-honour'd line;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These not for me, and yet these should be mine."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"If," said the Indian, "counsel could avail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or pity soothe, a friend invites thy tale."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Alas!" sigh'd Arden, "nor confession's balm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can heal, nor wisdom whisper back to calm.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet hear the tale—thou wilt esteem me less—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Grief, the Egoist, yearneth to confess.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I tell of guilt—and guilt all men must own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who but avow the loves their youth has known.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Preach as we will, in this wrong world of ours,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man's fate and woman's are contending powers;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 26]</span><span class="i0">Each strives to dupe the other in the game,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Guilt to the victor—to the vanquish'd shame!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He paused, and noting how austerely gloom'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His friend's dark visage, blush'd, and thus resumed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nay, I approve not of the code I find,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not less the wrong to which the world is kind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, to be frank, how oft with praise we scan<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men's actions only when they deal with man;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, gallant Lovelace, free from every art<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That stains the honour or defiles the heart,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>With men</i>;—but how, if woman the pursuit?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What lies degrade him, and what frauds pollute;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet still to Lovelace either sex is mild,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And new Clarissas only sigh—'How wild!'"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Enough," said Morvale; "I perforce believe:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strong Adam owns no equal in his Eve;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But worse the bondage in your bland disguise;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Europe destroys,—kind Asia only buys!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If dull the Harem, yet its roof protects,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Power, when sated, still its slave respects.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With you, ev'n pity fades away with love,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No gilded cage gives refuge to the dove;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Worse than the sin the curse it leaves behind:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here the crush'd heart, or there the poison'd mind,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your streets a charnel or a market made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the lorn hunger, or the loathsome trade.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pardon,—Pass on!"<br /></span> +<span class="i8">"Behold, the Preface done,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arden resumed, "now opens Chapter One!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>III.</b><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><b>LORD ARDEN'S TALE.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Rear'd in a court, a man while yet a boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hermes said 'Rise,' and Venus sigh'd 'Enjoy;'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My earlier dreams, like tints in rainbows given,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Caught from the Muse, glow'd but in clasping heaven;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bird-like instinct of a sphere afar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pined for the air, and chafed against the bar.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But can to Guelphs Augustan tastes belong?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or <i>Georgium Sidus</i> look benign on song?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My short-lived Muse the ungenial climate tried,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breathed some faint warbles, caught a cold, and died!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wise kinsmen whisper'd 'Hush! forewarn'd in time;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The feet that rise are not the feet of Rhyme;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your cards are good, but all is in the lead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Play out the heart, and you are lost indeed:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leave verse, my boy, to unaspiring men—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The eagle's pinion never sheds a pen!'<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 27]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"So fled the Muse! What left the Muse behind?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The aimless fancy and the restless mind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The eyes, still won by whatsoe'er was bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But lost the star's to prize the diamond's light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man, like the child, accepts the bauble boon.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And clasps the coral where he ask'd the moon.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forbid the pomp and royalty of heaven,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the born Poet still the earth is given;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Duped by each glare in which Corruption seems<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To give the glory imaged on his dreams:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus, what had been the thirst for deathless fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grew the fierce hunger for the Moment's name;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ambition placed its hard desires in Power,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And saw no Jove but in the Golden Shower.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No miser I—no niggard of the store—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The end Olympus, but the means the ore:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I look'd below—there Lazarus crawl'd disdain'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I look'd aloft—there, who but Dives reign'd?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He who would make the steeps of power his home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must mask the Titan till he rules the Gnome.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I insist on this, my soul's disease,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Excuse for fault thy practised sight foresees:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It makes the moral of my tale, in truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And boyhood sow'd the poison of my youth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Meanwhile men praised, and women smiled;—the wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bow'd from the height, still bask'd beneath the spring.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pass by the Paphian follies of that day,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When true love comes, it is to close our May.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well, ere my boyish holiday was o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The grim god came, and mirth was mine no more:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A well-born pauper, I seem'd doom'd to live<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By what great men to well-born paupers give:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I had an uncle high in power and state,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who ruled three kingdoms' and one nephew's fate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This uncle loved, as English thanes will all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An autumn's respite in his rural hall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In slaughtering game, relax'd his rigid breast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so,—behold me martyr'd to his guest!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IV.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Wandering, one day, in discontented mood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By a clear brook—through grassy solitude,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leading the dance of light waves chanting low—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A little world of sunshine seem'd to grow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out from the landscape—as with sudden spring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From bosk and brake—leapt the stream glittering.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, the meek home, its porch with roses twined,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Green sward before, a sacred tower behind;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 28]</span><span class="i0">On the green sward the year's last flowers were gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the last glory of the golden day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Paused on the spire, that, shining, soar'd to cleave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those clouds, the loveliest, that precede the eve.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Along the bank, beneath the bowering tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Young fairies play'd—young voices laugh'd in glee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One voice more mellow'd in its silver sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet blithe as rang the gladdest on the ground;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One shape more ripen'd, one sweet face more fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet not less happy, the Titania there.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft voice, fair face, I hear, I see ye still!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shades and dim echoes from the blissful hill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behind me left, to cast but darkness o'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The waste slow-lengthening to the grave before!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"So Love was born. With love invention came;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I won my entrance, but conceal'd my name.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A village priest her father, poor and wise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In aught that clears to mortal sight the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But blind and simple as a child to all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The things that pass upon the earth we crawl;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mask'd Lothario to his eyes appear'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A student youth, by Alma Mater rear'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The word to preach, the hunger to endure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And see Ambition close upon a Cure;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A modest youth, who own'd his learning slight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And brought his taper to the master's light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This tale believed, the good man's harmless pride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was pleased the bashful neophyte to guide:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spread out his books, and, moved to pity, press'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The backward pupil to the daily guest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"So from a neighbouring valley, where they deem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My home, each noon I cross the happy stream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hail the eyes already watchful grown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And clasp the hand that trembles in my own;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But not for guilt had I conceal'd my name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The young warm passion nursed no thought of shame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spell that bound ennobled while it charm'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Romeo's love Lothario's guile disarm'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And vain the guile had been!—impure desire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round that chaste light but hover'd to expire:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her angel nature found its own defence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'n in the instincts of its innocence;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As that sweet plant which opens every hue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of its frank heart to eyes content to view,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But folds its leaves and shrinks in coy disdain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the least touch that would the bloom profane.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 29]</span><span class="i0">Link'd with the woman's Meekness, side by side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stood, not to lose but guard the angel, Pride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pride, with the shield for honour, not the heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sacred from stain, not proof against the dart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brief,—then, such love it was my lot to win<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As sways a life to every grief but—sin.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>V.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Yet in the light of day to win and wed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To boast a bride, yet not to own a shed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To doom the famine, yet proclaim the bliss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And seal the ruin in the nuptial kiss;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love shunn'd such madness for the loved one's sake;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What course could Prudence sanction Love to take?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lenient I knew my kinsman to a vice;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, oh, to folly Cato less precise!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all my future, in my kinsman bound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shadow'd his humours—smiled in him or frown'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But uncles still, however high in state, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are mortal men—and Youth has hope to wait, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Love a conqueror's confidence in Fate.— <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A secret Hymen reconciled in one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Caution and bliss—if Mary could be won?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hard task!—I said it was my lot to win<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sway o'er a life for grief;—this was not sin.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To her I told my name, rank, doubts, and fears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And urged the prayer too long denied with tears—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Reject'st thou still,' I cried, 'well, then to me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pride to offer all life holds to thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I go to tell my love, proclaim my choice—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clasp want, mar fate, meet ruin, and rejoice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So that, at least, when next we meet, thy sigh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall own this truth—"He better loved than I."'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"With that, her hand upon my own she laid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look'd in my eyes—the sacrifice was made;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas, she had no mother!—Nature moved<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That heart to this—she trusted, for she loved!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"I had a friend of lowlier birth than mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sunnier spot allured the trailing vine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My rising fortunes had the southern air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fruit might bless the plant that clamber'd there.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My smooth Clanalbin!—shrewd, if smooth, was he,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His soul was prudent, though his life was free;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scapin to serve, and Machiavel to plot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Red-hair'd, thin-lipp'd, sly, supple,—and a Scot!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To him the double project I confide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To cloak the rite, and yet to clasp the bride;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 30]</span><span class="i0">Long he resisted—solemnly he warn'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And urged the perils love had seen and scorn'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At length subdued, he groan'd a slow consent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pledged a genius practised to invent.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A priest was found—a license was procured,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Due witness hired, and secrecy assured;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All this his task:—'tis o'er;—and Mary's life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bound up in one who dares not call her wife!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Alas—alas, why on the fatal brink<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the abyss—doth not the instinct shrink?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The meaner tribe the coming storm foresees—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the still calm the bird divines the breeze—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ox that grazes shuns the poison-weed—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The unseen tiger frights afar the steed—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To man alone no kind foreboding shows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The latent horror or the ambush'd foes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er each blind moment hangs the funeral pall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaven shines, earth smiles—and night descends on all!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"But I!—fond reader of imagined skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Foretold my future in those stars—her eyes!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O heavenly Moon, circling with magic hues<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mystic beauty all thy beams suffuse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is not in love thine own fair secret seen?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love smooths the rugged—love exalts the mean:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love in each ray inspires the hush'd alarm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love silvers every shadow into charm.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VI.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"O lonely beech, beneath whose bowering shade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tryst, encircling Paradise, was made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How the heart heard afar the hurrying feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And swell'd to breathless words—'At last we meet!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Autumn fades—dark Winter comes, and then<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fate from Elysium calls me back to men;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We part!—not equal is the anguish;—she<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Parts with all earth in that farewell to me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For not the grate more bars the veilèd nun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the fair world with which her soul has done,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than love the heart, that vows, without recall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To one,—fame, honour, memory, hope, and all!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I!—behold me in the dazzling strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gaud, the pomp, the joyous roar of life,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man, with man's heart insatiate, ever stirr'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the crowd's breath to conflict with the herd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which never long one thought alone can sway,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dream fades from us when we leap to-day.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 31]</span><span class="i0">New scenes surround me, new ambitions seize,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All life one fever,—who defy disease?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each touch contagion:—living with the rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The world's large pulse keeps time in every breast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet still for her—for her alone, methought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its web of schemes the vulgar labour wrought:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To ransom fate—to soar, from serfdom, free,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Snap the strong chains of high-born penury;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, grown as bold to earth as to the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proclaim the bliss of happy human ties:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, ever scheming, the soothed conscience deem'd!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fate smiled, and speeded all for which I schemed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My noble kinsman saw with grave applause<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My sober'd moods, too wise to guess the cause.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">''Tis well,' said he, one evening; 'you have caught<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From me the ardour of the patriot's thought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more distinguish'd in the modes of vice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forsworn the race-course, and disdain'd the dice:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A nobler race, a mightier game await<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soul that sets its cast upon the state.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thoughtful, poor, calm, yet eager; such, in truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He who is great in age should be in youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, your commencement!'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">"And my kinsman set<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before the eyes it brighten'd—the Gazette!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, how triumphant, Calendar of Fame!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Halo'd in type, emerged the aspirant's name!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"'We send you second to a court, 'tis true;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Small, as befits a diplomat so new,'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quoth my wise kinsman: 'but requiring all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your natural gifts;—to rise not is to fall!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And harkye, stripling, you are handsome, young,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Active, ambitious, and from statesmen sprung!<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Wed</i> well—add wealth to power by me possess'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sleep on roses,—I will find the rest!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But one false step,—pshaw, boy! I do not preach<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of saws and morals, his own code to each,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By one false step, I mean one foolish thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the wax melts, my Icarus, from your wing!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let not the heart the watchful mind betray,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enough!—no answer!—sail the First of May!'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Here, then, from vapour broke at last the sun!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Station, career, fame, fortune, all begun!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, greater need than ever to conceal<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The secret spring that moved the speeding wheel;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 32]</span><span class="i0">And half forgetting that I wish'd forgot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each thought divides the absent from my lot.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One night, escaped my kinsman's hall, which blazed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With dames who smiled, and garter'd peers who praised,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I seek my lonely home,—ascend the stair,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gain my dim room,—what stranger daunts me there?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A grey old man!—I froze his look before; <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Gorgon's eye scarce fix'd its victim more,— <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bride's sad father on the bridegroom's floor! <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the brief pause, how terrible and fast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As on the drowning seaman, rush'd the past!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How had he learn'd my name,—abode,—the tie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That bound?—for all spoke lightning in his eye.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, on the secret in whose darkness lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Power, future, fortune, pour'd the hateful ray!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus silence ceased.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">"'When first my home you deign'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To seek, what found you?—cheeks no tears had stain'd!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Untroubled hearts, and conscience clear as day:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lips that loved, where now they fear, to pray:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twixt kin and kin, sweet commune undefiled—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The grateful father—the confiding child!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What now that home?—behold! its change may speak<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In hair thus silver'd—in this furrow'd cheek!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My child'—(he paused, and in his voice, not eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tears seek the vent indignant pride denies)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'My child—God pardon me!—I was too proud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To call her "daughter!"—what shall call the crowd?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man—man, she cowers beneath a Father's eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shuns his blessing—with one wish to die;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I that death-bed will resign'd endure<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If—speak the word—the soul that parts is pure?'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"'Who dares deny it?' I began, but check'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the warm burst—cold wisdom hiss'd—'Reflect;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy fears had outstripp'd truth—as yet unknown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The vows, the bond!—are these for thee to own?'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The father mark'd my pause, and changing cheek,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Go on!—why falter if the truth thou speak?'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Who dares deny it?"—Thou!—thy lip—thine eye—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy heart—thy conscience—<i>these</i> are what deny?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Heaven, that I were not thy priest!'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">"His look<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grew stern and dark—the natural Adam shook<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The reverend form an instant;—like a charm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pious memory stay'd the lifted arm;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 33]</span><span class="i0">And shrunk to self-rebuke the threatening word,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Man's not my weapons—I thy servant, Lord!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moved, I replied—'Could love suffice alone <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In this hard world,—the love to thee made known, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A bliss to cherish, 'twere a pride to own: <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if I pause, and if I falter—yet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hide no shame, I strive with no regret.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Believe mine honour—wait the ripening hour;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time hides the germ, the season brings the flower.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wildly he cried—'What words are these?—but one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sentence I ask—her sire should call thee <i>son</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hist, let the heavens but hear us!—in her life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Another lives—if pure she is thy wife!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now answer!'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">I had answer'd, as became<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The native manhood and the knightly name;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But shall I own it? the suspicious chill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The world-wise know, froze up the arrested will.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose but <i>her</i> lips, sworn never to betray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had fail'd their oath, and dragg'd my name to day?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">True, she had left the veil upon the shrine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But set the snare to make confession mine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus half resentment, half disdain, repell'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The man's frank justice, and the truth withheld.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, so invoked, I scorn'd at least the lie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And met the question with this proud reply:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'If thou dost doubt thy child, depart secure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My love is sinless, and her soul is pure.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This by mine honour, and to Heaven, I swear!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dost thou ask more?—then bid thy child declare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What she proclaims as truth, myself will own;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What she withholds, alike I leave unknown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What she demands, I am prepared to yield;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now doubt or spurn me—but my lips are seal'd.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I ceased, and stood with haughty mien and eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That seem'd all further question to defy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He gazed, as if still spell'd in hope or fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hungering for the word that fail'd the ear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At last, and half unconscious, in the thrall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the cold awe, he groan'd—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">'And is this all?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Courage, poor child—there may be justice yet—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Justice, Heaven, justice!'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">With this doubtful threat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He turn'd, was gone!—that look of stern despair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The uncertain footstep tottering down the stair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The clapping door; and then that void and chill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which would be silence, were the conscience still;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 34]</span><span class="i0">That sense of something gone, we would recall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soul's dim stun before it feels its fall.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Next day, the sire my noble kinsman sought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One ruling senates must be just, he thought.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What chanced, untold—what follow'd may declare: <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold me summon'd to my uncle's chair! <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">See his cold eye—<i>I</i> saw my ruin there! <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw and shrunk not, for a sullen pride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Embraced alike the kinsman and the bride:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scorn'd here, the seeming snare by cunning set;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there, coarse thraldom, with rebellion met.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Brief was my Lord—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">'An old man tells me, sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You woo his child, to wed her you demur;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who knows, perhaps (and such his shrewd surmise),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The noose is knit—you but conceal the ties!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Please to inform me, ere I go to court,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How stands the matter?—sir, my time is short.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"'My Lord,' I answer'd, with unquailing brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Not to such ears should youth its faults avow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And grant me pardon if I boldly speak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Youth may have secrets honour shuns to seek.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I own I love, proclaim that love as pure!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If this be sin—its sentence I endure.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All else belongs unto that solemn shrine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the veil'd heart, which manhood holds divine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men's hearths are sacred, so our laws decree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are hearts less sacred? mine at least is free.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suspect, disown, forsake me, if thou wilt;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I prize the freedom where thou seest the guilt.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My kinsman's hand half-shaded the keen eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which glanced askant;—he paused in his reply.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At length, perchance, his practised wit foresaw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Threats could not shake where interest fail'd to awe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And judged it wise to construe for the best<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The all I hid, the little I confess'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calmly he answer'd—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">'Sir, I like this heat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Duper or duped, a well-bred man's discreet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take but this hint (one can't have all in life),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You lose the uncle if you win the wife.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In this, you choose Rank, Station, Power, Career;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In that, Bills, Babies,—and the Bench, I fear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hush;—'the least said' (old proverb, sir, but true!)—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As yet your fault indulgently I view.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 35]</span><span class="i0">Words,—notes (sad stuff!)—some promise rashly made—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Action for breach—<i>that</i> scandal must be stay'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I trust such scrapes will teach you to beware;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twill cost some hundreds—that be my affair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Depart at once—to-morrow—nay, to-day:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When fairly gone, there will be less to pay!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So spoke the Statesman, whom experience told<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The weight of passion in the scales of gold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pleased I escape, but how reprieve enjoy?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One word from her distrusted could destroy!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet that distrust the whispering heart belied,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Self ceased, and anger into pity died;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I thought of Mary in her desolate hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shudder'd at the blast, and trembled for the flower.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why not go seek her?—chide the impatient snare; <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or if faith linger'd, win it to forbear? <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now was the time, no jealous father there! <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift as the thought impell'd me, I obey'd!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis night; once more I greet the moonlit shade;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once more I see the happy murmuring rill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The white cot bower'd beneath the pastoral hill!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An April night, when, after sparkling showers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dewy gems betray the cradled flowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if some sylphid, startled from her bed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the rath blossom by the mortal's tread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had left behind her pearly coronal.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright shone the stars on Earth's green banquet-hall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You seem'd, abroad, to see, to feel, to hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The new life flushing through the virgin year;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The visible growth—the freshness and the balm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pulse of Nature throbbing through the calm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As wakeful, over every happy thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Watch'd through the hush the Earth's young mother—Spring!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm from the lattice shot a steady ray; <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm on the sward its silvery lustre lay; <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And reach'd, to glad the glancing waves at play. <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I stood and gazed within the quiet room;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gazed on her cheek;—<i>there</i>, spring had lost its bloom!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone she sate! <i>Alone!</i>—that worn-out word,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So idly spoken, and so coldly heard;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet all that poets sing, and grief hath known,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of hope laid waste, knells in that word—<span class="smcap">Alone!</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Who contemplates, aspires, or dreams, is not<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone: he peoples with rich thoughts the spot.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The only loneliness—how dark and blind!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is that where fancy cannot dupe the mind;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 36]</span><span class="i0">Where the heart, sick, despondent, tired with all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Looks joyless round, and sees the dungeon wall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When even God is silent, and the curse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of torpor settles on the universe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When prayer is powerless, and one sense of dearth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Abysses all, <i>save</i> solitude, on earth!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So sate the bride!—the drooping form, the eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vacant, yet fix'd,—that air which Misery,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heart's Medusa, hardens into stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sculptured the Death which dwelleth in the lone!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, the wild burst of joy,—the life that came <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift, brightening, bounding through the lips and frame, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When o'er the floors I stole, and whisper'd soft her name! <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Come—come at last! Oh, rapture!'<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Who can say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why meaner natures hold mysterious sway<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the nobler? Why mine orb malign<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ruled as a fate a spirit so divine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Giving or light or darkness all its own<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unto a star so near the Sapphire Throne?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"'So thou art come!'<br /></span> +<span class="i10">'Hush! say whose lips reveal'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All <i>these</i> soft traitors swore to guard conceal'd—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our love—my name?'<br /></span> +<span class="i8">'Not I—not I—thy wife!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No, truth to thee more dear than fame, than life:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A friend, my father's friend, the secret told;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How guess'd I know not. Oh! if Love controll'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My heart that hour—that bitter hour—when, there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bent that old man who——Husband, hear my prayer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have mercy on my father!—break, oh, break<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This crushing silence!—bid his daughter speak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And say, Thou'rt not dishonour'd?'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i14">'If thou wilt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell all;—dishonour not alone in guilt!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men's eyes dishonour in the fallen see;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speak, and dishonour thou inflict'st on me:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The debt, the want, the beggary, and the shame,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pauper branded on the noble's name!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speak and inflict—I still can spurn—the doom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unveil the altar to prepare the tomb!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I, who already in my grasp behold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright from Hesperian fields, the fruit of gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By which alone the glorious prize we gain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Foil'd of the goal will die upon the plain.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 37]</span><span class="i0">I own two brides, both dear alike, and see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In one Ambition—in the other Thee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Destroy thy rival, and to her destroy'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Succeeds despair to make the world a void.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, with stern frankness to that shrinking ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I told my hopes,—in her my only fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Told, with a cheek no humbling blushes dyed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How met the sire—how unavow'd the bride!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Thus have I wrong'd—this cruel silence mine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now be truth, and truth is vengeance, thine!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I ceased to speak; lo, she had ceased to weep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her white lips writhed, as Suffering in its sleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And o'er the frame a tremulous shudder went,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As every life-stream to the source was sent:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The very sense seem'd absent from the look,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with the Heart, its temple, Reason shook!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So there was silence; such a silence broods<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In winter nights, o'er frost-bound solitudes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Darkness, and ice, and stillness all in one,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The silence without life, the withering without sun.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But o'er that silence, as at night's full noon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through breathless cloud, shimmers the sudden moon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sad but heavenly smile a moment stirr'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And heralded the martyr's patient word:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Fear not; pursue thy way to fortune, fame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will not soil thy glory with my shame.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Betray! avenge!—For ever, until thou<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proclaim the bond and ratify the vow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Closed in this heart, as lamps within the tomb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall waste the light, that lives amidst the gloom,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That lives, for oh! the day <i>shall</i> come at length,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though late, though slow,—(give hope, for hope is strength!)—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, from a father's breast no more exiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wife may ask forgiveness for the child?'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VIII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"And so you parted?" with a moisten'd eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said Morvale;—"nay, man, spare me the reply;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too much the Eve has moved me——"<br /></span> +<span class="i16">"Not to feel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That for the serpent which thy looks reveal,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said Arden, sadly smiling; "yet in truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See how the grey world grafts its age on youth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See how we learn to prize the bullion Vice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Coin'd in all shapes, yet still but Avarice;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stamp may vary,—you the coin may call<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Ambition,' 'Power,' 'Success,'—but Gold is all.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 38]</span><span class="i0">Mine is the memoir of a selfish age:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turn every leaf—slight difference in the page;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through each, the same fierce struggle to secure<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth's one great end—distinction from the Poor;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All our true wealth, like alchemists of old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fused in the furnace—for a grain of gold.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IX.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Well then, we parted,—to make brief the tale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I take my orders, and my leave, set sail;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For weeks, for months, fond letters, long nor few,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keep hope alive with love for ever new:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If she had suffer'd, she betray'd it not;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All save one sweetness—'that we loved' forgot.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She never named her father;—once indeed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The name <i>was</i> writ, but blurr'd;—it was decreed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That she should fill the martyr-measure,—hide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not the dart only, but the bleeding side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, wholly generous in the offering made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Veil even sorrow, lest it should upbraid.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"At length one letter came—the <i>last</i>; more blest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In faith, in love, false hope, than all the rest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But at the close some hastier lines appear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tremblingly writ, and stain'd with many a tear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In which, less said than timorously implied<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(The maid still blushing through the secret bride),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I heard her heart through that far distance beat:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hour Eve's happiest daughter dreads to meet,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hour of Nature's agony was nigh,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Husband and father, false one, where was I?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Slow day on slow day, unrevealing, crept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still its ice the freezing silence kept:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fear seized my soul, I could no longer brook<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The voiceless darkness which the daylight took.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I feign'd excuse for absence;—left the shore:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair blow the winds;—behold her home once more!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Her home! a desert! Still, though rank and wild,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the rank grass the heedless floweret smiled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still by the porch you heard the ungrateful bee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still brawl'd the brooklet's unremembering glee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But they—the souls of the sweet pastoral ground?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Green o'er the father rose the sullen mound!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amidst his poor he slept; <i>his</i> end was known,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life's record rounded with the funeral stone:<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 39]</span><span class="i0">But she?—but Mary?—but my child?—what dews<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fall on <i>their</i> graves?—what herbs which heaven renews<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pall their pure clay?—Oh! were it mine at least<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To weep, belovèd, where your relics rest!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bear with me, Morvale,—pity if you can—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These thoughts unman me—no, they prove me man!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Man of the cities," with a mutter'd scorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Groan'd the stern Nomad from the lands of Morn,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Man of the sleek, far-looking prudence, which<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beggars life's May, life's Autumn to enrich;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which, the deed doing, halts not in its course,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, the deed done, finds comfort in remorse.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man, in whom sentiment, the bloodless shade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of noble passion, alternates with trade,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hard in his error—feeble in his tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And huckstering love, yet prattling of the spheres!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So mused the sombre savage, till the pale<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And self-gnaw'd worldling nerved him to his tale:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The hireling watch'd the bed where Mary lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In stranger arms my first-born saw the day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Below,—unseen <i>his</i> travail, all unknown<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>His</i> war with Nature, sate the sire alone:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had not thrust the one he still believed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If silent, sinless, or in sin deceived—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had not thrust her from a father's door;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So Shame came in, and cower'd upon the floor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And face to face with Shame, he sate to hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The groan above bring torture to his ear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In that sad night, when the young mother slept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forth from his door the elder mourner crept;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Absent for days, none knowing whither bent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till back return'd abruptly as he went.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a swift tremulous stride he climb'd the stair, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the closed chamber gleam'd his silver hair, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Mary heard his voice soft—pitying—as in prayer! <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Child, child, I was too hard!—But woe is wild;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now I know all!—again I clasp my child!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within his arms, upon his heart again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His Mary lay, and strove for words in vain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She strove for words, but better spoke through tears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The love the heart through silence vents and hears.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"All this I gather'd from the nurse, who saw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The scene, which dews from hireling eyes could draw;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So far;—her sob the pastor heard, and turn'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waved his wan hand, nor what more chanced she learn'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Next morn in death the happier father lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From sleep to Heaven his soul had pass'd away;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 40]</span><span class="i0">He had but lived to pardon and to bless<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His child;—emotion kills in its excess,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that task done, why longer on the rack<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stretch the worn frame?—God's mercy call'd him back.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The day they buried him, while yet the strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of sense and memory raged for death and life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Mary's shatter'd brain, her father's friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose hand, perchance, had sped him to his end,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose zeal officious had explored, reveal'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My name, the half, worse half, of all conceal'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sought her, and saw alone: When gone, a change<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came o'er the victim, terrible and strange;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All grief seem'd hush'd—a stern tranquillity<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm'd the wan brow and fix'd the glassy eye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She spoke not, moved not, wept not,—on her breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slept Earth's new stranger—not more deep its rest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They fear'd her in that mood—with noiseless tread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stole from the room; and, ere the morn, she fled.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gone the young Mother with her babe!—no trace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the wind goes, she vanish'd from the place;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They search'd the darkness of the wood, they pried<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into the secrets of the tempting tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vain,—unseen on earth as in the wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where life found refuge or despair a grave."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And is this all?" said Morvale—<br /></span> +<span class="i12">"No, my thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Guess'd at the clue; her father's friend I sought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A stern hard man, of Calvin's iron mould,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet I moved him, and his tale he told.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It seem'd (by me unmark'd), amidst the rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My uncle's board had known this homely guest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our evil star had led the guest, one day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where through the lone glade wound our lovers' way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To view, with Age's hard, suspecting eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The high-born courtier in the student's guise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus, when the father, startled to vague fears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By his child's waning cheek and unrevealing tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">First to his brother priest for counsel came,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He urged stern question—track'd the grief to shame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Guess'd the undoer, and disclosed the name.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Time went—the priest had still a steady trust<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Mary's honour; but, to mine unjust,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Divined some fraud—explored, and found a clue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There had been marriage, if the rites were due;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had learn'd Clanalbin's name, as one whose eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had seen, whose witness might attest the tie.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This news to Mary's father was convey'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The eve her infant on her heart was laid.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 41]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"That night he left his home, he did not rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till found Clanalbin—'Well, and he confess'd?'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cried impatient;—my informer's eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flash'd fire—'Confess'd the fraud,' was his reply.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'The fraud!'—'The impious form, the vile disguise!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mock priest, false marriage, hell's whole woof of lies!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Lies!—had the sound earth open'd its abyss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath my feet, my soul had shudder'd less.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lies!—but not mine!—his own!—not mine such ill.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O wife, I fly—to right, avenge, and claim thee still!'"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Thy hand—I wrong'd thee," Morvale falter'd, while<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His strong heart heaved—"Thou didst avenge the guile?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou found'st thy friend—thy witness—well! and he?"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Had spoken truth, the truth of perfidy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This man had loved me in his own dark way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loved for past kindness in our wilder day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loved for the future, which, obscure for him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Link'd with my fate, with that grew bright or dim.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I told thee how he warr'd with my intent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The strong dissuasion, and the slow consent:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The slow consent but veil'd the labour'd wile;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I might yet be great, he grovell'd to be vile.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>'Twas</i> a false Hymen—a mock priest—and she<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pure, dishonour'd—the dishonourer free!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"This then the tale that, while it snapp'd the chord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still to the father's heart the child restored;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This told to her by the hard zealot's tongue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had the last hope from spoil'd existence wrung;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had driven the outcast through the waste to roam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with the altar shatter'd ev'n the home.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No! trust ev'n then,—ev'n then, hope, was not o'er:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One morn the wanderer reach'd Clanalbin's door.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O steadfast saint! amidst the lightning's scathe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still to the anchor clung the lingerer Faith;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still through the tempest of a darken'd brain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where misery gnaw'd and memory rack'd in vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The last lone angel that deserts the grief<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of noble souls, survived and smiled,—<span class="smcap">Belief!</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There had she come, herself myself to know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bow'd the head, and waited for the blow!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What matter how the villain soothed, or sought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To mask the crime?—enough that it was wrought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She heard in silence,—when all said, all learn'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still silent linger'd; then a flush return'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the pale cheek,—the Woman and the Wrong<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rear'd the light form,—the voice came clear and strong.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tell him my father's grave is closed; the dread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of shame sleeps with him—dying with the dead:<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 42]</span><span class="i0">Tell him on earth we meet no more;—in vain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would he redress the wrong, and clear the stain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His child is nameless; and his bride—what now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To her, too late, the mockery of the vow?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I was his wife—his equal;—to endure<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth's slander? Yes!—because my soul was pure!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, were he kneeling here,—fame, fortune won,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My pride would bar him from the fallen one.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say this; if more he seek my fate, reply—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Once stain the ermine, and its fate—to die!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I need not tell thee if my fury burst<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against the wretch—the accurser—the accurst!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I need not tell thee if I sought each trace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That lured false hope to woe's lorn resting-place;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If, when all vain,—gold, toil, and art essay'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still in my sunlight stalk'd the avenging shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lost to my life for ever;—on the ground<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where dwell the spectres,—Conscience—ever found!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>X.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"True was the preface to thy gloomy tale;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pity can soothe not—counsel not avail,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said Morvale, moodily. "What bliss foregone!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What years of rich life wasted! What a throne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the arch-heaven abandon'd! And for what?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Darkness and gold!—the slave's most slavish lot!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy choice forsook the light—the day divine—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God's loving air—for bondage and the mine!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! what delight to struggle side by side<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With one loved soother!—up the steep to guide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her steps—as clinging to thy hardier form,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She treads the thorn and smiles upon the storm!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when firm will and gallant heart had won<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hill-top opening to the steadfast sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look o'er the perils of the vanquish'd way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bless the toil through which the victory lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And murmur—'Which the sweeter fate, to dare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With thee the evil, or with thee to share<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The good?' Nay, haunting must thine error be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee Camdeo gave the blest Amrita tree,<a name="FNanchor_D_13" id="FNanchor_D_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_13" class="fnanchor">[M]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ambrosia of the gods,—to scorn the prize,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And choose the Champac<a name="FNanchor_E_14" id="FNanchor_E_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_14" class="fnanchor">[N]</a> for its golden dyes:<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 43]</span><span class="i0">Thou hast forsaken—(thou must bear the grief)—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The immortal fruitage for the withering leaf!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Nay," answer'd Arden, writhing, "cease to chide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who taunts the ordeal should the fire have tried.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If Fortune's priests had train'd thy soul, like mine, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To worship Fortune's as the holiest shrine, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perchance my error, cynic, had been thine!" <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Pardon," said Morvale; "and my taunt to shame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Know me thus weak,—I envy while I blame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Thou hast been loved!</i> And had I err'd like thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mine had been crime, from which thy soul is free,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy gentler breast the traitor could forgive——"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Never!" cried Arden—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">"<i>Does the Traitor live?</i>"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as the ear that hissing whisper thrill'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That calm stern eye the very life-blood chill'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For there, the instinct Cain bequeath'd us spoke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from the chain the wild's fierce savage broke.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O yes!" the fiery Alien thus renew'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I know how holy life by law is view'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know how all life's glory may be marr'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If safe the clay, which, as life's all, ye guard.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Law—Law! what is it but the word for gold?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Revenge is crime, if taken—Law if sold!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vile tongues, vile scribes, may rot your name away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Law protects you,—with a fine to pay!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The child dishonour'd, the adulterous wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gold requites all, save this base garment—life!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, <i>life</i> alone is sacred!—<i>so</i>, your law<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hems the worm's carcass with a godhead's awe:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, if some mighty wrong with black despair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blots out your sun, and taints to plague the air;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If with a human impulse shrinks the soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back from the dross which compensates the whole;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If from the babbling court, the legal toil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the lash'd lackey's guerdon, ye recoil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And seize your vengeance with your own right arm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How every dastard quivers with alarm!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mine be the heart, that can itself defend—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hate to the foe, devotion to the friend!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fearless trust, and the relentless strife:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Honour unsold, and wrong avenged with life!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He ceased, with trembling lip and haughty crest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The native heathen labouring in the breast!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As waves some pine, with all its storm of boughs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er the black gulf Norwegian winds arouse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shook that strong spirit, gloomy and sublime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bending with troubled thought above the abyss of crime!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 44]</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>XI.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Long was the silence, till to calm restored<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moody Indian and the startled lord.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And yet," resumed the first, with softer mien,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lip that smiled, half mocking, yet serene,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Not long thy sorrow dimm'd thy life;—unless<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men's envy wrong thee, thou mightst more confess<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of loves, perchance as true and as deceived;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of rose-wreaths wither'd in the hands that weaved.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Talk to the world of Arden's dazzling lord, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tales of joyous love go round the board; <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, though adoring less, by beauty more adored?" <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Ill dost thou read the human heart, my friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If bounding man's life with the novel's end;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where lovers married, ever after love—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To birds alone the turtle and the dove!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where wicked men (if I be of the gang)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Repent, turn hermits, or cut throats and hang!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our souls repent,—our lives but rarely change;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grief halts awhile, then goads us on to range.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More woo'd than wooing, scarce I feign'd to feel—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What magic to the magnet draws the steel?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wealth soon grew mine, the parasital fame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Conceal'd the nature while it deck'd the name;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kinsman on kinsman died, each death brought gold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In birth, wealth, fame, strange charms the sex behold!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The outward grace the life of courts bestows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tongue that learns unconsciously to gloze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All drew to mine the fates I could but mar;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Aphroditè was my native star!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forgive the boast, not blessings these, but banes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If spring sows only flowers, small fruit the autumn gains!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I mark my grave coevals gather round<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their harvest-home, with sheaves for garners bound;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I, that planted but the garden, see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How the blooms fade! no harvest waits for me!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Yet didst thou never love again? as o'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soft stream, gliding by the enamell'd shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Didst thou ne'er pause, and in some lovelier vale<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moor thy light prow, and furl thy silken sail?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But once," said Arden; "years on years had fled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And half it soothed to think my Mary dead.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I had sworn (could faith, could honour less?)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My hearth at least to priestly loneliness;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To wed no other while she lived, and be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If found at last, for late atonement free.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 45]</span><span class="i0">I kept the vow, till this ambiguous doom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half wed, half widow'd, took a funeral gloom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So many years had pass'd, no tidings gain'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The chance so slight that yet the earth retain'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At length, though doubtful, I believed that time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had from the altar ta'en the ban of crime.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Impulse, occasion, what you will, at last<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seized one warm moment to abjure the past.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>XII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Far other, she, who charm'd me thus awhile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thought in each glance, and mind in every smile;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Genius was hers, with all the Iris dyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That paint on cloud the arch that spans the skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wild in caprice, impassion'd, and yet coy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Woman when mournful, a frank child in joy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Phidian dream, in one concentring all <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The thousand spells with which the charmers thrall, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pleasing most the eye which years begin to pall. <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I do not say I loved her as, in truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We only love when life is in its youth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But here at least I thought to fix my doom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from the weary waste reclaim a home.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enough I loved, to woo, to win, to bind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To her my fate, if Heaven had so assign'd!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The nuptial day was fix'd, the plighting kiss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glow'd on my lips;—that moment the abyss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which, hid by moss-grown time, yet yawn'd as wide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath my feet, divorced me from her side.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A letter came—Clanalbin's hand; what made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Treason so bold to brave the man betray'd?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I break the seal—O Heaven! my Mary yet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lived; in want's weeds the wretch his victim met;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Track'd to her home (a beggar's squalid cell!), <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Told all the penitence that lips could tell: <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Come back and plead thyself, and all may yet be well!' <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had I a choice? could I delay to choose?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here conscience dragg'd me, there it might excuse.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Few hurried lines, obscurely dark with all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The war within, my later vows recall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breathe passionate prayer—for hopeless pardon sue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shape soft words to soothe the stern adieu.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, as some soul the beckoning ghost obeys,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The haunting shadow of the vanish'd days<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lures to the grave of Youth my charmèd tread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sighs, 'At length thou shalt appease the Dead!'<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 46]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Scarce had I reach'd the shores of England, ere<br /></span> +<span class="i0">New pomps spring round me,—I am Arden's heir!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The last pretender to the princely line,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose flag had waved from towers in Palestine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Borne to our dark Walhalla,—left me poor<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In all which sheds a blessing on the boor.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes, thou art right! how, at each sickening grasp<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the heart's food, had gold befool'd my clasp!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gorged with a satrap's treasure, the soul's dearth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Envied the pauper crawling to his hearth."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But Mary—she—thy wife before Heaven's eye?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Lost as before!" was Arden's anguish-cry;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Not beggary, famine—not her child (for whom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What could she hope from earth?—as stern a doom!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could bow the steel of that proud chastity,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which scorn'd as alms the atonement due from me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of the sense of wrong her grandeur grown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She look'd on shame from Sorrow as a throne.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once more more she fled;—no sign!—again the same<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vain track—vain chase!—Not <i>here</i> was I to blame!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Thou track the outcast!" mutter'd Morvale!—"No!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too far from Luxury lies the world of Woe!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Henceforth," sigh'd Arden, "hope, aim, end, confined<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To one—my heart, if tortured, is resign'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So lately seen, oh! sure she liveth yet!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once found—oh! strong thine eloquence, Regret!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The palace and the coronal, the gauds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With which our vanity our will defrauds,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These may not tempt her, but the simple words<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'I love thee still,' will touch on surer chords,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And youth rush back with that young melody,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the lone moonlight and the trysting-tree!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">As the tale ceased, the fields behind them lay,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The huge town once more open'd on the way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The whir of wheels, the galliard cavalcade;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The crowd of pleasure, and the roar of trade;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The solemn abbey soaring through the dun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And reeking air, in which sunk slow the sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dusky trees, the sultry flakes of green;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The haunts where Fashion yawns away the spleen;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vista on vista widens to reveal<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ease on the wing, and Labour at the wheel!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The friends grew silent in that common roar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Real around them, the Ideal o'er;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 47]</span><span class="i0">So the peculiar life of each, the unseen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Core of our being—what we are, have been—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spirit of our memory and our soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sink from the sight, when merged amidst the whole;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet atom atom never can absorb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each drop moves rounded in its separate orb.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + +<h3>PART THE THIRD.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>I.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lord Arden's tale robb'd Morvale's couch of sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The star still trembled on the troubled deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er the waste ocean gleam'd its chilling glance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To make more dark the desolate expanse.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">This contrast of a fate, but vex'd by gales<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faint with too full a balm from Rhodian Vales;<a name="FNanchor_A_15" id="FNanchor_A_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_15" class="fnanchor">[O]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">This light of life all squander'd upon one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round whom hearts moved, as planets round a sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mocks the lone doom <i>his</i> barren years endure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As wasted treasure but insults the poor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back on his soul no faithful echoes cast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those tones which make the music of the past.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No memories hallow, and no dreams restore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love's lute, far heard from Youth's Hesperian shore;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The flowers that Arden trampled on the sod,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still left the odour where the step had trod;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those flowers, so wasted!—had for <i>him</i> but smiled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One bud,—its breath had perfumed all the wild!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He own'd the moral of the reveller's life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So Christian warriors own the sin of strife,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, oh! how few can lift the soul above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth's twin-born rulers,—Fame and Woman's Love!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Just in that time, of all most drear, upon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fate's barren hill-tops, gleam'd the coming sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From nature's face the veil of night withdrawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth smiled, and Heaven was open'd in the dawn!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">How chanced this change?—how chances all below?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What sways the life the moment doth bestow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An impulse, instinct, look, touch, word, or sigh—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unlocks the Hades, or reveals the sky.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 48]</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>II.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">'Twas eve; Calantha had resumed again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wonted life, recaptured to its chain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the calm chamber, Morvale sat, and eyed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lucy's lithe shape, that seem'd on air to glide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eyed with complacent, not impassion'd, gaze;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So Age looks on, where some fair Childhood plays:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far as soars Childhood from dim Age's scope,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beauty to him who links it not with hope!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Sing me, sweet Lucy," said Calantha, "sing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our favourite song—'<i>The Maiden and the King</i>.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brother, thou lov'st not music, or, at least,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But some wild war-song that recalls the East.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who loves not music, still may pause to hark<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nature's free gladness hymning in the lark:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As sings the bird sings Lucy! all her art<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A voice in which you listen to a heart."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">A blush of fear, a coy reluctant "nay"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Avail her not—thus ran the simple lay:—<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>THE MAIDEN AND THE KING.</b><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>I.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">"And far as sweep the seas below,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">My sails are on the deep;<br /></span> +<span class="i3">And far as yonder eagles go,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">My flag on every keep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">"Why o'er the rebel world within<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Extendeth not the chart?<br /></span> +<span class="i3">No sail can reach—no arms can win<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The kingdom of a heart!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">So sigh'd the king—the linden near;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A listener heard the sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">And thus the heart he did not hear,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Breathed back the soft reply:—<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>II.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">"And far as sweep the seas below,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">His sails are on the deep;<br /></span> +<span class="i3">And far as yonder eagles go,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">His flag on every keep;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">"<span class="smcap">Love</span>, <i>thou</i> art not a king alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Both slave and king thou art!<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Who seeks to sway, must stoop to own<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The kingdom of a heart!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">So sigh'd the Maid, the linden near,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Beneath the lonely sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Oh, lonely <i>not</i>!—for angels hear<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The humblest human sigh!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 49]</span></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>III.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">His ships are vanish'd from the main,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">His banners from the keep;<br /></span> +<span class="i3">The carnage triumphs on the plain;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The tempest on the deep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">"The purple and the crown are mine"—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">An Outlaw sigh'd—"no more;<br /></span> +<span class="i3">But still as greenly grows the vine<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Around the cottage door!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">"Rest for the weary pilgrim, Maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And water from the spring!"<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Before the humble cottage pray'd<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The Man that was a King.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">Oh, was the threshold that he cross'd<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The gate to fairy ground?<br /></span> +<span class="i3">He would not for the kingdom lost,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Have changed the kingdom found!<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Divine interpreter thou art, O Song!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To thee all secrets of all hearts belong!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How had the lay, as in a mirror, glass'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sullen present and the joyless past,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lock'd in the cloister of that lonely soul!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere the song ceased, to Lucy's side he stole,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, with the closing cadence, mournfully<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lifted his doubtful gaze:—so eye met eye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">If thou hast loved, re-ope the magic book;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say, do its annals date not from a look?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In which two hearts, unguess'd perchance before,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rush'd each to each, and were as two no more;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While all thy being—by some Power, above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its will constrain'd—sigh'd, trembling, "This is Love."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">A look! and lo! they knew themselves alone!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calantha's place was void—the witness gone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They had not mark'd her sad step glide away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When in sweet silence sank, less sweet, the lay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For unto both abruptly came the hour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When springs the rose-fence round the fairy bower;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When earth shut out, all life transferr'd to one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each <i>other</i> life seems cloud before the sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It comes, it goes, we know if it depart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But by the warmer light and quicken'd heart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">And what then chanced? O, leave not told, but guess'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is Love a god?—a temple, then, the breast!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not to the crowd in cold detail allow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its delicate worship, its mysterious vow!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 50]</span><span class="i0">Around the first sweet homage in the shrine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let the veil fall, and but the Pure divine!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Coy as the violet shrinking from the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blush of Virgin Youth first woo'd and won;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And scarce less holy from the vulgar ear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tone that trembles but with noble fear:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Near to God's throne the solemn stars that move<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The proud to meekness, and the pure to love!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Let days pass on; nor count how many swell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The episode of Life's hack chronicle!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Changed the abode, of late so stern and drear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How doth the change speak—"Love hath enter'd here!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How lightly sounds the footfall on the floor!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How jocund rings sweet laughter, hush'd no more!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wide from two hearts made happy, wide and far,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Circles the light in which they breathe and are;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Liberal as noontide streams the ambient ray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fills each crevice in the world with day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">And changed is Lucy! where the downcast eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the meek fear, when that dark man was by?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo! as young Una thrall'd the forest-king,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She leads the savage in her silken string;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plays with the strength to her in service shown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mounts with infant whim the woman's throne!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charm'd from his lonely moods and brooding mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bound by one to union with his kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more the wild man thirsted for the waste;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more, 'mid joy, a joyless one, misplaced;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His very form assumed unwonted grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bliss gave more than beauty to his face:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let but delighted thought from all things cull<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet food and fair—hiving the Beautiful,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lo! the form shall brighten with the soul!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gods bloom only by joy's nectar bowl.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Nor deem it strange that Lucy fail'd to trace <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In that dark brow, the birthright of disgrace, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Europe's ban on Earth's primeval race. <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Were she less pure, less harmless, less the child,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not on the savage had the soft one smiled.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'n as the young Venetian loved the Moor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love gains the shrine when Pity opes the door;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love like the Poet, whom it teaches, where<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round it the Homely dwells, invents the Fair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And takes a halo from the air it gilds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To crown a Seraph for the Heaven it builds.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 51]</span><span class="i0">And both were children in this world of ours,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Maiden and savage! the same mountain flowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not trimm'd in gardens, not exchanged their hues,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fresh from the natural sun and hardy dews,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the faint fragrance and the sickly dyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which, Art calls forth by walling out the skies:<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>So</i> children both, each seem'd to have forgot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How poor the maid's—how rich the lover's lot;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ne'er did the ignorant Indian pause in fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lest friends should pity, and lest foes should sneer.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"What will the world say?"—question safe and sage;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The parrot's world should be his gilded cage;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But fly, frank wilding, with free wings unfurl'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where thy mate carols—there, behold thy world!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stranger still that no decorous pride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Warn'd her, the beggar, from the rich man's side.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sneer, ye world-wise, and deem her ignorance art;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She saw her wealth (and blush'd not) in her heart!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saw through the glare of gold his lonely breast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had but gold, and hers was all the rest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Pleased in the bliss to her, alas! denied, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calantha hail'd her brother's plighted bride: <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Glad thou the heart which I made sad," she sigh'd. <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since Arden's tale, but once the friends had met,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor known to one the other's rapture yet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some fancied clue, some hope awhile restored,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had from the Babel lured the brilliant lord.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wonted commune Morvale fail'd to miss,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We want no confidant in happiness.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Baffled, and sick of hope, wealth, life, and all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One night return'd the noble to his hall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He found some lines, stern, brief, in Morvale's hand,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brief with dark meaning,—stern with rude command,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bidding his instant presence. Arden weigh'd <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each word; some threat was in each word convey'd; <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A chill shot through his heart—foreboding he obey'd. <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>III.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">What caused the mandate?—wherefore do I shrink?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stream runs on,—why tarry at the brink?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, let us halt, and in the pause between<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sorrow and joy, behold the quiet scene;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The chamber stately in that calm repose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which Time's serene, sweet conqueror, <span class="smcap">Art</span> bestows;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, in bright shapes which claim our homage still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Live the grand exiles from the Olympian Hill;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 52]</span><span class="i0">Still the pale Queen Cithæron forests know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turns the proud eye, and lifts the deathful bow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still on the vast brow of the father-god,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hangs the hush'd thunder of the awful nod;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still fair, as when on Ida's mountain seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Troy's young shepherd, Beauty's bashful Queen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still Ind's divine Iacchus laughing weaves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His crown of clustering grapes and glossy leaves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still thou, Arch-type of Song, ordain'd to soothe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rest of Heroes, and with deathless youth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crown the Celestial Brotherhood—dost hold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brimm'd with the drink of gods, the urn of gold!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">All live again! The Art which images<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man's noblest conquest, as it slowly frees<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thought out of matter, labouring patient on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till springs a god-world from reluctant stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charm'd Morvale more than all the pomp and glow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With which the Painter limns a world we know.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">'Twas noon, and broken by the gentle gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of coolest draperies, through the shadowy room,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In moted shaft aslant, the curious ray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forced lingering in, through tiers of flowers, its way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glanced on the lute (just hush'd, to leave behind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Elysian dreams, the music of the mind),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Play'd round the songstress, and with warmer flush<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Steep'd the young cheek, unconscious of its blush,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fell, as if in worship, at thy base,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O sculptured Psyche<a name="FNanchor_B_16" id="FNanchor_B_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_16" class="fnanchor">[P]</a> of the soul-lit face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bending to earth resign'd the mournful eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since earth must prove the pathway to the sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doom'd here, below, Love's footprint to explore <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till Jove relents, the destined wandering o'er, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in celestial halls, Soul meets with Love once more.<a name="FNanchor_C_17" id="FNanchor_C_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_17" class="fnanchor">[Q]</a> <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">And, side by side, the lovers sat,—their words<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low mix'd with notes from Lucy's joyous birds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sole witnesses and fit—those airy things,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, 'midst the bars, can still unfold the wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And soothe the cell with language, learn'd above;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the caged bird—so on the earth is love!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 53]</span><span class="i0">Their talk was of the future; from the height<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Hope, they saw the landscape bathed in light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, where the golden dimness veil'd the gaze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Guess'd out the spot, and mark'd the sites of happy days;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till silence came, and the full sense and power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the blest Present,—the rich-laden Hour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That overshadow'd them, as some hush'd tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With mellow fruitage bending heavily,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What time, beneath the tender gloom reclined,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dies on the lap of summer-noon the wind!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Roused from the lulling spell with startled blush<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At such strange power in silence, to the hush<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The maid restored the music, while she sought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fresh banks for that sweet river—loving thought.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Tell me," she said, "if not too near the gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of some sad tale, the rash desire presume;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What severs so the chords that should entwine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With one warm bond our sister's heart and thine?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why does she love yet dread thee? what the grief<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That shrinks from utterance and disdains relief?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hast thou not been too stern?—nay, pardon! nay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let thy words chide me,—not thy looks dismay!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Not unto thee, beneath whose starry eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each wild wave hushes, did my looks reply;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They were the answer to mine own dark thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which back the grief, thy smile had banish'd, brought.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Well—to the secrets of my soul thy love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath such sweet right, I lift the veil above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Home's shattered gods, and show what wounds belong<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To writhing honour and revengeless wrong.—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Rear'd in the desert, round its rugged child,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All we call life, group'd, menacing and wild;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But to man's soul there is an inner life;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>There</i>, one soft vision smiled away the strife!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fairy shape, that seem'd afar to stand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the lost shores of Youth—the Fairy land;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A voice that call'd me 'brother;'—years had fled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since my rough breast had pillow'd that sweet head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet still my heart throbb'd with the pressure; still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tears, such as mothers know, my eyes would fill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prayers, such as fathers pray, my soul would breathe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The oak were sere but for that jasmine-wreath!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At length, wealth came; my footsteps left the wild,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again we met:—to woman grown the child:<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 54]</span><span class="i0">How did we meet?—that heart to me was dead!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bird, far heard amidst the waste was fled!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With earthlier fires that breast had learn'd to burn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And what yet left? but ashes in the urn:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Woo'd and abandon'd! all of love, hope, soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lavish'd—now lifeless!—well, were this the whole!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the good name—the virgin's pure renown—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Woman's white robe, and Honour's starry crown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lost, lost, for ever!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">O'er his visage past<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His trembling hand,—then, hurriedly and fast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As one who from the knife of torture swerves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then spurns the pang, as pride the weakness nerves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Resumed—"As yet <i>that</i> secret was withheld,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All that I saw, was sorrow that repell'd,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A dreary apathy, whose death-like chill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Froze back my heart and left us sever'd still.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"One night I fled that hard indifferent eye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To crowds, the heart that Home rejects, will fly!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gay glides the dance, soft music fills the hall:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I fled, to find, the loneliness through all!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou know'st but half a brother's bond I claim,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My mother's daughter bears her father's name;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My mother's heart had long denied her son,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And loath'd the tie that pride had taught to shun.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My sister's lips, forbid the bond to own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Left the scorn'd life, a brother breathed, unknown.<a name="FNanchor_D_18" id="FNanchor_D_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_18" class="fnanchor">[R]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not even yet the alien blood confest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, in the swart hues of the Eastern guest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And unfamiliar name, could kindred trace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the young Beauty of the Northern Race?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm in the crowd I stood, when hark, a word<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smote on my ear, and stunn'd the soul that heard!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sound, with withering laughter muttered o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blistering the name—O God!—a sister bore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nought clear, and nought defined, save scorn alone,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not heard the name scorn coupled with her own;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Somewhat of nuptials fix'd, of broken ties,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The foul cause hinted in the vile surmise,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 55]</span><span class="i0">The gallant's fame for conquests, lightly won,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For homes dishonour'd, and for hearts undone:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not one alone on whom my wrath could seize,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From lip to lip the dizzying slander flees;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No single ribald separate from the herd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the blent hum one stinging tumult stirr'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One felt, unseen, infection circling there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A bodiless venom in the common air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as the air impalpable!—so seem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The undistinguished terrors of a dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now clear, now dim, transform'd from shape to shape,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gibbering spectres scare us and escape.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Fearful the commune, in that dismal night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between the souls which could no more unite,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lawful anger and the shaming fears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man's iron question, woman's burning tears;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All that, once utter'd, rend for aye the ties<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the close bond God fashion'd in the skies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I learn'd at last,—for 'midst my wrath, deep trust<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In what I loved, left even passion just;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I believed the word, the lip, the eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That to my horrid question flash'd reply;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I learn'd at last that but the name was stain'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Honour was wreck'd, but Purity remain'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh pardon, pardon!—if a doubt that sears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A word that stains, profane such holy ears!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, oft amidst my loneliness, my heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath communed with itself, and groan'd apart,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Recall'd that night, and in its fierce despair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shaped some full vengeance from the desert air,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I forgot what angel, new from Heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet spotless listener, to my side was given!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"But who the recreant lover?—this, in vain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My question sought; that truth not hard to gain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my brow darken'd as I breathed the threat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fierce in her shrinking ear, 'that wrath should reach him yet!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I left her speechless; when the morning came, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the fierce pang, writhed the self-tortured frame, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The poison hid by Woe, drain'd by despairing Shame. <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Few words, half-blurr'd by shame, the motive clear'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the false wooer, not herself, she feared;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Accept,' she wrote 'O brother, sternly just,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The life I yield,—but holy be my dust!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hear my last words, for, <i>them</i> Death sanctify!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forbear his life for whom it soothes to die.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 56]</span><span class="i0">And let my thought, the memory of old time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soul that flees the stain, nor knew the crime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strike down thine arm! and see me in the tomb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stand, like a ghost, between Revenge and Doom!'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"I bent, in agony and awe, above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The broken idol of my boyhood's love.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Echo'd each groan and writhed with every throe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cried, 'Live yet! O dove, but brood below,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hide with thy wings the vengeance and the guilt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And give my soul thy softness if thou wilt!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, as I spoke, the heavy eye unclosed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hand press'd mine, and in the clasp reposed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wan lip smiled, the weak frame seem'd to win<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strange power against the torture-fire within;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The leach's skill the heart's strong impulse sped,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She lived—she lived:—And my revenge was dead!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"She lived!—and, clasp'd within my arms, I vow'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To leave the secret in its thunder-shroud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To shun all question, to refuse all clue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And close each hope that honour deems its due;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>But while she lived!</i>—the weak vow halted there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her life the shield to that it tainted mine to spare!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"But to have walk'd into the thronging street,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But to have sought the haunt where babblers meet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But to have pluck'd one idler by the sleeve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And asked, '<i>who</i> woo'd yon fairhair'd bride, to leave?'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And street, and haunt, and every idler's tongue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had given the name with which the slander rung—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To me alone,—to <i>me</i> of all the throng,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The unnatural silence mask'd the face of wrong.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I had sworn! and, of myself in dread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the loath'd scene, from mine own wrath, I fled.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"We left the land, in this a home we find.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Home! by our hearth the cleaving curse is shrined!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Distrust in her—and shame in me; and all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The unspoken past cold present hours recal;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And unconfiding hearts, and smiles but rife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the bland hollowness of formal life!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vain my sacrifice, she fears me still!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vain her reprieve;—grief barr'd from vent can kill.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then, and then (O joy through agony!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My oath absolves me, and my arm is free!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lofty soul may oft forgive, I own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lighter wrong that smites itself alone;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 57]</span><span class="i0">But vile the nature, that when wrong hath marr'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the rich life it was our boast to guard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But weeps the broken heart and blasted name;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here the mean pardon were the manhood's shame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I were vilest of the vile, to live<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see Calantha's grave—and to forgive:<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Forgive!</i>"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">There hung such hate upon that word,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The weeping listener shudder'd as she heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sobb'd—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">"Hush, hush! lest Man's eternal Foe <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hear thee, and tempt! Oh, never may'st thou know <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside one deed of Guilt—how blest is guiltless Woe!" <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, close, and closer, clinging to his side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Frank as the child, and tender as the bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Words—looks—and tears themselves combine the balm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lull the fierce pang, and steal the soul to calm!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As holy herbs (that rocks with verdure wreathe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fill with sweets the summer air they breathe,)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In winter wither, only to reveal<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Diviner virtues—charged with powers to heal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So are the thoughts of Love!—if Heaven is fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blooms for the earth, and perfumes for the air;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is the Heaven dark?—doth sorrow sear the leaf?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They fade from joy to anodynes for grief!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From theme to theme she lures his thought afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the dark haunt in which its demons are;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with the gentle instinct which divines<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Interest more strong than aught which Self entwines<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With its own suffering—changed the course of tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And led him, child-like, through her own young years.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The silent sorrows of a patient mind—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grief's loveliest poem, a soft soul resign'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charm'd and aroused——<br /></span> +<span class="i8">"O tell me more!" he cried;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ev'n from the infant let me trace the bride.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of thy dear life I am a miser grown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And grudge each smile that did not gild my own;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look back—thy <i>Father?</i> Canst thou not recal<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>His</i> kiss, <i>his</i> voice? Fair orphan! tell me all."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"My Father? No!" sigh'd Lucy; "at that name<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still o'er my mother's cheek the fever came;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus, from the record of each earlier year,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That household tie moved less of love than fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some wild mysterious awe, some undefined<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Instinct of woe was with the name entwined.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 58]</span><span class="i0">Lived he?—I knew not; knew not till the last<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sad hours, when Memory struggled to the Past,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she—my dying mother—to my breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clasp'd these twain relics—let them speak the rest!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With that, for words no more she could command,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She placed a scroll—a portrait—in his hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And overcome by memories that could brook<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not ev'n love's comfort,—veil'd her troubled look,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And glided swiftly thence. Nor he detain'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spell bound, his gaze upon the portrait strain'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That brow—those features! that bright lip, which smiled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forth from the likeness!—Found Lord Arden's child!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The picture spoke as if from Mary's tomb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death in the smile and mockery in the bloom.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The scroll, unseal'd—address'd the obscurer name<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Arden bore, ere lands and lordship came;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And at the close, to which the Indian's eyes <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hurried, these words:— <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i8">"In peace thy Mary dies; <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forgive her sternness in her sacrifice! <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">It had one merit—<i>that I loved!</i> and till<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each pulse is hush'd shall love, yet fly, thee still.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now take thy child! and when she clings with pride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the strong shelter of a father's side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell her, a mother bought the priceless right<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bless unblushing her she gave to light;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bought it as those who would redeem a past<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must buy—by penance, faithful to the last.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thorns in each path, a grave the only goal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glides mine, atoning, to my father's soul!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">What at this swift revealment—dark and fast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As fleets the cloud-wrack, o'er the Indian past?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more is Lucy free with her sweet dower <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of love and youth! Another has the power <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bar the solemn rite, to blast the marriage bower. <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Will this proud Saxon of the princely line<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yield his heart's gem to alien hands like mine?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What though the blot denies his rank its heir: <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The more his pride will bid his love repair <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">By loftiest nuptials—O supreme despair! <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall I divulge the secret! shall I rear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Myself, the barrier,—and the bliss so near?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">He scorn'd himself, and raised his drooping crest:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Mine be Man's honour—leave to God the rest!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As thus his high resolve, a sudden cry <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Startled his heart. He turn'd: Calantha by! <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why on the portrait glares her haggard eye? <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 59]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Whose likeness this? Thou know'st not, brother? speak!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What mean that clouded brow—that changing cheek?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou know'st not!"<br /></span> +<span class="i6">"Yes!"<br /></span> +<span class="i10">And as the answer came,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Death's strong terror shook the sister's frame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A bitterer pang, an icier shudder, ran<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through <i>his</i> fierce nature—<br /></span> +<span class="i12">"Dost <i>thou</i> know the man?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ha! his own tale! O dull and blinded! how,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flash upon flash, descends the lightning now!<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Thou</i>, his forsaken—<i>his</i>! And I—who—nay!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look up Calantha; for, befal what may,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He shall——"<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The promise, or the threat, was said<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To ears already deafen'd as the dead!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His arm but breaks the fall: the panting breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet heaves convulsive through the stifling vest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The robe, relax'd, bids doubt—if doubt yet be—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Merge the last gleam in starless certainty!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo there, the fatal gift of love and woe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Miming without the image graved below—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The same each likeness by each sufferer worn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or differing but as noonday from the morn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Lucy's portrait, manhood's earliest youth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shone from the clear eye with a light like truth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, play'd that fearless smile with which we meet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sward that hides the swamp before our feet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bright on-looking to the Future, ere<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our sins reflect their own dark shadows there:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calantha's portrait spoke of one in whom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Young yet in years; the heart had lost its bloom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lip of joy the lip of pride had grown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It smiled—the smile we love to trust had flown.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the collected eye and lofty mien<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The graver power experience brings was seen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beautiful both; and if the manlier face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had lost youth's candid and luxuriant grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A charm as fatal as the first it wore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pleased less—and yet enchain'd and haunted more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">And this the man to whom his heart had moved!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose hand he had clasp'd, whose child he loved!—he loved!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This, out of all the universe—O Fate!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This, the dark orb, round which revolved his hate;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This, the swart star malign, whose baleful ray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ruled in his House of Life; and day by day,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 60]</span><span class="i0">And hour by hour, upon the tortured past<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One withering, ruthless, demon influence cast!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There writhes the victim—there, unmasking, now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The invoked Alecto frowns from Arden's brow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er that fierce nature, roused so late from sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Course the black thoughts, and lash to storm the deep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love flies dismay'd—the sweet delusions, drawn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Hope, fade ghost-like in the lurid dawn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As when along the parch'd Arabian gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life prostrate falls before the dread Simoom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No human mercy the strong whirlwind faced,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And its wrath reign'd sole monarch of the waste!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IV.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The Hours steal on. Like spectres, to and fro<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hurry hush'd footsteps through the house of woe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That nameless chill, which tells of life that dies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Broods o'er the chamber where Calantha lies.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The Hours steal on—and o'er the unquiet might<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the great Babel—reigns, dishallow'd, Night.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not, as o'er Nature's world, She comes, to keep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath the stars her solemn tryst with Sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When move the twin-born Genii side by side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And steal from earth its demons where they glide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lull'd the spent Toil—seal'd Sorrow's heavy eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dreams restore the dews of Paradise;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Night, discrown'd and sever'd from her twin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No pause for Travail, no repose for Sin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vex'd by one chafed rebellion to her sway,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flits o'er the lamp-lit streets—a phantom day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone sat Morvale in the House of Gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone—no! Death was in the darken'd room;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All hush'd save where, at distance faintly heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lucy's low sob the depth of silence stirr'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or where, without, the swift wheels hurrying by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bear those who live—as if life could not die.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone he sat! and in his breast began<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth's deadliest strife—the Angel with the Man!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not his the light war with its feeble rage<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which prudent scruples with faint passions wage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(The small heart-conflicts which disturb the wise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom reason succours when the anger tries,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such as to this meek social ring belong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In conscience weak, but in discretion strong;)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But that known only to man's franker state,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In love a demigod—a fiend in hate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Him, not the reason but the instincts lead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prompt in the impulse, ruthless in the deed.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 61]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">And if the wrong might seem too weak a cause<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the fell hate—not his were Europe's laws.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some think dishonour, if it halt at crime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A stingless asp,—what injury in the slime?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if but this poor clay—this crumbling coil<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of dust for graves—were all the foul can soil!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if the form were not the type (nor more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than the mere type) of what chaste souls adore!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Woman-Royalty, a spotless name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For sires to boast—for sons unborn to claim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That heavenly purity of thought—as free<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From shame as sin, the soul's virginity,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If these be lost—why what remains?—the form?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has <i>that</i> such worth?—Go, envy then the worm!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">And well to him may such belief belong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And India's memories blacken more the wrong;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Eastern lands, by tritest tales convey'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How Honour guards from sight itself the maid;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Home's solemn mystery, jealous of a breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Screen'd by religion, and begirt with death:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again he cower'd beneath the hissing tongue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again the gibe of scurril laughter rung,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again the Plague-breath air itself defiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Mockery grinn'd upon his mother's child!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the heart's chaste religion overthrown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And slander scrawl'd upon the altar-stone!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">And if that memory pause, what shapes succeed?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The martyr leaning on the broken reed!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The life slow-poison'd in the thoughts that shed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shame o'er the joyless earth;—and there, the dead!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Marvel not ye, the soft, the fair, the young,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose thoughts are chords to Love's sweet music strung,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose life the sterner genius—Hate, has spared,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If on his soul no torch but Atè's glared!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If in the foe was lost to sight the bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The foe's meek child!—that memory was denied!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The face, the tale, the sorrow, and the love, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">All fled—all blotted from the breast: Above <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Deluge not one refuge for the Dove! <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is no Lethé like one guilty dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It drowns all life that nears the leaden stream;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if the guilt seem sacred to the creed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between the stars and earth, but stands the Deed!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So in his breast the Titan feud began:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which shall prevail—the Angel or the Man?<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 62]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The Injurer comes! the lone light breaking o'er <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gloom, waves flickering to the open door, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Arden's step is on the fatal floor! <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Around he gazed, and hush'd his breath,—for Fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cast its own shadow on the wall,—a drear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ominous prescience of the Death-king there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breathed its chill horror to the heavy air;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er yon recess—which bars with draperied pall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The baffled gaze—the unbroken shadows fall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lurid embers on the hearth burn low;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The clicking time-piece sounds distinct and slow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the roused instinct hate's suspense foreshows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the pale Indian's lock'd and grim repose.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">So Arden enter'd, and thus spoke; the while<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His restless eye belied his ready smile:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Return'd, I find thy mandate, and attend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hear a mystery, or to serve a friend."<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Or front a foe!"<br /></span> +<span class="i8">A stifled voice replied.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er Arden's temples flush'd the knightly pride.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"What means that word, which jars, not daunts, the ear?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I own no foe,—if foe there be, no fear."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Pause and take heed—then with as firm a sound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Disdain the danger—when the foe is found!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What, if thou had'st a sister, whom the grave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To thy sole charge—a sacred orphan—gave—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What, if a traitor had, with mocking vows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Won the warm heart, and woo'd the plighted spouse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then left—a scoff;—what, if his evil fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone sufficed to blast the virgin name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What—hourly gazing on a life forlorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amidst a solitude wall'd round with scorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shame at the core—death gnawing at the cheek—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What, from the suitor, would the brother seek?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Wert <i>thou</i> that brother," with unsteady voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arden replied: "not doubtful were thy choice:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were I that Suitor——"<br /></span> +<span class="i10">"Ay?"<br /></span> +<span class="i12">"I would prepare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To front the vengeance, or—the wrong repair."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Yes"—hiss'd the Indian—"front that mimic strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That coward's die, which leaves to chance the life;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That mockery of all justice, framed to cheat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Right of its due—such vengeance thou wouldst meet!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be Europe's justice blind and insecure!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stern Ind asks more—her son's revenge is sure!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 63]</span><span class="i0">'Repair the wrong!'—Ay, in the Grave be wed!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hark! the Ghost calls thee to the bridal bed!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come (nay, this once thy hand!)—come!—from the shrine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I draw the veil!—Calantha, he is thine!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man, see thy victim!—dust!—Joy—Peace and Fame, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>These</i> murder'd first—the blow that smote the frame <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was the most merciful!—at length it came. <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, by the corpse to which thy steps are led,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside thee, murderer, stands the brother of the Dead!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Brave was Lord Arden—brave as ever be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thor's northern sons—the Island Chivalry;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in that hour strange terror froze his blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those fierce eyes mark'd him shiver as he stood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But oh! more awful than the living foe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That frown'd beside—the Dead that smiled below!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That smile which greets the shadow-peopled shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which says to Sorrow—"Thou canst wound no more!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which says to Love that would rejoin—"Await!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which says to Wrong that would redeem—"Too late!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That lingering halo of our closing skies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cold with the sunset never more to rise!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Though his gay conscience many a heavier crime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than this had borne, and drifted off to Time;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though this but sport with a fond heart which Fate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had given to master, but denied to mate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet seem'd it as in that least sin arose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shapes of all that Memory's deeps disclose;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The general phantom of a life whose waste<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had spoil'd each bloom by which its path was traced,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sporting at will, and moulding sport to art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With that sad holiness—the Human Heart!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon his lip the vain excuses died,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vain his manhood struggled for its pride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up from the dead, with one convulsive throe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He turn'd his gaze, and voiceless faced his foe:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still, as if changed by horror into stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He saw those eyes glare doom upon his own;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saw that remorseless hand glide sternly slow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the bright steel the robe half hid below,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Near, and more near, he felt the fiery breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breathe on his cheek; the air was hot with death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet he sought nor flight—nor strove for prayer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As one chance-led into a lion's lair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who sees his fate, nor deems submission shame,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unarm'd to combat, and unskill'd to tame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What could this social world afford its child,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against the roused Nemæan of the wild!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 64]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">A lifted arm—a gleaming steel—a cry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of savage vengeance!—swiftly—suddenly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As through two clouds a star—on the dread time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shone forth an angel face and check'd the startled crime!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She stood, the maiden guest, the plighted bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The victim's daughter, by the madman's side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her airy clasp upon the murtherous arm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her pure eyes chaining with a solemn charm:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like some blest thought of mercy, on a soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brooding on blood—the holy Image stole!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, as a maniac in his fellest hour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lull'd by a look whose calmness is its power,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Backward the Indian quail'd—and dropp'd the blade!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see the foeman kneeling to the maid;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As with new awe and wilder, Arden cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Out from the grave, O com'st thou, injured bride!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then with a bound he reach'd the Indian—<br /></span> +<span class="i16">"Lo!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I tempt thy fury, and invite thy blow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, by man's rights o'er men,—oh, speak! whose eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ope, on life's brink, my youth's lost paradise?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The same—the same—(look, look!)—the same—lip, brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Form, aspect,—all and each—fresh, fair as now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bloom'd my heart's bride!"—<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Silent the Indian heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor seem'd to feel the grasp, nor heed the word!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As when some storm-beat argosy glides free<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From its vain wrath,—subsides a baffled sea,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His heaving breast calm'd back—the tempest fell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the smooth surface veil'd the inward hell.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet his eye, resting on the wondering maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Somewhat of woe, perchance remorse, betray'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And grew to doubtful trouble—as it saw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her aspect brightening slowly from its awe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gazing on Arden till shone out commix'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doubt, hope, and joy, in the sweet eyes thus fix'd;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till on her memory all the portrait smil'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And voice came forth, "O Father, bless thy child!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">As from the rock the bright wave leaps to day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mighty instinct forced its living way:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No need of further words;—all clear—all told;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A father's arms the happy child enfold:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nature alone was audible!—and air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stirr'd with the gush of tears, and gasps of murmur'd prayer!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Motionless stands the Indian; on his breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As one the death-shaft pierces, droops his crest;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 65]</span><span class="i0">His hands are clasp'd—one moment the sharp thrill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shakes his strong limbs;—then all once more is still;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And form and aspect the firm calmness take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which clothes his kindred savage at the stake.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So—as she turn'd her looks—the woe behind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That quiet mask, the girl's quick heart divined,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Father!" she cried—"Not all, not all on me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lavish thy blessings!—Him, who saved me, see!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Him who from want—from famine—from a doom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Frowning with terrors darker than the tomb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Preserved thy child!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Before the Indian's feet <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">She fell, and murmur'd—"Bliss is incomplete <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unless thy heart can share—thy lips can greet!" <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again the firm frame quiver'd;—roused again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bruisëd eagle struggled from the chain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till words found way, and with the effort grew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man's crowning strength—Man's evil to subdue.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Foeman—'tis past!—lo, in the strife between<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy world and mine, the eternal victory seen!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou, with light arts, my realm hast overthrown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, see, revenge but threats to bless thine own!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My home is desolate—my hearth a grave—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Heaven one hour that seem'd like justice gave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The arm is raised, the sacrifice prepared—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The altar kindles, and the victim's—spared!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Free as before to smite and to destroy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou com'st to slaughter to depart in joy!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"From the wayside yon drooping flower I bore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Warm'd at my heart—its root grew to the core,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dear as its kindred bloom seen through the bar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By some long-thrall'd, and loneliest prisoner—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now comes the garden's Lord, transplants the flower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And spoils the dungeon to enrich the bower?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"So be it, law—and the world's rights are thine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lost the stern comfort, Nature's law and mine!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She calls thee 'Father,' and the long deferr'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long-look'd for vengeance, withers at the word!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take back thy child! Earth's gods to thee belong! <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To me the iron of the sense of wrong <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaven makes the heart which Earth oppresses—strong!" <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Not so,—not so we part! O <i>husband</i>!" cried<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Girl's full soul—"Divorce not thus thy bride!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes, Father, yes!—in woe thy Lucy won<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This generous heart; shall joy not leave us one?"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 66]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">A moment Arden paused in mute surprise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(How charm'd that outcast Beauty's blinded eyes?)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, with the impulse of the human thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prompt to atonement for the evil wrought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Hear her!" he said—"her words her father's heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Echoes.—Not so—nor ever, may ye part!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nobly, hast thou an elder right than mine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Won to this treasure;—still its care be thine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Withhold thy pardon if thou wilt,—but take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The holiest offering wrong to man can make!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Slowly the Indian lifts his joyless head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pointing with slow hand to the present dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from slow lips comes heavily the breath:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Behold, between us evermore—is Death!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Maiden, recal my tale;—thou clasp'st the hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which shuts the Exile from the promised land;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can the dead victim's brother, undefiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From him who slew the sister take the child!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With that, he bent him o'er the shuddering maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On her fair looks a solemn hand he laid;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lifted eyes, tearless still—but dark with all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cloud, that not in <i>such</i> soft dews can fall:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"If to the Dead an offering still must be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All vengeance calls for be fulfill'd in me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I make myself the victim!—Thou dread Power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Guiding to guilt the slow chastising hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far from the injurer's hearth by her made pure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let this lone roof thy thunder-stroke allure!—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Go hence—(nay, near me not!) behold!—the kind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oblivion closes round her darken'd mind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If, when she wake, it be awhile for grief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon dries the rain-drop on the April leaf!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">He said, and vanish'd, with a noiseless tread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within the folds which curtain'd round the dead!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, the stern Dervish of the East inters<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His sullen soul with Death in sepulchres!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">His new-found prize, while yet th' unconscious sense<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sleeps in the mercy of the brief suspense,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With gliding feet, the Father steals away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grief bends alone above the lonely clay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But over grief and death th' Eternal Eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shines down,—and Hope lives ever in the sky.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 67]</span></p> +<h3>PART THE FOURTH.</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>I.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To Joy's brisk ear there's music in the throng;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glorious the life of cities to the strong!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What myriad charms, all differing, smile for all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hardier Masks in the Great Carnival!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amidst the vast disguise, some sign betrays<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To each the appointed pleasure in the maze;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ambition, pleasure, love, applause, and gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Allure the young, and baby<a name="FNanchor_A_19" id="FNanchor_A_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_19" class="fnanchor">[S]</a> yet the old.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For here, the old, if nerves and stubborn will<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Defy Experience, linger, youthful still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haunt the same rounds of idlesse, or of toil<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That lure the freshest footsteps to the soil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still sway the Fashion or control the State,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gay at the ball, or fierce at the debate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is not youth, it is the zest of life <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Surviving youth—in age itself as rife, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That fits the Babel and enjoys the strife; <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But not for you <i>our</i> world's bright tumults are,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft natures, born beneath the Hesperus star,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To us, the storm is but the native breath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To you, the quickening of the gale is death;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leave Strife to battle with its changeful clime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And seek the peace which saves the weak, in time!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not Man's but Nature's world be yours!—The shade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where, all unseen, the cushat's nest is made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Less lone to you than pomps which but bestow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tinkling cymbal and the painted show.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The lights of revel flash from Arden's halls;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, throng the shapes that troop where Comus calls;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But not Sabrina more apart and lone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the loud joy, on her pure coral throne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than thou, sad maiden!—round the holy tide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swell the gay notes, the airy dancers glide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But o'er the shadowy grot the waters roll,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shut the revel from the unconscious soul!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">What rank has noblest, manhood's grace most fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bend low to her now hail'd as Arden's heir?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If rumour doubts the birthright to his name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The father's wealth redeems the mother's shame;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 68]</span><span class="i0">And kindly thoughts o'er lordly pride prevail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The Earl's best lands are not in the entail!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">How Arden loved his child!—how spoke that love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of those dead worlds the light herb waves above;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Layer upon layer—those strata of the past,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those gone creations buried in the last!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their bloom, their life, their glory past away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speak in this relic of a vanish'd day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, in that guileless face, revived anew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The visions glistening through life's morning dew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair Hope, pure Honour, undefilëd Truth—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The young shape stood before him as his youth!<a name="FNanchor_B_20" id="FNanchor_B_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_20" class="fnanchor">[T]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in this love his chastisement was found—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The thorns he had planted, here enclosed him round;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He, whom to see had been to love,—in vain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here loved; that heart no answer gave again—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It lived upon the past,—it dwelt afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This new-found bond from what it loved the bar.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her conscience chid, yet, while it chid, her thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still the cold past, to freeze the present, brought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How love the sire round whom such shadows throng,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mother's death-bed and the lover's wrong?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dazzling gifts, which had through life beguiled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All other souls, are powerless with his child.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vain the melodious tongue, and vain the mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sparkling and free as wavelets in the wind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The roseate wreath the handmaid Graces twine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round sternest hearts,—soft infant, breaks on thine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Child, candid, simple, frank, to her allied,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far more, the nature sever'd from her side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With its fresh instincts and wild verdure, fann'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By fragrant winds, from haunted Fable-land;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than all the garden graces which betray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the bough's riches the worn tree's decay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What charms the ear of Childhood?—not the page<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of that romance which wins the sober sage;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not the dark truths, like warning ghosts, which pass<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the pilgrim path of <i>Rasselas</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not wit's wrought crystal which, so coldly clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reflects, in <i>Zadig</i>, learning's icy sneer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unreasoning, wondering, stronger far the thrall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Aimée's cave,<a name="FNanchor_C_21" id="FNanchor_C_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_21" class="fnanchor">[U]</a> or young Aladdin's hall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so the childhood of the heart will find <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charms in the poem of a child-like mind, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To which the vision of the world is blind! <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 69]</span><span class="i0">Ev'n as the savage, 'midst the desert's gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sees, hid from us, the golden fruitage bloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, where the arid silence wraps us all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lists the soft lapse of the glad waterfall!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">So Lucy loved not Arden!—vainly yearn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His moisten'd eyes;—Can softness be so stern?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That soul how gentle! but that smile how cold!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A marble shape the parent arms enfold!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No hurrying footstep bounds his own to meet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No joyous smiles with morning's welcome greet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not him that heart—so bless'd with love—can bless, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lost the pure Eden of a child's caress; <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He saw—he felt, and suffer'd powerless! <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remorse seized on him;—his gay spirit quail'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cloud crept on,—it gather'd, it prevail'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spectre of the past—the martyr bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sat at his board, and glided by his side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sigh'd, "With the dead, Love the Consoler dies,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And spoke his sentence in his child's cold eyes!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now a strange and strong desire was born, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the young instinct of life's credulous morn, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In that long sceptic-breast, so world-corrupt and worn. <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">From the rank soil in which grim London shrouds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her dead,—the green halls of the ghastly crowds—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bear his Mary's dust; the dust to lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the clear rill, beside her father's clay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amidst those scenes which saw the rapture-strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And growth of passion—life's sweet storm of life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Consign the silent pulse, the mouldering heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deaf to the joy to meet—the woe to part;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rounding and binding there as into one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sad page, the tale of all beneath the sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there, before that grave—beneath the beam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the lone stars, and by that starlit stream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To lead the pledge of the fresh morn of love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And while the pardoning skies seem'd soft above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Murmur, "For her sake, her, who, reconciled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hears us in heaven, give me thy heart, my child!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But first—before his conscious soul could dare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the consoling balm to pour the prayer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Alone</i> the shadows of the past to brave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone to commune with the accusing grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shrive repentance of its haunting gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before Life's true Confessional—the Tomb;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such made his dream!—Oh! not in vain the creed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of old that knit atonement with the dead!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The penitent offering, the lustrating tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wandering, haunted, hopeful homicide,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 70]</span><span class="i0">Who sees the spot to which the furies urge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where halt the hell-hounds, and where drops the scourge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the appeased Manes pitying sigh—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Thou hast atoned! once more enjoy the sky!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Such made the dream he rushes to fulfil!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round the new mound babbled the living rill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A name, the name that Arden's wife should bear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sculptured the late and vain repentance there.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er the same bridge which once to rapture led,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Went the same steps their pathway to the dead:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Night after night the same lone shadow gave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A tremulous darkness to the hurrying wave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lost,—and then, lengthening from the neighbouring yews,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dimm'd the wan shimmer of the moonlit dews,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then gain'd a grave;—and from the mound was thrown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still as the shadow of yon funeral stone!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>II.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Meanwhile to Morvale!—Sorrow, like the wind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through trees, stirs varying o'er each human mind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Uprooting some, from some it doth but strew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blossom and leaf, which spring restores anew;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From some, but shakes rich powers unknown in calm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wakes the trouble to extract the balm.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let weaker natures suffer and despair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great souls snatch vigour from the stormy air;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grief not the languor,—Grief the action brings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And clouds the horizon but to nerve the wings.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Up from his heavy thought, one dawning day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Indian, silent, rose, and went his way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Palace and pomp and wealth and ease resign'd, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">As one new-born, he plunged amidst his kind, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whither, with what intent, he scarce divined. <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He turn'd to see, through mists obscure and dun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The domes and spires of the vex'd Babylon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before him smiled the mead and waved the corn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Nature's music swell'd the hymns of Morn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sense of freedom, of the large escape<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the pent walls our customs round us shape;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The imperfect sympathies which curse the few,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who ne'er the chase the many join pursue;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The trite convention, with its cold control,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which thralls the habit, yet not links the soul;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—The sense of freedom pass'd into his breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But found no hope it flatter'd and caress'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So the sad captive, when at length made free,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrinks from the sunlight he had pined to see;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 71]</span><span class="i0">Feels on the limb the custom of the chain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each step a struggle and each breath a pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And knows—return'd unto the world too late,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No smile shall greet him at his lonely gate;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seal'd every eye, of old that watch'd and wept;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The world he knew has vanish'd while he slept!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">He wander'd on, alone, on foot,—alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As in the waste his earlier steps had known.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forth went the peasant—Adam's curse begun;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Home went the peasant in the western sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He heard the bleating fold, the lowing herd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The last shrill carol of the nestling bird!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He saw the rare lights of the hamlet gleam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fade;—the stars grow stiller on the stream;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swart, by the woodland, cower'd the gipsy tent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence peer'd dark eyes that watch'd him as he went—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He paused and turn'd:—Him more the outlaws charm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than the trim hostel and the happy farm.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strangers, like him, from antique lands afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aliens untamed where'er their wanderings are,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High Syrian sires of old;<a name="FNanchor_D_22" id="FNanchor_D_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_22" class="fnanchor">[V]</a>—dark fragments torn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the great creed of Isis,—now forlorn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In rags—all earth their foe, and day by day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Worn in the strife with social Jove away—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wretched, 'tis true, yet less enslaved, their strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than our false peace with all this masque of life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Convention's lies,—the league with Custom made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The crimes of glory, and the frauds of trade.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rest and rude food the lawless Nomads yield;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dews rise ghost-like from the whitening field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ghost-like on the wanderer glides the sleep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through which the phantom Dreams their witching Sabbat keep!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">At dawn, while yet, around the Indian, lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dark, fantastic groups,—resumed the way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before his steps the landscape spreads more free<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fresh from man;—ev'n as a broadening sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, more and more the harbour left behind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lone sail drifts before the strengthening wind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold the sun!—how stately from the East,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright from God's presence, comes the glorious Priest!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deck'd as beseems the Mighty One to whom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaven gives the charge to hallow and illume!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How, as he comes,—through the Great Temple, <span class="smcap">Earth</span>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peels the rich Jubilee of grateful mirth!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 72]</span><span class="i0">The infant flowers their odour-censers swinging,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through aislëd glades Air's Anthem-Chorus ringing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While, like some soul lifted aloft by love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High and alone the sky-lark halts above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High, o'er the sparkling dews, the glittering corn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hymns his frank happiness and hails the morn!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">He stands upon the green hill's lighted brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sees the world at smiling peace below,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hamlet and farm, and thy best type, Desire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the sad Heart,—the heaven-ascending spire!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">He stood and mused, and thus his musing ran:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"How strong, how feeble, is thine art, O Man!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou coverest Earth with wonders—at thy hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Curbs the meek water, blooms the subject land:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why halts thy magic here?—Why only deck'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth's sterile surface, mournful Architect?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why art thou powerless o'er the world within?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why raise the Eden, yet retain the sin?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why, while the earth, thou but enjoy'st an hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proclaims thy splendour and attests thy power,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why o'er the spirit does thy sorcery cease?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo the sweet landscape round thee lull'd in peace!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why wakes each heart to sorrow, care, and strife?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why with yon temple so at war the life?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why all so slight the variance, or in grief<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or guilt,—the sum of suffering and relief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between the desert's son whose wild content<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Redeems no waste, enthralls no element,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ye the Magians?—ye the giant birth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Lore and Science—Brahmins of the Earth?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold the calm steer drinking in the stream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold the glad bird glancing in the beam.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say, know ye pleasure,—ye, the Eternal Heirs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of stars and spheres—life's calm content, like theirs?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your stores enrich, your powers exalt, the few,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And curse the millions wealth and power subdue;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ev'n the few!—what lord of luxury knows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The joy in strife, the sweetness in repose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which bless the houseless Arab?—Still behind <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ease waits Disgust, and with the falling wind <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Droop the dull sails ordain'd to speed the mind. <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Increasing wants the sum of care increase,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The piled-up knowledge but sepulchres peace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye quell the instincts, the free love, frank hate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bid hard Reason hold the scales of Fate—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What is your gain?—from each slain instinct springs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hydra passion, poisoning while it stings;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 73]</span><span class="i0">Free love, foul lust;—the frank hate's manly strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A plotting mask'd dissimulating life;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Truth flies the world—one falsehood taints the sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each form a phantom, and each word a lie!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Yet what am I?—the crush'd and baffled foe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who dared the strife, yet would denounce the blow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What arms had I against this world to wield?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What mail the naked savage heart to shield?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To this hoar world I brought the trusts of youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Warm zeal for men, and fix'd repose in truth—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amongst the young I look'd for young desires,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love which adores, and Honour which aspires—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amongst the old, for souls set free from all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The earthlier chains which young desires enthrall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Serene and gentle both to soothe and chide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sires to pity, yet the seers to guide—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lo! this civilised and boasted plan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This order'd ring and harmony of man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One hideous, cynic, levelling orgy, where<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Youth Age's ice, and Age Youth's fever share—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The unwrinkled brow, the calculating brain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The passion balanced with the weights of gain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Age more hotly clutching than the boy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the lewd bauble and the gilded toy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Why should I murmur?—why accuse the strong?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I own Earth's law—the conquer'd are the wrong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Am I ambitious?—in this world I stand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Closed from the race, an Alien in the land.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dare I to love?—O soul, O heart, forget<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That dream, that frenzy!—what is left me yet?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Revenge!"—His dark eyes flash'd—yet straightway died<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The passionate lightning—"No!—revenge denied!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the wild man in the tame slave is dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The currents stagnate in the girded bed!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back to my desert!—yet, O sorcerer's draught,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O smooth false world,—what soul that once has quaff'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Renounces not the ancient manliness?<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Now</i>, could the Desert the charm'd victim bless?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can the caged bird, escaped from bondage, share<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As erst the freedom of the hardy air?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can the poor peasant, lured by Wealth's caprice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To marts and domes, find the old native peace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the old hut?—on-rushing is the mind:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It ne'er looks back on what it leaves behind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once cut the cable and unfurl the sail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And spreads the boundless sea, and drifts the hurrying gale!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 74]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Come then, my Soul, thy thoughts thy desert be!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy dreams thy comrades!—I escape to thee!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within, the gates unbar, the airs expand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No bound but Heaven confines the Spirit's Land!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such luxury yet as what of Nature lives<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Art's lone wreck, the lingering instinct gives;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joy in the sun, and mystery in the star,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light of the Unseen, commune with the Far;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man's law,—his fellow, ev'n in scorn, to save,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hope in some just World beyond the Grave!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">So went he on, and day succeeds to day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Untired the step, though purposeless the way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At night his pause was at the lowliest door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The beggar'd heart makes brothers of the Poor;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They who most writhe beneath Man's social wrong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But love the feeble when they hate the strong.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laud not to me the optimists who call<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each knave a brother—Parasites of all—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Praise not as genial his indifferent eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who lips the cant of mock philanthropy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He who loathes ill must more than half which lies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In this ill world with generous scorn despise;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet of the wrong he hates, the grief he shares,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His lip rebuke, his soul compassion, wears;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Hermit's wrath bespeaks the Preacher's hope<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who loves men most—men call the Misanthrope!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">At times with honest toil reposed—at times<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where gnawing wants beset despairing crimes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both still betray'd the sojourn of his soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here wise to cheer, there fearless to control.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His that strange power the Church's Fathers had<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To awe the fierce and to console the sad;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For he, like them, had sinn'd;—like them had known<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life's wild extremes;—their trials were his own!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were we as rich in charity of deed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As gold—what rock would bloom not with the seed?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We give our alms, and cry—"What can we more?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One hour of time were worth a load of ore!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give to the ignorant our own wisdom!—give<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sorrow our comfort,—lend to those who live<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In crime, the counsels of our virtue,—share<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With souls our souls, and Satan shall despair!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas, what converts one man, who would take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cross and staff, and house with Guilt, could make!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Still, in his breast, 'midst much that well might shame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The virtues Christians in themselves proclaim,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 75]</span><span class="i0">There dwelt the Ancient Heathen;—still as strong<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doubts in Heaven's justice,—curses for man's wrong.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Revenge, denied indeed, still rankled deep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In thought—and dimm'd the day, and marr'd the sleep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there were hours when from the hell within<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faded the angel that had saved from sin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the fell Fury, beckoning through the gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cried "Life for life—thou hast betray'd the tomb!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the grim Honour of the ancient time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deem'd vengeance duty and forgiveness crime;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the stern soul fanatic conscience scared,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For blood <i>not</i> shed, and injury weakly spared;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Woe, if in hours like these, O more than woe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had the roused tiger met the pardon'd foe!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Nor when his instinct of the life afar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soar'd from the soil and task'd the unanswering star,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came more than <i>Hope</i>—that reflex-beam of Faith—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That fitful moonlight on the unknown path;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And not the glory of the joyous sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That fills with light whate'er it shines upon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From which the smiles of God as brightly fall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the lone charnel as the festive hall!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Now Autumn closes on the fading year,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The chill wind moaneth through the woodlands sere;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At morn the mists lie mournful on the hill,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hum of summer's populace is still!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hush'd the rife herbage, mute the choral tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blithe cicala, and the murmuring bee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The plashing reed, the furrow on the glass<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the calm wave, as by the bank you pass<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scaring the lazy trout,—delight no more;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The god of fields is dead—Pan's lusty reign is o'er!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Solemn and earnest—yet to holier eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not void of glory, arch the sober'd skies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above the serious earth!—The changes wrought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Type our own change from passion into thought.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What though our path at every step is strewn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With leaves that shadow'd in the summer noon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the clear space more vigorous comes the air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the star pierces where the branch is bare.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What though the birds desert the chiller light;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To brighter climes the wiser speed their flight.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So happy Souls at will expand the wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, trusting Heaven, re-settle into Spring.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">An old man sat beneath the yellowing beech,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vow'd to the Cross, and wise the Word to teach.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 76]</span><span class="i0">A patriarch priest, from earth's worst tempters pure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gold and Ambition!—sainted and obscure!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before his knee (the Gospel in his hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sunshine at his heart), a youthful listener stands!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The old man spoke of Christ—of Him who bore <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our form, our woes;—that man might evermore <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In succouring woe-worn man, the God, made Man, adore! <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My child," he said, "in the far-heathen days,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hope was a dream, Belief an endless maze;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wise perplex'd, yet still with glimpse sublime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of ports dim-looming o'er the seas of Time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Guess'd <span class="smcap">Him</span> unworshipp'd yet—the Power above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or Dorian Phœbus, or Pelasgic Jove!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Guess'd the far realm, not won by Charon's oar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not the pale joys the brave who gain abhor;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No cold Elysium where the very Blest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Envy the living and deplore the rest;<a name="FNanchor_E_23" id="FNanchor_E_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_23" class="fnanchor">[W]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where ev'n the spirit, as the form, a ghost,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dreams back life's conflicts on the shadowy coast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hears but the clashing steel, the armëd train,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And waves the airy spear, and murders hosts again!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More just the prescience of the eternal goal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which gleam'd 'mid Cyprian shades, on Zeno's soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or shone to Plato in the lonely cave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God in all space, and life in every grave!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wise lore and high,—but for the <i>few</i> conceived;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By schools discuss'd, but not by crowds believed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The angel-ladder touch'd the heavenly steep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But at its foot the patriarchs did but sleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They did not preach to nations 'Lo your God;'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No thousands follow'd where their footsteps trod;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not to the fisherman they said 'Arise!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not to the lowly they reveal'd the skies;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aloof and lone their shining course they ran<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like stars too high to gild the world of man:<a name="FNanchor_F_24" id="FNanchor_F_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_F_24" class="fnanchor">[X]</a><br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 77]</span><span class="i0">Then, not for schools—but for the human kind—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The uncultured reason, the unletter'd mind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The poor, the oppress'd, the labourer, and the slave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God said, 'Be light!'—And light was on the Grave!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more alone to sage and hero given,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ope for all life the impartial Gates of Heaven!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enough hath Wisdom dream'd, and Reason err'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All they would seek is found!—O'er Nature sleeps the Word!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Thou ask'st why Christ, so lenient to the <i>deed</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So sternly claims the <i>faith</i> which founds the creed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because, reposed in faith the soul has calm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hope a haven, and the wound a balm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because the light, dim seen in Reason's Dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On all alike, through faith alone, could stream.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God will'd support to Weakness, joy to Grief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so descended from his throne—<span class="smcap">Belief</span>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor this alone—Have faith in things above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The unseen Beautiful of Heavenly Love;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from that faith what virtues have their birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What spiritual meanings gird, like air, the Earth!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A deeper thought inspires the musing sage!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To youth what visions—what delights to age!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A loftier genius wakens in the world,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To starrier heights more vigorous wings unfurl'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more the outward senses reign alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soul of Nature glides into our own.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To reason less is to imagine more;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They most aspire who meekly most adore!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Therefore the God-like Comforter's decree—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'His sins be loosen'd who hath faith in me.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Therefore he shunn'd the cavils of the wise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And made no schools the threshold of the skies:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Therefore he taught no Pharisee to preach<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His Word—the simple let the simple teach.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the infant on his knee he smiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And said to Wisdom, 'Be once more a child!'"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The boughs behind the old man gently stirr'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By one unseen those Gospel accents heard;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before the preacher bow'd the pilgrim's head:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Heaven to this bourne my rescued steps hath led,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grieving, perplex'd—benighted, yet with dim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hopes in God's justice,—be my guide to Him!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vain made man, I mourn and err!—restore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Childhood's pure soul, and ready trust, once more!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The old man on the stranger gazed;—unto<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stranger's side the young disciple drew,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 78]</span><span class="i0">And gently clasp'd his hand;—and on the three<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The western sun shone still and smilingly;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, round—behind them—dark and lengthening lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The massive shadow of the closing day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"See," said the preacher, "Darkness hurries on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Man, toil-wearied, grieves not for the Sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He knows the light that leaves him shall return,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hails the night because he trusts the morn!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Believe in God as in the Sun,—and, lo!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along thy soul, morn's youth restored shall glow!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As rests the earth, so rest, O troubled heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rest, till the burthen of the cloud depart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rest, till the gradual veil, from Heaven withdrawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Renews thy freshness as it yields the dawn!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Behold the storm-beat wanderer in repose!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He lists the sounds at which the Heavens unclose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gleam, through expanding bars, the angel-wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And floats the music borne from seraph-strings.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Holy the oldest creed which Nature gives,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proclaiming God where'er Creation lives;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But <i>there</i> the doubt will come!—the clear design<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Attests the Maker and suggests the Shrine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in that visible harmonious plan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What present shows the <i>future</i> world to man?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What lore detects, beneath our crumbling clay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A soul exiled, and journeying back to day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What knowledge, in the bones of charnel urns,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The etherial spark, the undying thought, discerns?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How from the universal war, the prey<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of life on life, can love explore the way?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Search the material tribes of earth, sea, air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the fierce <span class="smcap">Self</span> that strives and slays is there.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What but that <span class="smcap">Self</span> to Man doth Nature teach?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the charm'd link that binds the all to each?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the sweet Law—(doth Nature boast its birth)—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Good will to man, and charity to earth?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not in the world without, but that within,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reveal'd, not instinct—soul from sense can win!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And where the Natural halts, where cramp'd, confined,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The seen horizon bounds the baffled mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Inspired begins—the onward march is given;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bridging all space, nor ending ev'n in Heaven!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, veil'd on earth, we mark divinely clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Duty and end—the There explains the Here!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We see the link that binds the future band,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Foeman with foeman gliding hand in hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And feel that Hate is but an hour's—the son<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of earth, to perish when the earth is done—<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 79]</span><span class="i0">But Love eternal; and we turn below,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hail the brother where we loathed the foe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, in the soft and beautiful Belief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flows the true Lethé for the lips of Grief;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, Penury, Hunger, Misery, cast their eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How soon the bright Republic of the Skies!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, Love, heart-broken, sees prepared the bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hears the bridal step, and waits the nuptial hour!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, smiles the mother we have wept! there bloom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again the buds asleep within the tomb;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, souls regain what hearts had lost before<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In that fix'd moment call'd the—Evermore!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Refresh'd in that soft baptism, and reborn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Indian woke, and on the world was morn!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All things seem'd new—rose-colour'd in the skies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shone the hoar peaks of the old memories;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more enshrouded with unbroken gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calantha's injured name and early tomb—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more with woe (how ill-suppress'd by pride!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thought sounds the gulf that parts the promised bride!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faithful no less to Death, and true to Love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This blooms again—that shall rejoin, above!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Stoic courage had the wound conceal'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Christian hope the wound's sharp torture heal'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As rude the waste, but now before him shone <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The star;—he rose, and cheerful journey'd on, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full of the God most with us when alone! <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>III.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">'Tis night,—a night by fits now foul, now fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As speed the cloud-wracks through the gusty air:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At times the wild blast dies—and high and far,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through chasms of cloud, looks down the solemn star—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or the majestic moon;—so watchfires mark<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some sleeping War dim-tented in the dark;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or so, through antique Chaos and the storm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Matter, whirl'd and writhing into form,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale angels peer'd!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Anon, from brief repose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The winds leap forth, the cloven deeps reclose;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mass upon mass, the hurtling vapours driven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As one huge blackness walls the earth from heaven!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In one of these brief lulls—you see, serene,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The village church spire 'mid its mounds of green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The scattered roof-tops of the hamlet round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the swoll'n rill that girds the holy ground.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 80]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">A plank that rock'd above the rushing wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dizzy pathway to a wanderer gave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, as he paused, from the lone churchyard, slow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Emerged a form the wanderer's eyes should know!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It gains the opposing margent of the stream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full on the face shines calm the crescent beam;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It halts upon the bridge! Now, Indian, learn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If in thy soul the heathen yet can yearn!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift runs the wave, the instinct and the hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lonely night, when evil thoughts have power,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The foe before thee, and no things that live<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To witness vengeance—Canst thou still forgive?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scarce seen by each the face of each—when, deep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er the lost moon, the cloud's loud surges sweep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, as a sea devours the fated bark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vanish'd the heaven, and closed the abyss of dark!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You heard the roaring of the mighty blast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The groaning trees uprooted as it pass'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wrath and madness of the starless rill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swell'd by each torrent rushing from the hill.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The slight plank creaks—high mount the waves and high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hark! with the tempest's shrieks the human cry!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the bridge but <i>one</i> man now!—below,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The night of waters and the drowning foe!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Indian heard the death-cry and the fall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still o'er the wild scene hung the funeral pall!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What eye can pierce the darkness of the wave? <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">What hand guide rescue through the roaring grave? <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not for such craven questions pause the brave! <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again the moon!—again the churchyard's green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spire, hamlet, mead, and rill distinct are seen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But on the bridge <i>no</i> form, no life! The beam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shoots wan and broken on the tortured stream;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vague, indistinct, what yonder moveth o'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The troubled tide, and struggles to the shore?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hark, where the sere bough of the tossing tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Snaps in the grasp of some strong agony,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the dull plunge, and stifled cry betray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the grim water-fiend reclasps his prey!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Still shines the moon—still halts the panting storm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It moves again—the shadow shapes to form,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo! where yon bank shelves gradual, and the ray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silvers the reed, it cleaves its vigorous way!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saved from the deep, but happier far to save,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The foeman wrests the foeman from the grave!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still shines the moon—still halts the storm!—above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His sons, looks down divine the Father-Love!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 81]</span><span class="i0">Upon the Indian's breast droops Arden's head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its marble beauty rigid as the dead.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What skill so fondly tends the soul's eclipse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chafes the stiff limb, and breathes in breathless lips?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wooes back the flickering life, and when, once more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ebbing blood the wan cheek mantles o'er;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When stirs the pulse, when opes the glazing eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What voice of joy finds listeners in the sky?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Bless thee, my God!—this mercy thine!—he lives:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look in my heart, forgive, for it forgives!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Then, while yet clear the heaven, he flies—he gains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The nearest roof—prompt aid his prayer obtains;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well known the noble stranger's mien—they bear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the rude home, and ply the zealous care;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life with the dawn comes sure, if faint and slow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all night long the foeman watch'd the foe!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Day dawns on earth, still darkness wraps the mind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sleep pass'd, the waking is a veil more blind:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soul, scared roughly from its mansion, glides<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er mazy wastes through which the meteor guides.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The startled menial, who, alone of all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hireling pomp that swarms in Arden's hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Attends his lord,—dismay'd lest one so high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A rural Galen should permit to die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Departs in haste to seek the subtler skill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which from the College takes the right to kill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And summon Lucy to the solemn room<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To watch the father's life,—fast by the mother's tomb.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meanwhile such facile arts as nature yields,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Draughts from the spring and simples from the fields,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Learn'd in his savage youth, the Indian plies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fever slakes, the cloudy darkness flies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er the vex'd vision steals the lulling rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Arden wakes to sense on Morvale's breast!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">On Morvale's breast!—and through the noiseless door<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fearful footfall creeps, and lo! once more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou look'st, pale daughter, on thy father's foe!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not with the lurid eye and menaced blow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not as when last, between the murtherous blade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the proud victim, gleam'd the guardian maid—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy post is his!—that breast the prop supplies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That thine should yield;—as thine so watch those eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wistful and moist, that waning life above;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Recal the Heathen's hate!—behold the Christian's love!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 82]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The learned leech proclaims the danger o'er;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When life is safe, can Fate then harm no more?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The danger past for Arden, but for you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who watch the couch, what danger threats anew?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How meet in pious duty and fond care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In hours when through the eye the heart is bare?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How join in those soft sympathies, and yet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The earlier link, the tenderer bond forget?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How can the soul the magnet-charm withstand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When chance brings look to look, and hand to hand!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No, Indian, no—if yet the power divine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above the laws of our low world be thine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If yet the Honour which thy later creed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Softens, not quells, revere the injured dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fly, ere the full heart cries, "I love thee still"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And find thy guardian in the angel—<small>WILL</small>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That power was his!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Along the landscape lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hazy rime of winter's dawning day:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Snake-like the curving mists betray'd the rill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The last star gleam'd upon the Eastern hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still slept beneath the leafless trees the herd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still mute the sharp note of the sunless bird;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No sound, no life; as to some hearth, bereft<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By death, of welcome, since his wanderings left,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comes back the traveller;—so to earth, forlorn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Returns the ungreeted melancholy Morn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Forth from the threshold stole the Indian!—far<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spread the dim land beneath the waning star.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas! how wide the world his heart will find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who leaves one spot—the heart's true home, behind!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He paused—one upward look upon the gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the closed casement, the love-hallow'd room,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where yet, perchance, while happier Suffering slept<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its mournful vigil tender Duty kept;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One prayer! What mercy taught us prayer?—as dews<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On drooping herbs—as sleep tired life renews,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As dreams that lead, and lap our griefs in Heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To souls through Prayer, dew, sleep, and dream, are given!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So bow'd, not broken, and with manly will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Onwards he strode, slow up the labouring hill!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">If Lucy mourn'd his absence, not before<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her sire's dim eyes the face of grief she wore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haply her woman heart divined the spell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of her own power, by flight proclaim'd too well;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 83]</span><span class="i0">And not in hours like these may self control<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The generous empire of a noble soul:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, her first thought, first duty—the soft reign<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Woman—patience by the bed of pain!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As mute the father, yet to him made clear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cause of flight untold to Lucy's ear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus ran the lines that met, at morn, his eyes:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Farewell! my place a daughter now supplies!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou hast pass'd the gates of Death, and bright once more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smile round thy steps the sunlight and the shore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Farewell; and if a soul, where hatred's gall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Melts into pardon that embalmeth all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can with forgiveness bless thee;—from remorse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can pluck the stone which interrupts the course<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of thought to God;—and bid the waters rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm in Heaven's smile,—poor fellow-man, be blest!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I, that can aid no more, now need an aid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against myself; by mine own thoughts dismay'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I dare not face thy child—I may not dare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To commune with my heart—thy child is there!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hear a voice that whispers hope, and start<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In shame, to shun the tempter and depart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How vile the pardon that I yield would seem,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If shaped and colour'd from the egoist's dream;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A barter'd compromise with thoughts that take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The path of conscience but for passion's sake—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If with the pardon I could say—'The Tomb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Devours the Past, so let the Moment bloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And see Calantha's brother reconciled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kneel to Calantha's lover, for his child!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It may not be; sad sophists were our vain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Desires, if Right were not a code so plain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In good or ill leave casusits on the shelf,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'He never errs who sacrifices self!'"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Great Natures, Arden, thy strange lot to know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lose!—twin souls thy mistress and thy foe!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How flash'd they, high and starry, through the dull<br /></span> +<span class="i0">World's reeking air—earnest and beautiful!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Erring perchance, and yet divinely blind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such hero errors purify our kind!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One noble fault that springs from <span class="smcap">Self's</span> disdain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May oft more grace in Angel eyes obtain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than a whole life, without a seeming flaw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which served but Heaven, because of Earth in awe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which in each act has loss or profit weigh'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And kept with Virtue the accounts of Trade!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He too was born, lost Idler, to be great,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sins that dwarf'd, he had a soul to hate.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 84]</span><span class="i0">Ambition, Ease, Example had beguiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And our base world in fawning had defiled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet still, contrasting all he <i>did</i>, he <i>dream'd</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And through the Wordling's life the Poet gleam'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His eye not blind to Virtue; to his ear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still spoke the music of the banish'd sphere;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still in his thought the Ideal, though obscured,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shamed the rank meteor which his sense allured.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wreck if he was, the ruin yet betray'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shatter'd fane for gods departed made;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still, through weeds neglected and o'erthrown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blurr'd inscription show'd the altar-stone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So scorn'd he not, as folly or as pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lofty code which made the Indian's guide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But from that hour a subtle change came o'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The thoughts he veil'd, the outward mien he wore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A mournful, weary gloom, a pall'd distaste<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all the joys so warmly once embraced.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His eye no more <i>looks onward</i>. but its gaze<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rests where Remorse a life misspent surveys:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What costly treasures strew that waste behind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What whirlwinds daunt the soul that sows the wind!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the dark shape of what he <i>is</i>, serene<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stands the bright ghost of what he might have been:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here the vast loss, and there the worthless gain—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vice scorn'd, yet woo'd, and Virtue loved in vain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">'Tis said, the Nightingale, who hears the thrill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of some rich lute, made vocal by sweet skill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To match the music strains its wild essay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feels its inferior art, and envying, pines away:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, waked at last, and scarcely now confest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pined the still Poet in the Worldling's breast!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So with the Harmony of Good, compared<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its lesser self—so languish'd and despair'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Awhile, from land to land he idly roved,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And join'd life's movement with a heart unmoved.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more loud cities ring with Arden's name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Applaud his faults, and call his fashion "Fame!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Disgust with all things robes him as he goes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In that pale virtue, Vice, when weary, knows.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet his, at least, one rescue from the past;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His, one sweet comfort—Lucy's love at last!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That bed of pain o'er which she had watch'd and wept—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That grave, where Love forgot its wrongs and slept—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That touching sorrow and that still remorse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unlock'd her heart, and gave the stream its course.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 85]</span><span class="i0">From her own grief, by griefs more dark beguiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rose the consoling Angel in the Child!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet still the calm disease, whose mute decay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No leech arrests, crept gradual round its prey.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death came, came gently, on his daughter's breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Murm'ring, "Remember where this dust should rest."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They bear the last Lord of that haughty race<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where winds the wave round Mary's dwelling-place;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And side by side (oh, be it in the sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As in the earth!)—the long-divided lie!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Doth life's last act one wrong at least repair—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His nameless child to wealth at least the heir?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So Arden's will decreed—so sign'd the hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So ran the text—not so Law rules the land:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I do bequeath unto my <i>child</i>,"<a name="FNanchor_G_25" id="FNanchor_G_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_G_25" class="fnanchor">[Y]</a>—that word<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone on strangers has the wealth conferr'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'erjoy'd Law's heirs the legal blunder read,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Justice cancels Nature from the deed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O moral world! deal sternly if thou wilt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the warm weakness as the wily guilt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But spare the harmless! Wherefore shall the child<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be from the pale which shelters Crime exiled?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why heap such barriers round the sole redress<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which sin can give to sinless wretchedness?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why must the veriest stranger thrust aside<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our flesh—our blood, because a name's denied?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give all thou hast to whomsoe'er thou please,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Foe, alien, knave, as whim so Law decrees;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if thy heart speaks, if thy conscience cries—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I give my child"—the law thy voice belies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chicanery balks all effort that atones,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Justice robs the wretch that Nature owns!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">So abject, so despoil'd, so penniless,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stood thy love-born in the world's wilderness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Lord of lands and towers, and princely sway!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Dust, from whom with breath has pass'd away<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 86]</span><span class="i0">The humblest privilege the beggar finds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In rags that wrap his infant from the winds!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">In the poor hamlet where her grandsire died,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where sleeps her mother by the magnate's side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The orphan found a home. Her story known,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men's hearts allow the right men's laws disown.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though lost the birthright, and denied the name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her pastor-grandsire's virtues shield from shame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pity seeks kind pretext to pour its balms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yields light toils that saves the pride from alms.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A soft respect the orphan's steps attends,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the sharp thorn at least the rose defends.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So flows o'ershadow'd, but not darksome by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her life's lone stream—the banks admit the sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Day's quiet taskwork o'er, when Ev'ning grey<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lists the last carol on the quivering spray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When lengthening shades reflect the distant hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the near spire, upon the lullëd rill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her sole delight with pensive step to glide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the path that winds the wave beside,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A moment pausing on the bridge, to mark<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perchance the moonlight vista through the dark:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or watch the eddy where the wavelets play<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round the chafed stone that checks their happy way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then onward stealing, vanish from the view,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the star shimmers on the solemn yew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As shade from earth and starlight from the sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meet—and repose on Death's calm mystery.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Moons pass'd—Behold the blossom on the spray!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hark to the linnet!—On the world is May!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Green earth below and azure skies above;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May calling life to joy, and youth to love;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Age, charm'd back to rosy hours awhile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hears the lost vow, and sees the vanish'd smile.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And does not May, lone Child, revive in thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blossom and bud and mystic melody;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Does not the heart, like earth, imbibe the ray?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Does not the year's recal thy life's sweet May?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When like an altar to some happy bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shone all creation by the loved one's side?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes, Exile, yes—<i>that</i> Empire is thine own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rove where thou wilt, awaits thee still thy throne!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, where the paling cheek, the unconscious sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The slower footstep, and the heavier eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Betray the burthen of sweet thoughts and mute,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The slight tree bows beneath the golden fruit!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 87]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">'Tis eve. The orphan gains the holy ground, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And listening halts;—the boughs that circle round <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vex'd by no wind, yet rustle with a sound, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if that gentle form had scared some lone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unwonted step more timid than its own!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All still once more; perchance some daunted bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That loves the night, the murmuring leaves had stirr'd?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She nears the tomb—amaze!—what hand unknown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has placed those pious flowers upon the stone?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why beats her heart? why hath the electric mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose act, whose hand, whose presence there, divined?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why dreading, yearning, turn those eyes to meet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The adored, the lost?—Behold him at her feet!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His, those dark eyes that seek her own through tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His hand that clasps, and his the voice she hears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Broken and faltering—"Is the trial past?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, by the dead, art thou made mine at last?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far—in far lands I heard thy tale!—And thou<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Orphan and lone!—no bar between us now!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No Arden now calls up the wrong'd and lost;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, in this grave appeased the upbraiding ghost!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Orphan, I am thy father now!—Bereft<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all beside,—this heart at least is left.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forgive, forgive—Oh, canst thou yet bestow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One thought on him, to whom thou art all below?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who could desert but to remember more?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Canst thou the Heaven, the exile lost, restore?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Canst thou——"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">The orphan bow'd her angel head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breath blent with breath—her soul her silence said;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eye unto eye, and heart to heart reveal'd;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lip on lip the eternal nuptials seal'd!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The Moon breaks forth—one silver stream of light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glides from its fount in heaven along the night—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flows in still splendour through the funeral gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of yews,—and widens as it clasps the tomb—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the calm glory hosts as calm above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look on the grave—and by the grave is <span class="smcap">Love</span>!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="footnotes"> +<h4>FOOTNOTES</h4> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Where now stands St. James's palace stood the hospital dedicated to +St. James, for the reception of fourteen leprous maidens.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Charles the First attended divine service in the Royal Chapel immediately +before he walked through the park to his scaffold at Whitehall. In the palace +of St. James's, Monk and Sir John Granville schemed for the restoration of +Charles II.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_3" id="Footnote_C_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_3"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> The Sanscrit term, denoting the mixture or confusion of classes; applied to +that large portion of the Indian population excluded from the four pure castes.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_4" id="Footnote_D_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_4"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> According to Eastern commentators, the march of the Israelites in the +Desert was in a charmed circle; every morning they set out on their journey, +and every night found themselves on the same spot as that from which the +journey had commenced.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_E_5" id="Footnote_E_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_5"><span class="label">[E]</span></a> The Tilt-yard.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_F_6" id="Footnote_F_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_F_6"><span class="label">[F]</span></a> Since this was written, to Buckingham Palace has been prefixed a front +which is not without merit—in thrusting out of sight the other three sides +of the building.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_G_7" id="Footnote_G_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_G_7"><span class="label">[G]</span></a> The reader need scarcely be reminded, that these lines were written years +before the fatal accident which terminated an illustrious life. If the lines be +so inadequate to the subject, the author must state freely that he had the +misfortune to differ entirely from the policy pursued by Sir Robert Peel at the +time they were written; while if that difference forbade panegyric, his respect +for the man checked the freedom of satire. The author will find another +occasion to attempt, so far as his opinions on the one hand, and his reverence +on the other, will permit—to convey a juster idea of Sir Robert Peel's defects +or merits, perhaps as a statesman, at least as an orator.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_H_8" id="Footnote_H_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_H_8"><span class="label">[H]</span></a> Lord Stanley's memorable exclamation on a certain occasion which now +belongs to history,—"Johnny's upset the coach!" Never was coach upset +with such perfect <i>sang-froid</i> on the part of the driver.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_I_9" id="Footnote_I_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_I_9"><span class="label">[I]</span></a> Written before Sir Robert's avowed abandonment of protection. Prophetic.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_10" id="Footnote_A_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_10"><span class="label">[J]</span></a> "One of the most remarkable pictures of ancient manners which has been +transmitted to us, is that in which the poet Gower describes the circumstances +under which he was commanded by King Richard II.— +</p><p> + 'To make a book after his hest.' +</p><p> +The good old rhymer—— ... had taken boat, and upon the broad river +he met the king in his stately barge.... The monarch called him on +board his own vessel, and desired him to book 'some new thing.'—This was +the origin of the Confessio Amantis."—<span class="smcap">Knight's</span> <i>London</i>, vol. i. art. <i>The +Silent Highway.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_11" id="Footnote_B_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_11"><span class="label">[K]</span></a> "What a picture Hall gives us of the populousness of the Thames, in the +story which he tells us of the Archbishop of York (brother to the King-maker), +after leaving the widow of Edward IV. in the sanctuary of Westminster, +'sitting below on the rushes all desolate and dismayed,' and when he +opened his windows and looked on the Thames, he might see the river full +of boats of the Duke of Gloucester his servants, watching that no person +should go to sanctuary, nor none should pass unsearched."—Id. ibid.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_12" id="Footnote_C_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_12"><span class="label">[L]</span></a> A favourite rendezvous a few years since (and probably even still) for the +heroes of that fraternity, more dear to Mercury than to Themis, was held at +Devereux Court, occupying a part of the site on which stood the residence +of the Knights Templars.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_13" id="Footnote_D_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_13"><span class="label">[M]</span></a> The Amrita is the name given by the mythologists of Thibet to the +heavenly tree which yields its ambrosial fruits to the gods.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_E_14" id="Footnote_E_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_14"><span class="label">[N]</span></a> +The Champac, a flower of a bright gold-colour, with which the Indian +women are fond of adorning their hair. Moore alludes to the custom in the +"Veiled Prophet."</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The maid of India blest again to hold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In her full lap the Champac's leaves of gold," &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_15" id="Footnote_A_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_15"><span class="label">[O]</span></a> The perfumes from the island of Rhodes,—to which the roses that still +bloom there gave the ancient name,—are wafted for miles over the surrounding +seas.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_16" id="Footnote_B_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_16"><span class="label">[P]</span></a> The Psyche of Naples, the most intellectual and (so to speak) the most +<i>Christian</i> of all the dreams of beauty which Grecian art has embodied in the +marble.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_17" id="Footnote_C_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_17"><span class="label">[Q]</span></a> Every one knows, through the version of Mrs. Tighe, the lovely allegory +of Eros and Psyche, which Apuleius—the neglected original, to whom all later +romance writers are unconsciously indebted—has bequeathed to the delight +of poets and the recognition of Christians.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_18" id="Footnote_D_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_18"><span class="label">[R]</span></a> The reader will bear in mind these lines, important to the clearness of the +story; and remember that Calantha bore a different name from her half-brother—that +her mother's unnatural prejudice or pride of race had forbidden +her ever to mention that brother's name; and that, therefore, her relationship +to Morvale, until he sought her out, was wholly unknown to all: the reader +will remember, also, that during Calantha's subsequent residence in Morvale's +house, she lived as woman lives in the East, and was consequently never seen +by her brother's guests.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_19" id="Footnote_A_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_19"><span class="label">[S]</span></a> "At best it <i>babies</i> us."—<span class="smcap">Young.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_20" id="Footnote_B_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_20"><span class="label">[T]</span></a> "For, oh! he stood before me as my youth."—<span class="smcap">Coleridge's</span> <i>Wallenstein</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_21" id="Footnote_C_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_21"><span class="label">[U]</span></a> The beautiful story of Aimée—the delight of all children—is in the collection +entitled "The Temple of the Fairies."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_22" id="Footnote_D_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_22"><span class="label">[V]</span></a> According to the exploded hypothesis of Voltaire, that the Gipsies are a +Syrian tribe, the remains of the long scattered fraternity of Isis.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_E_23" id="Footnote_E_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_23"><span class="label">[W]</span></a> Whoever is well acquainted with the heathen learning must often have +been deeply impressed with the mournful character of the mythological +Elysium. Even the few admitted to the groves of asphodel, unpurified by +death, retain the passions and pine with the griefs of life; they envy the mortal +whom the poet brings to their moody immortality; and, amidst the disdained +repose, sigh for the struggle and the storm.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_F_24" id="Footnote_F_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_F_24"><span class="label">[X]</span></a> Not only were the lofty and cheering notions of the soul, that were +cherished by the more illustrious philosophers of Greece, confined to a few, +but even the grosser and dimmer belief in a future state, which the vulgar +mythology implied, was not entertained by the multitude. Plato remarked +that few, even in his day, had faith in the immortality of the soul; and indeed +the Hades of the ancients was not for the Many. Amongst those condemned +we find few criminals, except the old Titans, and such as imitated them in the +one crime—blasphemy to the fabled gods: and the dwellers of Elysium are +chiefly confined to the poets and the heroes, the oligarchy of earth.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_G_25" id="Footnote_G_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_G_25"><span class="label">[Y]</span></a> If a man wishes to leave a portion to his natural child, his lawyer will tell +him to name the child as if it were a stranger to his blood. If he says, "I +leave to John Tompson, of Baker-street, £10,000," John Tompson may +probably get the legacy; if he says, "I leave to my son, John Tompson, of +Baker-street, £10,000," and the said John Tompson <i>is</i> his son (<i>a natural one</i>), +it is a hundred to one if John Tompson ever touches a penny! Up springs +the Inhuman Law, with its multiform obstacles, quibbles, and objections—proof +of identity—evidence of birth!—Many and many a natural child has thus +been robbed and swindled out of his sole claim upon redress—his sole chance +of subsistence. In most civilised countries a father is permitted to own the +offspring, whom, unless he do so, he has wronged at its very birth—whom, if +he do not so, he wrongs irremedially; with us the error is denied reparation, +and the innocence is sentenced to outlawry. Our laws, with relation to illegitimate +children, are more than unjust—they are inhuman.</p></div> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 88]</span></p> +<h2><a name="CONSTANCE_OR_THE_PORTRAIT" id="CONSTANCE_OR_THE_PORTRAIT"></a>CONSTANCE; OR, THE PORTRAIT.</h2> + + +<h3>PART THE FIRST.</h3> + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>I.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">On Avon's stream, in day's declining hours,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The loitering Angler sees reflected towers;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Adown the hill the stately shadows glide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And force their frown upon the gentle tide:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Another shade, as stately and as slow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Steals down the slope and dims the peace below:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, side by side, your noiseless shadows fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time-wearied Lord, and time-defying hall!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As Song's sweet Master fled the roar of Rome,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the Bandusian fount and Sabine home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A soul forsook the beaten tracks of life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sought the lone bye-path and escaped the strife;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And paused, reviving 'mid the haunts of youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To conjure fancies back, or muse on truth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One home there is, from which, howe'er we stray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">True as a star, the smile pursues our way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The home of thoughtful childhood's mystic tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of earliest Sabbath bells on sinless ears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of noonday dreamings under summer trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And prayers first murmur'd at a mother's knees.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! happy he, whose later home as man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is made where Love first spoke, and Hope began,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where haunted floors dear footsteps back can give,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in our Lares all our fathers live!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Graced with those gifts the vulgar mostly prize,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if used wisely, precious to the wise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wealth and high lineage;—Ruthven's name was known<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Less for ancestral greatness than its own:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With boyhood's dreams the grand desire began<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which, nerved by labour, lifts <i>from</i> rank the man<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 89]</span><span class="i0">Ev'n as the eye in Art's majestic halls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not on the frame but on the portrait falls;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So to each nobler life the gaze we bound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor heed what casework clasps the picture round.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">But who can guess that crisis of the soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the old glory first forsakes the goal?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Knowledge halts and sees but cloud before;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When sour'd Experience whispers 'hope no more;'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When every onward footstep from our side<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Parts the slow friend or hesitating guide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When envy rots the harvest in the sheaf;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When faith in virtue seems the child's belief;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And life's last music sighs itself away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On some false lip, that kiss'd but to betray?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus from a world that wrong'd him, self-exiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The man resought the birthplace of the child.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rest comes betimes, if toil commence too soon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The brightest sun is stillest at the noon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weary at mid-day, genius halts the course,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hails the respite which renews the force.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>II.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Deep in the vale from which those towers arose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A life more shatter'd, sought more late repose;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Seaton long had men and marts obey'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The unerring hierarch in thy temple, Trade.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trade, the last earth-god; whom the Olympian Power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Begot on Danaë, as the Golden Shower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To whose young hands the weary Jove resign'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some ages since, the scales that weigh mankind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But that dire Fate, who Jove himself controll'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still shakes the urn, although the lots are gold:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reverses came, the whirlwind of a day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swept the strong labours of a life away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rased out of sight whate'er is sold or bought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And left but name and honour—men said "nought."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">True, knavery whisper'd, "Only still disguise:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Credit is generous, if you blind its eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The borrow'd prop arrests the house's fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And one rich chance may yet reconquer all."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There on his priest the earth-god lost control,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from the wreck the merchant saved his soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Alone, I rose," he said; "I fall alone—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor one man's ruin shall accuse mine own."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so, life passing from the gorgeous stage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The curtain fell on Poverty and Age.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 90]</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>III.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Yet one fair flower survived the common dearth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And one sweet voice gave music still to earth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Fortune's victim Nature pitying smiled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Still rich!" the father cried, and clasp'd his child.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Beautiful Constance!—As the icy air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Congeals the earth, to make more clear the star,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So the meek soul look'd lovelier from thine eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the sharp winter of the alter'd skies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet the soft child had memories unconfess'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And griefs that wept not on a father's breast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In brighter days, such love as fancy knows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(That youngest love whose couch is in the rose)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had sent the shaft, which, when withdrawn in haste,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaves not a scar by which the wound is traced;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if it rest, more fatal grows the smart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And deepening from the surface, gains the heart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In truth, young Harcourt had the gifts that please,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wit without effort, beauty worn with ease;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The courtier's mien to veil the miser's soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that self-love which brings such self-control.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High-born, but poor, no Corydon was he<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To dream of love and cots in Arcady;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His tastes were like the Argonauts of old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And only pastoral if the fleece was gold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The less men feel, the better they can feign—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To act a Romeo, needs it Romeo's pain?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No, the calm master of the Histrio's art<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keeps his head coolest while he storms your heart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus, our true mime no boundary overstept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charm'd when he smiled, and conquer'd when he wept.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Meanwhile, what pass'd the father had not guess'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor learn'd the courtship till the suit was press'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then prudence woke, and judgment, grown austere, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Join'd trade's slow caution with affection's fear, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whisper'd this wise counsel—"Wait a year!" <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vain the lover pleaded to the maid;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"A year soon passes," Constance smiling said.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just then—for Harcourt's service was the sword—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Duty ordain'd what gentle taste abhorr'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cursed by a country which at times forgets<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It boasts an empire where the sun ne'er sets,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some isle, resentful of our lax control,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rebels on purpose to distract his soul.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A month had scorch'd him on that hateful shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When paled those charms to which such faith he swore;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 91]</span><span class="i0">News came that left to Constance not a grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sire's reverses changed the daughter's face;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Oh heavens!—so handsome! Gone in one short hour!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"What," quoth a friend, "The Lady?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">"No, the dower."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IV.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Yet still, fair Constance in her lone retreat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cheer'd the dull hours with faithful self-deceit;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What though no tidings came to brighten time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To doubt of Harcourt seem'd less grief than crime.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Easier to blame the elements unkind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The distant clime, the ocean, and the wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Think them all leagued to intercept the scroll,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than place distrust where soul confides in soul.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ever foremost in her wish was yet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hide remembrance lest it seem'd regret;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That in her looks this comfort still might be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Father, I smile—and joy yet lives for thee!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus Seaton deem'd her childish fancy flown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the worn mind fresh hearts are realms unknown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As we live on, the finer tints of truth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fade from the landscape.—Age is blind to youth.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3>PART THE SECOND.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>I.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Oft to a creek, in Shakspeare's haunted stream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What time the noon invites of song to dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where stately oak with silver poplar weaves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hospitable shade of amorous leaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, lightly swerved by winding shores askance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The limpid river wreathes its flying dance,<a name="FNanchor_A_26" id="FNanchor_A_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_26" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Young Constance came;—a bank with wild flowers drest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As for a fairy's sleep, her sylvan rest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behind, the woodlands, opening, left a glade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With swards all sunshine in the midst of shade;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 92]</span><span class="i0">Save where pale lilacs droop'd against the ray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Around the cot which meekly shunn'd the day:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But stern and high, above the deep repose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of vale and wave, the towers of Ruthven rose;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like souls unshelter'd because high they are,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The nearer heaven the more from peace afar;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Built by the mighty Architect, to form<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bulwarks for man, and battle with the storm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To soar and suffer with defying crest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And guard the humble, not partake their rest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">A lonely spot! at times a passing oar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dash'd the wave quicker to the gradual shore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But swift, as, when some footfall nears her lair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Starts the fond cushat from her tender care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Silence</span> came back, with wings that seem'd to brood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In watch more loving over solitude.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>II.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Thus Constance sate, by some sweet sorcerer's rhyme<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charm'd into worlds beyond the marge of Time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When a dim shadow o'er the herbage stole,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And light boughs stirr'd above the violet knoll;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vain the shadow stole, the light bough stirr'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her sense yet spell-bound by the magic word;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spell-bound no less, his steps the stranger stay'd—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gazed as Cymon on the sleeping Maid.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, oh! that brow so angel-clear from guile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That childlike lip unconscious of its smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That virgin bloom where blushes went and came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From deeps of feeling never stirr'd by shame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seem'd like the Una of the Poet's page<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charm'd into life by some bright Archimage.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not till each gaudier Venus crowds adore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And desecrate adoring—dupes no more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comes the true Goddess, by her blushes known—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dove her symbol, innocence her zone!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the first glance her birth the Urania proves.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaven smiles, and Nature blossoms where she moves.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>III.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The virgin rose; the gazer quick withdrew;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The favouring thicket closed her form from view.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slow went she homeward up the sunlit ground;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unseen he followed, where the woodlands wound;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spell that first arrested now lured on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in that spell a frown from earth seem'd gone.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 93]</span><span class="i0">As in the languid noon of summer day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Birds fold the pinion and suspend the lay—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So hopes lie silent in the human heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till all at once the choirs to music start,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the long hush rejoicing wings arise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sport round the blooms, or glance into the skies.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IV.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">She gain'd the cot; irresolute he stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the wall ceased amidst the circling wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When voices rude and sudden jarr'd his ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thro' the din came woman's wail of fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then all grew silent as he gain'd the door<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which gaped ajar;—he cross'd the threshold floor:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now sounds more low;—he still pass'd on and saw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Track'd to its covert, Want at bay with Law.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Daughter clinging to the Father's breast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Father's struggle from the clasp that press'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hard officials, with familiar leer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ribald comfort barb'd with cynic sneer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On these, the Lord of lavish thousands glanced,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Law louted lowly as that Wealth advanced.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And what this old Man's crime?"—"My orders say,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quoth Law, and smiled—"a debt he cannot pay!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then from his child the poor proud captive broke—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sign'd to the door—raised moistening eyes, and spoke—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I thank thee, Heaven! that in my prosperous time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I was not harsh to others—for this crime;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sirs, I am ready!"—Ere the word was o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The parchment fell in fragments on the floor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The crime is rased!" cried Wealth.—"My Lord," said Law,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I humbly thank your Lordship, and withdraw."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>V.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Hat'st thou the world, O Misanthrope, austere?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do one kind act, and all the world grows dear!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say'st thou—"Alas, kind acts requited ill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made me loathe men!"—I answer, "Do them still."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On its own wings should Good itself upbuoy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rejoicing heaven, because it feels but joy.—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Oft from that date did Ruthven gaily come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where hope, revived, with Constance found a home;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well did he soothe the griefs his host had known,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But well—too proud for pity—veil'd his own.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silent, he watch'd the gentle daughter's soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scann'd every charm, and peerless found the whole,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 94]</span><span class="i0">He spoke not love; and if his looks betray'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The anxious Sire was wiser than the Maid.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still, ever listening, on her lips he hung,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hush'd when she spoke—enraptured when she sung;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when the hues her favourite art bestow'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a new hope from the fair fancy glow'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the cold canvas with the image warms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As from the blank start forth the breathing forms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So would he look within him, and compare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With those mute shapes the new-born phantoms there.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the mind, as on the canvas rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The young fresh world the Ideal only knows;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The world of which both Art and Passion are<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Builders;—to this so near—from this so far.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What music charm'd the verse on which she gazed!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How doubly dear the poet that she praised!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when he spoke, and from the affluent mind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That books had stored, and intercourse refined,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pour'd forth the treasures,—still his choice addrest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To her mild heart what seem'd to please it best;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet the maiden dream'd not that <i>he</i> loved<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who flatter'd never, and at times reproved—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reproved—but, oh, so tenderly! and ne'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But for such faults as soils the purest bear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A trust too liberal in our common race,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dividing scarce the noble from the base,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sight too dazzled by the outward hues—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sense though clear, too timid to refuse;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yielding the course that it would fain pursue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still to each guide that proffer'd it the clue;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that soft shrinking into self—allied,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If half to Diffidence—yet half to Pride.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He loved her, and she loved him not; revered<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His lofty nature, and in reverence fear'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The glorious gifts—the kingly mind she saw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet seeing felt not tenderness, but awe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the dark beauty of his musing eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chill'd back the heart, from which it woo'd reply:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Harcourt—the gay—the prodigal of youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still charm'd her fancy, while he chain'd her truth.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VI.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Seaton, meanwhile, the heart of Ruthven read,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With hopes which robb'd the future of its dread;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could he but live to see his child the bride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of one so wise, so kind, lover at once and guide!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silent at first, at last the deeps o'er-flow'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One eve they sate without their calm abode,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 95]</span><span class="i0">Father and Child, and mark'd the vermeil glow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of clouds that floated where the sun set slow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But on the opposing towers of Ruthven shone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The last sweet splendour, and when gradual gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Left to the space above that grand decay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rosiest tints, and last to fade away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Father mused; then with impulsive start<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turn'd and drew Constance closer to his heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Murmuring—"Ah, there, let but thy lot be cast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Fate withdraws all sadness from the past.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blest be the storm that wreck'd us, here to find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One whom my soul had singled from mankind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If mine the palace still, and his the cot,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For that sweet prize which Fortune withers not."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, wrapt too fondly in his tender dream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To note his listener, he pursues the theme.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale as the dead, she hears his gladness speak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sees the rare smile illume the careworn cheek;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dear if the lover in her sunny day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More dear the Sire since sunshine pass'd away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How dare to say,—"No, let thy smile depart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And take back sorrow from a daughter's heart?"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">And while they sate, along the sward below<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came Ruthven's stately form, and footstep slow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She saw—she fled—her chamber gain'd—and there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sobb'd out that grief which youth believes despair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thenceforth her solitude was desolate;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forebodings chill'd her as a shade from Fate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At Ruthven's step her colour changed—and dread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hush'd her low voice: such signs his hope misled.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hope, to its own vain dreams the idle seer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whisper'd—"First love comes veil'd in virgin fear!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now, o'er Harcourt's image, as the rust<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er the steel mirror, crept at length distrust.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ordeal year already pass'd away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still no voice came o'er the dreary sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No faithful joy to cry—"The ordeal's past,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And loved as ever, thou art mine at last."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VIII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">But Ruthven's absence now, if not to grief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At least to one vague terror, gave relief:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For days, for weeks, some cause, unknown to all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had won the lonely Master from his hall.—<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 96]</span><span class="i0">Much Seaton marvell'd! half disposed to blame; <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Gone, and no word ev'n absence to proclaim!" <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, sudden as he went, the truant came. <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Franker his brow, and brighter was his look,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with a warmer clasp his host's wan hand he took:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Joy to thee, friend, thy race is not yet o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy fortunes still thy genius shall restore:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy house from ruin reascends, to stand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Firm as of old, a column of the land.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joy, Seaton, joy!"—"O mock me not—Explain!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bark once sunk beneath the obdurate main,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No tide throws up!"—"New galleons Fortune gives.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fortune ne'er dies for him whose honour lives."—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Is fortune not the usurer?—Kind while yet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hand that borrows may repay the debt;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When all is lavish'd, she hath nought to lend!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But can she give not? Hast thou call'd me Friend?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He paused, and glanced on Constance—while his breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaved with the tumult which the lip represt.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till she, but looking on her father's face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In his joy joyous,—sprang from his embrace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before the Benefactor paused, and bow'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Falter'd a blessing, knelt, and wept aloud:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Not there, not there, O Constance," Ruthven cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Here be thy place—for ever side by side!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thanks—and to me!—Ah no! the boon be thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy heart the generous, and the grateful mine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh pardon—if my soul its suit delay'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the world's dross the worldly equal made;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And left to thee to grant and me receive<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man's earliest treasures—Paradise and Eve!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beloved one, speak! Not mine the silver tongue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And toil leaves manhood nought that lures the young;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in these looks is truth—these accents, love:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in thy faith all that survive above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The graves of Time, as in Elysium meet!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hope flies to thee as to its last retreat."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speechless she heard—till, as he paused, the voice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the fond Sire usurp'd and doom'd the choice:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"May she repay thee!" In his own he drew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her hand and Ruthven's, smiled and join'd the two—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ah! could I make thee happy,"—thus she said<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ceased:—her sentence in his eyes she read—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eyes that the rashness of delight reveal:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love gave the kiss, and Fate received the seal.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 97]</span></p> + +<h3>PART THE THIRD.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>I.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Between two moments in the life of man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An airy bridge divided worlds may span;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fine as the hair which sways beneath a soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Azrael summon'd to the spectre goal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It springs abrupt from that sharp point in time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where, soft behind us in its orient clime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lies the lost garden-land of young Romance:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond, with cloud upon the cold expanse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Looms rugged Duty;—and betwixt them swell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Abysmal deeps, in which to fall were hell.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O thou, who tread'st along that trembling line,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stedfast step, the onward gaze be thine!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dread Memory most!—the light thou leav'st would blind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy foot betrays thee if thou look behind!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">If Constance yet escaped not from the past,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At least she strove:—the chain may break at last.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Veil'd by the smile, Grief can so safely grieve:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love that confides, a smile can so deceive:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Ruthven kneeling at the altar's base<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Guess'd not the idol which profaned the place;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But smiles forsake when secret hours bestow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The angry self-confessional of woe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When trembling thought and stern-eyed conscience meet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And truth rebukes ev'n duty for deceit.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! what a world were this if all were known,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And smiles on others track'd to tears alone!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft, had he seem'd less lofty to her eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her soul had spoken and confess'd its lie:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But sometimes natures least obscured by clay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shine through an awe that scares the meek away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, near as life may seem to life,—alas!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each hath closed portals, nought but love can pass.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus the resolve, in absence nursed, forsook<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her lip, and died, abash'd, before his look;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His foes his virtues—honour seem'd austere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all most reverenced most provoked the fear.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 98]</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>II.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Pass by some weeks: to London Seaton went,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His genius glorying in its wonted vent;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">New props are built, and new foundations laid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And once more rose thy crowded temple—Trade!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then back the sire and daughter bent their way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, where the troth was pledged, let Hymen claim the day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Constance came a friend of earlier years,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Partner of childhood's smiles and pangless tears;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaf intertwined with leaf, their youth together<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ripen'd to bloom through life's first April weather.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Juliet Constance had no care untold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here grief found sympathy and wept consoled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On woman's pitying heart could woman here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mourn perish'd hope, or pour remorseful fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And breathe those prayers which woman breathes for one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who fading from her world is still its sun.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These made their commune, when from darkening skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale as lost joys, stars gleam'd on tearful eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They guess'd not how the credulous gaze of love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dwelt on the moon that rose their roof above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saw as on Latmos fall the enchanted beams—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bless'd the Dian for Endymion's dreams.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>III.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Meanwhile, to England Harcourt's steps return'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Seaton's new-born state the earliest news he learn'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What the emotions of this injured man?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had a friend—and thus his letter ran:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Back to this land, where merit starves obscure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where wisdom says—'Be anything but poor,'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Return'd, my eyes the path to wealth explore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And straight I hear—'Constance is rich once more!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou know'st, my friend, with what a dexterous craft<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I 'scaped the cup a tenderer dupe had quaff'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For in the chalice misery holds to life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What drop more nauseous than a dowerless wife?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet she was fair, and gentle, charming—all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That man would make his partner at a ball!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, for the partner of a life, what more?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plate at the board, a porter at the door!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cupid and Plutus, though they oft divide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If bound to Hymen should walk side by side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A boon companion halves the longest way,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Plutus join'd, I own that Love was gay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Plutus left, where Hymen did begin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The way look'd dreary and the God gave in:<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 99]</span><span class="i0">Now his old comrade once more is bestow'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Cupid starts refresh'd upon the road.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'But how,' thou ask'st, 'how dupe again the ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In which thy voice slept silent for a year?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And how explain, how'—Why impute to thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Questions whose folly thy quick glance can see?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who loves is ever glad to be deceived,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who lies the most is still the most believed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Somewhat I trust to Eloquence and Art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And where these fail—thank Heaven she has a heart!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More it disturbs me that some rumours run,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Constance, too, can play the faithless one;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, where round pastoral meads blue streamlets purl,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chloë has found a Thyrsis—in an Earl!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And oh! that Ruthven! Hate is not for me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who loves not, hates not,—both bad policy!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet <i>could</i> I hate, through all the earth I know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But that one man my soul would honour so.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through ties remote—by some Scotch grand-dam's side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We are, if scarce related, yet allied;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And had his mother been a barren dame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mine were those lands, and mine that lordly name:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, if he die without an heir, ev'n yet—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, while I write, perchance the seal is set!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Farewell! a letter speeds to her retreat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The prayer that wafts her Harcourt to her feet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There to explain the past—his faith defend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And claim, <i>et cetera</i>—Yours, in haste, my friend!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IV.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">To Constance came a far less honest scroll,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet oh, each word seem'd vivid from the soul!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fear, hope—reports that madden'd, yet could stir<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No faith in one who ne'er could doubt of her:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wild vows renew'd—complaints of no replies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To lines unwrit; the eloquence of lies!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And more than all, the assurance still too dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Love surviving that vast age—a year!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such were the tidings to the maiden borne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And—woe the day—upon her Bridal Morn!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>V.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">It was the loving twilight's rosiest hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Love-star trembled on the ivied tower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As through the frowning archway pass'd the bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Juliet, whispering courage, by her side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Ruthven went before, that first of all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His voice might welcome to his father's hall:<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 100]</span><span class="i0">There, on the antique walls, the lamp from high<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Show'd the stern wrecks of battle-storms gone by.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gleam'd the blue mail, indented with the glaive,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Droop'd the dull banner, breezeless, on the stave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Below the Gothic masks, grotesque and grim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Carved from the stonework, like a wizard's whim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hung the accoutrements that lent a grace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the old warrior-pastime of the chase.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cross-bows by hands, long dust, once deftly borne;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Hawker's glove, the Huntsman's soundless horn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the huge hearth the hospitable flame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lit the dark portrait in its mouldering frame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Statesmen in senates, knights in fields, renown'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On their new daughter ominously frown'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the young Stranger, shivering to behold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Home she enter'd seem'd the tomb of old.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VI.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Doth it so chill thee, Constance? Dare I own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The charm that haunts what childhood's years have known,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How many dreams of fame beyond my sires,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wing'd the proud thought that now no more aspires!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, while I paced, at the dusk twilight time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the deep church-bell toll'd the curfew chime;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the dim Past my spirit seem'd to live,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To every relic some weird legend give;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And muse such hopes of glorious things to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As they, the Dead, mused once;—wild dreams—fulfill'd in thee!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, never 'mid those early visions shone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A face so sweet, my Constance, as thine own!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And what if all that charm'd me then, depart?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clear, through the fading mists, smiles my soft heav'n—thy heart!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What, drooping still! Nay love, we are not all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So sad within, as this time-darken'd hall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come!"—and they pass'd (still Juliet by her side)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To a fair chamber, deck'd to greet the bride.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, all of later luxury lent its smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To cheer, yet still beseem, the reverend pile.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What though the stately tapestry met the eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gay were its pictures, brilliant were its dyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, graceful cressets from the gilded roof,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In mirrors glass'd the landscapes of the woof.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, in the Gothic niche, the harp was placed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There ranged the books most hallow'd by her taste;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the half-open casement you might view<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sweet soil prank'd with flowers of every hue;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on the terrace, crowning the green mountain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gleam'd the fair statue, play'd the sparkling fountain:<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 101]</span><span class="i0">Within, without, all plann'd, all deck'd to greet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Queen of all—whose dowry was deceit!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft breathed the air, soft shone the moon above—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All save the bride's sad heart, whispering Earth's Hymn to Love!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As Ruthven's hand sought hers, on Juliet's breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She fell; and passionate tears, till then supprest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gush'd from averted eyes. To him the tears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Betray'd no secret that could rouse his fears—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For joy, as grief, the tender heart will melt—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tears but proved how well his love was felt.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, with the delicate thought that shunn'd to hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thanks for the cares, which cares themselves endear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He whisper'd, "Linger not!" and closed the door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Constance sobbed—"Thank Heaven, alone with thee once more!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Across his threshold Ruthven lightly strode,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his glad heart from its full deeps o'erflow'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pass'd is the Porch—he gains the balmy air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still crouch the night winds in their forest lair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moonlight silvers the unrustling pines,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the hush'd lake the tremulous glory shines.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A stately shadow o'er the crystal brink,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reflects the shy stag as its halt to drink;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the slow cygnet, where it midway glides,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breaks into sparkling rings the faintly heaving tides.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wandering along his boyhood's haunts, he mused;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hour, the heaven, the bliss his soul suffused;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It seem'd all hatred from the world had flown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And left to Nature, Love and God alone!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'n holiest passion holier render'd there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His every thought breathed gentle as a prayer.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VIII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Thus, as the eve grew mellowing into night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still from yon lattice stream'd the unwelcome light—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Why loitering yet, and wherefore linger I?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And at that thought ev'n Nature pall'd his eye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He miss'd that voice, which with low music fill'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The starry heaven of the rapt thoughts it thrill'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He gain'd the hall—the lofty stair he wound—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold, the door of his heart's fairy-ground!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tapestry veil'd him, as its folds, half-raised,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gave to his eye the scene on which it gazed:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still Constance wept—and hark what sounds are those<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What awful secret those wild sobs disclose!—<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 102]</span><span class="i0">"No, leave me not!—I cannot meet his eyes!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Heaven! must life be ever one disguise!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What seem'd indifference when we pledged the troth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now grown—O wretch!—to terrors that but loathe!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh that the earth might swallow me!" Again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gush forth the sobs, while Juliet soothes in vain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nay, nay, be cheer'd—we must not more delay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cease these wild bursts till I his steps can stay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No, for thy sake—for thine—I must begone."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She 'scaped the circling arms, and Constance wept alone.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IX.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">By the opposing door, from that unseen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Ruthven stood behind the arras-screen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pass'd Juliet. Suddenly the startled bride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look'd up, and lo, the Wrong'd One by her side!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They gazed in silence face to face: his own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sad, stern, and awful, chill'd her heart to stone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At length the low and hollow accents stirr'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His blanching lip, that writhed with every word:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Hear me a moment, nor recoil to hear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A love so hated wounds no more thine ear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I thank thee—I—!" His lips would not obey<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His pride,—and all the manly heart gave way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low at his feet she fell: the alter'd course<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of grief ran deep'ning into vain remorse;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Forgive me!—O forgive!"<br /></span> +<span class="i10">"Forgive!" he cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And passion rush'd in speech, till then denied.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Vile mockery! Bid me in the desert live<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone with treason—and then say 'Forgive!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou dost not know the ruins thou hast made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faith in <i>all</i> things thy falsehood has betray'd!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou, the last refuge, where my baffled youth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dream'd its safe haven, murmuring—'Here is Truth!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou in whose smile I garner'd up my breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Exult! thy fraud surpasses all the rest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No! close, my heart—grow marble! Human worth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is not; and falsehood is the name for earth!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>X.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Wildly, with long disorder'd strides, he paced<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The floor to feel the world indeed a waste;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For as the earth if God were not above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man's hearth without the Lares—Faith and Love!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But what his woe to hers?—for him at least<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Conscience was calm, though ev'ry hope had ceased.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 103]</span><span class="i0">But she!—all sorrow for herself had paused,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To live in that worse anguish she had caused:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"No, Ruthven, no! Thy pardon not for me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But oh that Heaven may shed its peace on thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So worthless I, so worthless thy regret;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh that repentance could requite thee yet!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh that a life that henceforth ne'er shall own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One thought, one wish, one hope, but to atone,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Obedience, honour——"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">"These may make the wife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A faultless statue:—love but breathes the life!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poor child! Nay, weep not; bitterer far, in truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than mine, the fate to which thou doom'st thy youth:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For manhood's pride the love at last may quell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when could Woman with Indifference dwell?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No sorrow soothed, no joy enhanced since shared.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Heaven—the solitude thy soul has dared!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But thou hast chosen! Vain for each regret;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All that is left—to seem that we forget.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No word of mine my wrongs shall e'er recall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thine, wealth and pomp, and reverence—take them all!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May they console thee, Constance, for a heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That—but enough! So let the loathed depart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These chambers thine, my step invades them not;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sleep, if thou canst, as in thy virgin cot.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Henceforth all love has lost its hated claim;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If wed, be cheer'd; our wedlock but a name.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Much as thou scorn'st me, know this heart above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The power of beauty, when disarm'd of love.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so, may Heaven forgive thee!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">"Ruthven, stay!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Generous—too noble: can no distant day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Win thy forgiveness also, and restore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy trust, thy friendship, even though love be o'er?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He paused a moment with a soften'd eye;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Alas! thou dreadest, while thou ask'st, reply:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If ever, Constance, that blest day should come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When crowds can teach thee what the loss of Home;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If ever, when with those who court thee there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The love that chills thee now, thou canst compare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And feel that if thy choice thou couldst recall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Him now unloved, thy love would choose from all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why then, one word, one whisper!—oh, no more—"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fearful of himself, he closed the door!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 104]</span></p> +<h3>PART THE FOURTH.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>I.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Ah, yes, Philosopher, thy creed is true!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis our own eyes that give the rainbow's hue:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What we call Matter, in this outer earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Takes from our senses, those warm dupes, its birth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How fair to sinless Adam Eden smiled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But sin brought tears, and Eden was a wild!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man's soul is as an everlasting dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glassing life's fictions on a phantom stream:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To-day, in glory all the world is clad—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherefore, O Man?—because thy heart is glad.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To-morrow, and the self-same scene survey—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The same!</i> Oh no—the pomp hath pass'd away!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherefore the change? <i>Within</i>, go, ask reply—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy heart hath given its winter to the sky!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vainly the world revolves upon its pole;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light—Darkness—Seasons—these are in the soul!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>II.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Trite truth," thou sayest—well, if trite it be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why seek we ever from ourselves to flee?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pleased to deceive our sight, and loath to know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We bear the climate with us where we go!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">To that immense Bethesda, whither still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each worse disease seeks cures for every ill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To that great well, in which the Heart at strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Merges its own amidst the common life,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whatever name it take, or Public Zeal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or Self-Ambition, still as sure to heal,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From his sad hearth his sorrows Ruthven bore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long shunn'd the strife of men, now sought once more.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flock'd to his board the Magnates of the Hour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who clasp for Fame its spectre-likeness—Power!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The busy, babbling, talking, toiling race—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Word-besiegers of the Fortress—Place!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waves, each on each, in sunlight hurrying on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A moment gilded—in a moment gone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Honours fool but with deluding light—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The place it glides through, <i>not the wave</i>, is bright!<a name="FNanchor_B_27" id="FNanchor_B_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_27" class="fnanchor">[B]</a><br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 105]</span><span class="i0">The means, if not his ends, with these the same,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Ruthven, Party hail'd a Leader's name!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Night after night the listening Senate hung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On that roused mind, by Grief to Action stung!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Night after night, when Action, spent and worn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Left yet more sad the soul it had upborne;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sight of Home the frown of Life renew'd—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The World gave Fame and Home a Solitude!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>III.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">And Constance? sever'd from a husband's side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No heart to cherish, and no hand to guide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still, as if ev'n the very name of wife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drew her soul upward into loftier life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The solemn sense of woman's holiest tie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arm'd every thought against the memory.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Mid shatter'd Lares stood the Marriage Queen—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As on a Roman's hearth, with marble smile serene:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">New to her sight that galaxy of mind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which moves round men who light and guide their kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where all shine equal in their joint degrees<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rank's harsh outlines vanish into ease.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As Power and Genius interchange their hues<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So genial life the classic charm renews;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some Scipio's wit a Terence may refine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some Cæsar's pomp exalt a Maro's line—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The polish'd have their flaws, but least espied<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amongst the polish'd is the angle pride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, howsoever Envy grudge their state,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their own bland laws democratize the great.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IV.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">With those fair orbs which lit her common air <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That which should be her guardian planet there <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now cold if radiant did the wife compare? <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">If so, alas we lose the Chaldee's power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To shape the life if we neglect the hour.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the crowd was now their only meeting—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They who from crowds should so have hail'd retreating.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in the crowd if eye encounter'd eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence came her blush, or wherefore heaved his sigh?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! woe when lost the Heavenly confidence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man's gentle right, and woman's strong defence!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the frank sunflower, Household Love to-day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must ope its leaves;—what shades it, brings decay.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>V.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The world look'd on, and construed, as it still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Interprets, all it knows not into ill.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 106]</span><span class="i0">"Man's home is sacred," flattering proverbs say;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes, if you give the home to men's survey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if that sanctum be obscured or screen'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In every shadow doubt suggests a fiend:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So churchyards seen beneath a daylight sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are holy to the clown who saunters by;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But vex his vision by the glimmering light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And straight the holiness expires in fright;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He hears a goblin in the whispering grass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cries "Heaven save us!"—at the Parson's ass!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Was ever Lord so newly wed so cold?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poor thing!—forsaken ere a year be told!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doubtless some wanton—whom we know not, true,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But those proud sinners are so wary too!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! for the good old days—one never heard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of men so shocking under George the Third!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So ran the gossip. With the gossip came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The brood it hatch'd—consolers to the dame.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soft and wily wooers, who begin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through sliding pity, the smooth ways to sin.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My lord is absent at the great debate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go, soothe his lady's unprotected state;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go, gallant,—go, and wish the cruel Heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To thee such virtue, now so wrong'd, had given!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes, round her flock'd the young world's fairest ones,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soft Rose-Garden's incense-breathing sons:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Roused from his calm, Lord Ruthven's watchful eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mark'd the new clouds that darken'd round his sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And raptured saw—though for his earth too far—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How fleets and fades each cloud before that stainless Star.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VI.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Now came the graver trial, though unseen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By him who knew not where the grief had been—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He knew not that an earlier love had steel'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her heart to his—that curse, at least conceal'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enough of sorrow in his lonely lot—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The why, what matter—that she loved him not?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">One night, when Revel was in Ruthven's hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He near'd the brilliant cynosure of all:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Deign" (thus he whisper'd) "to receive with grace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Him who may hold the honours of my race:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the last Ruthven dies, behold his heir!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He said, she turn'd—O Heaven!—and Harcourt there!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Harcourt the same as when her glance he charm'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For surer conquest by compassion arm'd—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The same, save where a softer shadow, cast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er his bright looks, reflected the sad Past!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 107]</span><span class="i0">Now, when unguarded and in crowds alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Future dark—the household gods o'erthrown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, when those looks (that seem, the while they grieve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ne'er to reproach)—can pity best deceive;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sole affection she of right can claim—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, Virtue, tremble not—the Tempter came!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">He came, resolved to triumph and avenge—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sure of a heart whose sorrow spoke no change;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pleased at the thought to bind again the chain—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For they who love not still can love to reign;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm in the deeper and more fell design<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To sever those whom outward fetters join—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To watch the discord Scandal rumours round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fret every sore, and fester every wound;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could he but make Dissension firm and sure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Success would render larger schemes secure;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Let Ruthven die but childless!" ran his prayer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the lover's sigh cold avarice prompts the heir.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He came and daily came, and daily schemed—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft, grave, and reverent, but the friend he seem'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These distant cousins, from their earliest days,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To different goals had trod their varying ways:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If Ruthven oft with generous hand supplied<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What were call'd luxuries, did Shoreditch decide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But what no Jury of Mayfair could doubt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are just the things life cannot live without;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet gifts are sometimes as offences view'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And envy is the mean man's gratitude;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, truth to own, whate'er the one bestow'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More from his own large, careless nature flow'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than through the channels tenderer sources send,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Favour equals—since it asks a Friend.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Ruthven loved not, in the days gone by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cold, quick shrewdness of that stealthy eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That spendthrift recklessness, which still was not<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The generous folly which itself forgot.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You love the prodigal; the miser loathe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet oft the clockwork is the same in both:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ope but the works—the penury and excess<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chime from one point—the central selfishness:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And though men said (for those, who wear with ease<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The vulgar vices, seldom much displease),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"His follies injure but himself alone!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His follies spared no welfare but his own:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mankind he deem'd the epitome of self,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And never laid that volume on the shelf.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 108]</span><span class="i0">Somewhat of this, had Ruthven mark'd before—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now he was less acute, or Harcourt more:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The first absorb'd in sorrow or in thought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The last in craft's smooth lessons deeper taught.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not over anxious to be undeceived<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ruthven reform in what was rot believed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They held the same opinions on the state,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And were congenial—in the last debate;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Harcourt had wish'd to join the patriot crew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who botch our old laws with a patch of new;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ruthven the wish approved; and found the seat—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so the Cousins' union grew complete.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Well then at board behold the constant guest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With love as yet by eyes alone exprest:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the past vows he dared not yet invoke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ancient Voice;—yet of the past he spoke.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whene'er expected least, he seem'd to glide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A faithful shadow to her haunted side.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But why relate how men their victims woo!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He left undone no art that can undo.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VIII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">And what deem'd Constance now, that, face to face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She could the contrast of the Portraits trace?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could see the image of the soul in each<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By thought reflected on the waves of speech—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could listen here (as when the Master's ease<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glides with light touch along melodious keys)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To those rich sounds which, flung to every gale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Genius awakes from Wisdom's music scale;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there admire when lively Fashion wound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its toy of small talk into jingling sound.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like those French trifles, elegant enough,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which serve at once for music and for snuff,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some minds there are which men you ask to dine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take out, wind up, and circle with the wine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two tunes they boast; this Flattery—Scandal that;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The one A sharp—the other something flat:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such was the mind that for display and use<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cased in <i>ricoco</i>, Harcourt could produce—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Touch the one spring, an air that charm'd the town<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tripp'd out and jigg'd some absent virtue down;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Touch next the other, and the bauble plays<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Fly from the world" or "Once in happier days."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Flattery, when a Woman's heart its aim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Writes itself <i>Sentiment</i>—a prettier name.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to be just to Harcourt and his art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Few Lauzuns better play'd a Werter's part;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 109]</span><span class="i0">He dress'd it well, and Nature kindly gave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His brow the paleness and his locks the wave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mournful his smile, unconscious seem'd his sigh;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You'd swear that Goethe had him in his eye.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well these had duped when young Romance surveys<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life's outlines—lost amid its own soft haze.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Compared with Ruthven still doth Harcourt seem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The true Hyperion of the Delian dream.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, ofttimes Love its own wild choice will blame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slip the blind bondage, yet doat on the same.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was it thus wilful, Constance, still with thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or did the reason set the fancy free?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3>PART THE FIFTH.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>I.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The later summer in that second spring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the turf glistens with the fairy ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When oak and elm assume a livelier green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And starry buds on water-flowers are seen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When parent nests the new-fledged goldfinch leaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And earliest song in airiest meshes weaves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When fields wave undulous with golden corn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And August fills his Amalthæan horn—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The later summer shone on Ruthven's towers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Lord and wife (with guests to cheer the hours,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not faced alone) to that grey pile return'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Harcourt with these, and Seaton, who had learn'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eno' to call him from his world of strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To watch that Home which makes the Woman's life.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not ev'n to Juliet Constance had betray'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those griefs the House-gods if they cause should shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor friendship now in truth the grief could share— <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">A dying parent needed Juliet's care, <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In climes where Death comes soft—in Tuscan air. <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And least to Seaton would his child have shown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One hidden wound; her heart still spared his own.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when the father trembling at her side<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saw the smooth tempter, not the watchful guide,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saw through the quicksands flow each sever'd life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here the cold Lord and there the courted wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then fearful, wrathful—yet uncertain still;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For warning ofttimes makes more sure the ill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or fires suspicion to believe the worst,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or bids temptation be more fondly nurst;—<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 110]</span><span class="i0">Nought ripens evil like too prompt a blame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And virtue totters if you sap its shame;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Uncertain thus came Seaton, with the rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His prudence watchful, and his fears supprest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Resolved to learn what fault, if fault were there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had outlaw'd Constance from a husband's care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And left the heart (the soul's frail fort) unbarr'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For youth to storm. "Well age," he sigh'd, "shall guard."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>II.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Meantime, the cheek of Constance lost its rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Food brought no relish, slumber no repose:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wasted form pined hour by hour away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But still the proud lip struggled to be gay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Ruthven still the proud lip could deceive,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the proud man forgot the proud in smiling grieve!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>III.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">In that old pile there was a huge square tower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence look'd the warder in its days of power;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still, in the arch below, the eye could tell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where on the steel-clad van the grim portcullis fell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from the arrow-headed casements, deep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sunk in the walls of the abandon'd keep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gaze look'd kingly in its wide command<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er all the features of the subject land;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From town and hamlet, copse and vale, arise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hundred spires of Ruthven's baronies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And town and hamlet, copse and vale, around,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its arms of peace the azure Avon wound.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IV.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">A lonely chamber in this rugged tower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lonely lady made her favourite bower—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From her more brilliant chambers crept a stair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, through a waste of ruin, ended there;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there, unseen, unwitness'd, none intrude,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor vex the spirit from the solitude.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How, in what toil or luxury of mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could she the solace or the Lethe find?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Music or books?—nay, rather, might be guess'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The art her maiden leisure loved the best;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For there the easel and the hues were brought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though all unseen the fictions that they wrought.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Harcourt more bold the change in Constance made;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sure, love lies hidden in that depth of shade!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That cheek how hueless, and that eye how dim,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Wherefore," he thought and smiled, "if not for him?"<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 111]</span><span class="i0">More now his manner and his words, disarm'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of their past craft, the anxious sire alarm'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">True, there was nought in Constance to reprove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But still what hypocrite like lawless love?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One eve, as in the oriel's arch'd recess<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pensive he ponder'd, linking guess with guess,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Words reach'd his ear—if indistinct—yet plain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enough to pierce the heart and chill the vein.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis Constance, answering in a faltering tone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some suit; and what—was by the answer shown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Yes!—in an hour," it said.—"Well, be it so."—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The place?"—"Yon keep."—"Thou wilt not fail me!"—"No!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis said;—she first, then Harcourt, quits the room.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Would," groan'd the Sire, "my child were in the tomb!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He gasp'd for breath, the fever on his brow—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Was it too late?—What boots all warning now?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If saved to-day—to-morrow, and the same <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Danger and hazard! had he spared the shame <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To leave the last lost Virtue but a name." <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>V.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Sickening and faint, he gain'd the outer air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reach'd the still lake, and saw the master there;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Listless lay Ruthven, droopingly the boughs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Veil'd from the daylight melancholy brows;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Listless he lay, and with indifferent eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Watch'd the wave darken as the cloud swept by.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The father bounded to the idler's side— <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Awake, cold guardian of a soul!" he cried; <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Why, sworn to cherish, fail'st thou ev'n to guide?" <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Why?" echoed Ruthven's heart—his eye shot flame—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Dare she complain, or he presume to blame?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus ran the thought, he spoke not;—silent long<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As Pride kept back the angry burst of wrong.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At length he rose, shook off the hand that prest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And calmly said, "I listen for the rest—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whatever charge be in thy words convey'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speak;—I will answer when the charge is made!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VI.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Like many an offspring of our Saxon clime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who makes one seven-day labour-week of time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who deems reprieve a sloth, repose a dearth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And strikes the Sabbath of the soul from earth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Seaton's life the Adam-curse was strong;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He loved each wind that whirl'd the sails along;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He loved the dust that wrapt the hurrying wheel;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, form'd to act, but rarely paused to feel.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 112]</span><span class="i0">Thus men who saw him move among mankind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saw the hard purpose and the scheming mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the skill'd steering of a sober brain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prudence the compass and the needle gain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now, each layer of custom swept away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Man's great nature leapt into the day:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He stretch'd his arms, and terrible and wild,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His voice went forth—"I gave thee, Man, my child;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I gave her young and innocent—a thing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fresh from the Heaven, no stain upon its wing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One form'd to love, and to be loved, and now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Few moons have faded since the solemn vow)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How do I find thou hast discharged the trust?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Account!—nay, frown not—to thy God thou must,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale, wretched, worn, and dying: Ruthven, still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These lips should bless thee, couldst thou only kill.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But is that all?—Death is a holy name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tears for the dead dishonour not!—but Shame!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O blind, to bid her every hour compare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With thine his love—with thy contempt his care!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, if the light'ning blast thee, I, the Sire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell thee thy heart of steel attracts the fire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hadst thou but loved her, that meek soul I know—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Know all"—His passion falter'd in its flow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He paused an instant, then before the feet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Ruthven fell. "Have mercy! Save her yet!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take back thy gold: say, did I not endure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And can again, the burthen of the poor?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But she—the light, pride, angel, of my life—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God speaks in me—O husband, save thy wife!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Save! and from whom, old Man?" Yet, as he spoke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A gleam of horror on his senses broke;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"From whom? What! know'st thou not who made the first,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though fading fancy, youth's warm visions nurst?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This Harcourt—this"—he stopp'd abrupt—appall'd!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those words how gladly had his lips recall'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For at the words—the name—all life seem'd gone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Ruthven's image:—as a shape of stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speechless and motionless he stood! At length<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The storm suspended burst in all its strength:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And this to me—at last to me!" he cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Thine be the curse, who hast love to hate allied:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why, when my life on that one hope I cast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why didst thou chain my future to her past—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why not a breath to say, 'She loved before;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pause yet to question, if the love be o'er!'<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 113]</span><span class="i0">Didst thou not know how well I loved her—how<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Worthy the Altar was the holy vow?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That in the wildest hour my suit had known,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hadst thou but said, 'Her heart is not her own,'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou hadst left the chalice with a taste of sweet?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I—I had brought the Wanderer to her feet—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had seen those eyes through grateful softness shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor turn'd—O God!—with loathing fear from mine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from the sunshine of her happy breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drawn one bright memory to console the rest!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now, thy work is done—till now, methought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was one plank to which the shipwreck'd caught.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forbearance—patience might obtain at last<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The distant haven—see! the dream is past—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She loves another! In that sentence—hark<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The crowning thunder!—the last gleam is dark;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time's wave on wave can but the more dissever;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The world's vast space one void for ever and for ever!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VIII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Humbled from all his anger, and too late<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Convinced whose fault had shaped the daughter's fate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The father heard; and in his hands he veil'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His face abash'd, and voice to courage fail'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For how excuse—and how console? And so,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As when the tomb shuts up the ended woe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over that burst of anguish closed the drear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Abyss of silence—sound's chill sepulchre!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At length he dared the timorous looks to raise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But gone the form on which he fear'd to gaze.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm at his feet the wave crept murmuring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm sail'd the cygnet with its folded wing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gently above his head the lime-tree stirr'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The green leaves rustling to the restless bird;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he who, in the beautiful of life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone with him should share the heart at strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had left him there to the earth's happy smile—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! if the storms within earth's calmness could beguile!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IX.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">With a swift step, and with disorder'd mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through which one purpose still its clue could find,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord Ruthven sought his home. "Yes, mine no more,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So mused his soul, "to hope or to deplore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more to watch the heart's Aurora break<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er that loved face, the light to life to speak—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more, without a weakness that degrades,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can Fancy steal from Truth's eternal shades!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 114]</span><span class="i0">Yes, we must part! But if one holier thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still guards that shrine my fated footstep sought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perchance, at least, I yet her soul may save,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leave her this one hope—a husband's grave!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>X.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Home gain'd, he asks—they tell him—her retreat:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He winds the stairs, and midway halts to meet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His rival passing from that mystic room,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a changed face, half sarcasm and half gloom.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Writhed Ruthven's lip—his hands he clench'd;—his breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaved with man's natural wrath; the wrath the man supprest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Her name, at least, I will not make the gage<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of that foul strife whose cause a husband's rage."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, with the calmness of his lion eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He glanced on Harcourt, and he pass'd him by.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>XI.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">And now he gains, and pauses at the door— <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why beats so loud the heart so stern before? <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He nerved his pride—one effort, and 'tis o'er. <span class='rbrace'>}</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus, with a quiet mien, he enters:—there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kneels Constance yonder—can she kneel in prayer?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What object doth that meek devotion chain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In yon dark niche? Before his steps can gain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her side, she starts, confused, dismay'd, and pale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And o'er the object draws the curtain veil.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But there the implements of art betray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What thus the conscience dare not give to day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A portrait? whose but his, the loved and lost,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a sweet past the melancholy ghost?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So Ruthven guess'd—more dark his visage grown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thus he spoke:—"Once more we meet alone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once more—be tranquil—hear me! not to upbraid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And not to threat, thy presence I invade;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if the pledge I gave thee I have kept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If not the husband's rights the wife hath wept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thou hast shared whatever gifts be mine—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wealth, honour, freedom, all unbought, been <small>THINE</small>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hear me—O hear me, for thy father's sake!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the full heart that thy disgrace would break!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By all thine early innocence—by all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The woman's Eden—wither'd with her fall—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I, whom thou hast denied the right to guide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Implore the daughter, not command the bride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Protect—nor only from the sin and shame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Protect from <i>slander</i>—thine, my Mother's—name!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For hers thou bearest now! and in her grave<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 115]</span><span class="i0">Her name thou honourest, if thine own thou save!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know thou lov'st another! Dost thou start?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From him, as me—the time hath come to part;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ere for ever I relieve thy view—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The one thou lov'st must be an exile too.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be silent still, and fear not lest my voice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Betray thy secret—Flight shall seem <i>his</i> choice;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fair excuse—a mission to some clime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where—weep'st thou still? For thee there's hope in time!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This heart is not of iron, and the worm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That gnaws the thought, soon ravages the form;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then, perchance, thy years may run the course<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which flows through love undarken'd by remorse.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now, farewell for ever!" As he spoke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From her cold silence with a bound she broke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And clasp'd his hand. "Oh, leave me not! or know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before thou goest, the heart that wrong'd thee so,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But wrongs no more."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">"No more?—Oh, spurn the lie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Harcourt but now hath left thee! Well—deny!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Yes, he hath left me!" "And he urged the suit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That—but thou madden'st me! false lips, be mute!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—"He urged the suit—it is for ever o'er;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dead with the folly youth's crude fancies bore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One word, nay less, one gesture" (and she blush'd)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Struck dumb the suit, the scorn'd presumption crush'd."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—"What! and yon portrait curtain'd with such care?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"There did I point and say '<i>My heart is there</i>!'"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Amazed, bewilder'd—struggling half with fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And half delight—his steps the curtain near.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He lifts the veil: that face—It is his own!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But not the face her later gaze had known;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not stern, nor sad, nor cold,—but in those eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wooing softness love unmix'd supplies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fond smile beaming the glad lips above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright as when radiant with the words "I love."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An instant mute—oh, canst thou guess the rest?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The next his Constance clinging to his breast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All from the proud reserve, at once allied<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the girl's modesty, the woman's pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Melting in sobs and happy tears—and words<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swept into music from long-silent chords.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then came the dear confession, full at last.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then stream'd life's Future on the fading Past;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as a sudden footstep nears the door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As a third shadow dims the threshold floor—<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 116]</span><span class="i0">As Seaton, entering in his black despair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pauses the tears, the joy, the heaven to share—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The happy Ruthven raised his princely head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Give her again—this day in truth we wed!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">And when the spring the earth's fresh glory weaves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In merry sunbeams and green quivering leaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A joy-bell ringing through a cloudless air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knells Harcourt's hopes and welcomes Ruthven's heir.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnotes"> +<h4>FOOTNOTES</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_26" id="Footnote_A_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_26"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Imitated from Horace (Lib. ii., Od. 3). +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quà pinus ingens albaque populus<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Umbram hospitalem consociare amant<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ramis, et obliquo laborat<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lympha fugax trepidare rivo.—<i>Horat. Carm.</i>, ii. 3.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_27" id="Footnote_B_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_27"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Schiller.</p></div> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 117]</span></p> +<h2>MILTON.<br /><br /> + +IN FOUR PARTS.</h2> + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 118]</span></p> +<h4>ADVERTISEMENT TO THE READER.</h4> + +<p>This Poem was originally composed in very early youth. It was first +published in 1831, and though unfortunately coupled with a very jejune and +puerile burlesque called 'The Siamese Twins' (which to my great satisfaction +has been long since forgotten), it was honoured by a very complimentary +notice in the <i>Edinburgh Review</i>, and found general favour with those who +chanced to read it. In the present edition, although the conception and the +general structure remain the same, many passages have been wholly re-written, +and the diction throughout carefully revised, and often materially +altered. I have sought, in short, from an affection for the subject (too partial +it may be) to give to the ideas which visited me in the freshness of youth, +whatever aid from expression they could obtain in the taste and culture of +mature manhood. No doubt, however, faults of exuberance in form, as in +fancy, still remain, and betray the age in which we scarcely look beyond the +Spring that delights us, nor comprehend that the multitude of the blossoms +can be injurious to the bearing of the tree. Nevertheless, such faults may +find more indulgence among my younger readers than those of an opposite +nature, incident to the style, closer and more compressed, which my present +theories of verse have led me to adopt in most of the poems I have +composed of late years.</p> + +<p>It will be observed that the design of this poem is that of a picture. It is +intended to portray the great Patriot Poet in the three cardinal divisions +of life—Youth, Manhood, and Age. The first part is founded upon the well-known, +though ill-authenticated, tradition of the Italian lady or ladies seeing +Milton asleep under a tree in the gardens of his college, and leaving some +tributary verses beside the sleeper. Taking full advantage of this legend, and +presuming to infer from Milton's Italian verses (as his biographers have done +before me) that in his tour through Italy he did not escape the influence of the +master passion, I have ventured to connect, by a single thread of romantic +fiction, the segments of a poem in which narrative after all is subservient to +description. This idea belongs to the temerity of youth, but I trust it has +been subjected to restrictions more reverent than those ordinarily imposed on +poetic licence.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 119]</span></p> +<h2><a name="MILTON" id="MILTON"></a>MILTON.</h2> + +<h3>PART THE FIRST.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">"Such sights as youthful poets dream<br /></span> +<span class="i4">On summer eve by haunted stream."—<span class="smcap">L'Allegro.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>I.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">It was the Minstrel's merry month of June;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silent and sultry glow'd the breezeless noon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the flowers the bee went murmuring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life in its myriad forms was on the wing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Play'd on the green leaves with the quiv'ring beam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sang from the grove, and sparkled from the stream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, where yon beech-tree veil'd the soft'ning ray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On violet-banks young Milton dreaming lay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">For him the Earth below, the Heaven above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doubled each charm in the clear glass of youth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the vague spirit of unsettled love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Roved through the visions that precede the truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Poesy's low voice so hymn'd through all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ev'n the very air was musical.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>II.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The sunbeam rested, where it pierced the boughs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On locks whose gold reflected back the gleaming;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Thought's fair temple in majestic brows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Love's bright portal—lips that smiled in dreaming.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Dreams he of Nymph half hid in sparry cave?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or of his own Sabrina chastely "sitting<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the glassy cool translucent wave,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The loose train of her amber tresses knitting?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or that far shadow, yet but faintly view'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the Four Rivers take their parent springs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which shall come forth from starry solitude,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the last days of angel-visitings,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 120]</span><span class="i0">When, soaring upward from the nether storm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Heaven of Heavens shall earthly guest receive,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the long-lost Eden smile thy form,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fairer than all thy daughters, fairest Eve?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>III.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Has the dull Earth a being to compare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With those that haunt that spirit-world—the brain?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can shapes material vie with forms of air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nature with Phantasy?—O question vain!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, by the Dreamer, fresh from heavenly hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Youth's dream-inspirer—Virgin Woman stands.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She came, a stranger from the Southern skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And careless o'er the cloister'd garden stray'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till, pausing, violets on the bank to cull,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the Dreamer bent the Beautiful.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Silent, with lifted hand and lips apart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silent she stood, and gazed away her heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like purple Mænad fruits, when down the glade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shoots the warm sunbeam,—into darksome glow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light kiss'd the ringlets wreathing brows of snow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And softer than the rosy hues that flush<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her native heaven, when Tuscan morns arise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sweet cheek brighten'd with the sweeter blush,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As virgin love from out delighted eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dawn'd as Aurora dawns.—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Thus look'd the maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still the sleeper dream'd beneath the shade.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Image of Soul and Love! So Psyche crept<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the still chamber where her Eros slept;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the light gladden'd round his face serene,<a name="FNanchor_A_28" id="FNanchor_A_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_28" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">As light doth ever,—when Love first is seen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Felt he the touch of her dark locks descending,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or with his breath her breathing fused and blending,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, like a bird we startle from the spray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pass'd the light Sleep with sudden wings away?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sighing he woke, and waking he beheld;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sigh was silenced, as the look was spell'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look charming look, the love that ever lies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In human hearts, like light'ning in the air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flash'd in the moment from those meeting eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And open'd all the Heaven!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">O Youth, beware!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For either, light should but forewarn the gaze;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Woe follows love, as darkness doth the blaze!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 121]</span></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IV.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">And their eyes met—one moment and no more;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moment in time that centred years in feeling.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As when to Thetis, on her cavern'd shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knelt her young King,—he rose, and murmur'd, kneeling.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low though the murmur, it dissolved the charm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which had in silence chain'd the modest feet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And maiden shame and woman's swift alarm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crimson'd her cheek and in her pulses beat:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She turn'd, and, as a spell that leaves the place<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It fill'd with phantom beauty cold and bare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She fled;—and over disenchanted space<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rush'd back the common air!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>V.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Time waned—and thoughts intense, and grave and high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With sterner truths foreshadow'd Minstrel dreams;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet never vanish'd from the Minstrel's eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That meteor blended with the morning beams.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time waned, and ripe became the long desire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which, nursed in youth, with restless manhood grew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A passion—to behold that heart of Earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet trembling with the silver Mantuan lyre,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To knightly arms by Tasso tuned anew:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So the fair Pilgrim left his father's hearth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into his soul he drunk the lofty lore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Floating like air around the clime of song;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beheld the starry sage,<a name="FNanchor_B_29" id="FNanchor_B_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_29" class="fnanchor">[B]</a> what time he bore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For truth's dear glory the immortal wrong;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Communed majestic with majestic minds;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the glorious wanderer heard or saw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or felt or learn'd or dream'd, were as the winds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That swell'd the sails of his triumphant soul;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As then, ev'n then, with ardour yet in awe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It swept Time's ocean to its distant goal.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VI.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">It was the evening—and a group were strewn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er such a spot as ye, I ween, might see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When basking in the summer's breathless noon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With upward face beneath the drowsy tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While golden dreams the willing soul receives,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Elf-land glimmers through the checkering leaves.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">It was the evening—still it lay, and fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lapp'd in the quiet of the lulling air;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 122]</span><span class="i0">Still, but how happy! like a living thing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All love itself—all love around it seeing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And drinking from the earth, as from a spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hush'd delight and essence of its being.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And round the spot (a wall of glossy shade)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The interlaced and bowering trees reposed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And through the world of foliage had been made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Green lanes and vistas, which at length were closed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By fount, or fane, or statue white and hoar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Startling the heart with the fond dreams of yore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And near, half-glancing through its veil of leaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An antique temple stood in marble grace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where still, if fondly wise, the heart conceives<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faith in the lingering Genius of the Place:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seen wandering yet perchance at earliest dawn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or greyest eve—with Nymph or bearded Faun.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dainty with mosses was the grass you press'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through which the harmless lizard glancing crept.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And—wearied infants on Earth's gentle breast—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In every nook the little field-flowers slept.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ever when the soft air draws its breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Breeze is a word too rude), with half-heard sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From orange-shrubs and myrtles—wandereth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Grove's sweet Dryad borne in fragrance by.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And aye athwart the alleys fitfully<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glanced the fond moth enamour'd of the star;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And aye, from out her watch-tower in the tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The music which a falling leaf might mar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So faint—so faëry seem'd it—of the bird<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Transform'd at Daulis thrillingly was heard.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the centre of that spot, which lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A ring embosom'd in the wood's embrace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fountain, clear as ever glass'd the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breathed yet a fresher luxury round the place;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now it slept, as if its silver shower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the wide reach of its aspiring sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were far too harsh for that transparent hour:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet—like a gnome that mourneth underground—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You caught the murmur of the rill which gave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The well's smooth calm the passion of its wave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'n as man's heart that still, with secret sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stirs through each thought that would reflect the sky.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">And, group'd around the fountain, forms were seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shaped as for courts in loving Chivalry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such as Boccacio placed, 'mid alleys green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Listening to tales in careless Fiesolé!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 123]</span><span class="i0">Dress'd as for nymphs, the classic banquet there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was spread on grassy turfs, with coolest fruit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And drinks Falernian—while the mellow air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaved to the light swell of the amorous lute;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by the music lovers grew more bold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Beauty blush'd to secrets, murmuring told.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VIII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">But 'mid that graceful meeting, there were none<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who yielded not to him—that English guest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor by sweet lips, half wooing to be won,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were words that thrill and smiles that sigh suppress'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fair with lofty brow, and locks of gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And manhood stately with a Dorian grace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He seem'd like some young Spartan, when of old<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The simple sons of thoughtful Hercules<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Elis stood, and look'd the lords of Greece.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! little dream'd those flatterers as they gazed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On him—the radiant cynosure of all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While on their eyes his youth's fresh glory blazed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What that bright heart was destined to befall!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That worst of wars—the Battle of the Soil—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which leaves but Crime unscath'd on either side!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The daily fever, and the midnight toil;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hope defeated, and the name belied;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wrath's fierce attack, and Slander's slower art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The watchful viper of the evil tongue;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sting which pride defies, but not the heart—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The noblest heart is aye the easiest wrung:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The flowers, the fruit, the summer of rich life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cast on the sands and weariest paths of earth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The march—but not the action—of the strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without;—and Sorrow coil'd around his hearth:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The film, the veil, the shadow, and the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along those eyes which now in all survey<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A tribute and a rapture;—the despite<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Fortune wreak'd on his declining day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The clouds slow-labouring upward round his heart;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! little dream'd they this!—nor less what light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should through those clouds—a new-born glory—start;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from the spot man's mystic Father trod,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Circling the round Earth with a solemn ray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cast its great shadow to the Throne of God!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IX.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The festive rite was o'er—the group was gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet still our wanderer linger'd there alone—<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 124]</span><span class="i0">For round his eye, and in his heart, there lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tender spells which cleave to solitude.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, when some gay delight hath pass'd away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feels not a charmèd musing in his mood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A poesy of thought, which yearns to pour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still worship to the Spirit of the Hour?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! they who bodied into deity<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rosy Hours, I ween, did scarcely err.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet hours, ye <i>have</i> a life, and holily<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That life is worn! and when no rude sounds stir<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The quiet of our hearts—we inly hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hymnlike music of your floating voices,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Telling us mystic tidings of the sphere<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where hand in hand your linkèd choir rejoices,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And filling us with calm and solemn thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Diviner far than all our earth-born lore hath taught.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">With folded arms and upward brow, he leant<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against the pillar of a sleeping tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, hark! the still boughs rustled, and there went<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A murmur and a sigh along the air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a light footstep, like a melody,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pass'd by the flowers. He turn'd;—What Nymph is there?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What Hamadryad from the green recess<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Emerging into beauty like a star?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He gazed—sweet Heaven! 'tis she whose loveliness<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had in his England's gardens first (and far<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From these delicious groves) upon him beam'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And look'd to life the wonders he had dream'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i2">* * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i2">* * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i2">* * * * * *<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>X.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">They met again and oft! what time the Star<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Hesperus hung his rosy lamp on high;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love's earliest beacon, from our storms afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lit in the loneliest watch-tower of the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perchance by souls that, ere this world was made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were the first lovers the first stars survey'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Mystery o'er their twilight meeting threw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The charm that nought like mystery doth bestow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her name—her birth—her home he never knew;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she—<i>his</i> love was all she sought to know.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 125]</span><span class="i0">And when in anxious or in tender mood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He pray'd her to disclose at least her name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A look from her the unwelcome prayer subdued<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So sad the cloud that o'er her features came:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her lip grew blanch'd, as with an ominous fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all her heart seem'd trembling in her tear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So worshipp'd he in silence and sweet wonder,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pleased to confide, contented not to know;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Hope, life's checkering moonlight, smiled asunder<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doubts, which, like clouds, rise ever from below.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thus his love grew daily, and perchance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was all the stronger circled by romance.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He found a name for her, if not her own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haply as soft, and to her heart as dear—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Zoe"—name stolen from the tuneful Greek,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It meaneth 'life,' when common lips do speak—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And more on those that love;—sweet language known<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To lovers, sacred to themselves alone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Words, like Egyptian symbols, set apart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the mysterious Priesthood of the Heart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Creep slowly on, O charm'd reluctant Time—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rarely so hallow'd, Time, creep slowly on—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'n I would linger in my truant rhyme,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor tell too soon how soon those hours were gone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flowers bloom again—leaves glad once more the tree—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poor life, there comes no second Spring to thee!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3>PART THE SECOND.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">"Protinus insoliti subierunt corda furores,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Uror amans intus, flammaque totus eram.<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Interea misero quæ jam mihi sola placebat<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Ablata est oculis non reditura meis."—<span class="smcap">Milt. Eleg. vii.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>I.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Who shall dispart the Poet's golden threads,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the fine tissues of Philosophy?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mounts to one goal, each guess that <i>upward</i> leads,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether it soar in some impassion'd sigh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or some still thought; alike, it doth but tend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Light that draws it heavenward.—'Tis but one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great law that from the violet lifts the dew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At dawn and twilight to the amorous sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or calls the mist, which navies glimmer through,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the vast hush of an unfathom'd sea.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 126]</span><span class="i0">The Athenian guess'd that when our souls descend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From some lost realm (sad aliens here to be),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dim broken memories of the state before<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Form what we call our 'reason';<a name="FNanchor_C_30" id="FNanchor_C_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_30" class="fnanchor">[C]</a>—nothing taught<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But all remember'd;—gleams from elder lore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pallid revivals of sublimer thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which, though by fits and dreamily recall'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make all the light our sense receives below;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the vague hues down-floating—disenthrall'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From their bright birthplace, the lost Iris-bow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Is this Philosophy or Song? Why ask?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How judge?—The instant that we leave the ground<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the hard Positive, who saith "I <i>know</i>?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Conjecture, fancy, faith—'tis <i>these</i> we task,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Reason passes but an inch the bound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In which our senses draw the captive's breath.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And never yet Philosopher severe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strove for a glimpse beyond the Bridge of Death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But straight he enter'd on that atmosphere<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poets illume:—Let Logic prove the Known;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Truths that we know not, if we would explore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We must imagine! Link, then, evermore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Together—each so desolate alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Poesy, O Knowledge!—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Is not Love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all those memories which to parent skies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mount struggling back—(as to their source above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In upward showers, imprison'd founts arise;)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, is not Love the strongest and the clearest?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love, and thine eyes instinctive seek the Heaven;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love, and a hymn from every star thou hearest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love, and a world beyond the sense is given;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love, and how many a glorious sleeping power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wakes in thy breast and lifts thyself from thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love, and, till then so wedded to the Hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy thoughts go forth and ask Eternity!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Lose what thou lovest, and the life of old<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is from thine eyes, O soul, no more conceal'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look beyond Death, and through thy tears behold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, where Love goes—thine ancient home reveal'd.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>II.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The lovers met in twilight and in stealth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like to the Roc-bird in the Orient Tale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That builds its nest in pathless pinnacles,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 127]</span><span class="i0">And there collects and there conceals the wealth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which paves the surface of the Diamond Vale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love hoards aloof the glories that it stealeth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gems, but found in life's enchanted dells,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On airy heights that kiss the heaven concealeth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">All nature was a treasury which their hearts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rifled and coin'd in passion; the soft grass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bee's blue palace in the violet's bell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sighing leaves which, as the day departs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The light breeze stirreth with a gentle swell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stiller boughs blent in one emerald mass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence, rarely floating liquid Eve along,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some unseen linnet sent its vesper song;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All furnish'd them with images and words,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thoughts which spoke not, but lay hush'd like prayer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their love made life one melody, like birds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And circled earth with its own rosy air.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What in that lovely climate doth the breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Interpret not into some sound of love?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Canst thou ev'n gaze upon the hues that rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the god's smile, upon the pictured dream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Limn'd on mute canvas by the golden Claude,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor feel thy pulses as to music move?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor feel thy soul by some sweet presence awed?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor know that presence by its light,—and deem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Landscape breathing with a Voice Divine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Love, for the land on which ye gaze is mine?"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>III.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">But all round them was <i>life</i>—the <i>living</i> scene,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The real sky, and earth, and wave, and air:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The turf on which Egeria's steps had been,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shade, stream, grotto, which had known her care.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still o'er them floated an inspiring breath—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fragrance and the melody of song—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The legend—glory—verse—that vanquish'd death<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still through the orange glades were borne along,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sunk into their souls to swell the hoard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of those rich thoughts the miser Passion stored!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IV.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">But <i>they</i> required no fuel to the flame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which burn'd within them, all undyingly;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No scene to steep <i>their</i> passion in romance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No spell from <i>outward</i> nature to enhance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The nature at their bosoms: all the same<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their love had been if cast upon a rock,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And frown'd on from the Arctic's haggard sky.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 128]</span><span class="i0">Nay, ev'n the vices and the cares, which move<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like waves o'er that foul ocean of dull life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That rolls through cities in a sullen strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With heaven, had raged on them, nor in the shock<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crumbled one atom from their base of love.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, like still waters, poesy lay deep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within the hush'd yet haunted soul of each;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the fair moon, and all the stars that steep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaven's silence and its spirit in delight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had with that tide a sympathy and speech!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For them there was a glory in the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A whisper in the forest, and the air;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love is the priest of Nature, and can teach<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A world of mystery to the few that share,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With self-devoted faith, the wingèd Flamen's care.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>V.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">In <i>each</i> lay poesy—for Woman's heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nurses the stream, unsought, and oft unseen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if it flow not through the tide of art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor woo the glittering daylight—you may ween<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It slumbers, but not ceases; and, if check'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The egress of rich words, it flows in thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in its silent mirror doth reflect<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whate'er Affection to its banks has brought.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This makes her love so glowing and so tender,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dyeing it in such deep and dreamlike hues;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth—Heaven—creative Genius—all that render,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In man, their wealth and homage to the muse;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do but, in <i>her</i>, enrich the heart, and throng<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To centre there what men disperse in song.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O treasure! which awhile the world outweighs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That blessèd human heart Youth calls its own!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Measure the space some envied Cæsar sways<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With that which stretches from the heavenly throne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into the Infinite;—and then compare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All after-conquests in the dim and dull<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bounds of the Real, with the realms that were<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Youth's, when its reign was o'er the Beautiful!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He who loves nobly and is nobly loved<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is lord of the Ideal. Could it last!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It doth—it doth! lasts mournful but unmoved,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the still Ghost-land that reflects the Past.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Age will forget its wintry yesterday,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But not one sunbeam that rejoiced its May;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Showing, perchance, that all which we resume<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of this hard life, beyond the Funeral River,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are the fair blossoms of the age of bloom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hearts mourn most the things that live for ever.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 129]</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VI.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Twice glided through her course the wandering Queen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who rules the stars and deeps, since first they met.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis eve once more, that earliest hour, serene<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the last light, before the sun hath set;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Zoe waits her lover on the hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waits, looking forth afar:—The parting ray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the reluctant Day-god linger'd still;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aslant it glinted through the pinewood boughs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Broadly to rest upon the ruins grey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That at her feet in desolate glory lay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through chasm and chink, the myrtle's glossy green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Votive of old to Cytheræa's brows—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rose over wrecks, and smiled: And there, like Grief<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Close-neighbouring Love, the aloe forced between<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Myrtle with myrtle clasp'd—its barbèd leaf.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Zoe stands, the Cæsar's Palace stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from that lofty terrace ye survey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Naked within their thunder-riven tomb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bones of that dead Titaness call'd Rome.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond, the Tiber, through the Latian Plain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With many a lesser sepulchre bestrew'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mourn'd songless onward to the Tyrrhene main;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Around, in amphitheatre afar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hills lay basking in the purple sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till all grew grey, and Maro's shepherd-star<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look'd through the silence with a loving eye.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And soft from silver clouds stole forth the Moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hush'd as if still she watch'd Endymion.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i2">* * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i2">* * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i2">* * * * * *<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">They sate them on a fallen column, where<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wild acanthus clomb the shatter'd stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mocking the sculptured mimicry—which there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was graven on the pillar'd pomp o'erthrown,<a name="FNanchor_D_31" id="FNanchor_D_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_31" class="fnanchor">[D]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flowerless, if green, the herbage type-like decks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Art that will flower not over Glory's wrecks.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Ah, doth not Heaven seem near us when alone?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How air and moonbeam interchange delight!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How like the homeward bird my soul hath flown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unto its rest!—O glorious is the night,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 130]</span><span class="i0">Glorious with stars, and starry thoughts, and Thee!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her sweet voice paused; then from the swelling heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sigh'd—"Joy to meet, but O despair to part!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"And wherefore part? Out of all time to me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou cam'st emerging from the depth of dreams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As rose the Venus from her native sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And at thy coming, Light with all his beams<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illumed Creation's golden Jubilee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What, if my life be wrench'd from youth too soon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To find in duty Manhood's troubled doom,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, where yon star clings ever through the gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fast by the labouring melancholy moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So shine, unsever'd from thy pilgrim's side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gift his soul with an immortal bride."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trembling she heard—no answer but a sigh—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sighing, still trembled; tenderly he raised<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her downcast cheek, and sought the wish'd-for eye.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the long lashes hung slow-gathering tears:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that subdued, despondent thought which wears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Woe, as a Nun the fatal funeral veil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silent and self-consuming—cast its gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er the sad face yet sadder for its bloom.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He gazed, and felt within him, as he gazed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His heart beneath the dire foreboding quail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'n as the gifted melancholy seer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knows by his shudder when a grief is near.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Thou answerest not—yet my soul trusts in thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Albeit—as if for child of earth too fair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy love vouchsafed, thy life conceal'd from me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nymph-like, thou comest out of starry air,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I, content the Beautiful to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Presumed till now no hardier human prayer.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now, the spell the hour appointed breaks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now in these lips a power that thralls me speaks;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I seek mine England, canst thou leave thy Rome?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Start not—but let this hand still rest in thine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Canst thou not say 'thy home shall be my home,'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Canst thou not say 'thy People shall be mine?'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VIII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Wildly she falter'd, starting from his breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"What dost thou ask—must it all end in this!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Art thou not happy, Ingrate? Rest, O, rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">England has toil—Italia happiness!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as she spoke—a loftier light than pride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flash'd from his eye, and thus the <span class="smcap">man</span> replied,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Hear and approve me—In my father's land<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Age-long have men, as Heathens, bow'd the knee<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 131]</span><span class="i0">To the dire Statue with the sceptred hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which Force enthrones for Thought's idolatry.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now I hear the signal-sound afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the first clarion waking sleep to war,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When slumbering armies gird a doomèd town.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dread with the whirlwind, glorious with the light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strong with the thunderbolt, comes rushing down<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Truth</span>:—Let the mountains reel beneath her might!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vigour and health her angry wings dispense,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And speed the storm, to clear the pestilence.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For this, at morn, when through the gladd'ning air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Larks rise to heaven—arose my freeman's prayer.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For this, has Night in solemn prophet-dreams<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Limn'd Time's great morrow—now its day-star gleams!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, ere I loved thee, ere a sigh had ask'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'n if the love of woman were for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Shape of queenlier grief than ever task'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The votive hearts of antique Chivalry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Born to command the sword, inspire the song,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unveil'd her beauty, and reveal'd her wrong.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Cause she pleads for with the world began;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The realm torn from her is the Soul of Man—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And her great name despoil'd is—Liberty!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now she calls me with imperial voice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Homeward o'er land and ocean to her cause;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sworn to her service at mine own free choice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall I be recreant when the sword she draws?"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IX.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">She look'd upon that brow so fair and high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too bright for sorrow as too bold for fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She look'd upon the depth of that large eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence (ev'n when lost to daylight) starry clear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shone earth's sublimest soul;—then tremblingly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On his young arm her gentle hand she laid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the simple movement more was said<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the weak woman's heart, than ever yet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of that sweet mystery man's rude speech hath told.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The touch rebuked him as he thrill'd to it;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back to their deep the stormier passions roll'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And left his brow (as when the heaven above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smiles through departing cloud) serene with love.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Come then—companion in this path sublime;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Link life with life, and strengthen soul with soul;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If vain the hope that lights the onward time;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If back to darkness fade the phantom goal;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If Dreams, that now seem prophet-visions, be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dreams, and no more—still let me cling to thee!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 132]</span><span class="i0">Still, seeing thee, have faith in human worth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And feel the Beautiful yet lives for earth!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, though from marble domes and myrtle bowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, though to lowly roofs and northern skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In its own fancies Love has regal towers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And orient sunbeams in belovèd eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trust me, whatever fate my soul may gall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou at thy woman-choice shalt ne'er repine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trust me, whatever storm on me may fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This man's true breast shall ward the bolt from thine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hark, where the bird from yon dark ilex breathes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soul into night,—so be thy love to me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look, where around the bird the ilex wreathes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still, sheltering boughs,—so be my love to thee!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O dweller in my heart, the music thine!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the deep shelter—wilt thou scorn it? mine!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He ceased, and drew her closer to his breast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft from the ilex sang the nightingale:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy heart, O woman, in its happy rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hush'd a diviner tale!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And o'er her bent her lover; and the gold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of his rich locks with her dark tresses blended;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still, and calm, and tenderly, the lone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mellowing night upon their forms descended;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thus, amid the ghostly walls of old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seen through that silvery, moonlit, lucent air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They seem'd not wholly of an earth-born mould,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But suited to the memories breathing there—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two Genii of the mix'd and tender race,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their charmèd homes in lonely coverts singling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Last of their order, doom'd to haunt the place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bear sweet being interfused and mingling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Draw through their life the same delicious breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fade together into air in death.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! what then burn'd within her, as her fond<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pure lips yearn'd to breathe the enduring vow?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All was forgot, save him before her now—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A blank, a non-existence, lay beyond—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All was forgot—all feeling, thought, but this—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ever parted, or for ever his!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The voice just stirs her lip—what sound is there?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cleft stone sighing to the curious air?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The night-bird rustling, or the fragment's fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft amid weeds, from Cæsar's ruin'd wall?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i2">* * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i2">* * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i2">* * * * * *<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 133]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From his embrace abrupt the maiden sprang<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With low wild cry despairing:—In the shade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of that dark tree where still the night-bird sang,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stood a stern image statue-like, and made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A shadow in the shadow;—locks of snow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crown'd, with the awe of age, the solemn brow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lofty its look with passionless command,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As some old chief's of grand inhuman Rome:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm from its stillness moved the beckoning hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And low from rigid lips it murmur'd "Come!"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">* * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i2">* * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i2">* * * * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i2">* * * * * *<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3>PART THE THIRD.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">"I argue not<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of heart or hope, but still bear up, and steer<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The conscience, friend."—<small>MILTON'S</small> <i>Sonnet to Cyriack Skinner</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>I.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Years have flown by;—and Strife hath raged and ceased;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still on the ear the halted thunder rings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still in halls, where purple tyrants feast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glares the red warning to inebriate kings.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Midnight is past: the lamp with steadfast light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A silent cell, a mighty toil illumes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hot and lurid on the student's sight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flares the still ray which, like himself, consumes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its life in gilding darkness. Damp and chill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gather the dews on aching temples wan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wrung from the frame which fails the unconquer'd will<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the fierce struggle between soul and man.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>II.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Alas! no more to golden palaces,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To starlit founts and dryad-haunted trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The <small>SWEET DELUSION</small> wafts the dreamy soul;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But with slow step and steadfast eyes that strain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dazzled and scathed, towards the far-flaming goal<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He braved the storm, and labour'd up the plain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O doubtful labour, but O glorious pain!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the doom'd sight the gradual darkness steals<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bates he a jot of heart and hope?—he feels<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 134]</span><span class="i0">But in his loss a world's eternal gain.<a name="FNanchor_E_32" id="FNanchor_E_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_32" class="fnanchor">[E]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blame we or laud the Cause, all human life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is grander by one grand self-sacrifice;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While earth disputes if righteous be the strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The martyr soars beyond it to the skies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes, though when Freedom had her temple won<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She rear'd a scaffold to obscure a shrine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, by the human sacrifice of one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sullied the million,—who could then define<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The subtle tints where good and evil blend?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There comes no rainbow when the floods descend!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, just escaped the chain and prison-bar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Halts on the bridge to guess where glides the stream;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who plays the casuist 'mid the roar of war;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or in the arena builds the Academe?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whate'er their errors, lightly those condemn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, had they felt not, fought not, glow'd and err'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had left us what their fathers left to them—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Either the thraldom of the passive herd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stall'd for the shambles at the master's word,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or the dread overleap of walls that close,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And spears that bristle:—And the last they chose.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm from the hills their children gaze to-day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And breathe the airs to which they forced the way.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>III.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">And thou, of whom I sing—what should we all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whate'er our state-creed, venerate in thee?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Purpose heroic; and majestical<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Disdain of self;—the soul in which we see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Conviction, welding, from the furnace-zeal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Duty, the iron mainspring of the mind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ardour, if fierce, yet fired for England's weal;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And man's strong heart-throb beating for mankind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These move our homage, doubtful though we be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If ev'n thy pen acquits the headman's steel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When thy page cites the crownless Dead—and pleads<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Defence for nations in a judgeless cause:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Judgeless, for time shall ne'er decide what deeds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Damn or absolve the hosts whom Freedom leads<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er the pale border-land of dying laws<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into the vague world of Necessity.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 135]</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IV.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">He lifts his look where on the lattice bar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through clouds fast gathering, shines a single star;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Large on the haze of his receding sight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It spreads, and spreads, and floods all space with light;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nature's last glorious mournful smile on him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'n while on earth so near the Seraphim.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now from the blaze he veils with tremulous hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The scorching eyes:—and now the starlight fades:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Midnight and cloud resettle on the Land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And o'er her champion's vision rush the shades.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">What rests to both?—the inner light that glows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out from the gloom that Fate on each bestows;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is no <small>PRESENT</small> to a hope sublime;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man has eternity, and Nations time!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3>PART THE FOURTH.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">"Thus with the year<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Seasons return, but not to me returns<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But cloud instead, and ever-during dark<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Surrounds me."—<i>Paradise Lost, Book III.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">"Though fall'n on evil days,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In darkness, and with danger compass'd round,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And solitude; yet not alone, while thou<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Visit'st my slumbers nightly, or when morn<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Purples the east."—<i>Paradise Lost, Book VII.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>I.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Its gay farewell to hospitable eaves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The swallow twitter'd in the autumn heaven;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dumb on the crisp earth fell the yellowing leaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, in small eddies, fitfully were driven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down the bleak waste of the remorseless air.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out, from the widening gaps in dreary boughs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone the laurel smiled,—as freshly fair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As its own chaplet on immortal brows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Fame, indifferent to the changeful sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sees waning races wither, and lives on.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An old man sate before that deathless tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which bloom'd his humble dwelling-place beside;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The last pale rose which lured the lingering bee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the low porch it scantly blossom'd o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nipp'd by the frost-air had that morning died.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 136]</span><span class="i0">The clock faint-heard beyond the gaping door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low as a death-watch, click'd the moments' knell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And through the narrow opening you might see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Uncertain foot-prints on the sanded floor<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Uncertain foot-prints which of blindness tell);<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rude oak board, the morn's untasted fare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The scatter'd volumes and the pillow'd chair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In which, worn out with toil and travel past,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life, the poor wanderer, finds repose at last.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>II.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The old man felt the fresh air o'er him blowing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waving thin locks from musing temples pale;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Felt the quick sun through cloud and azure going,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the light dance of leaves upon the gale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In that mysterious symbol-change of earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which looks like death, though but restoring birth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seasons return; for him shall not return<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whatever garb the mighty mother wore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nature to him was changeless evermore.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">List, not a sigh!—though fall'n on evil days,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With darkness compass'd round—those sightless eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Need not the sun; nightly he sees the rays,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nightly he walks the bowers of Paradise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High, pale, still, voiceless, motionless, alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death-like in calm as monumental stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lifting his looks into the farthest skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He sate: And as when some tempestuous day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dies in the hush of the majestic eve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So on his brow—where grief has pass'd away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reigns that dread stillness grief alone can leave.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>III.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">And while he sate, nor saw, nor sigh'd,—drew near<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A timorous trembling step;—from the far clime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Pilgrim Woman came: long year on year,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In brain-sick thought that takes no heed of time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How had she pined to gaze upon that brow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Last seen in youth, when she was young:—<span class="smcap">And Now</span>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now! O words that make the sepulchre<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all our Past! Life sheds no sadder tear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than, when recalling what the Hours inter<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of hopes, of passions, of the things that made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our hearts once quicken with tumultuous bliss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We feel what worlds within ourselves can fade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sighing "And now!"—Alas the nothingness<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even of love—had it no life but this!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 137]</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IV.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Thus as she stood and gazed, and noiseless wept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two young slight forms across the threshold crept<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And reach'd the blind grey man, and kiss'd his hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then a moment o'er his lips there stray'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The old, familiar, sweet yet stately smile.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On either side the children took their stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the three were silent for awhile:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till one, the gentler, whisper'd some soft word,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mingling her young locks with that silvery hair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the old man the child's meek voice obey'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rose,—lingering yet to breathe the gladsome air—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or catch the faint note of the neighbouring bird;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then leaning on the two, his head he bow'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from the daylight pensive pass'd away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sharp swept the wind, the thrush forsook the spray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the poor Pilgrim wept at last aloud.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>V.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Hark, from within, slow and sonorous stole<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deep organ-tones; with solemn pomp of sound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meet to bear up the disimprison'd soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From mortal homage in material piles,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To blend with Angel Halleluiahs!—Round<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The charmèd place the notes melodious roll<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As with a visible flood: adown the aisles<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Nature's first cathedrals (vistas dim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through leafless woodlands), far and farther float<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On to the startled haunts of toiling men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The marching music-tides: the heavenly note<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thrills through the reeking air of alleys grim;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Awes wolf-eyed Guilt close skulking in its den;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lulls Childhood, wailing with white lips for bread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the starved breast of nerveless Penury;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fever lies soothed upon its burning bed:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Indignant Worth stills its world-weary sigh;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The widow'd bride looks upward from the dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And deems she hears his welcome to the sky.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On, the grand music, more and more remote,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bore the grey blind man's soul, itself a hymn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till lost in air amid the Seraphim.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VI.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Our life is as a circle, and our age<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back to our youth returns at last in dreams;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The intermediate restless pilgrimage<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vexing the earth with toils, the air with schemes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pays our hard tribute to the work-day world.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That done, as some storm-shatter'd argosy<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 138]</span><span class="i0">Puts to the port from whence its sail unfurl'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soul regains the first familiar shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And greets the quiet it disdain'd before.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He who in youth from purple poetry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flush'd the grey clouds in this cold common sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">After his shadeless undelusive noon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall mark the roseate hues, which morning wore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Herald the eve, and gird his setting sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the last Hesperus shine on Helicon.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O long (yet nobly, since for man) resign'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nature's most sovereign, care's most soothing boon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again, again, with vervain fillets bind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Anointed brows—O Mage supreme of song!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again before the enchanted crystal glass<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let the celestial phantoms glide along—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou, whose sweet tears yet hallow Lycidas;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou, who the soul of Plato didst unsphere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By chaste Sabrina's beryl-paven cell!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If now no more thou deign'st to charm the ear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"With measures ravish'd from Apollo's shell,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Re-wake the harp which mournful willows hide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Left by the captives of Jerusalem;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For thou hast thought of Sion, and beside<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The streams of Babylon, hast wept—like them!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Aged, forsaken—to the crowd below<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(As to the Priest<a name="FNanchor_F_33" id="FNanchor_F_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_F_33" class="fnanchor">[F]</a> who chronicled the time),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"<i>One Milton!</i>—<i>The blind Teacher</i>"—be it so.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Neglect and ruin make but more sublime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The last lone column which survives the dearth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a lost city,—when it lifts on high.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above the waste and solitude of earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its front: and soars, the Neighbour of the Sky.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">To him a Voice floats down from every star;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An Angel bends from every cloud that rolls;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life has no mystery from our sight more far<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than the still joy in solemn Poet-souls.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As some vast river, fresh'ning lands unknown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where never yet a human footstep trod,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leave the grand Song to flow majestic on<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hymn delight, from all its waves, to God.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VIII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">A death-bell ceased;—beneath the vault were laid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A great man's bones;—and when the rest were gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Veil'd, and in sable widow-'d weeds array'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An aged woman knelt upon the stone.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 139]</span><span class="i0">Low as she pray'd, the wailing notes were sweet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the strange music of a foreign tongue:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thrice to that spot came feeble, feebler feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thrice on that stone were humble garlands hung.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the fourth day some formal hand in scorn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The flowers that breathed of priestcraft cast away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the poor stranger came not with the morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And flowers forbidden deck'd no more the clay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A heart was broken!—and a spirit fled!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whither—let those who love and hope decide—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in the faith that Love rejoins the dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heart was broken ere the garland died.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnotes"> +<h4>FOOTNOTES</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_28" id="Footnote_A_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_28"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> In the story of Cupid and Psyche, told in Apuleius, it is said that the lamp +itself gladdened at the aspect of the god.—"Cujus aspectu lucernæ quoque +lumen <i>hilaratum</i> increbuit."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_29" id="Footnote_B_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_29"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Galileo—according to the popular legend of Milton's visit to him.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_30" id="Footnote_C_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_30"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> Plato.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_31" id="Footnote_D_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_31"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> The foliage of the Corinthian capital is borrowed from the acanthus.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_E_32" id="Footnote_E_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_32"><span class="label">[E]</span></a> The Council of State ordered, January 1649-50, "That Mr. Milton do +prepare something in answer to the book of Salmasius, and when he hath done +itt, bring itt to the Council." He was present, says his biographer, at the +discussion which led to the order, and though warned that the loss of sight +would be the certain consequence of obeying it, did so.—He called to mind, to +use his own image, the two destinies the oracle announced to Achilles:—"If +he stay before Troy, he will return to his land no more, but have everlasting +glory—if he withdraw, long will be his life and short his fame."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_F_33" id="Footnote_F_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_F_33"><span class="label">[F]</span></a> Burnett.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 140]</span></p> +<h2><a name="EVA" id="EVA"></a>EVA.</h2> + +<h2>A TRUE STORY.</h2> + + +<h4>I.</h4> + +<h4>THE MAIDEN'S HOME.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0">A cottage in a peaceful vale;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A jasmine round the door;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hill to shelter from the gale;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A silver brook before.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, sweet the jasmine's buds of snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In mornings soft with May;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, silver-clear the waves that flow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Reflecting heaven, away!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sweeter bloom to Eva's youth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rejoicing Nature gave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And heaven was mirror'd in her truth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">More clear than on the wave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft to that lone sequester'd place<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My boyish steps would roam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was a look in Eva's face<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That seem'd a smile of home.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And oft I paused to hear at noon<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A voice that sang for glee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or mark the white neck glancing down,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The book upon the knee.—<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>II.</h4> + +<h4>THE IDIOT BOY.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0">Who stands between thee and the sun?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A cloud himself,—the Wandering One!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A vacant wonder in the eyes,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The mind, a blank, unwritten scroll;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The light was in the laughing skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And darkness in the Idiot's soul.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 141]</span><span class="i0">He touch'd the book upon her knee—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He look'd into her gentle face—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Thou dost not tremble, maid, to see<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Poor Arthur by thy dwelling-place.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know not why, but where I pass<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The aged turn away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if my shadow vex the grass,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The children cease from play.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>My</i> only playmates are the wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The blossom on the bough!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Why are thy looks so soft and kind?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou dost not tremble—thou!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though none were by, she trembled not—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Too meek to wound, too good to fear him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, as he linger'd on the spot,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">She hid the tears that gush'd to hear him.—<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>III.</h4> + +<h4>PRAYER OF ARTHUR'S FATHER.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O Maiden!"—thus the sire begun—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"O Maiden, do not scorn my prayer:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have a hapless idiot son,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To all my wealth the only heir;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And day by day, in shine or rain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He wanders forth, to gaze again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon those eyes, whose looks of kindness<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still haunt him in his world of blindness;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sunless world!—all arts to yield<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light to the mind from childhood seal'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have been explored in vain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Few are his joys on earth;—above,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For every ill a cure is given—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God grant me life to cheer with love<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The wanderer's guileless path to Heaven."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He paused—his heart was full—"And now,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What brings the suppliant father here?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes, few the joys that life bestows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On him whose life is but repose—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">One night, from year to year;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet not so dark, O maid, if thou<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Couldst let his shadow catch thy light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Couldst to his lip that smile allow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which comes but at thy sight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Couldst—(for the smile is still so rare,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And oh, so innocent the joy!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His presence, though it pain thee, bear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor fear the harmless idiot boy!"<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 142]</span><span class="i0">Then Eva's father, from her brow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Parted the golden locks, descending<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To veil the sweet face, downwards bending:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, pointing to the swimming eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The dew-drops glist'ning on the cheek,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Mourner!" <i>the happier</i> father cries,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"These tears her answer speak!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, sweet the jasmine's buds of snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In mornings soft with May;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, silver-clear the waves that flow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In summer skies away;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But sweeter looks of kindness seem<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'er human trouble bow'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gentle hearts reflect the beam<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Less truly than the cloud.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>IV.</h4> + +<h4>THE YOUNG TEACHER.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of wonders on the land and deeps<br /></span> +<span class="i1">She spoke, and glories in the sky—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Eternal life the Father keeps,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For those who learn from Him to die.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So simply did the maiden speak—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So simply and so earnestly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You saw the light begin to break,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Soul the Heaven to see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You saw how slowly, day by day,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The darksome waters caught the ray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Confused and broken—come and gone—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The beams as yet uncertain are,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But still the billows murmur on,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And struggle for the star.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>V.</h4> + +<h4>THE STRANGER SUITOR.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There came to Eva's maiden home<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A Stranger from a sunnier clime;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lore that Hellas taught to Rome,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The wealth that Wisdom works from Time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which ever, in its ebb and flow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Heaves to the seeker on the shore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The waifs of glorious wrecks below,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The argosies of yore;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each gem that in that dark profound<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Past,—the Student's soul can find;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shone from his thought, and sparkled round<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Enchanted Palace of the Mind.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 143]</span><span class="i0">In man's best years, his form was fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Broad brow with hyacinth locks of hair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A port, though stately, not severe;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">An eye that could the heart control;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A voice whose music to the ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Became a memory to the soul.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It seem'd as Nature's hand had done<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her most to mould her kingly son;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But oft beneath the sunlit Nile<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The grim destroyer waits its prey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dark, below that fatal smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The lurking demon lay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How trustful in the leafy June,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">She roved with him the lonely vale;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How trustful by the tender moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">She blushed to hear a tenderer tale.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O happy Earth! the dawn revives,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Day after day, each drooping flower—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time to the heart <i>once</i> only gives<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The joyous Morning Hour.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"To him—oh, wilt thou pledge thy youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For whom the world's false bloom is o'er?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My heart shall haven in thy truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And tempt the faithless wave no more.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In my far land, a sun more bright<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sheds rose-hues o'er a tideless sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But cold the wave, and dull the light,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Without the sunshine found in thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say, wilt thou come, the Stranger's bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To that bright land and tideless sea?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is no sun but by thy side—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My life's whole sunshine smiles in thee!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her hand lay trembling on his arm,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Averted glow'd the happy face;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A softer hue, a mightier charm,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Grew mellowing o'er the hour—the place;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the breathing woodlands moved<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A <small>PRESENCE</small> dream-like and divine—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How sweet to love and be beloved,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To lean upon a heart that's thine!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silence was o'er the earth and sky—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By silence Love is answer'd best—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Her</i> answer was the downcast eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The rose-cheek pillow'd on his breast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What rustles through the moonlit brake?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What sudden spectre meets their gaze?<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 144]</span><span class="i0">What face, the hues of life forsake,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gleams ghost-like in the ghostly rays?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You might have heard his heart that beat,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So heaving rose its heavy swell—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>No more the Idiot</i>—at her feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Dark One, roused to reason, fell.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loosed the last link that thrall'd the thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The lightning broke upon the blind—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The jealous love the cure had wrought,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Heart in waking woke the Mind.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>VI.</h4> + +<h4>THE MARRIAGE.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To and fro the bells are swinging,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cheerily, clearly, to and fro;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gaily go the young girls, bringing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flowers the fairest June may know.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Maiden, flowers that bloom'd and perish'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Strew'd thy path the bridal day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May the Hope thy soul has cherish'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bloom when these are pass'd away!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Father's parting prayer is said,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The daughter's parting kiss is given;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tears a happy bride may shed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Like dews ascend to heaven;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leave the earth from which they rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But balmier airs, and rosier dyes.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>VII.</h4> + +<h4>THE HERMIT.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Years fly; beneath the yew-tree shade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy father's holy dust is laid;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The brook glides on, the jasmine blows;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But where art thou, the wandering wife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And what the bliss, and what the woes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Glass'd in the mirror-sleep of life?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For whether life may laugh or weep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death the true waking—life the sleep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None know! afar, unheard, unseen—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The present heeds not what has been;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This herded world together press'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can miss no straggler from the rest—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not so! Nay, all <i>one</i> heart may find,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Memory lives, a saint enshrined—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some altar-hearth, in which our shade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Household-god of Thought is made,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 145]</span><span class="i0">And each slight relic hoarded yet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With faith more solemn than regret.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who tenants thy forsaken cot—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who tends thy childhood's favourite flowers—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who wakes, from every haunted spot,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Ghosts of buried Hours?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis He whose sense was doom'd to borrow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From thee the Vision and the Sorrow—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To whom the Reason's golden ray,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In storms that rent the heart was given;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The peal that burst the clouds away<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Left clear the face of heaven!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wealth was his, and gentle birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A form in fair proportions cast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But lonely still he walk'd the earth—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Hermit of the Past.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was not love—that dream was o'er!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">No stormy grief, no wild emotion;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For oft, what once was love of yore,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The memory soothes into devotion!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He bought the cot:—The garden flowers—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The haunts his Eva's steps had trod,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Books—thought—beguiled the lonely hours,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That flow'd in peaceful waves to God.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>VIII.</h4> + +<h4>DESERTION.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She sits, a Statue of Despair,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In that far land, by that bright sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She sits, a Statue of Despair,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose smile an Angel seem'd to be—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An angel that could never die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its home the heaven of that blue eye!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The smile is gone for ever there—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She sits, the Statue of Despair!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She knows it all—the hideous tale—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The wrong, the perjury, and the shame;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before the bride had left her vale,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Another bore the nuptial name;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Another lives to claim the hand<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose clasp, in thrilling, had defiled:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Another lives, O God, to brand<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Bastard's curse upon her child!<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Another!</span>—through all space she saw<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The face that mock'd th' unwedded mother's!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In every voice she heard the Law,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That cried, "Thou hast usurp'd another's!"<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 146]</span><span class="i0">And who the horror first had told?—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From <i>his</i> false lips in scorn it came—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Thy charms grow dim, my love grows cold;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My sails are spread—Farewell."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rigid in voiceless marble there—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, sculptor, come—behold Despair!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The infant woke from feverish rest—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Its smiles she sees, its voice she hears—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The marble melted from the breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And all the Mother gush'd in tears.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>IX.</h4> + +<h4>THE INFANT-BURIAL</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To and fro the bells are swinging,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Heavily heaving to and fro;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sadly go the mourners, bringing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dust to join the dust below.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the church-aisle, lighted dim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chanted knells the ghostly hymn,<br /></span> +<span class="i3"><i>Dies iræ, dies illa,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i3"><i>Solvet sæclum in favillâ!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mother! flowers that bloom'd and perish'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Strew'd thy path the bridal day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now the bud thy grief has cherish'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With the rest has pass'd away!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaf that fadeth—bud that bloometh,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mingled there, must wait the day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the seed the grave entombeth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bursts to glory from the clay.<br /></span> +<span class="i3"><i>Dies iræ, dies illa,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i3"><i>Solvet sæclum in favillâ!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Happy are the old that die,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With the sins of life repented;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Happier he whose parting sigh<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Breaks a heart, from sin prevented!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let the earth thine infant cover<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the cares the living know;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Happier than the guilty lover—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Memory is at rest below!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Memory, like a fiend, shall follow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Night and day, the steps of Crime;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hark! the church-bell, dull and hollow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shakes another sand from time!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the church-aisle, lighted dim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chanted knells the ghostly hymn;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 147]</span><span class="i0">Hear it, False One, where thou fliest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shriek to hear it when thou diest—<br /></span> +<span class="i3"><i>Dies iræ, dies illa,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i3"><i>Solvet sæclum in favillâ!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>X.</h4> + +<h4>THE RETURN.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The cottage in the peaceful vale,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The jasmine round the door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hill still shelters from the gale,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The brook still glides before.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Without the porch, one summer noon,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Hermit-dweller see!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In musing silence bending down,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The book upon his knee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who stands between thee and the sun?—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A cloud herself,—the Wand'ring One!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A vacant sadness in the eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The mind a razed, defeatured scroll;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The light is in the laughing skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And darkness, Eva, in thy soul!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The beacon shaken in the storm,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had struggled still to gleam above<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The last sad wreck of human love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the dying child to shed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One ray—extinguish'd with the dead:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er earth and heaven then rush'd the night!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A wandering dream, a mindless form—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Star hurl'd headlong from its height,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Guideless its course, and quench'd its light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet still the native instinct stirr'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The darkness of the breast—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She flies, as flies the wounded bird<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unto the distant nest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er hill and waste, from land to land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her heart the faithful instinct bore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there, behold the Wanderer stand<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Beside her Childhood's Home once more!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XI.</h4> + +<h4>LIGHT AND DARKNESS.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When earth is fair, and winds are still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When sunset gilds the western hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft by the porch, with jasmine sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or by the brook, with noiseless feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Two silent forms are seen;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 148]</span><span class="i0">So silent they—the place so lone—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They seem like souls when life is gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That haunt where life has been:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his to watch, as in the past<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her soul had watch'd his soul.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas! <i>her</i> darkness waits the last,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The grave the only goal!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is not what the leech can cure—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">An erring chord, a jarring madness:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A calm so deep, it must endure—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So deep, thou scarce canst call it sadness;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A summer night, whose shadow falls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On silent hearths in ruin'd halls.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, through the gloom, she seem'd to feel<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His presence like a happier air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Close by his side she loved to steal,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As if no ill could harm her there!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when her looks his own would seek,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Some memory seem'd to wake the sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strive for kind words she could not speak,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And bless him in the tearful eye.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O sweet the jasmine's buds of snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In mornings soft with May,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And silver-clear the waves that flow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To shoreless deeps away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But heavenward from the faithful heart<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A sweeter incense stole;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The onward waves their source desert,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But Soul returns to Soul!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 149]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_FAIRY_BRIDE" id="THE_FAIRY_BRIDE"></a>THE FAIRY BRIDE.<br /><br /> + +<small>A TALE<a name="FNanchor_A_34" id="FNanchor_A_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_34" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></small></h2> + + +<h4>PART I.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And how canst thou in tourneys shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or tread the glittering festal floor?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On chains of gold and cloth of pile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The looks of high-born Beauty smile;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor peerless deeds, nor stainless line,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Can lift to fame the Poor!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His Mother spoke; and Elvar sigh'd—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The sigh alone confess'd the truth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He curb'd the thoughts that gall'd the breast—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High thoughts ill suit the russet vest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet Arthur's Court, in all its pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ne'er saw so fair a youth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Far, to the forest's stillest shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sir Elvar took his lonely way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath an oak, whose gentle frown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dimm'd noon's bright eyes, he laid him down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And watch'd a Fount that through the glade,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sang, sparkling up to day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"As sunlight to the forest tree"—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Twas thus his murmur'd musings ran—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And as amidst the sunlight's glow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The freshness of the fountain's flow—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So—(ah, they never mine may be!)—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Are Gold and Love to Man."<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 150]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And while he spoke, a gentle air<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Seem'd stirring through the crystal tides;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A gleam, at first both dim and bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trembled to shape, in limbs of light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gilded to sunbeams by the hair<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That glances where IT glides;<a name="FNanchor_B_35" id="FNanchor_B_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_35" class="fnanchor">[B]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Till, clear and clearer, upward borne,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Fairy of the Fountain rose:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The halo quivering round her, grew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More steadfast as the shape shone through—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O sure, a second, softer Morn<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Elder Daylight knows!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Born from the blue of those deep eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Such love its happy self betray'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As only haunts that tender race,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With flower or fount, their dwelling-place—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The darling of the earth and skies<br /></span> +<span class="i1">She rose—that Fairy Maid!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Listen!" she said, and wave and land<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sigh'd back her murmur, murmurously—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"A love more true than minstrel sings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A wealth that mocks the pomp of kings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To him who wins the Fairy's hand<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A Fairy's dower shall be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But not to those can we belong<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose sense the charms of earth allure?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If human love hath yet been thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Farewell,—our laws forbid thee mine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Children of the Star and Song,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">We may but bless the Pure!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Dream—lovelier far than e'er, I ween,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Entranced the glorious Merlin's eyes—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through childhood, to this happiest hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All free from human Beauty's power,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My heart unresting still hath been<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A prophet in its sighs.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Though never living shape hath brought<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sweet love, that second life, to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet over earth, and through the heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The thoughts that pined for love were driven:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I see thee—and I feel I sought<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through Earth and Heaven for thee!"<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 151]</span></p> + +<h4>PART II.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ask not the Bard to lift the veil<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That hides the Fairy's bridal bower;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thou art young, go seek the glade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And win thyself some fairy maid;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rosy lips shall tell the tale<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In some enchanted hour.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Farewell!" as by the greenwood tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Fairy clasp'd the Mortal's hand—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Our laws forbid thee to delay—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not ours the life of every day!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Man, alas! may rarely be<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Guest of Fairy-land.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Back to thy Prince's halls depart,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The stateliest of his stately train:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Henceforth thy wish shall be thy mine—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each toy that gold can purchase, thine—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fairy's coffers are the heart<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A mortal cannot drain."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Talk not of wealth—that dream is o'er!—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">These sunny looks be all my gold!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nay! if in courts thy thoughts can stray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the fairy-forest way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wish but to see thy bride once more—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy bride thou shalt behold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yet hear the law on which must rest<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy union with thine elfin bride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If ever by a word—a tone—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou mak'st our tender secret known,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spell will vanish from thy breast—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Fairy from thy side.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If thou but boast to mortal ear<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The meanest charm thou find'st in me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If"—here his lips the sweet lips seal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low-murmuring, "Love can ne'er reveal—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It cannot breathe to mortal ear<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The charms it finds in thee!"<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 152]</span></p> + +<h4>PART III.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">High joust, by Carduel's ancient town,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Kingly Arthur holds to-day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Around their Queen; in glittering row,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Starry Hosts of Beauty glow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smile down, ye stars, on his renown<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who bears the wreath away!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O chiefs who gird the Table Round—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O war-gems of that wondrous ring!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where lives the man to match the might<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That lifts to song your meanest knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who sees, preside on Glory's ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His Lady and his King?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What prince as from some throne afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shines onward—shining up the throng?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Broider'd with pearls, his mantle's fold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flows o'er the mail emboss'd with gold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As rides, from cloud to cloud, a star,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Bright One rode along!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Twice fifty stalwart Squires, in air<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The stranger's knightly pennon bore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twice fifty Pages, pacing slow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scatter his largess as they go;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm through the crowd he pass'd, and, there,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rein'd in the Lists before.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Light question in those elder days<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The heralds made of birth and name.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enough to wear the spurs of gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To share the pastime of the bold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Forwards!" their wands the Heralds raise,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And in the Lists he came.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now rouse thee, rouse thee, bold Gawaine!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Think of thy Lady's eyes above;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now rouse thee for thy Queen's sweet sake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou peerless Lancelot of the Lake!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vain Gawaine's might, and Lancelot's vain!—<br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>They</i> know no Fairy's love.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 153]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Before him swells the joyous tromp,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He comes—the victor's wreath is won!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low to his Queen Sir Elvar kneels,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The helm no more his face conceals;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And one pale form amidst the pomp,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sobs forth—"My gallant son!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>PART IV.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sir Elvar is the fairest knight<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That ever lured a lady's glance;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir Elvar is the wealthiest lord<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That sits at good King Arthur's board;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bravest in the joust or fight,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The lightest in the dance.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And never love, methinks, so blest<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As his, this weary world has known;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, every night before his eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The charms that ne'er can fade arise—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A star unseen by all the rest—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A Life for him alone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And yet Sir Elvar is not blest—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He walks apart with brows of gloom—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The meanest knight in Arthur's hall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His lady-love may tell to all;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He shows the flower that glads his breast—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His pride to boast its bloom!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And I who clasp the fairest form<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That e'er to man's embrace was given,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must hide the gift as if in shame!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What boots a prize we dare not name?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sun must shine if it would warm—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A cloud is all my heaven!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Much proud Genevra<a name="FNanchor_C_36" id="FNanchor_C_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_36" class="fnanchor">[C]</a> marvell'd, how<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A knight so fair should seem so cold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What if a love for hope too high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has chain'd the lip and awed the eye?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A second joust—and surely now<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The secret shall be told.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 154]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For, <i>there</i>, alone shall ride the brave<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose glory dwells in Beauty's fame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each, for his lady's honour, arms—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His lance the test of rival charms.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joy unto him whom Beauty gave<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The right to gild her name!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sir Lancelot burns to win the prize—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">First in the Lists his shield is seen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sunflower for device he took—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"<i>Where'er thou shinest turns my look.</i>"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So as he paced the Lists, his eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still sought the Sun—his Queen!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And why, Sir Elvar, loiterest thou?—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lives there no fair thy lance to claim?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No answer Elvar made the King;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sullen he stood without the ring.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Forwards!" An armèd whirlwind now<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On horse and horseman came!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And down goes princely Caradoc—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Down Tristan and stout Agrafrayn,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unscath'd, alone, amidst the field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great Lancelot bears his victor-shield;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sunflower bright'ning through the shock,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And through that iron rain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sound, trumpets—sound!—to South and North!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I, Lancelot of the Lake, proclaim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That never sun and never air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or shone or breathed on form so fair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As hers—thrice, trumpets, sound it forth!—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Our Arthur's royal dame!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And South and North, and West and East,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Upon the thunder-blast it flies!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still on his steed sits Lancelot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And even echo answers not;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till, as the stormy challenge ceased,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A voice was heard—"He lies!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All turn'd their mute, astonish'd gaze,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To where the daring answer came,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lo! Sir Elvar's haughty crest!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fierce on the knight the gazers press'd;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their wands the sacred Heralds raise,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Genevra weeps for shame.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 155]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sir Knight," King Arthur smiling said<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(In smiles a king should wrath disguise),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Know'st thou, in truth, a dame so fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our Queen may not with her compare?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Genevra, weep, and hide thy head—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sir Lancelot, yield the prize."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O, grace, my liege, for surely each<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The dame he serves should peerless hold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To loyal eye and faithful breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The loved one is the loveliest."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The King replied, "Not crafty speech—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bold deeds—excuse the bold!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"So name thy fair, defend her right!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A list!—Ho Lancelot, guard thy shield.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her name?"—Sir Elvar's visage fell:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"A vow forbids the name to tell."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Now out upon the recreant Knight<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who courts yet shuns the field!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Foul shame, were royal name disgraced<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By some light leman's taunting smile!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whoe'er—so run the tourney's laws—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would break a lance in Beauty's cause,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must name the Highborn and the Chaste—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The nameless are the vile."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sir Elvar glanced, where, stern and high,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The scornful champion rein'd his steed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where o'er the Lists the seats were raised,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And jealous dames disdainful gazed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He glanced, nor caught one gentle eye—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Courts grow not friends at need:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"King! I have said, and keep my vow."<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Thy vow! I pledge thee mine in turn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere the third sun shall sink,—or bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fair outshining yonder ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or find mine oath as thine is now<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Inflexible and stern.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thy sword, unmeet to serve the right,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy spurs, unfit for churls to wear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Torn from thee;—through the crowd, which heard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our Lady weep at vassal's word,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall hiss the hoot,—'Behold the knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose lips belie the fair!'<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 156]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Three days I give; nor think to fly<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy doom; for on the rider's steed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though to the farthest earth he ride,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Disgrace once mounted, clings beside;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Mockery's barbèd shafts defy<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her victim's swiftest speed."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Far to the forest's stillest shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sir Elvar took his lonely way:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath the oak, whose gentle frown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still dimm'd the noon, he laid him down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And saw the Fount that through the glade<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sang sparkling up to day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alas, in vain his heart address'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With sighs, with prayers, his elfin bride;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What though the vow conceal'd the name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did not the boast the charms proclaim?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spell has vanish'd from his breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The fairy from his side.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, not for vulgar homage made,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The holier beauty form'd for one;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It asks no wreath the arm can win;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its lists—its world—the heart within;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All love, if sacred, haunts the shade—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The star shrinks from the sun!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Three days the wand'rer roved in vain;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Uprose the fatal dawn at last!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Lists are set, the galleries raised,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, scorn'd by all the eyes that gazed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone he fronts the crowd again,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And hears the sentence pass'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now, as, amidst the hooting scorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rude hands the hard command fulfil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While rings the challenge—"Sun and air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ne'er shone, ne'er breathed, on form so fair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As Arthur's Queen,"—a single horn<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Came from the forest hill.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A note so distant and so lone,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And yet so sweet,—it thrill'd along,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It hush'd the Champion on his steed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Startled the rude hands from their deed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charm'd the stern Arthur on his throne,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And still'd the shouting throng.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 157]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To North, to South, to East, and West,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They turn'd their eyes; and o'er the plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On palfrey white, a Ladye rode;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As woven light her mantle glow'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two lovely shapes, in azure dress'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Walk'd first, and led the rein.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The crowd gave way, as onward bore<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That vision from the Land of Dreams;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Veil'd was the gentle rider's face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But not the two her path that grace.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How dim beside the charms they wore<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All human beauty seems!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So to the throne the pageant came,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And thus the Fairy to the King:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Not unto thee for ever dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By minstrel's song, to knighthood's ear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beseems the wrath that wrongs the vow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which hallows ev'n a name.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Bloom there no flowers more sweet by night?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Come, Queen, before the judgment throne;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold Sir Elvar's nameless bride!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, Queen, his doom thyself decide."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She raised her veil,—and all her light<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of beauty round them shone!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The bloom, the eyes, the locks, the smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That never earth nor time could dim;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Day grew more bright, and air more clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As Heaven itself were brought more near.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And oh! <i>his</i> joy, who felt, the while,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That light but glow'd for him!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My steed, my lance, vain Champion, now<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To arms: and Heaven defend the right!"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here spake the Queen, "The strife is past,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the Lists her glove she cast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And I myself will crown thy brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou love-defended Knight!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He comes to claim the garland crown;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The changeful thousands shout his name;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And faithless beauty round him smiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How cold, beside the Forest's Child,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who ask'd not love to bring renown,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And clung to love in shame!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 158]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He bears the prize to those dear feet:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Not mine the guerdon! oh, not mine!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sadly the fated Fairy hears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And smiles through unreproachful tears;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nay, keep the flowers, and be they sweet<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When I—no more am thine!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She lower'd the veil, she turn'd the rein,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And ere his lips replied, was gone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As on she went her charmèd way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No mortal dared the steps to stay:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when she vanish'd from the plain<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All space seem'd left alone!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, woe! that fairy shape no more<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shall bless thy love nor rouse thy pride!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He seeks the wood, he gains the spot—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Tree is there, the Fountain not;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dried up:—its mirthful play is o'er.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ah, where the Fairy Bride?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alas, with fairies as with men,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who love are victims from the birth!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fearful doom the fairy shrouds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If once unveil'd by day to crowds.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Fountain vanish'd from the glen,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Fairy from the earth!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnotes"> +<h4>FOOTNOTES</h4> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_34" id="Footnote_A_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_34"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> As the subject of this tale is suggested by one of the Fabliaux, the author +has represented Arthur and Guenever, according to the view of their characters +taken in those French romances—which he hopes he need scarcely say is +very different from that taken in his maturer Poem upon the adventures and +ordeal of the Dragon King.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_35" id="Footnote_B_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_35"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> "With hair that gilds the water as it glides."—<span class="smcap">Marlowe</span>, Edw. II.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_36" id="Footnote_C_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_36"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> As Guenever is often called Genevra in the French romances, the latter +name is here adopted for the sake of euphony.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 159]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_BEACON" id="THE_BEACON"></a>THE BEACON.</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>I.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How broad and bright athwart the wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its steadfast light the Beacon gave!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far beetling from the headland shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rock behind, the surge before,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How lone and stern and tempest-sear'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its brow to Heaven the turret rear'd!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Type of the glorious souls that are<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The lamps our wandering barks to light,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With storm and cloud round every star,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Fire-Guides of the Night!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>II.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How dreary was that solitude!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Around it scream'd the sea-fowl's brood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The only sound, amidst the strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of wind, and wave, that spoke of life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Except when Heaven's ghost-stars were pale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The distant cry from hurrying sail.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From year to year the weeds had grown<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O'er walls slow-rotting with the damp;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And, with the weeds, decay'd, alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Warder of the lamp.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>III.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But twice in every week from shore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fuel and food the boatmen bore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then so dreary was the scene,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So wild and grim the warder's mien,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So many a darksome legend gave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Awe to that Tadmor of the wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That scarce the boat the rock could gain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Scarce heaved the pannier on the stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Than from the rock and from the main,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Th' unwilling life was gone.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 160]</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IV.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A man he was whom man had driven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To loathe the earth and doubt the heaven;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A tyrant foe (beloved in youth)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had call'd the law to crush the truth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stripp'd hearth and home, and left to shame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The broken heart—the blacken'd name.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dark exile from his kindred, then,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He hail'd the rock, the lonely wild:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Upon the man at war with men<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The frown of Nature smiled.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>V.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But suns on suns had roll'd away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The frame was bow'd, the locks were grey:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the eternal sea and sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seem'd one still death to that dead eye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Terror, like a spectre, rose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the dull tomb of that repose.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">No sight, no sound, of human-kind;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The hours, like drops upon the stone!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What countless phantoms man may find<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In that dark word—"<span class="smcap">Alone!</span>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VI.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dreams of blue Heaven and Hope can dwell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Thraldom in its narrowest cell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The airy mind may pierce the bars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Elude the chain, and hail the stars:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Canst thou no drearier dungeon guess<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In <i>space</i>, when space is loneliness?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The body's freedom profits none,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The heart desires an equal scope;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All nature is a gaol to one<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who knows nor love nor hope!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One day, all summer in the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A happy crew came gliding by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With songs of mirth, and looks of glee—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A human sunbeam o'er the sea!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O Warder of the Beacon," cried<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A noble youth, the helm beside,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"This summer-day how canst thou bear<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To guard thy smileless rock alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And through the hum of Nature hear<br /></span> +<span class="i2">No heart-beat, save thine own?"<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 161]</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VIII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I cannot bear to live alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hear no heart-heat, save my own;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each moment, on this crowded earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The joy-bells ring some new-born birth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can ye not spare one form—but one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lowest—least beneath the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To make the morning musical<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With welcome from a human sound?"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Nay," spake the youth,—"and is that all?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy comrade shall be found."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IX.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The boat sail'd on, and o'er the main<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The awe of silence closed again;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in the wassail hours of night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When goblets go their rounds of light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the dance, and by the side<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of her, yon moon shall mark his bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Before that Child of Pleasure rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The lonely rock—the lonelier one,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A haunting spectre—till he knows<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The human wish is won!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>X.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Low-murmuring round the turret's base<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wave glides on wave its gentle chase;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lone on the rock, the warder hears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The oar's faint music—hark! it nears—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It gains the rock; the rower's hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aids a gray, time-worn form to land.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Behold the comrade sent to thee!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He said—then went. And in that place<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Twain were left; and Misery<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Guilt stood face to face!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>XI.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yes, face to face <i>once more</i> array'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stood the Betrayer—the Betray'd!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, how through all those gloomy years,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Guilt revolves what Conscience fears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had that wrong'd victim breathed the vow<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>That if but face to face</i>—And now,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">There, face to face with him he stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By the great sea, on that wild steep;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Around, the voiceless Solitude,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Below, the funeral Deep!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 162]</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>XII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They gazed—the Injurer's face grew pale—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale writhe the lips, the murmurs fail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thrice he strives to speak—in vain!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sun looks blood-red on the main,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The boat glides, waning less and less—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No Law lives in the wilderness,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Except Revenge—man's first and last!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Those wrongs—that wretch—could they forgive?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All that could sweeten life was past;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet, oh, how sweet to live!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>XIII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He gazed before, he glanced behind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, o'er the steep rock seems to wind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The devious, scarce-seen path, a snake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In slime and sloth might, labouring, make.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a wild cry he springs;—he crawls;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crag upon crag he clears;—and falls<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Breathless and mute; and o'er him stands,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pale as himself, the chasing foe—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mercy! what mean those claspèd hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Those lips that tremble so?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>XIV.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thou hast cursed my life, my wealth despoil'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My hearth "is cold, my name is soil'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wreck of what was Man, I stand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Mid the lone sea and desert land!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well, I forgive thee all; but be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A human voice and face to me!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O stay—O stay—and let me yet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One thing, that speaks man's language, know!—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The waste hath taught me to forget<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That earth once held a foe!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>XV.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Heaven! methinks, from thy soft skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look'd tearful down the angel-eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back to those walls to mark them go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hand clasp'd in hand—the Foe and Foe!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when the sun sunk slowly there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low knelt the prayerless man in prayer.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He knelt, no more the lonely one;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Within, secure, a comrade sleeps;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That sun shall not go down upon<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A desert in the deeps.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 163]</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>XVI.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He knelt—the man who half till then<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forgot his God in loathing men,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He knelt, and pray'd that God to spare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Foe to grow the Brother there;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, reconciled by Love to Heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forgiving—was he not forgiven?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Yes, man for man thou didst create;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Man's wrongs, man's blessings can atone!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To learn how Love can spring from Hate—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Go, Hate,—and live alone."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_LAY_OF_THE_MINSTRELS_HEART" id="THE_LAY_OF_THE_MINSTRELS_HEART"></a>THE LAY OF THE MINSTREL'S HEART.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It was the time when Spring on Earth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gives Eden to the young;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Provence shone the Vesper star;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath fair Marguerite's lattice-bar<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Minstrel, Aymer, sung—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The year may take a second birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But May is swift of wing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Heart whose sunshine lives in thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One May from year to year shall see;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy love, eternal spring!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Ladye blush'd, the Ladye sighed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All Heaven was in that Hour!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Heart he pledged was leal and brave—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And what the pledge the Ladye gave?—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her hand let fall a flower!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when shall Aymer claim his Bride?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It is the hour to part!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He goes to guard the Saviour's grave;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her pledge, a flower, the Maiden gave,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And <i>his</i>—the Minstrel's heart!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Behold, a Cross, a Grave, a Foe!<br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>What else—Man's Holy Land?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">High deeds, that level Rank to Fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have bought young Aymer's right to claim<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The high-born Maiden's hand.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 164]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">High deeds should ask no meed below—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Their meed is in the sky.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The poison-dart, in Victory's hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has pierced the Heart where lies the flower,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And hers its latest sigh!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It is the time when Spring on Earth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gives Eden to the young,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And harp and hymn proclaim the Bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who smiles, Count Raimond, by thy side,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Maid whom Aymer sung!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, darkly through the wassail mirth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A pale procession see!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turn, Marguerite, from the bridegroom turn—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thine Aymer's heart—the funeral urn—<br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>His</i> pledge, comes back to thee!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo, on the Urn how wither'd lies<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy gift—the scentless flower!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amid those garlands, fresh and fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That prank the hall and glad the air,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What does that wither'd flower?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One tear bedew'd the Ladye's eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">No tears beseem the day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dead can ne'er to life return<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"A marble tomb shall grace the Urn,"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">She said, and turn'd away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The marble rose the Urn above,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The World went on the same;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Ladye smiled. Count Raimond's bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And flowers, like hers, that bloom'd and died,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Each May returning came.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The faded flower, the dream of love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The poison and the dart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tearful trust, the smiling wrong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tomb,—behold, O Child of Song,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The History of thy Heart!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 165]</span></p> +<h3><a name="NARRATIVE_LYRICS" id="NARRATIVE_LYRICS"></a><big>Narrative Lyrics.</big><br /> +<br /> +<small>OR,</small><br /> +<br /> +THE PARCÆ;<br /> +<br /> +IN SIX LEAVES FROM THE SIBYL'S BOOK.</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 166]</span></p> +<h3><a name="The_Parcae_Leaf_the_First" id="The_Parcae_Leaf_the_First"></a>The Parcæ.—Leaf the First.</h3> + +<h4>NAPOLEON AT ISOLA BELLA.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>In the Isola Bella, upon the Lago Maggiore, where the richest vegetation of +the tropics grows in the vicinity of the Alps, there is a lofty laurel-tree (the bay), +tall as the tallest oak, on which, a few days before the battle of Marengo, +Napoleon carved the word "<small>BATTAGLIA</small>." The bark has fallen away from the +inscription, most of the letters are gone, and the few left are nearly effaced.</p></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>I.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O fairy island of a fairy sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wherein Calypso might have spell'd the Greek,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or Flora piled her fragrant treasury,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cull'd from each shore her Zephyr's wings could seek.—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">From rocks, where aloes blow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tier upon tier, Hesperian fruits arise;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The hanging bowers of this soft Babylon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An India mellows in the Lombard skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And changelings, stolen from the Lybian sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Smile to yon Alps of snow.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>II.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Amid this gentlest dream-land of the wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Arrested, stood the wondrous Corsican;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if one glimpse the better angel gave<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the bright garden-life vouschafed to man<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Ere blood defiled the world.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He stood—that grand Sesostris of the North—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">While paused the car to which were harness'd kings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the airs, that lovingly sigh'd forth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The balms of Araby, his eagle-wings<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Their sullen thunder furl'd.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 167]</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>III.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And o'er the marble hush of those large brows,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dread with the awe of the Olympian nod,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A giant laurel spread its breathless boughs,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The prophet-tree of the dark Pythian god,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Shadowing the doom of thrones!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What, in such hour of rest and scene of joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stirs in the cells of that unfathom'd brain?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comes back one memory of the musing boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lone gazing o'er the yet unmeasured main,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Whose waifs are human bones?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IV.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To those deep eyes doth one soft dream return?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Soft with the bloom of youth's unrifled spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Hope first fills from founts divine the urn,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And rapt Ambition, on the angel's wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Floats first through golden air?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Or doth that smile recall the midnight street,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When thine own star the solemn ray denied,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to a stage-mime,<a name="FNanchor_A_37" id="FNanchor_A_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_37" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> for obscure retreat<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From hungry Want, the destined Cæsar sigh'd?—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Still Fate, as then, asks prayer.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>V.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Under that prophet tree, thou standest now;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Inscribe thy wish upon the mystic rind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath the warm human heart no tender vow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Link'd with sweet household names?—no hope enshrined<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Where thoughts are priests of Peace.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Or, if dire Hannibal thy model be,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dread lest, like him, thou bear the thunder <i>home</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perchance ev'n now a Scipio dawns for thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou doomest Carthage while thou smitest Rome—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Write, write "Let carnage cease!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VI.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whispers from heaven have strife itself inform'd;—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Peace" was our dauntless Falkland's latest sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Navarre's frank Henry fed the forts he storm'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wild Xerxes wept the Hosts he doom'd to die!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Ev'n War pays dues to Love!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 168]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Note how harmoniously the art of Man<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Blends with the Beautiful of Nature! see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How the true Laurel of the Delian<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shelters the Grace!—Apollo's peaceful tree<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Blunts ev'n the bolt of Jove.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Write on the sacred bark such votive prayer,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As the mild Power may grant in coming years,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some word to make thy memory gentle there;—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">More than renown, kind thought for men endears<br /></span> +<span class="i8">A Hero to Mankind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Slow moved the mighty hand—a tremour shook<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The leaves, and hoarse winds groan'd along the wood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Pythian tree the damning sentence took,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And to the sun the battle-word of blood<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Glared from the gashing rind.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VIII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So thou hast writ the word, and sign'd thy doom:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Farewell, and pass upon thy gory way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The direful skein the pausing Fates resume!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Let not the Elysian grove thy steps delay<br /></span> +<span class="i8">From thy Promethean goal.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The fatal tree the abhorrent word retain'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till the last Battle on its bloody strand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flung what were nobler had no life remain'd,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The crownless front and the disarmèd hand<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And the' foil'd Titan Soul;<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IX.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now, year by year, the warrior's iron mark<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Crumbles away from the majestic tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The indignant life-sap ebbing from the bark<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where the grim death-word to Humanity<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Profaned the Lord of Day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">High o'er the pomp of blooms, as greenly still,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Aspires that tree—the Archetype of Fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stem rejects all chronicle of ill;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The bark shrinks back—the <i>tree</i> survives the same—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The <i>record</i> rots away.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rfrnce"><span class="smcap">Baveno</span>, Oct. 8, 1845.</p> + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 169]</span></p> +<h3><a name="The_Parcae_mdashLeaf_the_Second" id="The_Parcae_mdashLeaf_the_Second"></a>The Parcæ.——Leaf the Second.</h3> + +<h4>MAZARIN.</h4> + +<h4>FAREWELL TO THE BEAUTIFUL, WITHOUT.</h4> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"I was walking, some days after, in the new apartments of his palace. I +recognized the approach of the cardinal (Mazaria) by the sound of his slippered +feet, which he dragged one after the other, as a man enfeebled by a mortal +malady. I concealed myself behind the tapestry, and I heard him say, 'Il +faut quitter tout cela!' ('I must leave all that!') He stopped at every step, +for he was very feeble, and casting his eyes on each object that attracted him, +he sighed forth, as from the bottom of his heart, 'II faut quitter tout cela! +What pains have I taken to acquire these things! Can I abandon them without +regret? I shall never see them more where I am about to go!'" &c.—<span class="smcap">Mémoires +Inédits de Louis Henri</span>, <span class="smcap">Comte de Brienne</span>, <i>Barrière's Edition</i>, +vol. ii. p. 115.</p></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Serene the Marble Images<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gleam'd down, in lengthen'd rows;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their life, like the Uranides,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A glory and repose.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Glow'd forth the costly canvas spoil<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From many a gorgeous frame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One race will starve the living toil,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The next will gild the name.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That stately silence silvering through,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The steadfast tapers shone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the Painter's pomp of hue,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Sculptor's solemn stone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Saved from the deluge-storm of Time,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Within that ark, survey<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whate'er of elder Art sublime<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Survives a world's decay!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 170]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There creeps a foot, there sighs a breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Along the quiet floor;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An old man leaves his bed of death<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To count his treasures o'er.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Behold the dying mortal glide<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Amidst the eternal Art;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It were a sight to stir with pride<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Some pining Painter's heart!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It were a sight that might beguile<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sad Genius from the Hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see the life of Genius smile<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Upon the death of Power.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The ghost-like master of that hall<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is king-like in the land;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And France's proudest heads could fall<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Beneath that spectre hand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Veil'd in the Roman purple, preys<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The canker-worm within;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And more than Bourbon's sceptre sways<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The crook of Mazarin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Italian, yet more dear to thee<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Than sceptre, or than crook,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Art in which thine Italy<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still charm'd thy glazing look!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So feebly, and with wistful eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He crawls along the floor;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A dying man, who, ere he dies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Would count his treasures o'er.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, from the landscape's soft repose,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Smiled thy calm soul, Lorraine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, from the deeps of Raphael, rose<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Celestial Love again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In pomp, which his own pomp recalls,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The haggard owner sees<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy cloth of gold and banquet halls,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou stately Veronese!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While, cold as if they scorn'd to hail<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Creations not their own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Gods of Greece stand marble-pale<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Around the Thunderer's throne.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 171]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There, Hebè brims the urn of gold;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">There, Hermes treads the skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, ever in the Serpent's fold,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Laocoon deathless dies.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There, startled from her mountain rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Young Dian turns to draw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The arrowy death that waits the breast<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her slumber fail'd to awe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There, earth subdued by dauntless deeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And life's large labours done,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stands, sad as Worth with mortal meeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Alcmena's mournful son.<a name="FNanchor_B_38" id="FNanchor_B_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_38" class="fnanchor">[B]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They gaze upon the fading form<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With mute immortal eyes;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, clay that waits the hungry worm;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">There, children of the skies.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then slowly as he totter'd by,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The old Man, unresign'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sigh'd forth: "Alas! and must I die,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And leave such life behind?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The Beautiful, from which I part,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Alone defies decay!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still, while he sigh'd, the eternal Art<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Smiled down upon the clay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And as he waved the feeble hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And crawl'd unto the porch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He saw the Silent Genius stand<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With the extinguish'd torch!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The world without, for ever yours,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ye stern remorseless Three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What, from that changeful world, secures<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Calm Immortality?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nay, soon or late decays, alas!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or canvass, stone, or scroll;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From all material forms must pass<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To forms afresh, the soul.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 172]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Tis but in that <i>which doth create</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Duration can be sought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A worm can waste the canvass;—Fate<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ne'er swept from Time, a Thought.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lives Phidias in his works alone?—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His Jove returns to air:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But wake one godlike shape from stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Phidian thought is there!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Blot out the Iliad from the earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still Homer's thought would fire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each deed that boasts sublimer worth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And each diviner lyre.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Like light, connecting star to star,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Doth Thought transmitted run;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rays that to earth the nearest are,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Have longest left the sun.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 173]</span></p> + +<h3><a name="The_Parcae_Leaf_the_Third" id="The_Parcae_Leaf_the_Third"></a>The Parcæ.—Leaf the Third.</h3> + +<h4>ANDRÉ CHÉNIER.</h4> + +<h4>FAREWELL TO THE BEAUTIFUL, WITHIN.</h4> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"André Chénier, the original of whatever is truest to nature and genuine +passion, in the modern poetry of France, died by the guillotine, July 27, 1794. +In ascending the scaffold, he cried, 'To die so young!' 'And there was something +here!' he added, striking his forehead, not in the fear of death, but the +despair of genius!"—See <span class="smcap">Thiers</span>, vol. iv. p. 83.</p></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Within the prison's dreary girth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The dismal night, before<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That morn on which the dungeon Earth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shall wall the soul no more,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There stood serenest images<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where doomèd Genius lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ever young Uranides<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Around the Child of Clay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On blacken'd walls and rugged floors<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shone cheerful, thro' the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stars—like beacons from the shores<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the still Infinite.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From Ida to the Poet's cell<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Pain-beguilers stole;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Apollo tuned his silver shell<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Hebè brimm'd the bowl.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To grace those walls he needed nought<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That tint or stone bestows;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Creation kindled from his thought:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He call'd—and gods arose.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 174]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The visions Poets only know<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Upon the captive smiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As bright within those walls of woe<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As on the sunlit child;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He saw the nameless, glorious things<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which youthful dreamers see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Fancy first with murmurous wings<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'ershadows bards to be;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Those forms to life spiritual given<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By high creative hymn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From music born—as from their heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Are born the Seraphim.<a name="FNanchor_C_39" id="FNanchor_C_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_39" class="fnanchor">[C]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Forgetful of the coming day,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Upon the dungeon floor<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He sate to count, poor child of clay,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The wealth of genius o'er;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To count the gems, as yet unwrought,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But found beneath the soil;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bright discoveries claim'd by thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As future crowns for toil.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He sees The Work his breath should warm<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To life, from out the air:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Shape of Love his soul should form,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then leave its birthright there!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He sees the new Immortal rise<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From her melodious sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The last descendant of the skies<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For man to bend the knee—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He sees himself within your shrine<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O hero gods of Fame!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hears the praise that makes divine<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The human holy name.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">True to the hearts of men shall chime<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The song their lips repeat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When heroes chant the strain, sublime;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When lovers breathe it, sweet.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 175]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo, from the brief delusion given,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He starts, as through the bars<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gleams wan the dawn that scares from Heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Thought alike—its stars.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hark to the busy tramp below!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The jar of iron doors!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gaoler's heavy footfall slow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Along the funeral floors!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The murmur of the crowd that round<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The human shambles throng;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That muffled sullen thunder-sound—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Death-cart grates along!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Alas, so soon!—and must I die,"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He groan'd forth unresign'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Flit like a cloud athwart the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And leave no wrack behind!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And yet my Genius speaks to me;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Pythian fires my brain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tells me what my life should be;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A Prophet—and in vain!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O realm more wide, from clime to clime,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Than ever Cæsar sway'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O conquests in that world of time<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My grand desire survey'd!"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Blood-red upon his loathing eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Now glares the gaoler's torch:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Come forth, the day is in the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Death-cart at the porch!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pass on!—to thee the Parcæ give<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The fairest lot of all;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In golden poet-dreams to live,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And ere they fade—to fall!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The shrine that longest guards a Name<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is oft an early tomb;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Poem most secure of fame<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is—some wrong'd poet's doom!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 176]</span></p> + +<h3><a name="The_Parcae_Leaf_the_Fourth" id="The_Parcae_Leaf_the_Fourth"></a>The Parcæ.—Leaf the Fourth.</h3> + +<h4>MARY STUART AND HER MOURNER.</h4> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Mary Stuart perished at the age of forty-four years and two months. Her +remains were taken from her weeping servants, and a green cloth, torn in +haste from an old billiard table, was flung over her once beautiful form. Thus +it remained unwatched and unattended, except by a poor little lap-dog, which +could not be induced to quit the body of its mistress. This faithful little animal +was found dead two days afterwards; and the circumstance made such an +impression even on the hard-hearted minister of Elizabeth, that it was mentioned +in the official despatches."</p> + +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jamieson's</span> <i>Female Sovereigns—Mary Queen of Scots</i>.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The axe its bloody work had done;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The corpse neglected lay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This peopled world could spare not one<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To watch beside the clay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The fairest work from Nature's hand<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That e'er on mortals shone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sunbeam stray'd from fairy land<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To fade upon a throne;—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Venus of the Tomb<a name="FNanchor_D_40" id="FNanchor_D_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_40" class="fnanchor">[D]</a> whose form<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Was destiny and death;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Siren's voice that stirr'd a storm<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In each melodious breath;—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Such <i>was</i>, what now by fate is hurl'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To rot, unwept, away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A star has vanish'd from the world;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And none to miss the ray!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stern Knox, that loneliness forlorn<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A harsher truth might teach<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To royal pomps, than priestly scorn<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To royal sins can preach!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 177]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No victims now that lip can make!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That hand how powerless now!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O God! and what a King—but take<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A bauble from the brow?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The world is full of life and love;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The world methinks might spare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From millions, one to watch above<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The dust of monarchs there.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And not one human eye!—yet lo<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What stirs the funeral pall?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What sound—it is not human woe—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wails moaning through the hall?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Close by the form mankind desert<br /></span> +<span class="i1">One thing a vigil keeps;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More near and near to that still heart<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It wistful, wondering creeps.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It gazes on those glazèd eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It hearkens for a breath—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It does not know that kindness dies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And love departs from death.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It fawns as fondly as before<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Upon that icy hand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hears from lips, that speak no more,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The voice that can command.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To that poor fool, alone on earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">No matter what had been<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pomp, the fall, the guilt, the worth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Dead was still a Queen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With eyes that horror could not scare,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It watch'd the senseless clay:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crouch'd on the breast of Death, and there<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Moan'd its fond life away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when the bolts discordant clash'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And human steps drew nigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The human pity shrunk abash'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Before that faithful eye;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It seem'd to gaze with such rebuke<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On those who could forsake;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then turn'd to watch once more the look,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And strive the sleep to wake.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 178]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They raised the pall—they touch'd the dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A cry, and <i>both</i> were still'd,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alike the soul that Hate had sped,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The life that Love had kill'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Semiramis of England, hail!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy crime secures thy sway:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when thine eyes shall scan the tale<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Those hireling scribes convey;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When thou shalt read, with late remorse,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">How one poor slave was found<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside thy butcher'd rival's corse,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The headless and discrown'd;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shall not thy soul foretell thine own<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unloved, expiring hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When those who kneel around the throne<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shall fly the falling tower;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When thy great heart shall silent break,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When thy sad eyes shall strain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through vacant space, one thing to seek<br /></span> +<span class="i1">One thing that loved—in vain?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though round thy parting pangs of pride<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shall priest and noble crowd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More worth the grief, that mourn'd beside<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy victim's gory shroud!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 179]</span></p> + +<h3><a name="The_Parcae_Leaf_the_Fifth" id="The_Parcae_Leaf_the_Fifth"></a>The Parcæ.—Leaf the Fifth.</h3> + +<h4>THE LAST DAYS OF ELIZABETH.</h4> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Her delight is to sit in the dark, and sometimes, with shedding tears, to +bewail Essex."—<i>Contemporaneous Correspondence.</i></p> + +<p>"She refused all consolation; few words she uttered, and they were all +expressive of some hidden grief which she cared not to reveal. But sighs and +groans were the chief vent which she gave to her despondency, and which, +though they discovered her sorrows, were never able to ease or assuage them. +Ten days and nights she lay upon the carpet leaning on cushions which her +maids brought her," &c.—<span class="smcap">Hume.</span></p></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>I.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Rise from thy bloody grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou soft Medusa of the Fated Line<a name="FNanchor_E_41" id="FNanchor_E_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_41" class="fnanchor">[E]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose evil beauty look'd to death the brave;—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Discrownèd Queen, around whose passionate shame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Terror and Grief the palest flowers entwine,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That ever veil'd the ruins of a Name<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the sweet parasites of song divine!—<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Arise, sad Ghost, arise,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And if Revenge outlive the Tomb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold the Doomer brought to doom!<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Lo, where thy mighty Murderess lies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The sleepless couch—the sunless room,—<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Through the darkness darkly seen<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Rests the shadow of a Queen;<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Ever on the lawns below<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Flit the shadows to and fro,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Quick at dawn, and slow at noon,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Halving midnight with the moon:<br /></span> +<span class="i3">In the palace, still and dun,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Rests that shadow on the floor;<br /></span> +<span class="i3">All the changes of the sun<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Move that shadow nevermore.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 180]</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>II.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet oft she turns from face to face,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A keen and wistful gaze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if the memory seeks to trace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sign of some lost dwelling-place<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Beloved in happier days;—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ah, what the clue supplies<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the cold vigil of a hireling's eyes?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, sad in childless age to weep alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Look round and find no grief reflect our own!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Soul, thou speedest to thy rest away,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But not upon the pinions of the dove;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When death draws nigh, how miserable they<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who have outlived all love!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As on the solemn verge of Night<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lingers a weary Moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou wanest last of every glorious light<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That bathed with splendour thy majestic noon:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stately stars that clustering o'er the isle<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lull'd into glittering rest the subject sea;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gone the great Masters of Italian wile,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">False to the world beside, but true to thee!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Burleigh, the subtlest builder of thy fame,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The serpent craft of winding Walsingham;—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They who exalted yet before thee bow'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that more dazzling chivalry—the Band<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That made thy Court a Faëry Land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In which thou wert enshrined to reign alone—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Gloriana of the Diamond Throne;—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All gone,—and left thee sad amidst the cloud.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>III.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To their great sires, to whom thy youth was known,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who from thy smile, as laurels from the sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drank the immortal greenness of renown,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Succeeds the cold lip-homage scantly won<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the new race whose hearts already bear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Wise-man's offerings to th' unworthy Heir.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Watching the glass in which the sands run low,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hovers keen Cecil with his falcon eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And musing Bacon<a name="FNanchor_F_42" id="FNanchor_F_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_F_42" class="fnanchor">[F]</a> bends his marble brow.—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But deem not fondly there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To weep the fate or pour th' averting prayer<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Attend those solemn spies!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 181]</span><span class="i1">Lo, at the Regal Gate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The impatient couriers wait;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To speed from hour to hour the nice account<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That registers the grudged unpitied sighs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vexing the friendless void, before<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Stuart's step shall reeling mount<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tudor's steep throne, red with his Mother's gore!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IV.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">O piteous mockery of all pomp thou art,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Poor Child of Clay, worn out with toil and years!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As, layer by layer, the granite of the heart<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dissolving, melteth to the weakest tears<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That ever Village Maiden shed above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The grave that robb'd her quiet world of love.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Ten days and nights upon that floor<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Those weary limbs have lain;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And every hour has added more<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of heaviness to pain.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As gazing into dismal air<br /></span> +<span class="i1">She sees the headless phantom there,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The victim round whose image twined<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The last wild love of womankind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That lightning flash'd from stormy hearts,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which now reveals the deeps of Heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now remorseless, earthward darts,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rives, and expires on what its stroke hath riven!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twere sad to see from those stern eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Th' unheeded anguish feebly flow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hear the broken word that dies<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In moanings faint and low;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But sadder still to mark the while,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The vacant stare—the marble smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And think, that goal of glory won.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How slight a shade between<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The idiot moping in the sun<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And England's giant Queen!<a name="FNanchor_G_43" id="FNanchor_G_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_G_43" class="fnanchor">[G]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 182]</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>V.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Call back the joyous Past!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lo, England white-robed for a holyday!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While, choral to the clarion's kingly blast,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shout peals on shout along the Virgin's way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As through the swarming streets rolls on the long array.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mary is dead!—Look from your fire-won homes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Exulting Martyrs!—on the mount shall rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Truth's ark at last! th' avenging Lutheran comes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And clasps <span class="smcap">the Book</span> ye died for to her breast!<a name="FNanchor_H_44" id="FNanchor_H_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_H_44" class="fnanchor">[H]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With her, the flower of all the Land,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The high-born gallants ride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ever nearest of the band,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With watchful eye and ready hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Young Dudley's form of pride!<a name="FNanchor_I_45" id="FNanchor_I_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_I_45" class="fnanchor">[I]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, ev'n in that exulting hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love half allures the soul from Power,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To that dread brow in bending down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Throbs up, beneath the manlike crown,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The woman's heart wild beating,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While steals the whisper'd worship, paid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not to the Monarch, but the Maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through tromps and stormy greeting.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VI.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Call back the gorgeous Past!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lists are set, the trumpets sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still as the stars, when to the breeze<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sway the proud crests of stately trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright eyes, from tier on tier around,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look down, where on its famous ground<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Murmurs and moves the bristling life<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Of antique Chivalry!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Forward!"<a name="FNanchor_J_46" id="FNanchor_J_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_J_46" class="fnanchor">[J]</a>—the signal word is given—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like cloud on cloud by tempest driven;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Steel lightens, and arm'd thunders close!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How plumes descend in flakes of snows;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 183]</span><span class="i0">How the ground reels, as reels a sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath the inebriate rapture-strife<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Of jocund Chivalry!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who is the Victor of the Day?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou of the delicate form and golden hair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Manhood glorious in its midst of May;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou who, upon thy shield of argent, bearest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bold device, "The Loftiest is the Fairest!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As bending low thy stainless crest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"The Vestal thronèd by the West"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Accords the old Provençal crown<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which blends her own with thy renown;—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Arcadian Sidney—Nursling of the Muse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flower of divine Romance,<a name="FNanchor_K_47" id="FNanchor_K_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_K_47" class="fnanchor">[K]</a> whose bloom was fed<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By daintiest Helicon's most silver dews,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas! how soon thy lovely leaves were shed—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee lost, no more were Grace and Force united,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Grace but some flaunting Buckingham unmann'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Force but crush'd what Freedom vainly righted—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Behind, lo Cromwell looms, and dusks the land<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With the swart shadow of his giant hand.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Call back the Kingly Past!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where, bright and broadening to the main,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rolls on the scornful River,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stout hearts beat high on Tilbury's plain,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Our Marathon for ever!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No breeze above, but on the mast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pennon shook as with the blast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forth from the cloud the day-god strode;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flash'd back from steel, the splendour glow'd,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leapt the loud joy from Earth to Heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As through the ranks asunder riven,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Warrior-Woman rode!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hark, thrilling through the armèd Line<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The martial accents ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Though mine the Woman's form—yet mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"The Heart of England's King!"<a name="FNanchor_L_48" id="FNanchor_L_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_L_48" class="fnanchor">[L]</a><br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 184]</span><span class="i2">Woe to the Island and the Maid!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Pope has preach'd the New Crusade,<a name="FNanchor_M_49" id="FNanchor_M_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_M_49" class="fnanchor">[M]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i2">His sons have caught the fiery zeal;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Monks are merry in Castile;<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Bold Parma on the Main;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And through the deep exulting sweep<br /></span> +<span class="i3">The Thunder-Steeds of Spain.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What meteor rides the sulphurous gale?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Flames have caught the giant sail!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fierce Drake is grappling prow to prow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God and St. George for Victory now!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death in the Battle and the Wind—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Carnage before and Storm behind—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wild shrieks are heard above the hurtling roar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Orkney's rugged strands, and Erin's ruthless shore.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Joy to the Island and the Maid!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pope Sextus wept the Last Crusade!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His sons consumed before his zeal,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Monks are woeful in Castile;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your Monument the Main,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The glaive and gale record your tale,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ye Thunder-Steeds of Spain!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VIII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Turn from the idle Past;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Its lonely ghost thou art!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yea, like a ghost, whom charms to earth detain<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(When, with the dawn, its kindred phantom train<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Glide into peaceful graves)—to dust depart<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy shadowy pageants; and the day unblest,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Seems some dire curse that keeps thee from thy rest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet comfort, comfort to thy longing woe,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou wistful watcher by the dreary portal;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now when most human, since most feeble, know,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That in the Human struggles the Immortal.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Flash'd from the steel of the descending shears,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Oft sacred light illumes the parting soul;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And our last glimpse along the woof of years,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">First reads the scheme that disinvolves the whole.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, then, recall the Past!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is reverence not the child of sympathy?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To feel for Greatness we must hear it sigh:<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 185]</span><span class="i0">On mortal brows those halos longest last<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which blend for one the rays that verge from all.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Few reign, few triumph; millions love and grieve:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of grief and love let some high memory leave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One mute appeal to life, upon the stone—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That tomb from Time shall votive rites receive<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When History doubts what ghost once fill'd a throne.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So,—indistinct while back'd by sunlit skies—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But large and clear against the midnight pall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy human outline awes our human eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Place, place, ye meaner royalties below,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Nature's holiest—Womanhood and Woe!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Let not vain youth deride the age that still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loves as the young,—loves on unto the last;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grandest the heart when grander than the will—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bow we before the soul, which through the Past,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turns no vain glance towards fading heights of Pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But strains its humbled tearful gaze to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love and Remorse—near Immortality,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by the yawning Grave, stand side by side.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 186]</span></p> + +<h3><a name="The_Parcae_Leaf_the_Sixth" id="The_Parcae_Leaf_the_Sixth"></a>The Parcæ.—Leaf the Sixth.</h3> + +<h4>CROMWELL'S DREAM.</h4> + + + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The conception of this Ode originated in a popular tradition of Cromwell's +earlier days. It is thus strikingly related by Mr. Forster, in his very valuable +Life of Cromwell:—"He laid himself down, too fatigued in hope for sleep, +when suddenly the curtains of his bed were slowly withdrawn by a gigantic +figure, which bore the aspect of a woman, and which, gazing at him silently +for a while, told him that he should, before his death, be the greatest man in +England. He remembered when he told the story, and the recollection marked +the current of his thoughts, <i>that the figure had not made mention of the word +King</i>." Alteration has been made in the scene of the vision, and the age of +Cromwell.</p></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>I.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The Moor spread wild and far,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the sharp whiteness of a wintry shroud;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Midnight yet moonless; and the winds ice-bound:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And a grey dusk—not darkness—reign'd around,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Save where the phantom of a sudden star<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peer'd o'er some haggard precipice of cloud:—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where on the wold, the triple pathway cross'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A sturdy wanderer wearied, lone, and lost,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Paused and gazed round; a dwarf'd but aged yew<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'er the wan rime its gnome-like shadow threw;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The spot invited, and by sleep oppress'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Beneath the boughs he laid him down to rest.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A man of stalwart limbs and hardy frame,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Meet for the ruder time when force was fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Youthful in years—the features yet betray<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thoughts rarely mellow'd till the locks are grey:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Round the firm lips the lines of solemn wile<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Might warn the wise of danger in the smile;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But the blunt aspect spoke more sternly still<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That craft of craft—<span class="smcap">the Stubborn Will</span>:<br /></span> +<span class="i3">That which,—let what may betide—<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Never halts nor swerves aside;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 187]</span><span class="i3">From afar its victim viewing,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Slow of speed, but sure-pursuing;<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Through maze, up mount, still hounding on its way,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Till grimly couch'd beside the conquer'd prey!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>II.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The loftiest fate will longest lie<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In unrevealing sleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And yet unknown the destined race,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor yet his Soul had walk'd with Grace;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still, on the seas of Time<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Drifted the ever-careless prime,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But many a blast that o'er the sky<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All idly seems to sweep,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still while it speeds, may spread the seeds<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The toils of autumn reap:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we must blame the soil, and not the wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If hurrying passion leave no golden grain behind.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>III.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Seize—seize—seize!<a name="FNanchor_N_50" id="FNanchor_N_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_N_50" class="fnanchor">[N]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bind him strong in the chain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On his heart, on his brain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Clasp the links of the evil Sleep!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Seize—seize—seize—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye fiends that dimly sweep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up from the Stygian deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Death sits watchful by his brother's side!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ye pale Impalpables, that are<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shadows of Truths afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Appearing oft to warn, but ne'er to guide,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hover around the calm, disdainful Fates,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Reveal the woof through which the spindle gleams:—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Open, ye Ebon gates!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Darken the moon—O Dreams!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">Seize—seize—seize—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bind him strong in the chain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On his heart, on his brain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Clasp the links of the evil Sleep!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Awakes or dreams he still?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His eyes are open with a glassy stare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the fix'd brow the large drops gather chill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And horror, like a wind, stirs through the lifted hair.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 188]</span><span class="i1">Before him stands the Thing of Dread—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A giant shadow motionless and pale!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As those dim Lemur-Vapours that exhale<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the rank grasses rotting o'er the Dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And startle midnight with the mocking show<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the still, shrouded bones that sleep below—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So the wan image which the Vision bore<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Was outlined from the air, no more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than served to make the loathing sense a bond<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between the world of life, and grislier worlds beyond.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IV.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Behold!" the Shadow said, and lo,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the blank heath had spread, a smiling scene;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft woodlands sloping from a village green,<a name="FNanchor_O_51" id="FNanchor_O_51"></a><a href="#Footnote_O_51" class="fnanchor">[O]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And, waving to blue Heaven, the happy cornfields glow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A modest roof, with ivy cluster'd o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Childhood's busy mirth beside the door.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, yonder, sunset sleeping on the sod,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bow Labour's rustic sons in solemn prayer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, self-made teacher of the truths of God,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Dreamer sees the Phantom-Cromwell there!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Art thou content, of these the greatest <i>Thou</i>,"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Murmur'd the Fiend, "the Master and the Priest?"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A sullen anger knit the Dreamer's brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And from his scornful lips the words came slow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"The greatest of the hamlet, Demon, No!"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Loud laugh'd the Fiend—then trembled through the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where haply angels watch'd, a warning sigh;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And darkness swept the scene, and golden Quiet ceased.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>V.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Behold!" the Shadow said—a hell-born ray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shoots through the Night, up-leaps the unholy Day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spring from the earth the Dragon's armèd seed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ghastly squadron wheels, and neighs the spectre-steed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unnatural sounded the sweet Mother-tongue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As loud from host to host the English war-cry rung;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Kindred with kindred blent in slaughter show<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The dark phantasma of the Prophet-Woe!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 189]</span><span class="i1">A gay and glittering band!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Apollo's lovelocks in the crest of Mars—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light-hearted Valour, laughing scorn to scars—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A gay and glittering band,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unwitting of the scythe—the lilies of the land!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale in the midst, that stately squadron boasts<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A princely form, a mournful brow;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And still, where plumes are proudest, seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With sparkling eye and dauntless mien,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The young Achilles<a name="FNanchor_P_52" id="FNanchor_P_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_P_52" class="fnanchor">[P]</a> of the hosts.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On rolls the surging war—and now<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Along the closing columns ring—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Rupert" and "Charles"—"The Lady of the Crown,"<a name="FNanchor_Q_53" id="FNanchor_Q_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_Q_53" class="fnanchor">[Q]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Down with the Roundhead Rebels, down!"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"St. George and England's king."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">A stalwart and a sturdy band,—<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Whose souls of sullen zeal<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Are made, by the Immortal Hand<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Invulnerable steel!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A kneeling host,—a pause of prayer,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A single voice thrills through the air<br /></span> +<span class="i3">"They come. Up, Ironsides!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For <span class="smcap">Truth</span> and <span class="smcap">Peace</span> unsparing smite!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Behold the accursed Amalekite!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Dreamer's heart beat high and loud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, calmly through the carnage-cloud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The scourge and servant of the Lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This hand the Bible—that the sword—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Phantom-Cromwell rides!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">A lurid darkness swallows the array,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">One moment lost—the darkness rolls away,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And, o'er the slaughter done,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Smiles, with his eyes of love, the setting Sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Death makes our foe our brother;<br /></span> +<span class="i3">And, meekly, side by side,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Sleep scowling Hate and sternly smiling Pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the kind breast of Earth, the quiet Mother!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lo, where the victor sweeps along,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Gideon of the gory throng,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beneath his hoofs the harmless dead—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The aureole on his helmèd head—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before him steel-clad Victory bending,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Around, from earth to heaven ascending<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fiery incense of triumphant song.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 190]</span><span class="i2">So, as some orb, above a mighty stream<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sway'd by its law, and sparkling in its beam,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A power apart from that tempestuous tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm and aloft, behold the Phantom-Conqueror ride!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"Art thou content—of these the greatest Thou,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hero and Patriot?" murmur'd then the Fiend.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The unsleeping Dreamer answer'd, "Tempter, nay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My soul stands breathless on the mountain's brow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And looks <i>beyond</i>!" Again swift darkness screen'd<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The solemn Chieftain and the fierce array,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And armèd Glory pass'd, like happier Peace, away.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VI.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">He look'd again, and saw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A chamber with funereal sables hung,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wherein there lay a ghastly, headless thing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That once had been a king—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by the corpse a living man, whose doom,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had both been left to Nature's gradual law,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were riper for the garner-house of gloom.<a name="FNanchor_R_54" id="FNanchor_R_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_R_54" class="fnanchor">[R]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rudely beside the gory clay were flung<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Norman sceptre and the Saxon crown;<a name="FNanchor_S_55" id="FNanchor_S_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_S_55" class="fnanchor">[S]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, after some imperial Tragedy<br /></span> +<span class="i2">August alike with sorrow and renown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We smile to see the gauds that moved our awe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Purple and orb, in dusty lumber lie,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas, what thousands, on the stage of Time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Envied the baubles, and revered the Mine!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Placed by the trunk—with long and whitening hair<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By dark-red gouts besprent, the sever'd head<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Up to the Gazer's musing eyes, the while,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Look'd with its livid brow and stony smile.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On that sad scene, his gaze the Dreamer fed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Familiar both the Living and the Dead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Terror, and hate, and strife concluded there,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Calm in his six-feet realm the monarch lay;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And by the warning victim's mangled clay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Phantom-Cromwell smiled,—and bending down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With shadowy fingers toy'd about the shadowy crown.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Art thou content at last?—a Greater thou<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 191]</span><span class="i1">Than one to whom the loftiest bent the knee.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">First in thy fierce Republic of the Free,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Avenger and Deliverer?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">"Fiend," replied<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Dreamer, "who shall palter with the tide?—<br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>Deliverer!</i> Pilots who the vessel save<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Leave not the helm while winds are on the wave.<br /></span> +<span class="i1"><span class="smcap">The Future</span> is the Haven of <span class="smcap">the Now</span>!"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"True," quoth the Fiend—Again the darkness spread,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And night gave back to air the Doomsman and the Dead!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">"See," cried the Fiend;—he views<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A lofty Senate stern with many a form<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Not unfamiliar to the earlier strife;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Knit were the brows—and passion flush'd the hues,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And all were hush'd!—that, hush which is in life<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As in the air, prophetic of a storm.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">Uprose a shape<a name="FNanchor_T_56" id="FNanchor_T_56"></a><a href="#Footnote_T_56" class="fnanchor">[T]</a> with dark bright eye;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">It spoke—and at the word<br /></span> +<span class="i3">The Dreamer breathed an angry sigh;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And starting—clutch'd his sword;<br /></span> +<span class="i3">An instinct bade him hate and fear<br /></span> +<span class="i3">That unknown shape—as if a foe were near—<br /></span> +<span class="i3">For, mighty in that mien of thoughtful youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Spoke Fraud's most deadly foe—a soul on fire with Truth;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A soul without one stain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Save England's hallowing tears;—the sad and starry Vane.<br /></span> +<span class="i5">There enter'd on that conclave high<br /></span> +<span class="i5">A solitary Man!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And rustling through the conclave high<br /></span> +<span class="i5">A troubled murmur ran;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A moment more—loud riot all—<br /></span> +<span class="i3">With pike and morion gleam'd the startled hall:<br /></span> +<span class="i5">And there, where, since the primal date<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Of Freedom's glorious morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i5">The eternal People solemn sate,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">The People's Champion spat his ribald scorn!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dark moral to all ages!—Blent in one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The broken fasces and the shatter'd throne;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The deed that damns immortally is done;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And <span class="smcap">Force</span>, the Cain of Nations-reigns alone!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 192]</span><span class="i1">The veil is rent—the crafty soul lies bare!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Behold," the Demon cried, "the <i>Future</i> Cromwell, there!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Art thou content, on earth the Greatest thou,<br /></span> +<span class="i1"><span class="smcap">Apostate and Usurper</span>?"—From his rest<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Dreamer started with a heaving breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The better angels of the human heart<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not dumb to his,—The Hell-Born laugh'd aloud,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And o'er the Evil Vision rush'd the cloud!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnotes"> +<h4>FOOTNOTES</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_37" id="Footnote_A_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_37"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Talma.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_38" id="Footnote_B_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_38"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Certainly the sculptor of the Farnese Hercules well conceived that ideal +character of the demi-god, which makes Aristotle (Prob. 30) class the grand +Personification of Labour amongst the Melancholy. It is the union of mournful +repose with colossal power, which gives so profound a moral sentiment +to that masterpiece of art.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_39" id="Footnote_C_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_39"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Aus den Saiten, wie aus ihren Himmeln,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Neugebor'ne Seraphim."—<i>Schiller.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_40" id="Footnote_D_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_40"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> Libitina, the Venus who presided over funerals.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_E_41" id="Footnote_E_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_41"><span class="label">[E]</span></a> Mary Stuart—"the soft Medusa" is an expression strikingly applied to +her in her own day.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_F_42" id="Footnote_F_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_F_42"><span class="label">[F]</span></a> See the correspondence maintained by Francis Bacon and Robert Cecil +(the sons of Elizabeth's most faithful friends) with the Scottish court, during +the Queen's last illness.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_G_43" id="Footnote_G_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_G_43"><span class="label">[G]</span></a> "It was after labouring for nearly three weeks under a morbid melancholy, +which brought on a stupor not unmixed with some indications of a disordered +fancy, that the Queen expired."—<i>Aikin's translation of a Latin letter (author +unknown) to Edmund Lambert.</i> +</p><p> +Robert Carey, who was admitted to an interview with Elizabeth in her last +illness, after describing the passionate anguish of her sighs, observes, "that in +all his lifetime before, he never knew her fetch a sigh but when the Queen of +Scots was beheaded." Yet this Robert Carey, the well-born mendicant of her +bounty, was the first whose eager haste and joyous countenance told James +that the throne of the Tudors was at last vacant.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_H_44" id="Footnote_H_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_H_44"><span class="label">[H]</span></a> "When she (Elizabeth) was conducted through London amidst the joyful +acclamations of her subjects, a boy, who personated Truth, was let down from +one of the triumphal arches, and presented to her a copy of the Bible. She +received the book with the most gracious deportment, placed it next her +bosom," &c.—<span class="smcap">Hume.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_I_45" id="Footnote_I_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_I_45"><span class="label">[I]</span></a> Robert Dudley, afterwards the Leicester of doubtful fame, attended +Elizabeth in her passage to the Tower. The streets, as she passed along, +were spread with the finest gravel; banners and pennons, hangings of silk, +of velvet, of cloth of gold, were suspended from the balconies; musicians and +singers were stationed amidst the populace, as she rode along in her purple +robes, preceded by her heralds, &c.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_J_46" id="Footnote_J_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_J_46"><span class="label">[J]</span></a> The customary phrase was "<i>Laissez aller</i>."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_K_47" id="Footnote_K_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_K_47"><span class="label">[K]</span></a> "The Life of Sir Philip Sidney," as Campbell finely expresses it, "was +Poetry put in action." With him died the Provençal and the Norman—the +Ideal of the Middle Ages.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_L_48" id="Footnote_L_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_L_48"><span class="label">[L]</span></a> "I know I have but the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the +heart of a king, and of a king of England, too." +</p><p> +She rode bareheaded through the ranks, a page bearing her helmet, mounted +on a war-horse, clad in steel, and wielding a general's truncheon in her hand.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_M_49" id="Footnote_M_49"></a><a href="#FNanchor_M_49"><span class="label">[M]</span></a> "Sextus Quintus, the present Pope, famous for his capacity and his tyranny, +had published a crusade against England, and had granted plenary indulgences +to every one engaged in the present invasion."—<span class="smcap">Hume.</span> This Pope was, +nevertheless, Elizabeth's admirer as well as foe, and said, "If a son could be +born from us two, he would be master of the world."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_N_50" id="Footnote_N_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_N_50"><span class="label">[N]</span></a> Λαϐε, λαϐε, λαϐε, λαϐε, (seize, seize, seize).—<i>Æschyl. Eumen.</i>, 125.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_O_51" id="Footnote_O_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_O_51"><span class="label">[O]</span></a> The farm of St. Ives, where Cromwell spent three years, which he afterwards +recalled with regret—though not unafflicted with dark hypochondria and +sullen discontent. Here, as Mr. Forster impressively observes, "in the +tenants that rented from him, in the labourers that served under him, he +sought to sow the seeds of his after troop of Ironsides.... <i>All the famous +doctrines of his later and more celebrated years were tried and tested in the little +farm of St. Ives....</i> Before going to their field-work in the morning, they +(his servants) knelt down with their master in the touching equality of prayer; +in the evening they shared with him again the comfort and exaltation of divine +precepts."—<span class="smcap">Forster's</span> <i>Cromwell</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_P_52" id="Footnote_P_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_P_52"><span class="label">[P]</span></a> Prince Rupert.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_Q_53" id="Footnote_Q_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_Q_53"><span class="label">[Q]</span></a> Henrietta Maria was the popular battle-cry of the Cavaliers.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_R_54" id="Footnote_R_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_R_54"><span class="label">[R]</span></a> The reader will recall the well-known story of Cromwell opening the coffin +of Charles with the hilt of a private soldier's sword, and, after gazing on the +body for some time, observing calmly, that it seemed made for long life,— +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Had Nature been his executioner,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He would have outlived me!"—<i>Cromwell</i>, a MS. tragedy.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_S_55" id="Footnote_S_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_S_55"><span class="label">[S]</span></a> King Alfred's crown was actually sold after the execution of Charles the +First.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_T_56" id="Footnote_T_56"></a><a href="#FNanchor_T_56"><span class="label">[T]</span></a> When Cromwell came down (leaving his musketeers without the door) to +dissolve the Long Parliament, Vane was in the act of urging, through the last +stage, the Bill that would have saved the republic—See Forster's spirited +account of this scene, <i>Life of Vane</i>, p. 152.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 193]</span></p> +<h1><a name="KING_ARTHUR" id="KING_ARTHUR"></a>KING ARTHUR.</h1> +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 194]</span></p> +<h3>PREFACE.</h3> + + +<p>In prefixing to this poem a brief explanation of its design, I feel +myself involuntarily compelled to refer to the more popular distinctions +of Epic Fable, though I do not thereby presume to arrogate to my +work that title of Epic which Time alone has the prerogative to confer.</p> + +<p>Pope has, accurately and succinctly, defined the three cardinal divisions +of Epic Fable to consist in the Probable, the Allegorical, and the +Marvellous. For the Probable is indispensable to the vital interest of +the action, the Marvellous is the obvious domain of creative invention, +and the Allegorical is the most pleasing mode of insinuating some +subtler truth, or clothing some profounder moral.</p> + +<p>I accept these divisions, because they conform to the simplest principles +of rational criticism; and though their combination does not +form an Epic, it serves at least to amplify the region and elevate the +objects of Romance.</p> + +<p>It has been my aim so to blend these divisions, that each may harmonize +with the other, and all conduce to the end proposed from the +commencement. I have admitted but little episodical incident, and +none that does not grow out of what Pope terms "the platform of the +story." For the marvellous agencies I have not presumed to make +direct use of that Divine Machinery which the war of the Christian +Principle with the form of Heathenism might have suggested to the +sublime daring of Milton, had he prosecuted his original idea of founding +an heroic poem upon the legendary existence of Arthur;—and, on +the other hand, the Teuton Mythology, however imaginative and profound, +is too unfamiliar and obscure, to permit its employment as an +open and visible agency;—such reference to it as occurs, is therefore +rather admitted as an appropriate colouring to the composition, than +made an integral part of the materials of the canvas: and, not to ask +from the ordinary reader an erudition I should have no right to expect, +the reference so made is in the simplest form, and disentangled from +the necessity of other information than a few brief notes will suffice +to afford.</p> + +<p>In taking my subject from chivalrous romance, I take, then, those +agencies from the Marvellous which chivalrous romance naturally and +familiarly affords—the Fairy, the Genius, the Enchanter: not wholly, +indeed, in the precise and literal spirit with which our nursery tales +receive those creations of Fancy through the medium of French +Fabliaux, but in the larger significations by which, in their conceptions +of the Supernatural, our fathers often implied the secrets of +Nature. For the Romance from which I borrow is the Romance of +the North—a Romance, like the Northern mythology, full of typical +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 195]</span> +meaning and latent import. The gigantic remains of symbol-worship +are visible amidst the rude fables of the Scandinavians, and what little +is left to us of the earlier and more indigenous literature of the +Cymrians, is characterized by a mysticism profound with parable. +This fondness for an interior or double meaning is the most prominent +attribute in that Romance popularly called The Gothic, the feature +most in common with all creations that bear the stamp of the Northern +fancy: we trace it in the poems of the Anglo-Saxons; it returns to us, +in our earliest poems after the Conquest; it does not <i>originate</i> in the +Oriental genius (immemorially addicted to Allegory), but it instinctively +<i>appropriates</i> all that Saraconic invention can suggest to the +more sombre imagination of the North—it unites to the Serpent of the +Edda the flying Griffin of Arabia, the Persian Genius to the Scandinavian +Trold,—and wherever it accepts a marvel, it seeks to insinuate +a type. This peculiarity, which distinguishes the spiritual essence of +the modern from the sensual character of ancient poetry, especially the +Roman, is visible wherever a tribe allied to the Goth, the Frank, or the +Teuton, carries with it the deep mysteries of the Christian faith. Even +in sunny Provence it transfuses a subtler and graver moral into the lays +of the joyous troubadour,<a name="FNanchor_A_57" id="FNanchor_A_57"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_57" class="fnanchor">[A]</a>—and weaves "The Dance of Death" by the +joyous streams, and through the glowing orange-groves, of Spain. Onwards, +this under-current of meaning flowed, through the various +phases of civilization:—it pervaded alike the popular Satire and the +dramatic Mystery;—and, preserving its thoughtful calm amidst all the +stirring passions that agitated mankind in the age subsequent to the +Reformation, not only suffused the luxuriant fancy of the dreamy +Spenser, but communicated to the practical intellect of Shakspere +that subtle and recondite wisdom which seems the more inexhaustible +the more it is examined, and suggests to every new inquirer some new +problem in the philosophy of Human Life. Thus, in taking from +Northern Romance the Marvellous, we are most faithful to the genuine +character of that Romance, when we take with the Marvellous its old +companion, the Typical or Allegorical. But these form only two divisions +of the three which I have assumed as the components of the unity +I seek to accomplish; there remains the Probable, which contains the +Actual. To subject the whole poem to allegorical constructions would +be erroneous, and opposed to the vital principle of a work of this kind, +which needs the support of direct and human interest. The inner and +the outer meaning of Fable should flow together, each acting on the +other, as the thought and the action in the life of a man. It is true that in +order clearly to interpret the action, we should penetrate to the thought. +But if we fail of that perception, the action, though less comprehended, +still impresses its reality on our senses, and make its appeal to our +interest.</p> + +<p>I have thus sought to maintain the Probable through that chain of +incident in which human agencies are employed, and through those +agencies the direct action of the Poem is accomplished; while the +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 196]</span> +Allegorical admits into the Marvellous the introduction of that subtler +form of Truth, which if less positive than the Actual, is wider in its +application, and ought to be more profound in its significance.</p> + +<p>For the rest, it may perhaps be conceded that this poem is not +without originality in the conception of its plot and the general treatment +of its details. I am not aware of any previous romantic poem +which it resembles in its main design, or in the character of its principal +incidents;—and, though I may have incurred certain mannerisms of +my own day, I yet venture to trust that, in the pervading form or style, +the mind employed has been sufficiently in earnest to leave its own +peculiar effigy and stamp upon the work. For the incidents narrated, +I may, indeed, thank the nature of my subject, if many of them could +scarcely fail to be new. The celebrated poets of chivalrous fable—Ariosto, +Tasso, and Spenser, have given to their scenery the colourings +of the West. The Great North from which Chivalry sprung—its polar +seas, its natural wonders, its wild legends, its antediluvian remains—(wide +fields for poetic description and heroic narrative)—have been, +indeed, not wholly unexplored by poetry, but so little appropriated, +that even after Tegner and Oehlenschläger, I dare to hope that I have +found tracks in which no poet has preceded me, and over which yet +breathes the native air of our National Romance.</p> + +<p>For the Manners preserved through this poem, I naturally reject +those which the rigid Antiquary would appropriate to the date of that +Historical Arthur, of whom we know so little, and take those of the age +in which the Arthur of Romance, whom we know so well, revived into +fairer life at the breath of Minstrel and Fabliast. The anachronism of +chivalrous manners and costume for the British chief and his Knighthood, +is absolutely required by all our familiar associations. On the +other hand, without affecting any precise accuracy in details, I have +kept the country of the brave Prince of the Silures (or South Wales) +somewhat more definitely in view, than has been done by the French +Romance writers; while in portraying his Saxon foes, I have endeavoured +to distinguish their separate nationality, without enforcing too +violent a contrast between the rudeness of the heathen Teutons and the +<i>polished Christianity of the Cymrian Knighthood</i>.<a name="FNanchor_B_58" id="FNanchor_B_58"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_58" class="fnanchor">[B]</a></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 197]</span></p> +<p>May I be permitted to say a word as to the metre I have selected?—One +advantage it has,—that while thoroughly English, and not uncultivated +by the best of the elder masters, it has never been applied to +a poem of equal length, and has not been made too trite and familiar, +by the lavish employment of recent writers.<a name="FNanchor_C_59" id="FNanchor_C_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_59" class="fnanchor">[C]</a> Shakspere has taught +us its riches in the Venus and Adonis,—Spenser in The Astrophel,—Cowley +has sounded its music amidst the various intonations of his +irregular lyre. But of late years, if not wholly laid aside, it has been +generally neglected for the more artificial and complicated Spenserian +stanza, which may seem, at the first glance, to resemble it, but which +to the ear is widely different in rhythm and construction.</p> + +<p>The reader may perhaps remember that Dryden has spoken with +emphatic praise of the "quatrain, or stanza of four in alternate +rhyme." He says indeed, "that he had ever judged it more noble, +and of greater dignity, both for the sound and number, than any other +verse in use amongst us." That metre, in its simple integrity, is comprised +in the stanza selected, ending in the vigour and terseness of the +rhyming couplet, with which, for the most part, the picture should be +closed or the sense clenched. And whatever the imperfection of my +own treatment of this variety in poetic form, I hazard a prediction that +it will be ultimately revived into more frequent use, especially in narrative, +and that its peculiar melodies of rhythm and cadence, as well as the +just and measured facilities it affords to expression, neither too diffuse +nor too restricted, will be recognized hereafter in the hands of a more +accomplished master of our language.</p> + +<p>Here ends all that I feel called upon to say respecting a Poem which +I now acknowledge as the child of my most cherished hopes, and to +which I deliberately confide the task to uphold, and the chance to +continue, its father's name.</p> + +<p>To this work, conceived first in the enthusiasm of youth, I have +patiently devoted the best powers of my maturer years;—if it be +worthless, it is at least the worthiest contribution that my abilities +enable me to offer to the literature of my country; and I am unalterably +convinced, that on this foundation I rest the least perishable +monument of those thoughts and those labours which have made the +life of my life.</p> + +<p class="author">E. BULWER LYTTON.</p> + + +<h3>NOTE.</h3> + +<p>Of the notes inserted in the first edition I have retained only those +which appeared to me absolutely necessary in explanation of the text. +Among the notes omitted, was one appended to Book I., which defended +at some length, and by numerous examples, two alleged peculiarities of +style or mannerism:—I content myself here with stating briefly—</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 198]</span></p> +<p>1st.—That in this work (as in my later ones generally) I have adopted +what appears to me to have been the practice of Gray (judging from +the editions of his Poems revised by himself), in the use of the capital +initial. I prefix it—</p> + +<p>First, to every substantive that implies a personification; thus War, +Fame, &c., may in one line take the small initial as mere nouns, and in +another line the capital initial, to denote that they are intended as personifications. +This rule is clear—all personifications may be said to +represent proper names: love, with a small l, means but a passion or +affection; with a large L, Love represents some mythological power +that presides over the passion or affection, and is as much a proper +name as Venus, Eros, Camdeo, &c.</p> + +<p>Secondly, I prefix the capital in those rare instances in which an +adjective is used as a noun; as the Unknown, the Obscure,<a name="FNanchor_D_60" id="FNanchor_D_60"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_60" class="fnanchor">[D]</a> &c. The +capital here but answers the use of all printed inventions, in simplifying +to the reader the author's meaning. If it be printed "he passed through +the obscure," the reader naturally looks for the noun that is to follow +the adjective; if the capital initial be used, as "He passed through the +Obscure," the eye conveys to the mind without an effort the author's +intention to use the adjective as a substantive.</p> + +<p>Thirdly, I prefix the capital initial where it serves to give an individual +application to words that might otherwise convey only a general +meaning; for instance—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Or his who loves the madding Nymphs to lead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er the Fork'd Hill.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>that is, the Forked Hill, <i>par emphasis</i>,—Parnassus.</p> + +<p>The use of the capital in these instances seems to me warranted by +common sense, and the best authorities in the minor niceties of our +language.</p> + +<p>With regard to the other point referred to in the omitted note, I +would observe, that I have deliberately used the freest licence in the +rapid change of tense from past to present, or <i>vice versâ</i>; as a privilege +essential to all ease, spirit, force, and variety, in narrative poetry; and +warranted by the uniform practice of Pope, Dryden, and Milton. I +subjoin a few examples:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"So <i>prayed</i> they, innocent, and to their thoughts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Firm peace recover'd soon and wonted calm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On to their morning's rural work they <i>haste</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among sweet dews and flowers, where any row<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of fruit-trees over-woody reach'd too far<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their pamper'd boughs, and needed hands to check<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fruitless embraces; or they <i>led</i> the vine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To wed the elm."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="rfrnce"><span class="smcap">Milton's</span> <i>Paradise Lost</i>, Book v., from line 209 to 216.</p> + + +<p>Here the tense changes three times.</p> + +<p>Again:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Straight <i>knew</i> him all the bands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of angels under watch, and to his state<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to his message high in honour <i>rise</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For on some message high they <i>guess'd</i> him bound."<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="rfrnce"><i>Ibid.</i>, Book v., from line 288 to 291.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 199]</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thus while he spoke, the virgin from the ground<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Upstarted</i> fresh; already closed the wound;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And unconcern'd for all she felt before,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Precipitates</i> her flight along the shore:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hell-hounds as ungorged with flesh and blood<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Pursue</i> their prey and seek their wonted food;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fiend remounts his courser, mends his pace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the vision <i>vanish'd</i> from the place."<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="rfrnce"><span class="smcap">Dryden's</span> <i>Theod. and Honor</i>.</p> + +<p>Pope—not without reason esteemed for verbal correctness and precision—far +exceeds all in his lavish use of this privilege, as one or two +quotations will amply suffice to show.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"She said, and to the steeds approaching near<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Drew</i> from his seat the martial charioteer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The vigorous Power<a name="FNanchor_E_61" id="FNanchor_E_61"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_61" class="fnanchor">[E]</a> the trembling car <i>ascends</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fierce for revenge, and Diomed <i>attends</i>:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The groaning axle <i>bent</i> beneath the load," &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="rfrnce"><span class="smcap">Pope's</span> <i>Iliad</i>, Book v.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Pierced through the shoulder first Decopis <i>fell</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Next Eunomus and Thoon <i>sunk</i> to Hell.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chersidamas, beneath the navel thrust,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Falls</i> prone to earth, and <i>grasps</i> the bloody dust;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cherops, the son of Hipposus, <i>was</i> near;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ulysses reach'd him with the fatal spear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But to his aid his brother Socus <i>flies</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Socus the brave, the generous, and the wise;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Near as he <i>drew</i> the warrior thus <i>began</i>," &c.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="rfrnce"><i>Ibid.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Behind, unnumber'd multitudes <i>attend</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">To flank the navy and the shores defend.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full on the front the pressing Trojans bear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Hector first <i>came</i> towering to the war.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Phœbus himself the rushing battle <i>led</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A veil of clouds involves his radiant head—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Greeks <i>expect</i> the shock; the clamours rise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From different parts and <i>mingle</i> in the skies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dire <i>was</i> the hiss of darts by heaven flung,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And arrows, leaping from the bowstring, <i>sung</i>:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These <i>drink</i> the life of generous warrior slain—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those guiltless <i>fall</i> and <i>thirst</i> for blood in vain."<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="rfrnce"><span class="smcap">Pope's</span> <i>Odyssey</i>.</p> + + +<p>In the last quotation, brief as it is, the tense changes six times.</p> + +<p>I ask indulgence of the reader if I take this occasion to add a very +short comment upon three objections to this poem which have been +brought under my notice:—</p> + +<p>1—that it contains too much learning; 2—that it abounds too +much with classical allusions; 3—that it indulges in rare words or +archaisms.</p> + +<p>I wish I could plead guilty to the honourable charge that it contains +too much learning. A distinguished critic has justly observed, that the +greatest obstacle which the modern writer attempting an Epic would +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 200]</span> +have to encounter, would be, in his utter impossibility to attain the +requisite learning. For an Epic ought to embody the whole learning +of the period in which it is composed; and in the present age that is +beyond the aspiration of the most erudite scholar or the profoundest +philosopher. Still, any attempt at an Heroic Poem must at least comprise +all the knowledge which the nature of the subject will admit, and +we cannot but observe that the greatest narrative poems are those in +which the greatest amount of learning is contained. Beyond all comparison +the most learned poems that exist, in reference to the age in +which they are composed, are the "Iliad" and "Odyssey;" next to +them, the "Paradise Lost;" next to that, the "Æneid," in which the +chief charm of the six latter books is in that "exquisite erudition," +which Müller so discriminately admires in Virgil; and after these, +in point of learning, come perhaps the "Divine Comedy," and the +"Fairy Queen." So that I have only to regret my deficiency of learning, +rather than to apologize for the excess of it.</p> + +<p>With regard to the classical allusions which I have permitted myself, +I might shelter my practice under the mantles of our great masters in +heroic song—Milton and Spenser; but in fact such admixture of the +Classic with the Gothic muse is so essentially the characteristic of the +minstrelsy of the middle ages, that without a liberal use of the same combination, +I could not have preserved the colouring proper to my subject. +And, indeed, I think the advice which one of the most elegant of modern +critics has given to the painter, is equally applicable to the poet:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Non te igitur lateant antiqua numismata, gemmæ,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quodque refert specie veterum post sæcula mentem;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Splendidior quippe ex illis assurgit imago<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Magnaque se rerum facies aperit meditanti."<a name="FNanchor_F_62" id="FNanchor_F_62"></a><a href="#Footnote_F_62" class="fnanchor">[F]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Lastly, the moderate use of archaisms has always been deemed admissible +in a narrative poem of some length, and rather perhaps an +ornament than a defect, where the action of the poem is laid in remote +antiquity. And I may add that not only the revival of old, but the +invention of new words, if sparingly resorted to, is among the least +contestable of poetic licences—a licence freely recognized by Horace, +elaborately maintained by Dryden, and tacitly sanctioned, age after +age, by the practice of every poet by whom our language has been +enriched. I have certainly not abused either of these privileges, for +while I have only adopted three new words of foreign derivation, I do +not think there are a dozen words in the whole poem which can be +considered archaisms: and in the three or four instances in which such +words are not to be found in Milton, Shakspere, or Spenser, they are +taken from the Saxon element of our language, and are still popularly +used in the northern parts of the island, in which that Saxon element +is more tenaciously preserved.</p> + +<p>If these matters do not seem to the reader of much importance, in +reference to a poem of this design and extent, I will own to him confidentially, +that I incline to his opinion. But I have met with no +objections to the general composition of this work, more serious than +those to which the above remarks are intended to reply. Some objections +to special lines or stanzas which appeared to me prompted by a +juster criticism, or which occurred to myself in reperusal, I have +carefully endeavoured in this edition to remove.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"> +<p class="center"><b>FOOTNOTES</b></p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_57" id="Footnote_A_57"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_57"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Rien n'est plus commun dans la poésie provençale que l'allégorie; seulement +elle est un jeu-d'esprit an lieu d'être une action.... Une autre analogie +me parait plus spoutanée qu'imitée—la poésie des troubadours qu'on suppose +frivole, a souvent retracée des sentiments graves et touchants," &c.—<span class="smcap">Villemain</span>, +<i>Tableau du Moyen Age</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_58" id="Footnote_B_58"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_58"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> In the more historical view of the position of Arthur, I have, however, +represented it such as it really appears to have been,—not as the sovereign of +all Britain, and the conquering invader of Europe (according to the groundless +fable of Geoffrey of Monmouth), but as the patriot Prince of South Wales, +resisting successfully the invasion of his own native soil, and accomplishing +the object of his career in preserving entire the nationality of his Welsh countrymen. +In thus contracting his sphere of action to the bounds of rational +truth, his dignity, both moral and poetic, is obviously enhanced. Represented +as the champion of all Britain against the Saxons, his life would have been but +a notorious and signal failure; but as the preserver of the Cymrian Nationality—of +that part of the British population which took refuge in Wales, he has a +claim to the epic glory of success. +</p><p> +It is for this latter reason that I have gone somewhat out of the strict letter +of history, in the poetical licence by which the Mercians are represented as +Arthur's principal enemies (though, properly speaking, the Mercian kingdom +was not then founded): the alliance between the Mercian and the Welsh, +which concludes the Poem—is at least not contrary to the spirit of History—since +in very early periods such amicable bonds between the Welsh and the Mercians +were contracted, and the Welsh, on the whole, were on better terms with +those formidable borderers than with the other branches of the Saxon family.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_59" id="Footnote_C_59"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_59"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> Southey has used it in the "Lay of the Laureate" and "The Poet's +Pilgrimage,"—not his best-known and most considerable poems.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_60" id="Footnote_D_60"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_60"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> So Pope, "Spencer himself affects the Obsolete."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_E_61" id="Footnote_E_61"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_61"><span class="label">[E]</span></a> In the corrupt and thoughtless mode of printing now in vogue, Power is of +course printed with a small p, and the sense of the clearest of all English poets +instantly becomes obscure. +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The vigorous power the trembling car ascends."<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +It is not till one has read the line twice over that one perceives "the power" +means "the God," which, when printed "the Power," is obvious at a glance.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_F_62" id="Footnote_F_62"></a><a href="#FNanchor_F_62"><span class="label">[F]</span></a> <span class="smcap">Du Fresnoy</span> <i>de Arte Graphicâ</i>.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 201]</span></p> +<h2>BOOK I.</h2> + +<h4>ARGUMENT.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Opening—King Arthur keeps holiday in the Vale of Carduel—Pastimes—Arthur's +sentiments on life, love, and mortal change—The strange apparition—The +King follows the Phantom into the forest—His return—The discomfiture +of his knights—the Court disperses—Night—The restless King ascends +his battlements—His soliloquy—He is attracted by the light from the +Wizard's tower—Merlin described—The King's narrative—The Enchanter's +invocation—Morning—The Tilt-yard—Sports, knightly and national—Merlin's +address to Arthur—The Three Labours enjoined—Arthur departs from +Carduel—His absence explained by Merlin to the Council—Description of +Arthur's three friends, Caradoc, Gawaine, and Lancelot—The especial love +between Arthur and the last—Lancelot encounters Arthur—The parting of +the friends.</p></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Our land's first legends, love and knightly deeds,<span class='linenum'>1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And wondrous Merlin, and his wandering King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The triple labour, and the glorious meeds<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sought in the world of Fable-land, I sing:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go forth, O Song, amidst the banks of old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And glide translucent over sands of gold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now is the time when, after sparkling showers,<span class='linenum'>2</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her starry wreaths the virgin jasmine weaves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now murmurous bees return with sunny hours;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And light wings rustic quick through glinting leaves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Music in every bough; on mead and lawn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May lifts her fragrant altars to the dawn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now life, with every moment, seems to start<span class='linenum'>3</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">In air, in wave, on earth—above, below;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And o'er her new-born children, Nature's heart<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Heaves with the gladness mothers only know;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On poet times the month of poets shone—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May deck'd the world, and Arthur fill'd the throne.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hard by a stream, amidst a pleasant vale<span class='linenum'>4</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">King Arthur held his careless holiday:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stream was blithe with many a silken sail,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The vale with many a proud pavilion gay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Cymri's dragon, from the Roman's hold,<a name="FNanchor_1_63" id="FNanchor_1_63"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_63" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spread with calm wing o'er Carduel's domes of gold.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 202]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dark, to the right, thick forests mantled o'er<span class='linenum'>5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">A gradual mountain sloping to the plain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose gloom but lent to light a charm the more,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As pleasure pleases most when neighbouring pain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all our human joys most sweet and holy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sport in the shadows cast from Melancholy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Below that mount, along the glossy sward<span class='linenum'>6</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Were gentle groups, discoursing gentle things;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or listening idly where the skilful bard<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Woke the sweet tempest of melodious strings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or whispering love—I ween, less idle they,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For love's the honey in the flowers of May.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some plied in lusty race the glist'ning oar;<span class='linenum'>7</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Some, noiseless, snared the silver-scalèd prey;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some wreathed the dance along the level shore;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And each was happy in his chosen way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not by one shaft is Care, the hydra kill'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So Mirth, determined, had his quiver fill'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bright 'mid his blooming Court, like royal Morn<span class='linenum'>8</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Girt with the Hours that lead the jocund Spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When to its smile delight and flowers are born,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And clouds are rose-hued,—shone the Cymrian King.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above that group, o'er-arch'd from tree to tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thick garlands hung their odorous canopy;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And in the midst of that delicious shade<span class='linenum'>9</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Up sprang a sparkling fountain, silver-voiced,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the bee murmur'd and the breezes play'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In their gay youth, the youth of May rejoiced—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they in hers—as though that leafy hall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chimed the heart's laughter with the fountain's fall.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Propped on his easy arm, the King reclined,<span class='linenum'>10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And glancing gaily round the ring, quoth he—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"'Man,' say our sages, 'hath a fickle mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And pleasures pall, if long enjoyed they be.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I, methinks, like this soft summer-day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Mid blooms and sweets could wear the hours away;—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Feel, in the eyes of Love, a cloudless sun,<span class='linenum'>11</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Taste, in the breath of Love, eternal spring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could age but keep the joys that youth has won,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The human heart would fold its idle wing!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If change there be in Fate and Nature's plan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherefore blame us?—it is in Time, not Man."<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 203]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He spoke, and from the happy conclave there<span class='linenum'>12</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Echo'd the murmur, "Time is but to blame:"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each knight glanced amorous on his chosen fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And to the glance blush'd each assenting dame:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But thought had dimm'd the smile in Arthur's eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the light speech was rounded by a sigh.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And while they murmur'd "Time is but to blame,"<span class='linenum'>13</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Right in the centre of the silken ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sudden stood forth (none marking whence it came),<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The gloomy shade of some Phantasmal Thing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It stood, dim-outlined in a sable shroud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shapeless, as in noon-day hangs a cloud.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hush'd was each lip, and every cheek was pale;<span class='linenum'>14</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The stoutest heart beat tremulous and high:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Arise," it mutter'd from the spectral veil,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"I call thee, King!" Then burst the wrathful cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feet found the earth, and ready hands the sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And angry knighthood bristled round its lord.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But Arthur rose, and, waiving back the throng,<span class='linenum'>15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fronted the Image with a dauntless brow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then shrunk the Phantom, indistinct, along<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The unbending herbage, noiseless, dark, and slow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, where the forest night at noonday made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glided,—as from the dial glides the shade.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gone;—but an ice-bound horror seemed to cling<span class='linenum'>16</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To air; the revellers stood transfix'd to stone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While from amidst them, palely pass'd the King,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dragg'd by a will more royal than his own:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Onwards he went; the invisible control<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Compell'd him, as a dream compels the soul.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They saw, and sought to stay him, but in vain,<span class='linenum'>17</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">They saw, and sought to speak, but voice was dumb:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So Death some warrior from his armèd train<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Plucks forth defenceless when his hour is come.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He gains the wood; their sight the shadows bar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And darkness wraps him as the cloud a star.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Abruptly, as it came, the charm was past<span class='linenum'>18</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That bound the circle: as from heavy sleep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Starts the hush'd war-camp at the trumpet's blast,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fierce into life the voiceless revellers leap;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift to the wood the glittering tumult springs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And through the vale the shrill <small>BON-LEF-HER</small> rings.<a name="FNanchor_2_64" id="FNanchor_2_64"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_64" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 204]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From stream, from tent, from pastime near and far,<span class='linenum'>19</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">All press confusedly to the signal cry—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So from the <span class="smcap">Rock of Birds</span><a name="FNanchor_3_65" id="FNanchor_3_65"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_65" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> the shout of war<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sends countless wings in clamour through the sky—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cause a word, the track a sign affords,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the forest gleams with starry swords.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As on some stag the hunters single, gaze,<span class='linenum'>20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gathering together, and from far, the herd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So round the margin of the woodland-maze<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pale beauty circles, trembling if a bird<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flutter a bough, or if, without a sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some leaf fall breezeless, eddying to the ground.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An hour or more had towards the western seas<span class='linenum'>21</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Speeded the golden chariot of the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When a white plume came glancing through the trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The serried branches groaningly gave way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, with a bound, delivered from the wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Safe, in the sun-light, royal Arthur stood.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who shall express the joy that aspect woke!<span class='linenum'>22</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Some laugh'd aloud, and clapp'd their snowy hands:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some ran, some knelt, some turn'd aside and broke<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Into glad tears:—But all unheeding stands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The King; and shivers in the glowing light;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his breast heaves as panting from a fight.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet still in those pale features, seen more near,<span class='linenum'>23</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Speak the stern will, the soul to valour true;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It shames man not to feel man's human fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It shames man only if the fear subdue;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And masking trouble with a noble guile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon the proud heart restores the kingly smile.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But no account could anxious love obtain,<span class='linenum'>24</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor curious wonder, of the portents seen:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Bootless his search," he lightly said, "and vain<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As haply had the uncourteous summons been.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some mocking sport, perchance, of merry May."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He ceased; and, shuddering, turn'd his looks away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now back, alas! less comely than they went,<span class='linenum'>25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Drop, one by one, the seekers from the chace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With mangled plumes and mantles dreadly rent;—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sore bleed the Loves in Elphin's blooming face:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Madoc, whose dancing scarcely brush'd the dew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O grief! limps, crippled by a stump of yew!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 205]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In short, such pranks had brier and bramble play'd,<span class='linenum'>26</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And stock and stone, with vest, and face, and limb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That had some wretch denied the place was made<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For sprites, a sprite had soon been made of him!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sure, nought less than some demoniac power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had looks so sweet bewitch'd to lines so sour.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But shame and anger vanish'd when they saw<span class='linenum'>27</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Him whose warm smile a life had well repaid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For noble hearts a noble chief can draw<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Into that circle where all self doth fade;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lost in the sea a hundred waters roll,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And subject natures merge in one great soul.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now once again quick question, brief reply,<span class='linenum'>28</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"What saw, what heard the King?" Nay, gentles, what<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saw or heard ye?"—"The forest and the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The rustling branches,"—"And the Phantom not?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more," quoth Arthur, "of a thriftless chace.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For cheer so stinted brief may be the grace.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But see, the sun descendeth down the west,<span class='linenum'>29</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And graver cares to Carduel now recall:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gawaine, my steed;—Sweet ladies, gentle rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And dreams of happy morrows to ye all."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now stirs the movement on the busy plain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To horse—to boat; and homeward winds the train.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O'er hill, down stream, the pageant fades away,<span class='linenum'>30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">More and more faint the plash of dipping oar;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Voices, and music, and the steed's shrill neigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the grey twilight dying more and more;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till over stream and valley, wide and far,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reign the sad silence and the solemn star.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Save where, like some true poet's lonely soul,<span class='linenum'>31</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Careless who hears, sings on the unheeded fountain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Save where the thin clouds wanly, slowly roll<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'er the mute darkness of the forest mountain—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where, haply, busied with unholy rite,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still glides that Phantom, and dismays the night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sleep, the sole angel left of all below,<span class='linenum'>32</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'er the lull'd city sheds the ambrosial wreaths,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wet with the dews of Eden; Bliss and Woe<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Are equals, and the lowest slave that breathes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the shelter of those healing wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reigns, half his life, in realms too fair for Kings.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 206]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Too fair those realms for Arthur; long he lay<span class='linenum'>33</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">An exiled suppliant at the gate of dreams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And vex'd, and wild, and fitful as a ray<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quivering upon the surge of stormy streams;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thought broke in glimmering trouble o'er his breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And found no billow where its beam could rest.<a name="FNanchor_4_66" id="FNanchor_4_66"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_66" class="fnanchor">[4]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He rose, and round him drew his ermined gown,<span class='linenum'>34</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pass'd from his chamber, wound the turret stair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from his castle's steep embattled crown<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bared his hot forehead to the fresh'ning air.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How Silence, like a god's tranquillity,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fill'd with delighted peace the conscious sky!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Broad, luminous, serene, the sovereign moon<span class='linenum'>35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shone o'er the roofs below, the lands afar—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The vale so joyous with the mirth at noon;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The pastures virgin of the lust of war;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the still river shining as it flows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm as a soul on which the heavens repose.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And must these pass from me and mine away?"<span class='linenum'>36</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Murmur'd the monarch; "Must the mountain home<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of those whose fathers, in a ruder day,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With naked bosoms rush'd on shrinking Rome,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yield this last refuge from the ruthless wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And what was Britain be the Saxon's slave?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Why hymn our harps high music in our hall?<span class='linenum'>37</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Doom'd is the tree whose fruit was noble deeds—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the axe spared the thunder-bolt must fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the wind scatter as it list the seeds!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fate breathes, and kingdoms wither at the breath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But kings are deathless, kingly if their death!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He ceased, and look'd, with a defying eye,<span class='linenum'>38</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where the dark forest clothed the mount with awe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gazed, and then proudly turn'd;—when lo, hard by,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From a lone turret in his keep, he saw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the horn casement, a clear steadfast light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lending meek tribute to the orbs of night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And far, and far, I ween, that little ray<span class='linenum'>39</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sent its pure streamlet through the world of air:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wanderer oft, benighted on his way,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Saw it, and paused in superstitious prayer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For well he knew the beacon and the tower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the great Master of the spells of power.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 207]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There He, who yet in Fable's deathless page<span class='linenum'>40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Reigns, compass'd with the ring of pleasing dread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which the true wizard, whether bard or sage,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Draws round him living, and commands when dead—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The solemn Merlin—from the midnight won<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hosts that bow'd to starry Solomon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not fear that light on Arthur's breast bestow'd,<span class='linenum'>41</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As with a father's smile it met his gaze;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It cheer'd, it soothed, it warm'd him while it glow'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Brought back the memory of young hopeful days,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the child stood by the great prophet's knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And drank high thoughts to strengthen years to be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As with a tender chiding, the calm light<span class='linenum'>42</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Seem'd to reproach him for secreted care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seem'd to ask back the old familiar right<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of lore to counsel, or of love to share;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The prompt heart answers to the voiceless call,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the step quickens o'er the winding wall.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Before that tower precipitously sink<span class='linenum'>43</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The walls, down-shelving to the castle base;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A slender drawbridge, swung from brink to brink,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Alone gives fearful access to the place;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, from that tower, the chains the drawbridge raise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leave the gulf all pathless to the gaze.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But close where Arthur stands, a warder's horn,<span class='linenum'>44</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fix'd to the stone, to those who dare to win<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The enchanter's cell, supplies the note to warn<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The mighty weaver of dread webs within.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loud sounds the horn, the chain descending clangs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And o'er the abyss the dizzy pathway hangs;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mutely the door slides sullen in the stone,<span class='linenum'>45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And closes back, the gloomy threshold cross'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There sate the wizard on a Druid throne,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where sate <span class="smcap">Duw-Iou</span>,<a name="FNanchor_5_67" id="FNanchor_5_67"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_67" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> ere his reign was lost;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His wand uplifted in his solemn hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the weird volume on its brazen stand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O'er the broad breast the heavy brows of thought<span class='linenum'>46</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hang, as if bow'd beneath the load sublime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of spoils from Nature's fading boundaries brought,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or the dusk treasure-house of orient Time;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the unutterable calmness shows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The toil's great victory by the soul's repose.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 208]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ev'n as the Tyrian views his argosies,<span class='linenum'>47</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Moor'd in the port (the gold of Ophir won),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And heeds no more the billow and the breeze,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the clouds wandering o'er the wintry sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So calmly Wisdom eyes (its voyage o'er)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The traversed ocean from the beetling shore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A hundred years press'd o'er that awful head,<span class='linenum'>48</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As o'er an Alp, their diadem of snow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, as an Alp, a hundred years had fled,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And left as firm the giant form below;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So in the hush of some Chaonian grove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sat the grey father of Pelasgic Jove.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Before that power, sublimer than his own,<span class='linenum'>49</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With downcast looks, the King inclined the knee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The enchanter smiled, and, bending from his throne,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Drew to his breast his pupil tenderly;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And press'd his lips on that young forehead fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with large hand smooth'd back the golden hair!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, looking in those frank and azure eyes,<span class='linenum'>50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"What," said the prophet, "doth my Arthur seek<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the grey wisdom which the young despise?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The young, perchance, are right!—Fair infant, speak!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thrice sigh'd the monarch, and at length began:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Can wisdom ward the storms of fate from man?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What spell can thrust Affliction from the gate?<span class='linenum'>51</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">What tree is sacred from the lightning flame?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Son," said the seer, "the laurel!—even Fate,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which blasts Ambition, but illumines Fame.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say on."—The King smiled sternly, and obey'd—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Track we the steps which track'd the warning shade.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"On to the wood, and to its inmost dell<span class='linenum'>52</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Will-less I went," the monarch thus pursued,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Before me still, but darkly visible,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Phantom glided through the solitude;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At length it paused,—a sunless pool was near,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As ebon black, and yet as chrystal clear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Look, King, below,' whisper'd the shadowy One:<span class='linenum'>53</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">What seem'd a hand sign'd beckoning to the wave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I look'd below, and never realms undone<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Show'd war more awful than the mirror gave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There rush'd the steed, there glanced on spear the spear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And spectre-squadrons closed in fell career.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 209]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I saw—I saw my dragon standard there,—<span class='linenum'>54</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Throng'd there the Briton; there the Saxon wheel'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw it vanish from that nether air—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I saw it trampled on that noiseless field;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On pour'd the Saxon hosts—we fled—we fled!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the Pale Horse<a name="FNanchor_6_68" id="FNanchor_6_68"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_68" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> rose ghastly o'er the dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lo, the wan shadow of a giant hand<span class='linenum'>55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pass'd o'er the pool—the demon war was gone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">City on city stretch'd, and land on land;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The wondrous landscape broadening, lengthening on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till that small compass in its clasp contain'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All this wide isle o'er which my fathers reign'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There, by the lord of streams, a palace rose;<span class='linenum'>56</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">On bloody floors there was a throne of state;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the land there dwelt one race—our foes;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And on the single throne the Saxon sate!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Cymri's crown was on his knitted brow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And where stands Carduel, went the labourer's plough.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And east and west, and north and south I turn'd,<span class='linenum'>57</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And call'd my people as a king should call;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale in the hollow mountains I discern'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rude scatter'd stragglers from the common thrall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kingless and armyless, by crag and cave,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ghosts on the margin of their country's grave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And even there, amidst the barren steeps,<span class='linenum'>58</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">I heard the tramp, I saw the Saxon steel;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aloft, red Murder like a deluge sweeps,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor rock can save, nor cavern can conceal;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hill after hill, the waves devouring rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till in one mist of carnage closed my eyes!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then spoke the hell-born shadow by my side—<span class='linenum'>59</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">'O king, who dreamest, amid sweets and bloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life, like one summer holiday, can glide,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Blind to the storm-cloud of the coming doom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Arthur Pendragon</span>, to the Saxon's sway<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy kingdom and thy crown shall pass away.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'And who art thou, that Heaven's august decrees<span class='linenum'>60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Usurp'st thus?' I cried, and lo the space<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was void!—Amidst the horror of the trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And by the pool, which mirror'd back the face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Dark in crystal darkness—there I stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the sole spectre was the Solitude!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 210]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I knew no more—strong as a mighty dream<span class='linenum'>61</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The trouble seized the soul, and seal'd the sense;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I knew no more, till in the blessed beam,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Life sprung to loving Nature for defence;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vale, flower, and fountain laugh'd in jocund spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pride came back,—again I was a king!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But, ev'n the while with airy sport of tongue<span class='linenum'>62</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">(As with light wing the skylark from its nest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lures the invading step) I led the throng<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the dark brood of terror in my breast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still frown'd the vision on my haunted eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And blood seem'd reddening in the azure sky.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O thou, the Almighty Lord of earth and heaven,<span class='linenum'>63</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Without whose will not ev'n a sparrow falls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If to my sight the fearful truth was given,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If thy dread hand hath graven on these walls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Chaldee's doom, and to the stranger's sway<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My kingdom and my crown shall pass away,—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Grant this—a freeman's, if a monarch's, prayer!—<span class='linenum'>64</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><span class="smcap">Life</span>, while my life one man from chains can save;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While earth one refuge, or the cave one lair,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yields to the closing struggle of the brave!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mine the last desperate but avenging hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If reft the sceptre, not resign'd the brand!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Close to my clasp!" the prophet cried, "Impart<span class='linenum'>65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To these iced veins the glow of youth once more;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The healthful throb of one great human heart<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Baffles more fiends than all a magian's lore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brave child——" Young arms embracing check'd the rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And youth and age stood mingled breast to breast.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ho!" cried the mighty master, while he broke<span class='linenum'>66</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the embrace, and round from vault to floor<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mysterious echoes answered as he spoke;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And flames twined snake-like round the wand he bore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And freezing winds tumultuous swept the cell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As from the wings of hosts invisible:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ho! ye spiritual Ministers of all<span class='linenum'>67</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The airy space below the Sapphire Throne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the swift axle of this earthly ball—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yea, to the deep, where evermore alone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hell's king with memory of lost glory dwells.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from that memory weaves his hell of hells;—<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 211]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ho! ye who fill the crevices of air,<span class='linenum'>68</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And speed the whirlwind round the reeling bark—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or dart destroying in the forkèd glare,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or rise—the bloodless People of the Dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the pale shape of Dreams—when to the bed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Murder glide the simulated dead,—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hither ye myriad hosts!—O'er tower and dome,<span class='linenum'>69</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wait the high mission, and attend the word;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether to pierce the mountain with the gnome,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or soar to heights where never wing'd the bird;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So that the secret and the boon ye wrest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Time's cold grasp, or Fate's reluctant breast!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mute stood the King—when lo, the dragon-keep<span class='linenum'>70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shook to its rack'd foundations, as when all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Corycia's caverns and the Delphic steep<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shook to the foot-tread of invading Gaul;<a name="FNanchor_7_69" id="FNanchor_7_69"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_69" class="fnanchor">[7]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, as his path when flaming Ætna frees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shakes some proud city on Sicilian seas;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Reel'd heaving from his feet the dizzy floor;<span class='linenum'>71</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Swam dreamlike on his gaze the fading cell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As falls the seaman, when the waves dash o'er<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The plank that glideth from his grasp—he fell.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To eyes ungifted, deadly were the least<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of those last mysteries, Nature yields her priest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Morn, the joy-bringer, from her sparkling urn<span class='linenum'>72</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Scatters o'er herb and flower the orient dew;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The larks to heaven, and souls to thought return—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Life, in each source, leaps rushing forth anew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fills every grain in Nature's boundless plan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wakes new fates in each desire of man.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In each desire, each thought, each fear, each hope,<span class='linenum'>73</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Each scheme, each wish, each fancy, and each end,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That morn calls forth, say, who can span the scope?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who track the arrow which the soul may send?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One morning woke Olympia's youthful son,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And long'd for fame—and half the world was won.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair shines the sun on stately Carduel;<span class='linenum'>74</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The falcon, hoodwink'd, basks upon the wall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tilt-yard echoes with the clarion's swell,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And lusty youth comes thronging to the call;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And martial sports (the daily wont) begin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The page must practise if the knight would win.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 212]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some spur the palfrey at the distant ring;<span class='linenum'>75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Some, with blunt lance, in mimic tourney charge;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here skirs the pebble from the poisèd sling,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or flies the arrow rounding to the targe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Age and Fame sigh smiling to behold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The young leaves budding to replace the old.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nor yet forgot, amid the special sports<span class='linenum'>76</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of polish'd Chivalry, the primal ten<a name="FNanchor_8_70" id="FNanchor_8_70"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_70" class="fnanchor">[8]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Athletic contests, known in elder courts<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ere knighthood rose from the great Father-men.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond the tilt-yard spread the larger space,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the strong wrestle, and the breathless race;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here some, the huge dull weights up-heaving throw;<span class='linenum'>77</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Some ply the staff, and some the sword and shield;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And some that falchion with its thunder-blow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which <span class="smcap">Heus</span><a name="FNanchor_9_71" id="FNanchor_9_71"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_71" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> the Guardian, taught the Celt, to wield;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heus, who first guided o'er "the Hazy Main"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our Titan<a name="FNanchor_10_72" id="FNanchor_10_72"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_72" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> sires from Defrobanni's plain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Life thus astir, and sport upon the wing,<span class='linenum'>78</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Why yet doth Arthur dream day's prime away?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still in charm'd slumber lies the quiet King;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On his own couch the merry sunbeams play,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gleam o'er the arms hung trophied from the wall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Cymri's antique crown surmounting all.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Slowly he woke; life came back with a sigh<span class='linenum'>79</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">(That herald, or that follower, to the gate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all our knowledge)—and his startled eye<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fell where beside his couch the prophet sate;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with that sight rush'd back the mystic cell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The awful summons, the arrested spell.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Prince," said the prophet, "with this morn awake<span class='linenum'>80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">From pomp, from pleasure, to high toils and brave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From yonder wall the arms of knighthood take,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But leave the crown the knightly arms may save;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er mount and vale, go, pilgrim, forth alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And win the gifts which shall defend a throne.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thus speak the Fates—till in the heavens the sun<span class='linenum'>81</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rounds his revolving course, O King, return<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To man's first, noblest birthright, <small>TOIL</small>:—so won<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In Grecian fable, to the ambrosial urn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of joyous Hebè, and the Olympian grove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The labouring son Alemena bore to Jove.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 213]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"By the stout heart to peril's sight inured,<span class='linenum'>82</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">By the wise brain which toil hath stored and skill'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Valour is school'd and glory is secured,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the large ends of fame and fate fulfill'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But hear the gifts thy year of proof must gain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To fail in one leaves those achieved in vain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The falchion, welded from a diamond gem,<span class='linenum'>83</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hid in the Lake of Argent Music-Falls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where springs a forest from a single stem,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And moon-lit waters close o'er Cuthite halls—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">First taste the herb that grows upon a grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then see the bark that wafts thee down the wave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The silver Shield in which the infant sleep<span class='linenum'>84</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of Thor was cradled,—now the jealous care<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the fierce dwarf whose home is on the deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where drifting ice-rocks clash in lifeless air;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And War's pale Sisters smile to see the shock<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stir the still curtains round the couch of Lok.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And last of all—before the Iron Gate<span class='linenum'>85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which opes its entrance at the faintest breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But hath no egress; where remorseless Fate<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sits, weaving life, within the porch of Death;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth's childlike guide shall wait thee in the gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With golden locks, and looks that light the tomb.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Achieve the sword, the shield, the virgin guide,<span class='linenum'>86</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And in those gifts appease the Powers of wrath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be danger braved, and be delight defied,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From grief take wisdom, and from wisdom faith;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And though dark wings hang o'er these threaten'd halls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though war's red surge break thundering round thy walls,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Though, in the rear of time, these prophet eyes<span class='linenum'>87</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">See to thy sons, thy Cymrians, many a woe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet from thy loins a race of kings shall rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose throne shall shadow all the seas that flow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose empire, broader than the Cæsar won,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall clasp a realm where never sets the sun:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And thou, thyself, shalt live from age to age,<span class='linenum'>88</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">A thought of beauty and a type of fame;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not the faint memory of some mouldering page,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But by the hearths of men a household name:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Theme to all song, and marvel to all youth—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beloved as Fable, yet believed as Truth.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 214]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But if thou fail—thrice woe!" Up sprang the King:<span class='linenum'>89</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Let the woe fall on feeble kings who fail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their country's need! When eagles spread the wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They face the sun, not tremble at the gale:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, if ordain'd heaven's mission to perform,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They bear the thunder where they cleave the storm."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ere yet the shadows from the castle's base<span class='linenum'>90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Show'd lapsing noon—in Carduel's council-hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the high princes of the Dragon race,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The mighty Prophet, whom the awe of all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As Fate's unerring oracle adored,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Told the self exile of the parted lord;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For his throne's safety and his country's weal<span class='linenum'>91</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">On high emprise to distant regions bound;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cause must wisdom for success conceal;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For each sage counsel is, as fate, profound:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And none may trace the travail in the seed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the blade burst to glory in the deed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Few were the orders, as wise orders are,<span class='linenum'>92</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">For the upholding of the chiefless throne;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To strengthen peace and yet prepare for war;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lest the fierce Saxon (Arthur's absence known)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loose death's pale charger from the broken rein,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To its grim pastures on the bloody plain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Leave we the startled Princes in the hall;<span class='linenum'>93</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Leave we the wondering babblers in the mart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The grief, the guess, the hope, the doubt, and all<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That stir a nation to its inmost heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When some portentous Chance, unseen till then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strides in the circles of unthinking men.<a name="FNanchor_11_73" id="FNanchor_11_73"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_73" class="fnanchor">[11]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where the screen'd portal from the embattled town<span class='linenum'>94</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Opes midway on the hill, the lonely King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forth issuing, guides his barded charger down<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The steep descent. Amidst the pomp of spring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lapses the lucid river; jocund May<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waits in the vale to strew with flowers his way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of brightest steel (but not emboss'd with gold<span class='linenum'>95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As when in tourneys rode the royal knight),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His arms flash sunshine back; the azure fold<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the broad mantle, like a wave of light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Floats tremulous, and leaves the sword-arm free.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair was that darling of all Poetry!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 215]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Through the raised vizor beam'd the fearless eye,<span class='linenum'>96</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The limpid mirror of a stately soul;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright with young hope, but grave with purpose high;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sweet to encourage, steadfast to control;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An eye from which subjected hosts might draw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As from a double fountain, love and awe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The careless curl, that from the helm escaped,<span class='linenum'>97</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gleam'd in the sunlight, lending gold to gold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor fairer face, in Parian marble shaped,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Beam'd gracious down from Delian shrines of old;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Albeit in bolder majesty look'd forth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hardy soul of the chivalric North<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O'er the light limb, and o'er the shoulders broad,<span class='linenum'>98</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The steel flow'd pliant as a silken vest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strength was so supple that like grace it show'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And force was only by its ease confest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'n as the storms in gentlest waters sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the ripple flows the mighty deep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now wound his path beside the woods that hang<span class='linenum'>99</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'er the green pleasaunce of the sunlit plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When a young footstep from the forest sprang,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And a light hand was on the charger's rein;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Surprised, the adventurer halts,—but pleased surveys<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The friendly face that smiles upon his gaze.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of all the flowers of knighthood in his train<span class='linenum'>100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Three he loved best; young Caradoc the mild,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose soul was fill'd with song; and frank Gawaine,<a name="FNanchor_12_74" id="FNanchor_12_74"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_74" class="fnanchor">[12]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whom mirth for ever, like a fairy child,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lock'd from the cares of life; but neither grew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Close to his heart, like Lancelot the true.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gawaine when gay, and Caradoc when grave,<span class='linenum'>101</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pleased: but young Lancelot, or grave or gay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As yet life's sea had roll'd not with a wave<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To rend the plank from those twin hearts away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At childhood's gate instinctive love began,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And warm'd with every sun that led to man.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The same sports lured them, the same labours strung,<span class='linenum'>102</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The same song thrill'd them with the same delight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where in the aisle their maiden arms had hung,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The same moon lit them through the watchful night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The same day bound their knighthood to maintain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life from reproach, and honour from a stain.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 216]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And if the friendship scarce in each the same,<span class='linenum'>103</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The soul has rivals where the heart has not;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So Lancelot loved his Arthur more than fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Arthur more than life his Lancelot.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lost here Art's mean distinctions! knightly troth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Frank youth, high thoughts, crown'd Nature's kings in both.<a name="FNanchor_13_75" id="FNanchor_13_75"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_75" class="fnanchor">[13]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Whither wends Arthur?" "Whence comes Lancelot?"<span class='linenum'>104</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"From yonder forest, sought at dawn of day."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Why from the forest?" "Prince and brother, what,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When the bird startled flutters from the spray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Makes the leaves quiver? What disturbs the rill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If but a zephyr floateth from the hill?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And ask'st thou why thy brother's heart is stirr'd<span class='linenum'>105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">By every tremor that can vex thine own?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What in that forest hadst thou seen or heard?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What was that shadow o'er thy sunshine thrown?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy lips were silent,—be the secret thine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But half the trouble it conceal'd was mine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Did danger meet thee in that dismal lair?<span class='linenum'>106</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Twas mine to face it as thy heart had done.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas mine——" "O brother," cried the King, "beware,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The fiend has snares it shames not man to shun;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, woe to eyes on whose recoiling sight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Opes the dark world beyond the veil of light!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Listen to Fate; till once more eves in May<span class='linenum'>107</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Welcome <span class="smcap">Bal-huan</span> back to yon sweet sky,<a name="FNanchor_14_77" id="FNanchor_14_77"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_77" class="fnanchor">[14]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hunter's lively horn, the hound's deep bay,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">May fill with joy the <span class="smcap">Vale of Melody</span>,<a name="FNanchor_15_78" id="FNanchor_15_78"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_78" class="fnanchor">[15]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">On spell-bound ears the Harper's tones may fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love deck the bower, and Pleasure trim the hall—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But thou, oh thou, my Lancelot shalt mourn<span class='linenum'>108</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The void, a life withdrawn bequeaths the soul;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No mirth shall greet thee in the buxom horn—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor flash in liquid sunshine from the bowl;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sorrow shall sit where I have dwelt,—and be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A second Arthur in its truth to thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Alone I go;—submit; since thus the Fates<span class='linenum'>109</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the great Prophet of our race ordain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So shall we drive invasion from our gates,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Guard life from shame, and Cymri from the chain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more than this my soul to thine may tell—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forgive,—Saints shield thee!—now thy hand—farewell!"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 217]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Farewell! Can danger be more strong than death—<span class='linenum'>110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Loose the soul's link, the grave-surviving vow?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wilt thou find fragrance ev'n in glory's wreath,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If valour weave it for thy single brow?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No!—not farewell! What claim more strong than brother<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Canst thou allow?"—"My Country is my Mother!"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At the rebuke of those mild, solemn words,<span class='linenum'>111</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Friendship submissive bow'd—its voice was still'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As when some mighty bard with sudden chords<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Strikes down the passion he before had thrill'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Making grief awe;—so rush'd that sentence o'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soul it master'd;—Lancelot urged no more;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But loosing from the hand it clasp'd, his own,<span class='linenum'>112</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">He waved farewell, and turn'd his face away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His sorrow only by his silence shown:—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thus, when from earth glides summer's golden day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Music forsakes the boughs, and winds the stream;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And life, in deep'ning quiet, mourns the beam.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 218]</span></p> +<h2>BOOK II.</h2> + +<h4>ARGUMENT.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Introductory reflections—Arthur's absence—Caradoc's suspended epic—The +deliberations of the three friends—Merlin seeks them—The trial of the +enchanted forest—Merlin's soliloquy by the fountain—The return of the +knights from the forest—Merlin's selection of the one permitted to join the +King—The narrative returns to Arthur—The strange guide allotted to him—He +crosses the sea, and arrives at the court of the Vandal—Ludovick, the +Vandal King, described—His wily questions—Arthur's answers—The Vandal +seeks his friend Astutio—Arthur leaves the court—Conference between +Astutio and Ludovick—Astutio's profound statesmanship and subtle schemes—The +Ambassador from Mercia—His address to Ludovick—The Saxons +pursue Arthur—Meanwhile the Cymrian King arrives at the sea-shore—Description +of the caves that intercept his progress—He turns inland—The +Idol-shrine—The wolf and the priest.</p></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oft in the sands, in idle summer days,<span class='linenum'>1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Will childlike fondness write some cherish'd name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lull'd on the margin, while the wavelet plays,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And tides still dreaming on:—Alas! the same<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On human hearts Affection prints a trace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sands record it, and the tides efface.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If absence parts, Hope, ready to console,<span class='linenum'>2</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whispers, "Be soothed, the absent shall return;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If Death divides, a moment from the goal,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Love stays the step, and decks, but leaves, the urn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vowing remembrance;—let the year be o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And see, remembrance smiles like joy, once more!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In street and mart still plies the busy craft.<span class='linenum'>3</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still Beauty trims for stealthy steps the bower;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By lips as gay the Hirlas horn<a name="FNanchor_1_79" id="FNanchor_1_79"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_79" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> is quaft;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To the dark bourne still flies as fast the hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As when in Arthur men adored the sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Life's large rainbow took its hues from One!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet ne'er by Prince more loved a crown was worn,<span class='linenum'>4</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And hadst thou ventured but to hint the doubt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That loyal subjects ever ceased to mourn,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And that without him, earth was joy without,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou soon hadst join'd in certain warm dominions<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hornèd friends of pestilent opinions.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 219]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thrice bless'd, O King, that on thy royal head<span class='linenum'>5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fall the night-dews; that the broad-spreading beech<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Curtains thy sleep; that in the paths of dread,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lonely thou wanderest,—so thy steps may reach<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Renown</span>,—that bridge which spans the midnight sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And joins two worlds,—Time and Eternity!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All is forgot save Poetry; or whether<span class='linenum'>6</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Haunting Time's river from the vocal reeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or link'd not less in human souls together<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With ends, which make the poetry of deeds;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For either poetry alike can shine—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Hector's valour as from Homer's line.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet let me wrong ye not, ye faithful three,<span class='linenum'>7</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gawaine, and Caradoc, and Lancelot!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gawaine's light lip had lost its laughing glee<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And gentle Caradoc had half forgot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That famous epic which his muse had hit on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Trojan Brut—from whom the name of Briton.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Therein Sir Brut, expell'd from flaming Troy,<a name="FNanchor_2_80" id="FNanchor_2_80"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_80" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><span class='linenum'>8</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Comes to this isle, and seeks to build a city,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which Devils, then the Freeholders, destroy;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till the sweet Virgin on Sir Brut takes pity,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bids that Saint who now speaks Welsh on high,<a name="FNanchor_3_81" id="FNanchor_3_81"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_81" class="fnanchor">[3]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Baptize the astonish'd heathen in the Wye!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This done, the fiends, at once disfranchised, fled;<span class='linenum'>9</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And to the Saint the Trojan built a chapel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where masses daily were for Priam said:—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">While thrice a week, the priests, that golden apple<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By which three fiends, as goddesses disguised,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bewitch'd Sir Paris, anathematized.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But now this epic, in its course suspended,<span class='linenum'>10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Slept on the shelf—(a not uncommon fate);<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, who shall tell, if, ere resumed and ended,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That kind of poem be not out of date?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For of all ladies there are none who chuse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such freaks and turns of fashion, as the Muse.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And then, sad Lancelot—but there I hold;<span class='linenum'>11</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Some griefs there are which grief alone can guess,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so we leave whate'er he felt untold;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Light steps profane the heart's deep loneliness.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I, too, had once a friend, in happier years!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He fled,—he owed,—forgot;—Forgive these tears!—<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 220]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Much, their sole comfort, much conversed the three<span class='linenum'>12</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Upon their absent Arthur; what the cause<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of his self-exile, and its ends, could be;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Much did they ponder, hesitate, and pause<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In high debate if loyal love might still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pursue his wanderings, though against his will.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But first the awe which kings command, restrain'd;<span class='linenum'>13</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And next the ignorance of the path and goal;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, thus for weeks they communed and remain'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till o'er the woods a mellower verdure stole;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bell-flower clothed the river-banks; the moon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stood in the breathless firmament of June;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When—as one twilight near the forest-mount<span class='linenum'>14</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">They sate, and heard the vesper-bell afar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swing from the dim Cathedral, and the fount<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hymn low its own sweet music to the star<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lone in the west—they saw a shadow pass<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the pale beam shot silvering o'er the grass.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They turn'd, beheld their Cymri's mighty seer,<span class='linenum'>15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Majestic Merlin, and with reverence rose;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Knights," said the soothsayer, smiling, "be of cheer<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If yet alone (the stars themselves his foes)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wanders the King,—now, of his faithful three<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One, Fate permits; the choice with Fate must be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Enter the forest—each his several way;<span class='linenum'>16</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Return as dies in air the vesper chime;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fiend the forest populace obey<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hath not o'er mortals empire in the time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When holy sounds the wings of Heaven invite,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And prayer hangs charm-like on the wheels of Night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What seen, what heard, mark mindful, and relate!<span class='linenum'>17</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Here will I tarry till your steps return."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ne'er leapt the captive from the prison grate<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With livelier gladness to the smiles of morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than sprang those rivals to the forest-gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And its dark arms closed round them like a tomb.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Before the fount, with thought-o'ershadow'd brow,<span class='linenum'>18</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The prophet stood, and bent a wistful eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along its starlit shimmer;—"Ev'n as now,"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He murmur'd, "didst thou lift thyself on high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O symbol of my soul, and make thy course<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One upward struggle to thy mountain source—<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 221]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"When first, a musing boy, I stood beside<span class='linenum'>19</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy sparkling showers, and ask'd my restless heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What secrets Nature to the herd denied,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But might to earnest hierophant impart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, in the boundless space around and o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thought whisper'd—'Rise, O seeker, and explore;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Can every leaf a teeming world contain,<span class='linenum'>20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the least drop can race succeed to race,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet one death-slumber in its dreamless reign<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Clasp all the illumed magnificence of space—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life crowd the drop—from air's vast seas effaced—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The leaf a world—the firmament a waste?'—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And while Thought whisper'd, from thy shining spring<span class='linenum'>21</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The glorious answer murmur'd—'Soul of Man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let the fount teach thee, and its struggle bring<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Truth to thy yearnings!—whither I began,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thither I tend; my law is to aspire:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spirit <i>thy</i> source, be spirit <i>thy</i> desire.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And I have made the life of spirit mine;<span class='linenum'>22</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And, on the margin of my mortal grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My soul, already in an air divine<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ev'n in its terrors,—starlit, seeks to cleave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up to the height on which its source must be—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And falls again, in earthward showers, like thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"System on system climbing, sphere on sphere,<span class='linenum'>23</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Upward for ever, ever, evermore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can all eternity not bring more near?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is it in vain that I have sought to soar?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vain as the Has been, is the long To be?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Type of my soul, O fountain, answer me!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And while he spoke, behold the night's soft flowers,<span class='linenum'>24</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Scentless to day, awoke, and bloom'd, and breathed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fed by the falling of the fountain's showers,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Round its green marge the grateful garland wreathed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fount might fail its source on high to gain—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ask the blossom if it soared in vain!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The prophet mark'd, and, on his mighty brow,<span class='linenum'>25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thought grew resign'd, serene, though mournful still.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now ceased the vesper, and the branches now<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stirr'd on the margin of the forest hill—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Gawaine came into the starlit space—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slow was his step, and sullen was his face.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 222]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What didst thou see?"—"The green-wood and the sky."<span class='linenum'>26</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"What hear?"—"The light leaf dropping on the sward."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now, with front elate and hopeful eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stood, in the starlight, Caradoc the bard;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The prophet smiled on that fair face (akin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poet and prophet), "Child of Song, begin."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I saw a glow-worm light his fairy lamp,<span class='linenum'>27</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Close where a little torrent forced its way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through broad-leaved water-sedge, and alder damp;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Above the glow-worm, from some lower spray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the near mountain-ash, the silver song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of night's sweet chorister came clear and strong;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"No thrilling note of melancholy wail;<span class='linenum'>28</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ne'er pour'd the thrush more musical delight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through noon-day laurels, than that nightingale<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the lone forest to the ear of Night—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'n as the light web by Arachne spun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From bough to bough suspended in the sun,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ensnares the heedless insect,—so, methought<span class='linenum'>29</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Midway in air my soul arrested hung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the melodious meshes; never aught<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To mortal lute was so divinely sung!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Surely, O prophet, these the sound and sign,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which make the lot, the search determines mine,"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O self-deceit of man!" the soothsayer sigh'd,<span class='linenum'>30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"The worm but lent its funeral torch the ray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The night-bird's joy but hail'd the fatal guide,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the bright glimmer, to its thoughtless prey.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou, bold-eyed one—in the forest, what<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Met <i>thy</i> firm footstep?"—Out spoke Lancelot—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I pierced the forest till a pool I reach'd,<span class='linenum'>31</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ne'er mark'd before—a dark yet lucid wave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High from a blasted oak the night-owl screech'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">An otter crept from out its water-cave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The owl grew silent when it heard my tread—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The otter mark'd my shadow, and it fled.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"This all I saw, and all I heard."—"Rejoice"<span class='linenum'>32</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The enchanter cried, "for thee the omens smile;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On thee propitious Fate hath fix'd the choice;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And thou the comrade in the glorious toil.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In death the poet only music heard;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But death gave way when life's firm soldier stirr'd.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 223]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Forth ride, a dauntless champion, with the morn;<span class='linenum'>33</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">But let the night the champion nerve with prayer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Higher and higher from the heron borne,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wheels thy brave falcon to the heavenliest air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poises his wings, far towering o'er the foe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hangs aloft, before he swoops below;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Man let the falcon teach thee!—Now, from land<span class='linenum'>34</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To land thy guide, receive this chrystal ring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See, in the chrystal moves a fairy hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still, where it moveth, moves the wandering King—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or east, or north, or south, or west, where'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Points the sure hand, thy onward path be there!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thine hour comes soon, young Gawaine! to the port<span class='linenum'>35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The light heart boundeth o'er the stormiest wave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou, fair favourite<a name="FNanchor_4_82" id="FNanchor_4_82"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_82" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> in the Fairy court,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To whom its King a realm in fancy gave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fear not from glory exiled long to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What toil to others, Nature brings to thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus with kind word, well chosen, unto each<span class='linenum'>36</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Spoke the benign enchanter; and the twain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Less favour'd, heart and comfort from his speech<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hopeful conceived; the prophet up the plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gathering weird simples, pass'd—to Carduel they;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And song escapes to Arthur's lonely way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On towards the ocean-shore (for thus the seer<span class='linenum'>37</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Enjoin'd) the royal knight, deep musing, rode;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Winding green margins, till more near and near<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unto the main the exulting river flow'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here too a guide, when reach'd the mightier wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heedful promise of the prophet gave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where the sea flashes on the argent sands,<span class='linenum'>38</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Soars from a lonely rock a snow-white dove:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No bird more beauteous to immortal lands<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bore Psyche rescued side by side with Love.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'n as some thought which, pure of earthly taint,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Springs from the chaste heart of a virgin saint.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It hovers in the heaven:—and from its wings<span class='linenum'>39</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shakes the clear dewdrops of unsullying seas;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then circling gently in slow-measured rings,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nearer and nearer to its goal it flees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And drooping, fearless, on that noble breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Murmuring low joy, it coos itself to rest.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 224]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The grateful King, with many a soothing word,<span class='linenum'>40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And bland caress, the guileless trust repaid;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, gently gliding from his hand, the bird<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Went fluttering where the hollow headlands made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A boat's small harbour; Arthur from the chain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Released the raft,—it shot along the main.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now in that boat, beneath the eyes of heaven,<span class='linenum'>41</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Floated the three, the steed, the bird, the man;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To favouring winds the little sail was given;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The shore fail'd gradual, dwindling to a span;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The steed bent wistful o'er the watery realm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the white dove perch'd tranquil at the helm.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Haply by fisherman, its owner, left,<span class='linenum'>42</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Within the boat were rude provisions stored;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The yellow harvest from the wild bee reft,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bread, roots, dried fish, the luxuries of a board<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Health spreads for toil; while skins and flasks of reed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yield, these the water, those the strengthening mead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Five days, five nights, still onward, onward o'er<span class='linenum'>43</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Light-swelling waves, bounded the bark its way:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At last the sun set reddening on a shore;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Walls on the cliff, and war-ships in the bay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While from bright towers, o'erlooking sea and plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Leopard-banners told the Vandal's reign.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Amid those shifting royalties, the North<span class='linenum'>44</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pour'd from its teeming breast, in tumult driven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now to, now fro, as thunder-clouds sent forth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To darken, burst,—and bursting, clear the heaven;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere yet the Nomad nations found repose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And order dawn'd as Charlemain arose;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Amidst that ferment of fierce races, won<span class='linenum'>45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To yonder shores a wandering Vandal horde,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose chief exchanged his war-tent for a throne,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And shaped a sceptre from a conqueror's sword;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His sons, expell'd by rude intestine broil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sought that worst wilderness—the Stranger's soil.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A distant kinsman, Ludovick his name,<span class='linenum'>46</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With them was exiled, and with them return'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A prince of popular and patriot fame;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To roast his egg your house he would have burn'd!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A patriot soul no ties of kindred knows—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His kinsman's palace was the house he chose.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 225]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A patriot gamester playing for a Crown,<span class='linenum'>47</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">He watch'd the hazard with indifferent air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rebuked well-wishers with a gentle frown,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then dropp'd the whisper—"What I win I share."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who plays for power should make the odds so fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That one man's luck should seem the gain of all.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The moment came, disorder split the realm;<span class='linenum'>48</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Too stern the ruler, or too feebly stern;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The supple kinsman slided to the helm,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And trimm'd the rudder with a dexterous turn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A turn so dexterous, that it served to fling<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Both</i> overboard—the people and the king!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The captain's post repaid the pilot's task,<span class='linenum'>49</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">He seized the ship as he had cleared the prow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drop we the metaphor as he the mask:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And, while his gaping Vandals wonder'd how,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold the patriot to the despot grown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Filch'd from the fight, and juggled to the throne!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And bland in words was wily Ludovick!<span class='linenum'>50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Much did he promise, nought did he fulfil;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The trickster Fortune loves the hands that trick,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And smiled approving on her conjuror's skill!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The promised freedom vanish'd in a tax,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bays, turn'd briars, scourged bewilder'd backs.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Soon is the landing of the stranger knight<span class='linenum'>51</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Known at the court; and courteously the king<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gives to his guest the hospitable rite;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Heralds the tromp, and harpers wake the string;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rich robes of miniver the mail replace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the bright banquet sparkles on the dais.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where on the wall the cloth, goldwoven, glow'd,<span class='linenum'>52</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Beside his chair of state, the Vandal lord<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made room for that fair stranger, as he strode<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With a king's footstep, to the kingly board.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In robes so nobly worn, the wise old man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saw some great soul, which cunning whisper'd "scan."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A portly presence had the realm-deceiver;<span class='linenum'>53</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ah eye urbane, a people-catching smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A brow of webs the everlasting weaver,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where jovial frankness mask'd the serious guile;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each word, well aim'd, he feather'd with a jest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, unsuspected, shot into the breast.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 226]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gaily he welcomed Arthur to the feast,<span class='linenum'>54</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And press'd the goblet, which unties the tongue;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the bowl circled so his speech increased,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And chose such flatteries as seduce the young;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seeming in each kind question more to blend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fondling father with the anxious friend.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If frank the prince, esteem him not the less;<span class='linenum'>55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The soul of knighthood loves the truth of man;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The boons he sought 'twas needful to suppress,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not mask the seeker; so the prince began—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Arthur my name, from <span class="smcap">Ynys Vel</span><a name="FNanchor_5_83" id="FNanchor_5_83"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_83" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> I come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the steep homes of Cymri's Christendom.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Five days ago, in Carduel's halls a king,<span class='linenum'>56</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">A lonely pilgrim now o'er lands and seas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I seek such fame as gallant deeds can bring,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And hope from danger gifts denied to ease;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lore from experience, thought from toil to gain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And learn as man how best as king to reign."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Vandal smiled, and praised the high design;<span class='linenum'>57</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then, careless, questioned of the Cymrian land:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Was earth propitious to the corn and vine?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Was the sun genial?—were the breezes bland?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did gold and gem the mountain mines conceal?"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Our soil bears manhood, and our mountains steel,"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Monarch answer'd; "and where these are found,<span class='linenum'>58</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">All plains yield harvests, and all mines the gold."—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Your hills are doubtless," quoth the Vandal, "crown'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With castled tower, and fosse-defended hold?"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"One hold the land—its mightiest fosse the sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And its strong walls the bosoms of the free."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Vandal mused, and thought the answers shrewd,<span class='linenum'>59</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">But little suited to the listeners by;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So turn'd the subject, nor again renew'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sharp questions blunted by such bold reply.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now ceased the banquet; to a chamber, spread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With fragrant heath, his guest the Vandal led.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With his own hand unclasp'd the mantle's fold,<span class='linenum'>60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And took his leave in blessings without number;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bade every angel shelter from the cold,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And every saint watch sleepless o'er the slumber;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then his own chamber sought, and rack'd his breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To find some use to which to put the guest.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 227]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Three days did Arthur sojourn in that court;<span class='linenum'>61</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And much he marvell'd how that warlike race<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bow'd to a chief, whom never knightly sport,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The gallant tourney, nor the glowing chase<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Allured; and least those glory-lighted dyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which make death lovely in a warrior's eyes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet, 'midst his marvel, much the Cymrian sees<span class='linenum'>62</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">For king to imitate and sage to praise;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Splendour and thrift in nicely-poised degrees,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Caution that guards, and promptness that dismays;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Fraud will oftimes make the Fate it fears;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some day, found stifled by the mask it wears.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On his part, Arthur in such estimation<span class='linenum'>63</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Did the host hold, that he proposed to take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A father's charge of his forsaken nation.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"He loved not meddling, but for Arthur's sake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would leave his own, his guest's affairs to mind."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An offer Arthur thankfully declined.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Much grieved the Vandal "that he just had given<span class='linenum'>64</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">His last unwedded daughter to a Frank,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But still he had a wifeless son, thank Heaven!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not yet provision'd as beseem'd his rank,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And one of Arthur's sisters——" Uther's son<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smiled, and replied—"Sir king, I have but one,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Borne by my mother to her former lord;<span class='linenum'>65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not young."—"Alack! youth cannot last like riches."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Not fair."—"Then youth is less to be deplored."<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"A witch."<a name="FNanchor_6_84" id="FNanchor_6_84"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_84" class="fnanchor">[6]</a>—"<i>All</i> women till they're wed <i>are</i> witches!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wived to my son, the witch will soon be steady!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Wived to your son?—she is a wife already!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O baseless dreams of man! The king stood mute!<span class='linenum'>66</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That son, of all his house the favourite flower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How had he sought to force it into fruit,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And graft the slip upon a lusty dower!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And this sole sister of a king so rich,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A wife already!—Saints consume the witch!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With brow deject, the mournful Vandal took<span class='linenum'>67</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Occasion prompt to leave his royal guest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sought a friend who served him, as a book<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Read in our illness, in our health dismiss'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For seldom did the Vandal condescend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To that poor drudge which monarchs call a friend!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 228]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And yet Astutio was a man of worth<span class='linenum'>68</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Before the brain had reason'd out the heart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now he learned to look upon the earth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As peddling hucksters look upon the mart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Took souls for wares, and conscience for a till;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And damn'd his fame to serve his master's will.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Much lore he had in men, and states, and things,<span class='linenum'>69</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And kept his memory mapp'd in prim precision,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With histories, laws, and pedigrees of kings,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And moral saws, which ran through each division,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All neatly colour'd with appropriate hue—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The histories black, the morals heavenly blue!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But state-craft, mainly, was his pride and boast;<span class='linenum'>70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"The golden medium" was his guiding star,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which means "move on until you're uppermost,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And then things can't be better than they are!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brief, in two rules he summ'd the ends of man—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Keep all you have, and try for all you can!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While these conferr'd, fair Arthur wistfully<span class='linenum'>71</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Look'd from the lattice of his stately room;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rainbow spann'd the ocean of the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">An arch of glory in the midst of gloom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So light from dark by lofty souls is won,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on the rain-cloud they reflect the sun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As such, perchance, his thought, the snow-white dove,<span class='linenum'>72</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which at the threshold of the Vandal's towers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had left his side, came circling from above,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Athwart the rainbow and the sparkling showers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flew through the open lattice, paused, and sprung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where on the wall the abandon'd armour hung;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hover'd above the lance, the mail, the crest,<span class='linenum'>73</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then back to Arthur, and with querulous cries,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peck'd at the clasp that bound the flowing vest,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Chiding his dalliance from the arm'd emprize,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So Arthur deem'd; and soon from head to heel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blazed War's dread statue, sculptured from the steel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then through the doorway flew the wingèd guide,<span class='linenum'>74</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Skimm'd the long gallery, shunn'd the thronging hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, through deserted posterns, led the stride<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of its arm'd follower to the charger's stall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loud neigh'd the destrier<a name="FNanchor_7_85" id="FNanchor_7_85"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_85" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> at the welcome clang<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And drowsy horseboys into service sprang.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 229]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though threaten'd danger well the prince divined,<span class='linenum'>75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">He deem'd it churlish in ungracious haste<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus to depart, nor thank a host so kind;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But when the step the courteous thought retraced,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With breast and wing the dove opposed his way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And warn'd with scaring scream the rash delay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The King reluctant yields. Now in the court<span class='linenum'>76</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Paws with impatient hoof the barbèd steed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now yawn the sombre portals of the fort;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Creaks the hoarse drawbridge;—now the walls are freed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through dun woods hanging o'er the ocean tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glimmers the steel, and gleams the angel-guide.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An opening glade upon the headland's prow<span class='linenum'>77</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sudden admits the ocean and the day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo! the waves cleft before the gilded prow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where the tall war-ship, towering, sweeps to bay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why starts the King?—High over mast and sail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Saxon Horse rides ghastly in the gale!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Grateful to heaven, and heaven's plumed messenger,<span class='linenum'>78</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">He raised his reverent eyes, then shook the rein:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bounded the barb, disdainful of the spur,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Clear'd the steep cliff, and scour'd along the plain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still, while he sped, the swifter wings that lead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seem to rebuke for sloth the swiftening steed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nor cause unmeet for grateful thought, I ween,<span class='linenum'>79</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had the good King; nor vainly warn'd the bird;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor idly fled the steed; as shall be seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If, where the Vandal and his friend conferr'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Awhile our path retracing, we relate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What craft deems guiltless when the craft of state.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sire," quoth Astutio, "well I comprehend<span class='linenum'>80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Your cause for grief; the seedsman breaks the ground<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the new plant; new thrones that would extend<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Their roots, must loosen all the earth around;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For trees and thrones no rule than this more true,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What most disturbs the old best serves the new.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thus all ways wise to push your princely son<span class='linenum'>81</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Under the soil of Cymri's ancient stem;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if the ground the thriving plant had won,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What prudent man will plants that thrive condemn?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir, in your move a master hand is seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your well play'd bishop caught both tower and queen."<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 230]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And now checkmate!" the wretched sire exclaims,<span class='linenum'>82</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With watering eyes, and mouth that water'd too.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nay," quoth the sage; "a match means many games,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Replace the pieces, and begin anew.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You want this Cymrian's crown—the want is just."—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But how to get it?"—"Sir, with ease, I trust.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The witch is married—better that than burn<span class='linenum'>83</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">(A well-known text—to witches not applied);<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But let that pass:—great sir, to Anglia turn,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And mate your Vandal with a Saxon bride.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her dower," cried Ludovick, "the dower's the thing."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The lands and sceptre of the Cymrian King."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then to that anxious sire the learned man<span class='linenum'>84</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bared the large purpose latent in his speech;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er Britain's gloomy history glibly ran;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Anglia's new kingdoms, he described them each;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But most himself to Mercia he addresses,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Mercia's king, great man, hath two princesses!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Long on this glowing theme enlarged the sage,<span class='linenum'>85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And turn'd, return'd, and turn'd it o'er again;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus when a mercer would your greed engage<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In some fair silk, or cloth of comely grain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He spreads it out—upholds it to the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then sighs "So cheap, too!"—and your soul gives way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He show'd the Saxon, hungering to devour<span class='linenum'>86</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The last unconquer'd realm the Cymrian boasts;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He dwelt at length on Mercia's gathering power,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Swell'd, year by year, from Elbe's unfailing hosts.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then proved how Mercia scarcely could retain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath the sceptre what the sword might gain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For Mercia's vales from Cymri's hills are far,<span class='linenum'>87</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Mercian warriors hard to keep afield;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And men fresh conquer'd stormy subjects are;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What can't be held 'tis no great loss to yield;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still the Saxon might secure his end,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If where the foe had reign'd he left the friend.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Nay, what so politic in Mercia's king<span class='linenum'>88</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As on that throne a son-in-law to place?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While thus they saw their birds upon the wing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ere hatched the egg,—as is the common case<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With large capacious minds, the natural heirs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of that vast property—the things not theirs!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 231]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In comes a herald—comes with startling news:<span class='linenum'>89</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"A Saxon chief has anchor'd in the bay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Mercia's king ambassador, and sues<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The royal audience ere the close of day."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wise old men upon each other stare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"While monarchs counsel, thus the saints prepare,"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Astutio murmur'd, with a pious smile.<span class='linenum'>90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Admit the noble Saxon," quoth the King.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The two laugh out, and rub their palms, the while<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The herald speeds the ambassador to bring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And soon a chief, fair-hair'd, erect, and tall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With train and trumpet, strides along the hall.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Upon his wrist a falcon, bell'd, he bore;<span class='linenum'>91</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Leash'd at his heels six bloodhounds grimly stalk'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A broad round shield was slung his breast before;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The floors reclang'd with armour as he walk'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He gained the dais; his standard-bearer spread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Broadly the banner o'er his helmèd head,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And thrice the tromp his blazon'd herald woke,<span class='linenum'>92</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And hail'd Earl Harold from the Mercian king.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full on the Vandal gazed the earl, and spoke:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Greeting from Crida, Woden's heir, I bring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And these plain words:—'The Saxon's steel is bare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Red harvests wait it—will the Vandal share?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Hengist first chased the Briton from the vale;<span class='linenum'>93</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Crida would hound the Briton from the hill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stern hands have loosed the Pale Horse on the gale;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Horse shall halt not till the winds are still.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be ours your foemen,—be your foemen shown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we in turn will smite them as our own.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'We need allies—in you allies we call;<span class='linenum'>94</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Your shores oppose the Cymrian's mountain sway;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your armèd men stand idle in your hall;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Your vessels rot within your crowded bay:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Send three full squadrons to the Mercian bands—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Send seven tall war-ships to the Cymrian lands.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'If this you grant, as from the old renown<span class='linenum'>95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of Vandal valour, Saxon men believe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our arms will solve all question to your crown;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If not, the heirs you banish we receive;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But one rude maxim Saxon bluntness knows—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We serve our friends, who are not friends are foes!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 232]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Thus speaks King Crida.'" Not the manner much<span class='linenum'>96</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of that brief speech wise Ludovick admired;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But still the matter did so nearly touch<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The great state-objects recently desired,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the sage brows dismiss'd in haste the frown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lips sore-smiling gulp'd resentment down.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair words he gave, and friendly hints of aid,<span class='linenum'>97</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And pray'd the envoy in his halls to rest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And more, in truth, to please the earl had said,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But that the sojourn of the earlier guest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(For not the parting of the Cymrian known)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forbade his heart too plainly to be shown.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But ere a long and oily speech had closed,<span class='linenum'>98</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Astutio, who the hall, when it begun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had left, to seek the prince (whom he proposed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If yet the tidings to his ear had won<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of his foe's envoy, by some smooth pretext<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To lull), came back with visage much perplext—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And whisper'd Ludovick—"The King has fled!"<span class='linenum'>99</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Vandal stammer'd, stared, but versed in all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The quick resources of a wily head,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That out of evil still a good could call,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He did but pause, with more effect to wing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stone that chance thus fitted to his sling.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Saxon," he said, "thus far we had premised,<span class='linenum'>100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And if still wavering, not our heart in fault.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Three days ago, the Cymrian king, disguised,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">First drank our cup, and tasted of our salt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hence our zeal to aid you we represt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deeming your foe was still the Vandal's guest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lo, while we speak, the saints the bond release;<span class='linenum'>101</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Arthur hath gone from us;—the host is free."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Arthur—the Cymrian!" cried the envoy. "Peace;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In deeds, not words, men's love the Saxons see:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gone!—whither wends he? But a word I need—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leave to the rest my bloodhounds and my steed."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dumb sate the Vandal, dumb with fear and shame:<span class='linenum'>102</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">No slave to virtue, but its shade was he;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A tower of strength is in an honest name—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Tis wise to seem what oft 'tis dull to be!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A kingly host a kingly guest betray!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The chafing Saxon brook'd not that delay—<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 233]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But turn'd his sparkling eyes behind, and saw<span class='linenum'>103</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">His knights and squires with zeal as fierce inflamed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And out he spoke,—"The hospitable law<br /></span> +<span class="i1">We will not trench, whate'er the guest hath claim'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let the host yield! forgive, that, hotly stirr'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His course I question'd; I retract the word.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If on your hearth he stands, protect; within<span class='linenum'>104</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Your realm if wandering, guard him as you may;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This hearth not ours, nor this our realm;—no sin<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To chase our foeman, whatsoe'er his way:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up spear—forth sword! to selle each Saxon man—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unleash the warhounds—stay us those who can!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Loud rang the armèd tumult in the hall;<span class='linenum'>105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rush'd to the doors the Saxon's fiery band;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yell'd the gaunt bloodhounds loosen'd from the thrall;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Steeds neigh'd; leapt forth the falchion to the hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low on the earth the bloodhounds track'd the scent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And where they guided there the hunters went.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Amazed the Vandal with his friend debates<span class='linenum'>106</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">What course were best in such extremes to choose;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nicely they weigh;—the Saxons pass the gates:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Finely refine;—the chase its prey pursues.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And while the chase pursues, to him, whose way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dove directs, well pleased, returns the lay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Twilight was on the earth, when paused the King<span class='linenum'>107</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lone by the beach of far-resounding seas;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rock upon rock, behind, a Titan ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Closed round a gorge o'erhung with breathless trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A horror of still umbrage; and, before,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wave-hollow'd caves arch'd, ruinous, the shore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Column and vault, and seaweed-dripping domes,<span class='linenum'>108</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Long vistas opening through the streets of dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seem'd like a city's skeleton; the homes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of giant races vanish'd since the ark<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rested on Ararat: from side to side<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moan the lock'd waves that ebb not with the tide.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here, path forbid; where, length'ning up the land,<span class='linenum'>109</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The deep gorge stretches to a night of pine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Veer the white wings; and there the slacken'd hand<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Guides the tired steed; deeplier the shades decline;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dull'd with each step into the darker gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Follows the ocean's hollow-sounding boom.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 234]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sudden starts back the steed, with bristling mane<span class='linenum'>110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And nostrils snorting fear; from out the shade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loom the vast columns of a roofless fane,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Meet for some god whom savage man hath made:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A mighty pine-torch on the altar glow'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lit the goddess of the grim abode—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So that the lurid idol, from its throne,<span class='linenum'>111</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Glared on the wanderer with a stony eye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The King breathed quick the Christian orison,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Spurr'd the scared barb, and pass'd abhorrent by—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor mark'd a figure on the floor reclined:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It watch'd, it rose, it crept, it dogg'd behind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Three days, three nights, within that dismal shrine,<span class='linenum'>112</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had couch'd that man, and hunger'd for his prey.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chieftain and priest of hordes that from the Rhine<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had track'd in carnage thitherwards their way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fell souls that still maintain'd their rites of yore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hideous altars rank with human gore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By monstrous Oracles a coming foe,<span class='linenum'>113</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose steps appal his gods, hath been foretold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fane must fall unless the blood shall flow;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Therefore three days, three nights he watch'd;—behold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At last the death-torch of the blazing pine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Darts on the foe the lightning of the shrine!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stealthily on, amidst the brushwood, crept<span class='linenum'>114</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With practised foot and unrelaxing eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The steadfast Murder;—where the still leaf slept<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The still leaf stirr'd not: as it glided by<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mosses gave no echo; not a breath!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nature was hush'd as if in league with Death!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As moved the man, so, on the opposing side<span class='linenum'>115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the deep gorge, with purpose like his own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did steps as noiseless to the blood-feast glide;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And as the man before his idol's throne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had watch'd,—so watch'd, since daylight left the air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A giant wolf within its leafy lair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whether the blaze allured, or hunger stung,<span class='linenum'>116</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">There still had cower'd and crouch'd the beast of prey;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With lurid eyes unwinking, spell-bound, clung<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To the near ridge that faced the torchlit way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the steed pass'd, it rose! On either side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here glides the wild beast, there the man doth glide.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 235]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But all unconscious of the double foe,<span class='linenum'>117</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Paused Arthur, where his resting-place the dove<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seem'd to select,—his couch a mound below;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A bowering beech his canopy above:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From his worn steed the barded mail released,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And left it, reinless, to its herbage-feast.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then from his brow the mighty helm unbraced,<span class='linenum'>118</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And from his breast the hauberk's heavy load;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the tree's trunk the trophied arms he placed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And, ere to rest the weary limbs bestow'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thrice sign'd the cross the fiends of night to scare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And guarded helpless sleep with potent prayer.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then on the moss-grown couch he laid him down,<span class='linenum'>119</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fearless of night and hopeful for the morn:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Slumber's lap the head without a crown<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Forgot the gilded trouble it had worn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Warrior slept—the browsing charger stray'd—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dove, unsleeping, watch'd amidst the shade.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now, on either hand the dreaming King<span class='linenum'>120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Death halts to strike: the crouching wild beast, here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the close crag prepares the rushing spring;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">There, from the thicket creeping, near and near,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Steals the wild man, and listens for a sound—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lifts the pale steel, and gathers for the bound.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But what befell? O thou, whose gentle heart<span class='linenum'>121</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lists, scornful not, this undiurnal rhyme;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If, as thy steps to busier life depart,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still in thine ear rings low the haunting chime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When leisure suits once more forsake the throng,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Call childhood back, and redemand the song.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 236]</span></p> +<h2>BOOK III.</h2> + +<h4>ARGUMENT.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Arthur still sleeps—The sounds that break his rest—The war between the +beast and the man—How ended—The Christian foe and the heathen—The +narrative returns to the Saxons in pursuit of Arthur—Their chase is stayed +by the caverns described in the preceding book, the tides having now +advanced up the gorge through which Arthur passed, and blocked that +pathway—The hunt is resumed at dawn—The tides have receded from the +gorge—One of the hounds finds scent—The riders are on the track—Harold +heads the pursuit—The beech-tree—The man by the water spring—The +wood is left—The knight on the brow of the hill—Parley between the earl +and the knight—The encounter—Harold's address to his men, and his foe—His +foe's reply—The dove and the falcon—The unexpected succour—And +conclusion of the fray—The narrative passes on to the description of the +Happy Valley—in which the dwellers await the coming of a stranger—History +of the Happy Valley—a colony founded by Etrurians from Fiesolè, +forewarned of the destined growth of the Roman dominion—Its strange +seclusion and safety from the changes of the ancient world—The law that +forbade the daughters of the Lartian or ruling family to marry into other +clans—Only one daughter (the queen) is left now, and the male line in the +whole Lartian clan is extinct—The contrivance of the Augur for the continuance +of the royal house, sanctioned by two former precedents—A +stranger is to be lured into the valley—The simple dwellers therein to be +deceived into believing him a god—He is to be married to the queen, and +then, on the birth of a son, to vanish again amongst the gods (<i>i.e.</i> to be +secretly made away with)—Two temples at the opposite ends of the valley +give the only gates to the place—By the first, dedicated to Tina (the Etrurian +Jove), the stranger is to be admitted—In the second, dedicated to Mantu +(the god of the shades), he is destined to vanish—Such a stranger is now +expected in the Happy Valley—He emerges, led by the Augur, from the +temple of Tina—Ægle, the queen, described—Her stranger-bridegroom is +led to her bower.</p></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We raise the curtain where the unconscious king<span class='linenum'>1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Beneath the beech his fearless couch had made;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, the fierce fangs prepared their deadly spring;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">There, in the hand of Murder gleam'd the blade;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And not a sound to warn him from above;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where, still unsleeping, watch'd the guardian dove!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hark, a dull crash!—a howling, ravenous yell!<span class='linenum'>2</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Opening fell symphony of ghastly sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jarring, yet blent, as if the dismal hell<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sent its strange anguish from the rent Profound:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through all its scale the horrible discord ran,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now mock'd the beast, now took the groan of man;<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 237]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wrath, and the grind of gnashing teeth; the growl<span class='linenum'>3</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of famine routed from its red repast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sharp shrilling pain; and fury from some soul<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That fronts despair, and wrestles to the last.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up sprang the King—the moon's uncertain ray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the still leaves just wins its glimmering way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And lo, before him, close, yet wanly faint,<span class='linenum'>4</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Forms that seem shadows, strife that seems the sport<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of things that oft some holy hermit saint<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lone in Egyptian plains (the dread resort<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Nile's dethronèd demon gods) hath view'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The grisly tempters, born of Solitude:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Coil'd in the strong death-grapple, through the dim<span class='linenum'>5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And haggard air, before the Cymrian lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Writhing and interlaced with fang and limb,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As if one shape, what seem'd a beast of prey<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the grand form of Man!—The bird of Heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wisely no note to warn the sleep had given;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sleep protected;—as the Savage sprang,<span class='linenum'>6</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sprang the wild beast;—before the dreamer's breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Defeated Murder found the hungry fang,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The wolf the steel:—so, starting from his rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The saved man woke to save! Nor time was here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For pause or caution; for the sword or spear;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Clasp'd round the wolf, swift arms of iron draw<span class='linenum'>7</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">From their fierce hold the buried fangs;—on high<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up-borne, the baffled terrors of its jaw<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gnash vain;—one yell howls, hollow, through the sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dies abruptly, stifled to a gasp,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the grim heart pants crushing in the grasp.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fit for a nation's bulwark, that strong breast<span class='linenum'>8</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To which the strong arms lock'd the powerless foe!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor oped the vice till breath's last anguish ceast;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Tis done; and dumb the dull weight drops below.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The kindred form, which now the King surveys,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those arms, all gentle as a woman's, raise.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Leaning the pale cheek on his pitying heart,<span class='linenum'>9</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">He wipes the blood from face, and breast, and limb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And joyful sees (for no humaner art<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which Christian knighthood knows, unknown to him)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the fell fangs the nobler parts forbore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, thanks, sweet Virgin! life returns once more.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 238]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The savage stared around: from dizzy eyes<span class='linenum'>10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Toss'd the loose shaggy hair; and to his knee,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His reeling feet—up stagger'd—Lo, where lies<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The dead wild beast!—lo, in his saviour, see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fellow-man, whom—with a feeble bound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He leapt, and snatch'd the dagger from the ground;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, faithful to his gods, he sprang to slay;<span class='linenum'>11</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The weak limb fail'd him; gleam'd and dropp'd the blade;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The arm hung nerveless;—by the beast of prey<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Murder, still baffled, fell:—Then, soothing, said<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gentle King—"Behold no foe in me!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And knelt by Hate like pitying Charity.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In suffering man he could not find a foe,<span class='linenum'>12</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the mild hand clasp'd that which yearn'd to kill!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ha," gasp'd the gazing savage, "dost thou know<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That I had doom'd thee in thy sleep?—that still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My soul would doom thee, could my hand obey?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wake thou, stern goddess—seize thyself the prey!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Serv'st thou a goddess," said the wondering King,<span class='linenum'>13</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Whose rites ask innocent blood?—O brother, learn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In heaven, in earth, in each created thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">One God, whom all call '<span class="smcap">Father</span>' to discern!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Can thy God suffer thy God's foe to live?"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"God once had foes, and said to man, 'Forgive!'"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Christian answer'd. Dream-like the mild words<span class='linenum'>14</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fell on the ear, as sense again gave way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To swooning sleep; which woke but with the birds<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the cold clearness of the dawning day.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strung by that sleep, the savage scowl'd around;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why droops his head? Kind hands his wounds have bound.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lonely he stood, and miss'd that tender foe<span class='linenum'>15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The wolf's glazed eye-ball mutely met his own;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond, the pine-brand sent its sullen glow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Circling blood-red the awful altar-stone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blood-red, as sinks the sun, from land afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere tempests wreck the Amalfian mariner;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Or as, when Mars sits in the House of Death<span class='linenum'>16</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">For doom'd Aleppo, on the hopeless Moor<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glares the fierce orb from skies without a breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">While the chalk'd signal on the abhorrèd door<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tells that the Pestilence is come!—the pine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unheeded wastes upon the hideous shrine;<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 239]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The priest returns not;—from its giant throne,<span class='linenum'>17</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The idol calls in vain:—its realm is o'er;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Dire Religion flies the altar-stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For love has breathed on what was hate before.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lured by man's heart, by man's kind deeds subdued,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Him who had pardon'd, he who wrong'd pursued.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Meanwhile speeds on the Saxon chase, behind;—<span class='linenum'>18</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Baffled at first, and doubling to and fro,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At last, the war-dogs, snorting, seize the wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Burst on the scent, which gathers as they go;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Day wanes, night comes; the star succeeds the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To light the hunt until the quarry's won.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At the first grey of dawn, they halt before<span class='linenum'>19</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The fretted arches of the giant caves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For here the tides rush full upon the shore.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The failing scent is snatch'd amidst the waves,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waves block the entrance of the gorge unseen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And roar, hoarse-surging, up the pent ravine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And worn, and spent, and panting, flag the steeds,<span class='linenum'>20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With mail and man bow'd down; nor meet to breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hell of waters, whence no pathway leads,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And which no plummet sounds;—Reluctant rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Checks the pursuit, till sullenly and slow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back, threatening still, the hosts of Ocean go,—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the bright clouds that circled the fair sun<span class='linenum'>21</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Melt in the azure of the mellowing sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then hark again the human hunt begun,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The ringing hoof, the hunter's cheering cry;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round and around by sand, and cave, and steep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The doubtful ban-dogs, undulating, sweep:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At length, one windeth where the wave hath left<span class='linenum'>22</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The unguarded portals of the gorge, and there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far-wandering halts; and from a rocky cleft<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Spreads his keen nostril to the whispering air;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, with trail'd ears, moves cowering o'er the ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The deep bay booming breaks:—the scent is found.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hound answers hound—along the dank ravine<span class='linenum'>23</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pours the fresh wave of spears and tossing plumes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On—on; and now the idol-shrine obscene<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The dying pine-brand flickeringly illumes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dogs go glancing through the the shafts of stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trample the altar, hurtle round the throne:<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 240]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where the lone priest had watch'd, they pause awhile;<span class='linenum'>24</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then forth, hard breathing, down the gorge they swoop;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon the swart woods that close the far defile<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gleam with the shimmer of the steel-clad troop:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glinting through leaves—now bright'ning through the glade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now lost, dispersed amidst the matted shade.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Foremost rode Harold, on a matchless steed,<span class='linenum'>25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose sire from Afric's coast a sea-king bore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gave the Mercian, as his noblest meed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When (beardless yet) to Norway's Runic shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against a common foe, the Saxon Thane<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Led three tall ships, and loosed them on the Dane:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Foremost he rode, and on his mailèd breast<span class='linenum'>26</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cranch'd the strong branches of the groaning oak.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hark, with full peal, as suddenly supprest,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Behind, the ban-dog's choral joy-cry broke!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Led by the note, he turns him back, to reach,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Near the wood's marge, a solitary beech.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Clear space spreads round it for a rood or more;<span class='linenum'>27</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where o'er the space the feathering branches bend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dogs, wedg'd close, with jaws that drip with gore,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Growl o'er the carcass of the wolf they rend.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shamed at their lord's rebuke, they leave the feast—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scent the fresh foot-track of the idol-priest;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, track by track, deep, deeper through the maze,<span class='linenum'>28</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Slowly they go—the watchful earl behind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here the soft earth a recent hoof betrays;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And still a footstep near the hoof they find;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So on, so on—the pathway spreads more large,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And daylight rushes on the forest marge.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The dogs bound emulous; but, snarling, shrink<span class='linenum'>29</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Back at the anger of the earl's quick cry;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Near a small water spring, had paused to drink<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A man half clad, who now, with kindling eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lifted knife, roused by the hostile sounds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plants his firm foot, and fronts the glaring hounds.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Fear not, rude stranger," quoth the earl in scorn;<span class='linenum'>30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Not thee I seek; my dogs chase nobler prey.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speak, thou hast seen (if wandering here since morn)<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A lonely horseman;—whither wends his way?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Track'st thou his step in love or hate?"—"Why, so<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As hawk his quarry, or as man his foe."<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 241]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thou dost not serve his God," the heathen said;<span class='linenum'>31</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And sullen turn'd to quench his thirst again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fierce earl chafed, but longer not delay'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For what he sought the earth itself made plain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the clear hoof-prints; to the hounds he show'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The clue, and, cheering as they track'd, he rode.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But thrice, to guide his comrades from the maze,<span class='linenum'>32</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rings through the echoing wood his lusty horn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, o'er waste pastures where the wild bulls graze,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Now labouring up slow-lengthening headlands borne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The steadfast hounds outstrip the horseman's flight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on the hill's dim summit fade from sight.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But scarcely fade, before, though faint and far,<span class='linenum'>33</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fierce wrathful yells the foe at bay reveal.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On spurs the Saxon, till, like some pale star,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gleams on the hill a lance—a helm of steel.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The brow is gain'd; a space of level land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bare to the sun—a grove at either hand;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And in the middle of the space a mound;<span class='linenum'>34</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And on the mound a knight upon his barb.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No need for herald there his tromp to sound!—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">No need for diadem and ermine garb!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nature herself has crown'd that lion mien;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the man the king of men is seen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Upon his helmet sits a snow-white dove,<span class='linenum'>35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Its plumage blending with the plumèd crest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Below the mount, recoiling, circling, move<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The ban-dogs, awed by the majestic rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the great foe; and, yet with fangs that grin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And eyes that redden, raves the madding din.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Still stands the steed; still, shining in the sun,<span class='linenum'>36</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sits on the steed the rider, statue-like:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One stately hand upon his haunch, while one<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lifts the tall lance, disdainful ev'n to strike;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm from the roar obscene looks forth his gaze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm as the moon at which the watch-dog bays.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Saxon rein'd his war-horse on the brow<span class='linenum'>37</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the broad hill; and if his inmost heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ever confest to fear, fear touch'd it now;—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not that chill pang which strife and death impart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To meaner men, but such religious awe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As from brave souls a foe admired can draw:<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 242]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Behind a quick and anxious glance he threw,<span class='linenum'>38</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And pleased beheld spur midway up the hill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His knights and squires: again his horn he blew,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then hush'd the hounds, and near'd the slope where still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The might of Arthur rested, as in cloud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rests thunder; there his haughty crest he bow'd,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And lower'd his lance, and said—"Dread foe and lord,<span class='linenum'>39</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pardon the Saxon Harold, nor disdain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To yield to warrior hand a kingly sword.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Behold my numbers! to resist were vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And flight——" Said Arthur, "Saxon, is a word<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Warrior should speak not, nor a King have heard.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And, sooth to say, when Cymri's knights shall ride<span class='linenum'>40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To chase a Saxon monarch from the plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More knightly sport shall Cymri's king provide,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Cymrian tromps shall ring a nobler strain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Warrior, forsooth! when first went warrior, say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With hound and horn—God's image for the prey?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gall'd to the quick, the fiery earl erect<span class='linenum'>41</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rose in his stirrups, shook his iron hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cried—"<span class="smcap">Alfader</span>! but for the respect<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Arm'd numbers owe to one, my Saxon brand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should—but why words? Ho, Mercia to the field!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lance to the rest!—yield, scornful Cymrian, yield!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For answer, Arthur closed his bassinet.<span class='linenum'>42</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then down it broke, the thunder from that cloud!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, ev'n as thunder by the thunder met,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'er his spurr'd steed broad-breasted Harold bow'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift through the air the rushing armour flash'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tempests in the shock commingling clash'd!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Cymrian's lance smote on the Mercian's breast,<span class='linenum'>43</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through the pierced shield,—there, shivering in the hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dove had stirr'd not on the Prince's crest,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And on his destrier bore him to the band,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which, moving not, but in a steadfast ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With levell'd lances front the coming King.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His shiver'd lance thrown by, high o'er his head,<span class='linenum'>44</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pluck'd from the selle, his battle-axe he shook—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Paused for an instant—breathed his foaming steed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And chose his pathway with one lightning look:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On either side, behind the Saxon foes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cimmerian woods with welcome gloom arose;<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 243]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">These gain'd, to conflict numbers less avail.<span class='linenum'>45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">He paused, and every voice cried—"Yield, brave King!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scarce died the word ere through the wall of steel<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flashes the breach, and backward reels the ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plumes shorn, shields cloven, man and horse o'erthrown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the arm'd meteor flames and rushes on.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Till then, the danger shared, upon his crest,<span class='linenum'>46</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unmoved and calm, had sate the faithful dove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Serene as, braved for some beloved breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All peril finds the gentle hero,—Love;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But rising now, towards the dexter side<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where darkest droop the woods, the pinions guide.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Near the green marge the Cymrian checks the rein,<span class='linenum'>47</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And, ev'n forgetful of the dove, wheels round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To front the foe that follows up the plain:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So when the lion, with a single bound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breaks through Numidian spears,—he halts before<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His den,—and roots dread feet that fly no more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Their riven ranks reform'd, the Saxons move<span class='linenum'>48</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">In curving crescent, close, compact, and slow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behind the earl; who feels a hero's love<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fill his large heart for that great hero foe:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Murmuring, "May Harold, thus confronting all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pass from the spear-storm to The Golden Hall!"<a name="FNanchor_1_86" id="FNanchor_1_86"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_86" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then to his band—"If prophecy and sign<span class='linenum'>49</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Paling men's cheeks, and read by wizard seers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had not declared that Odin's threatened line,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the large birthright of the Saxon spears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were cross'd by <span class="smcap">Skulda</span>,<a name="FNanchor_2_87" id="FNanchor_2_87"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_87" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> in the baleful skein<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of him who dares 'The Choosers of the Slain.'<a name="FNanchor_3_88" id="FNanchor_3_88"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_88" class="fnanchor">[3]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If not forbid against his single arm<span class='linenum'>50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Singly to try the even-sworded strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since his new gods, or Merlin's mighty charm,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hath made a host, the were-geld of his life—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not ours this shame!—here one, and there a field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But men are waxen when the Fates are steel'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Seize we our captive, so the gods command—<span class='linenum'>51</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">But ye are men, let manhood guide the blow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spare life, or but with life-defending hand<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Strike—and Walhalla take that noble foe!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sound trump, speed truce."—Sedately from the rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rode out the earl, and Cymri thus address'd:—<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 244]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Our steels have cross'd: hate shivers on the shield;<span class='linenum'>52</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">If the speech gall'd, the lance atones the word;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yield, for thy valour wins the right to yield;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unstain'd the scutcheon, though resign'd the sword.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grant us the grace, which chance (not arms) hath won<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why strike the many who would save the one?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Fair foe, and courteous," answered Arthur, moved<span class='linenum'>53</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">By that chivalric speech, "too well the might<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Mercia's famous Harold have I proved,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To deem it shame to yield as knight to knight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a king's sword is by a nation given;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who guards a people holds his post from heaven.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"This freedom which thou ask'st me to resign<span class='linenum'>54</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Than life is dearer; were it but to show<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That with my people thinks their King!—divine<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through me all Cymri!—Streams shall cease to flow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yon sun to shine, before to Saxon strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One Cymrian yields his freedom save with life.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And so the saints assoil ye of my blood;<span class='linenum'>55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Return;—the rest we leave unto our cause<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the just Heavens!" All silent, Harold stood<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And his heart smote him. Now, amidst that pause,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arthur look'd up, and in the calm above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold a falcon wheeling round the dove!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For thus it chanced; the bird which Harold bore<span class='linenum'>56</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">(As was the Saxon wont), whate'er his way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had, in the woodland, slipp'd the hood it wore,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unmark'd; and, when the bloodhounds bark'd at bay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lured by the sound, had risen on the wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the conflict vaguely hovering—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Till when the dove had left, to guide, her lord,<span class='linenum'>57</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">It caught the white plumes glancing where they went;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High in large circles to its height it soar'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Swoop'd;—the light pinion foil'd the fierce descent;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The falcon rose rebounding to the prey;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And closed escape—confronting still the way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In vain the dove to Arthur seeks to flee;<span class='linenum'>58</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Round her and round, with every sweep more near,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The swift destroyer circles rapidly,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fixing keen eyes that fascinate with fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A moment—and a shaft, than wing more fleet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hurls the pierced falcon at the Saxon's feet.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 245]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Down heavily it fell;—a moment stirr'd<span class='linenum'>59</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Its fluttering plumes, and roll'd its glazing eye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ev'n before the breath forsook the bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ev'n while the arrow whistled through the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rush'd from the grove which screen'd the marksman's hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With yell and whoop, a wild barbarian band—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Half clad, with hides of beast, and shields of horn,<span class='linenum'>60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And huge clubs cloven from the knotted pine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And spears like those by Thor's great children borne,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When Cæsar bridged with marching<a name="FNanchor_4_89" id="FNanchor_4_89"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_89" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> steel the Rhine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Countless they start, as if from every tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had sprung the uncouth defending deity;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They pass the King, low bending as they pass;<span class='linenum'>61</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bear back the startled Harold on their way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And roaring onward, mass succeeding mass,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Snatch the hemm'd Saxons from the King's survey.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Arthur's crest the dove refolds its wing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Arthur's ear a voice comes murmuring,—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Man, have I served thy God?" and Arthur saw<span class='linenum'>62</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The priest beside him, leaning on his bow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Not till, in all, thou hast fulfill'd the law—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou hast saved the friend—now aid to shield the foe;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as a ship, cleaving the sever'd tides,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Right through the sea of spears the hero rides.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wild troop part submissive as he goes;<span class='linenum'>63</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where, like an islet in that stormy main,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gleam'd Mercia's steel; and like a rock arose,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Breasting the breakers, the undaunted Thane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He doff'd his helmet, look'd majestic round;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dropp'd the murderous weapon on the ground;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And with a meek and brotherly embrace<span class='linenum'>64</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Twined round the Saxon's neck the peaceful arm.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strife stood arrested—the mild kingly face,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The loving gesture, like a holy charm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thrill'd through the ranks: you might have heard a breath!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So did soft Silence seem to bury Death.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On the fair locks, and on the noble brow,<span class='linenum'>65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fell the full splendour of the heavenly ray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dove, dislodged, flew up—and rested now,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Poised in the tranquil and translucent day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The calm wings seem'd to canopy the head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from each plume a parting glory spread.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 246]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So leave we that still picture on the eye;<span class='linenum'>66</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And turn, reluctant, where the wand of Song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Points to the walls of Time's long gallery:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the dim Beautiful of Eld—too long<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mouldering unheeded in these later days,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Starts from the canvass, bright'ning as we gaze.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O lovely scene which smiles upon my view,<span class='linenum'>67</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As sure it smiled on sweet Albano's dreams;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He to whom Amor gave the roseate hue<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And that harmonious colour-wand which seems<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pluck'd from the god's own wing!—Arcades and bowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mellifluous waters, lapsing amidst flowers,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Or springing up, in multiform disport,<span class='linenum'>68</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">From murmurous founts, delightedly at play;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if the Naiad held her joyous court<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To greet the goddess whom the flowers obey;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all her nymphs took varying shapes in glee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bell'd like the blossom—branching like the tree.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Adown the cedarn alleys glanced the wings<span class='linenum'>69</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of all the painted populace of air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whatever lulls the noonday while it sings<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or mocks the iris with its plumes,—is there—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Music and air so interfused and blent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That music seems life's breathing element.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And every alley's stately vista closed<span class='linenum'>70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With some fair statue, on whose gleaming base<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beauty, not earth's, benignantly reposed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As if the gods were native to the place;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fair indeed the mortal forms, I ween,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose presence brings no discord to the scene!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, fair they are, if mortal forms they be!<span class='linenum'>71</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mine eye the lovely error must beguile;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So bloom'd the Hours, when from the heaving sea<a name="FNanchor_5_90" id="FNanchor_5_90"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_90" class="fnanchor">[5]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Came Aphroditè to the rosy isle.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What time they left Olympian halls above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To greet on earth their best beguiler—Love?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Are they the Oreads from the Delphian steep<span class='linenum'>72</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Waiting their goddess of the silver bow?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or shy Napææ,<a name="FNanchor_6_91" id="FNanchor_6_91"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_91" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> startled from their sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where blue Cithæron guards sweet vales below,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Watching as home, from vanquished Ind afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comes their loved Evian in the panther-car?<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 247]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why stream ye thus from yonder arching bowers?<span class='linenum'>73</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whom wait, whom watch ye for, O lovely band,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With spears that, thyrsus-like, glance, wreath'd with flowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And garland-fetters, linking hand to hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And locks, from which drop blossoms on your way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like starry buds from the loose crown of May?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Behold how Alp on Alp shuts out the scene<span class='linenum'>74</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">From all the ruder world that lies afar;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deep, fathom-deep, the valley which they screen;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Deep, as in chasms of cloud a happy star!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What pass admits the stranger to your land?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom wait, whom watch ye for, O lovely band?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ages ago, what time the barbarous horde,<span class='linenum'>75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">From whose rough bosoms sprang Imperial Rome,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drew the slow-widening circle of the sword<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till kingdoms vanish'd in a robber's home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A wise Etrurian chief, forewarn'd ('twas said)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By his dark Cære,<a name="FNanchor_7_92" id="FNanchor_7_92"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_92" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> from the danger fled:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He left the vines of fruitful Fiesolè,<span class='linenum'>76</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Left, with his household gods and chosen clan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Intent beyond the Ausonian bounds to flee,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Rome's dark shadow on the world of man.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So came the exiles to the rocky wall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which, centuries after, frown'd on Hannibal<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here, it so chanced, that down the deep profound<span class='linenum'>77</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of some huge Alp—a stray'd Etrurian fell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pious rites ordain'd to explore the ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And give the ashes to the funeral cell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slowly they gain'd the gulf, to scare away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A vulture ravening on the mangled clay;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Smit by a javelin from the leader's hand,<span class='linenum'>78</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The bird crept fluttering down a deep defile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through whose far end faint glimpses of a land,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sunn'd by a softer daylight, sent a smile;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Augur hail'd an omen in the sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And led the wanderers towards the glimmering light.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What seem'd a gorge was but a vista'd cave,<span class='linenum'>79</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Long-drawn and hollow'd through primæval stone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rude was the path, but as, beyond the grave<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Elysium shines, the glorious landscape shone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Broadening and brightening—till their wonder sees<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bloom through the Alps the lost Hesperides.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 248]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There, the sweet sunlight, from the heights debarr'd,<span class='linenum'>80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gather'd its pomp to lavish on the vale;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A wealth of wild sweets glitter'd on the sward,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Screen'd by the very snow-rocks from the gale;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Murmur'd clear waters, murmur'd joyous birds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And o'er soft pastures roved the fearless herds.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His rod the Augur waves above the ground,<span class='linenum'>81</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And cries, "In Tina's name I bless the soil."<a name="FNanchor_8_93" id="FNanchor_8_93"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_93" class="fnanchor">[8]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With veilèd brows the exiles circle round;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Along the rod propitious lightnings coil;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gods approve; rejoicing hands combine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift springs a sylvan city from the pine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What charm yet fails them in the lovely place?<span class='linenum'>82</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Childhood's gay laugh—and woman's tender smile.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A chosen few the venturous steps retrace;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Love lightens toil for those who rest the while;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, ere the winter stills the sadden'd bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sweeter music of glad homes is heard;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And with the objects of the dearer care,<span class='linenum'>83</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The parting gifts of the old soil are home;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon Tusca's grape hangs flushing in the air,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the glebe ripples with the golden corn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gleams on grey slopes the olive's silvery tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In her lone Alpine child,—far Fiesolè<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Revives—reblooms, but under happier stars!<span class='linenum'>84</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Age rolls on age,—upon the antique world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full many a storm hath graved its thunder scars;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tombs only speak the Etrurian's language;<a name="FNanchor_9_94" id="FNanchor_9_94"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_94" class="fnanchor">[9]</a>—hurl'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To dust the shrines of Naith;<a name="FNanchor_10_95" id="FNanchor_10_95"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_95" class="fnanchor">[10]</a>—the serpents hiss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Asia's throne in lorn Persepolis;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The seaweed rots upon the ports of Tyre:<span class='linenum'>85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">On Delphi's steep the Pythian's voice is dumb;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sad Athens leans upon her broken lyre;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the doom'd East the Bethlem Star hath come;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Rome an empire from an empire's loss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gains in the god Rome yielded to the Cross!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And here, as in a crypt, the miser Time,<span class='linenum'>86</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hoards, from all else, embedded in the stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One eldest treasure—fresh as when, sublime<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'er gods and men, Jove thunder'd from his throne—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The garb, the arts, the creed, the tongue, the same<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As when to Tarquin Cuma's sibyl came.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 249]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The soil's first fathers, with elaborate hands,<span class='linenum'>87</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had closed the rocky portals of the place;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No egress opens to unhappier lands:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As tree on tree, so race succeeds to race,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From sleep the passions no temptations draw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And strife bows childlike to the patriarch's law;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lull'd was ambition; each soft lot was cast;<span class='linenum'>88</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gold had no use; with war expired renown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From priest to priest mysterious reverence past;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From king to king the mild Saturnian crown:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like dews, the rest came harmless into birth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like dews exhaling—after gladd'ning earth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not wholly dead, indeed, the love of praise—<span class='linenum'>89</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">When can that warmth from heaven forsake the heart?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Hister's<a name="FNanchor_11_96" id="FNanchor_11_96"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_96" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> lyre still thrill'd with Camsee's lays,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still urn and statue caught the Arretian art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hands, least skill'd, found leisure still to cull<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some flowers, in offering to the Beautiful.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hence the whole vale one garden of delight;<span class='linenum'>90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hence every home a temple for the Grace:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who worships Nature finds in Art the rite;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Beauty grows the Genius of the Place.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enough this record of the happy land:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom watch, whom wait ye for, O lovely band?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Listen awhile!—The strength of that soft state,<span class='linenum'>91</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The arch's key-stones, are the priest and king;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To guard all power inviolate from debate,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To curb all impulse, or direct its wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In antique forms to mould from childhood all;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>This</i> guards more strongly than the Alpine wall.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The regal chief might wed as choice inclined,<span class='linenum'>92</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not so the daughters sprung from his embrace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Law, strong as caste, their nuptial rite confined<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To the pure circle of the Lartian race;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hence with more awe the kingly house was view'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hence nipp'd ambition bore no rival feud.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But now, as on some eldest oak, decay<span class='linenum'>93</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the proud topmost boughs is serely shown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While life yet shoots from every humbler spray—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So, of the royal tribe one branch alone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remains; and all the honours of the race<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lend their last bloom to smile in Ægle's face.<a name="FNanchor_12_97" id="FNanchor_12_97"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_97" class="fnanchor">[12]</a><br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 250]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The great arch-priest (to whom the laws assign<span class='linenum'>94</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The charge of this sweet blossom from the bud),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Consults the annals archived in the shrine,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And, twice before, when fail'd the Lartian blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And no male heir was found, the guiding page<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Records the expedient of the elder age.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Rather than yield to rival tribes the hope<span class='linenum'>95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That wakes aspiring thought and tempts to strife;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And (lowering awful reverence) rashly ope<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The pales that mark the set degrees of life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The priest (to whom the secret only known)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unlock'd the artful portals of the stone;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And watch'd and lured some wanderer, o'er the steep,<span class='linenum'>96</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Into the vale, return for ever o'er;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gate, like Death's, reclosed upon the keep—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Earth left its ghost as on the Funeral shore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And what more envied lot could earth provide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than calm Elysium—with a living bride?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A priestly tale the simple flock deceived:<span class='linenum'>97</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The gods had care of their Tagetian child!<a name="FNanchor_13_98" id="FNanchor_13_98"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_98" class="fnanchor">[13]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">The nuptial garlands for a god they weaved;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A god himself upon the maid had smiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A god himself renew'd the race divine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gave new monarchs to the Lartian line.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet short, alas! the incense of delight<span class='linenum'>98</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That lull'd the new-found Ammon of the Hour;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like love's own star, upon the verge of night,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Trembled the torch that lit the bridal bower;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon as a son was born—his mission o'er—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stranger vanish'd to his gods once more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Two temples closed the boundaries of the place,<span class='linenum'>99</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">One (vow'd to Tina) in its walls conceal'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The granite portals, by the former race<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So deftly fashion'd,—not a chink reveal'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where (twice unbarr'd in all the ages flown)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stony donjon mask'd the door of stone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The fane of Mantu<a name="FNanchor_14_99" id="FNanchor_14_99"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_99" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> form'd the opposing bound<span class='linenum'>100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the long valley; where the surplus wave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the main stream a gloomy outlet found,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Split on sharp rocks beneath a night of cave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there, in torrents, down some lost ravine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Alps took root—fell heard, but never seen.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 251]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Right o'er this cave the Death-Power's temple rose;<span class='linenum'>101</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The cave's dark vault was curtain'd by the shrine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here by the priest (the sacred scrolls depose)<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Was led the bridegroom when renew'd the line;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At night, that shrine his steps unprescient trod—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And morning came, and earth had lost the god!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nine days had now the Augur to the flock<span class='linenum'>102</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Announced the coming of the heavenly spouse;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nine days his steps had wander'd through the rock,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And his eye watch'd through unfamiliar boughs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And not a foot-fall in those rugged ways!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lone Alps wearied on his lonely gaze—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But now this day (the tenth) the signal torch<span class='linenum'>103</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Streams from the temple; the mysterious swell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of long-drawn music peals from aisle to porch:—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He leaves the bright hall where the Æsars<a name="FNanchor_15_100" id="FNanchor_15_100"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_100" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> dwell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He comes, o'er flowers and fountains to preside,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He comes, the god-spouse to the mortal bride—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He comes, for whom ye watch'd, O lovely band,<span class='linenum'>104</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Scatter your flowers before his welcome feet!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, where the temple's holy gates expand,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Haste, O ye nymphs, the bright'ning steps to meet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why start ye back?—What though the blaze of steel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The form of Mars, the expanding gates reveal—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The face, no helmet crowns with war, displays<span class='linenum'>105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not that fierce god from whom Etruria fled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cull from far softer legends while ye gaze,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not there the aspect mortal maid should dread!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have ye no songs from kindred Castaly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of that bright Wanderer from the Olympian<a name="FNanchor_16_101" id="FNanchor_16_101"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_101" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> sky,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who, in Arcadian dells, with silver lute<span class='linenum'>106</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hush'd in delight the nymph and breathless faun?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or are your cold Etrurian minstrels mute<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of him whom Syria worshipp'd as the Dawn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Greece as fair Adonis? Hail, O hail!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scatter your flowers, and welcome to the vale!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wondering the stranger moves! That fairy land,<span class='linenum'>107</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Those forms of dark yet lustrous loveliness,<a name="FNanchor_17_102" id="FNanchor_17_102"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_102" class="fnanchor">[17]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">That solemn seer who leads him by the hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The tongue unknown, the joy he cannot guess,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blend in one marvel every sound and sight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the strangeness doubles the delight.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 252]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Young Ægle sits within her palace bower,<span class='linenum'>108</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">She hears the cymbals clashing from afar—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So Ormuzd's music welcomed in the hour<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When the sun hasten'd to his morning-star.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smile, Star of Morn—he cometh from above!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And twilight melts around the steps of Love.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Save the grey Augur (since the unconscious child<span class='linenum'>109</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sprang to the last kiss of her dying sire)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those eyes by man's rude presence undefiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had deepen'd into woman's. As a lyre<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hung on unwitness'd boughs, amidst the shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And but to air her soul its music made.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair was her prison, wall'd with woven flowers,<span class='linenum'>110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">In a soft isle embraced by softest waters,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Linnet and lark the sentries to the towers,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And for the guard Etruria's infant daughters;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But stronger far than walls, the antique law,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And more than hosts, religion's shadowy awe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus lone, thus reverenced, the young virgin grew<span class='linenum'>111</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Into the age, when on the heart's calm wave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The light winds tremble, and emotions new<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Steal to the peace departing childhood gave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When for the vague Beyond the captive pines,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the soul misses—what it scarce divines.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo where she sits—(and blossoms arch the dome)<span class='linenum'>112</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Girt by young handmaids!—Near and nearer swelling<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cymbals sound before the steps that come<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'er rose and hyacinth to the bridal dwelling;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And clear and loud the summer air along<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From virgin voices floats the choral song.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo where the sacred talismans diffuse<span class='linenum'>113</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Their fragrant charms against the Evil Powers;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo where young hands the consecrated dews<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From cuspèd vervain sprinkle round the flowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And o'er the robe, with broider'd palm-leaves sown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That decks the daughter of the peaceful throne!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo, on those locks of night the myrtle crown,<span class='linenum'>114</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lo, where the heart beats quick beneath the veil;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, where the lids, cast tremulously down,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cloud stars which Eros as his own might hail;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, lovelier than Endymion's loveliest dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joy to the heart on which those eyes shall beam!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 253]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The bark comes bounding to the islet shore,<span class='linenum'>115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The trellised gates fly back: the footsteps fall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through jasmined galleries on the threshold floor;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And, in the Heart-Enchainer's golden thrall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, spell-bound halt;—So, first since youth began<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her eyes meet youth in the charm'd eyes of man!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And there Art's two opposed Ideals rest;<span class='linenum'>116</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">There the twin flowers of the old world bloom forth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The classic symbol of the gentle West,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the bold type of the chivalric North.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What trial waits thee, Cymrian, sharper here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than the wolf's death-fang or the Saxon's spear?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But would ye learn how he we left afar,<span class='linenum'>117</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Girt by the stormy people of the wild,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came to the confines of the Hesperus Star,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the soft gardens of the Etrurian child;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would ye, yet lingering in the wondrous vale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Learn what time spares if sorrow can assail;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What there, forgetful of the vanish'd dove,<span class='linenum'>118</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">(Lost at these portals) did the king befall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pause till the hand has tuned the harp to love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And notes that bring young listeners to the hall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he, whose sires in Cymri reign'd, shall sing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How Tusca's daughter loved the Cymrian King.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 254]</span></p> +<h2>BOOK IV.</h2> + +<h4>ARGUMENT.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Invocation to Love—Arthur, Ægle, and the Augur—Dialogue between the +Cymrian and the Etrurian—Meanwhile Lancelot gains the sea-shore, where +he meets with the Aleman priest and his sons, and hears tidings of Arthur—He +tells them the tale of his own infancy—Crosses the sea—Lands on the +coast of Brettannie—And is guided by the crystal ring in quest of Arthur +towards the Alps—He finds the King's charger, which Arthur had left +without the vaulted passage into the Happy Valley—But the rock-gate +being closed, he cannot discover the King; and, winding by the foot of the +Alps round the valley, gains a lake and a convent—The story now returns to +Arthur and Ægle—Descriptive stanzas—A raven brings Arthur news from +Merlin—The King resolves to quit the valley—He seeks and finds the Augur—Dialogue—Parting +scene with Ægle—Arthur follows the Augur towards +the fane of the funereal god.</p></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hail, thou, the ever young, albeit of Night<span class='linenum'>1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And of primæval Chaos eldest born;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou, at whose birth broke forth the Founts of Light,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And o'er Creation flush'd the earliest Morn!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life, in thy life, suffused the conscious whole;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And formless matter took the harmonious soul.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hail, Love! the death-defier! age to age<span class='linenum'>2</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Linking, with flowers, in the still heart of man!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dream to the bard, and marvel to the sage,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Glory and mystery since the world began.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the new moon, whose disk of silver sheen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But halves the circle Heaven completes unseen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ghostlike amidst the unfamiliar Past,<span class='linenum'>3</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dim shadows flit along the streams of Time;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vainly our learning trifles with the vast<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unknown of ages!—Like the wizard's rhyme<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We call the dead, and from the Tartarus<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis but the dead that rise to answer us!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Voiceless and wan, we question them in vain;<span class='linenum'>4</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">They leave unsolved earth's mighty yesterday.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But wave thy wand—they bloom, they breathe again!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The link is found!—as <i>we</i> love, so loved <i>they</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Warm to our clasp our human brothers start,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All centuries blend when heart speaks out to heart.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 255]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Arch Power, of every power most dread, most sweet,<span class='linenum'>5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ope at thy touch the far celestial gates;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet Terror flies with Joy before thy feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And, with the Graces, glide unseen the Fates.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eos and Hesperus; one, with twofold light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bringer of day, and herald of the night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But, lo! again, where rise upon the gaze<span class='linenum'>6</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Tuscan Virgin in the Alpine bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The steel-clad wanderer, in his rapt amaze,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Led through the flowerets to that living flower:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eye meeting eye, as in that blest survey<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two hearts, unspeaking, breathe themselves away!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Calm on the twain reposed the Augur's eye,<span class='linenum'>7</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">A marble stillness on his solemn face;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like some cold image of Necessity<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When fated hands lay garlands on its base.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And slanted sunbeams, through the blossoms stealing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lit circled Childhood round the Virgin kneeling.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Slow from charm'd wonder woke at last the King,<span class='linenum'>8</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Well the mild grace became the lordly mien,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As, gently passing through the kneeling ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The warrior knelt with Childhood to the queen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on the hand, that thrill'd in his to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Press'd the pure kiss of courteous chivalry;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In the bold music of his mountain tongue,<span class='linenum'>9</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Speaking the homage of his frank delight.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is there one common language to the young<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That, with each word more troubled and more bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stirr'd the quick blush—as when the south wind heaves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into sweet storm the hush of rosy leaves?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But now the listening Augur to the side<span class='linenum'>10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of Arthur moves; and, signing silently,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The handmaid children from the chamber glide,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Ægle followeth slow, with drooping eye.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then on the King the soothsayer gazed and spoke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Arthur started as the accents broke;—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For those dim sounds his mother-tongue express,<span class='linenum'>11</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">But in some dialect of remotest age;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like that in which the far <span class="smcap">Saronides</span><a name="FNanchor_1_104" id="FNanchor_1_104"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_104" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Exchanged dark riddles with the Samian sage.<a name="FNanchor_2_105" id="FNanchor_2_105"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_105" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ghostlike the sounds; a founder of his race<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seem'd in that voice the haunter of the place.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 256]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Guest," said the priest, with labour'd words and slow,<span class='linenum'>12</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"If, as thy language, though corrupt, betrays<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art of those great tribes our records show<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As the crown'd wanderers of untrodden ways<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose eldest god, from pole to pole enshrined,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gives Greece her <span class="smcap">Kronos</span> and her <span class="smcap">Boudh</span> to Ind;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Who, from their Syrian parent-stem, spread forth<span class='linenum'>13</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Their giant roots to every farthest shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sires of young nations in the stormy North,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And slumberous East; but most renown'd of yore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In purple Tyre;—if, of <span class="smcap">Phœnician</span> race,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In truth thou art,—thrice welcome to the place!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Know us as sons of that old friendly soil<span class='linenum'>14</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose ports, perchance, yet glitter with the prows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Punic ships, when resting from their toil<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In <span class="smcap">Luna's</span><a name="FNanchor_3_107" id="FNanchor_3_107"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_107" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> gulf, the seabeat crews carouse.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unless in sooth (and here he sigh'd) the day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cære foretold hath come to <span class="smcap">Rasena</span>!"<a name="FNanchor_4_108" id="FNanchor_4_108"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_108" class="fnanchor">[4]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Grave sir," quoth Arthur, piteously perplext,<span class='linenum'>15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Or much—forgive me, hath my hearing err'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or of that People quoted in thy text,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(Perish'd long since)—but dimly have I heard:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Phœnicians! True, that name is found within<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our scrolls;—they came to <span class="smcap">Mel Ynys</span> for tin!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"As for my race, our later bards declare<span class='linenum'>16</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">It springs from Brut, the famous Knight of Troy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if Sir Hector spoke in Welsh, I ne'er<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Could clearly learn—meanwhile, I hear with joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My native language (pardon the remark)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Much as Noah spoke it when he left the ark.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"More would my pleasure be increased to know<span class='linenum'>17</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That that fair lady has your own precision<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the dear music which, so long ago,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">We <i>taught</i>—observe, not <i>learn'd</i> from—the Phœnician."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Speak as your fathers spoke the maiden can,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O many-vowell'd, ear-afflicting man!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The priest replied. "But, ere I yet disclose<span class='linenum'>18</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The bliss that Northia<a name="FNanchor_5_109" id="FNanchor_5_109"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_109" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> singles for your lot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fain would I learn what change the gods impose<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On the old races and their sceptres?—what<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The latest news from <span class="smcap">Rasena</span>?"—"With shame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I own, grave sir, I never heard that name!"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 257]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Augur stood aghast!—"O, ruthless Fates!<span class='linenum'>19</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who then rules Italy?"—"The Ostrogoth."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The Os——- the what?"—"Except the Papal states;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unless the Goth, indeed, has ravish'd both<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Cæsar's throne and the apostle's chair—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spite of the Knight of Thrace,—Sir Belisair."<a name="FNanchor_6_110" id="FNanchor_6_110"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_110" class="fnanchor">[6]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What else the warrior nations of the earth?"<span class='linenum'>20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Groan'd the stunn'd Augur.—"Reverend sir, the Huns,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Franks, Vandals, Lombards,—all have warlike worth;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor least, I trust, old Cymri's Druid sons!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O, Northia, Northia! and the East?"—"In peace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the Christian Emperor of Greece;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Whose arms of late have scourged the Paynim race,<span class='linenum'>21</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And worsted Satan!"—"Satan, who is he?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Greatly the knight was shock'd in that fair place,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To find such ignorance of the powers that be:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So then, from Eve and Serpent he began;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sketch'd the history of the Foe of Man.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ah," said the Augur,—"here, I comprehend<span class='linenum'>22</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ægypt, and Typhon, and the serpent creed!<a name="FNanchor_7_111" id="FNanchor_7_111"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_111" class="fnanchor">[7]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, o'er the East the gods of Greece extend,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Isis totters?"—"Truly, and indeed,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sigh'd Arthur, scandalized—"I see, with pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You have much to learn my monks could best explain—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Nathless for this, and all you seek to know<span class='linenum'>23</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which I, no clerk, though Christian, can relate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Occasion meet my sojourn may bestow;—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Now, wherefore, pray you, through yon granite gate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have you, with signs of some distress endured,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And succour sought, my wandering steps allured?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Pardon, but first, soul-startling stranger," said<span class='linenum'>24</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The slow-recovering Augur—"say if fair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The region seems to which those steps were led?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And next, the maid to whom you knelt compare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With those you leave. Are hers, in sober truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The charms that fix the roving heart of youth?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lovelier than all on earth mine eyes have seen<span class='linenum'>25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Smiles the gay marvel of this gentle realm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of all earth's beauty that fair maid the queen;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And, might I place her glove upon my helm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I would proclaim that truth with lance and shield,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In tilt and tourney, sole against a field!"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 258]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Since that be so (though what such custom means<span class='linenum'>26</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">I rather guess than fully comprehend)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Answer again;—if right my reason gleans<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From dismal harvests, and discerns the end<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To which the beautiful and wise have come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hard are the fates beyond our Alpine home:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What makes, without, the chief pursuit of life?"<span class='linenum'>27</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"War," said the Cymrian, with a mournful sigh:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The fierce provoke, the free resist, the strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The daring perish and the dastard fly;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amidst a storm we snatch our troubled breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And life is one grim battle-field of death."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then here, O stranger, find at last repose!<span class='linenum'>28</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Here, never smites the thunder-blast of war:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, all unknown the very name of foes;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Here, but with yielding earth men's contests are;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our trophies—flower and olive, corn and wine:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Accept a sceptre, be this kingdom thine!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Our queen, the virgin who hath charm'd thine eyes—<span class='linenum'>29</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Our laws her spouse, in whom the gods shall send,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Decree; the gods have sent thee;—what the skies<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Allot, receive:—Here, shall thy wanderings end,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here thy woes cease, and life's voluptuous day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glide, like yon river through our flowers, away."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Kind sir," said Arthur, gratefully—"such lot<span class='linenum'>30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Indeed were fair beyond what dreams display;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But earth has duties which"——"Relate them not!"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Exclaim'd the Augur—"or at least delay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till better known the kingdom and the bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then youth, and sense, and nature, shall decide."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With that, the Augur, much too wise as yet<span class='linenum'>31</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To hint compulsion, and secure from flight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arose, resolved each scruple to beset<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With all which melteth duty in delight—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, for awhile, we leave the tempted King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And turn to him who owns the crystal ring.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, the old time's divine and fresh romance!<span class='linenum'>32</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">When o'er the lone yet ever-haunted ways<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Went frank-eyed Knighthood with the lifted lance,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And life with wonder charm'd adventurous days!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When light more rich, through prisms that dimm'd it, shone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Nature loom'd more large through the Unknown.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 259]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nature, not then the slave of formal law!<span class='linenum'>33</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her each free sport a miracle might be:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enchantment clothed the forest with sweet awe;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Astolfo<a name="FNanchor_8_112" id="FNanchor_8_112"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_112" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> spoke from out the bleeding tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fairy wreath'd his dance in moonlit air;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On golden sands the mermaid sleek'd her hair—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then soul learn'd more than barren sense can teach<span class='linenum'>34</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">(Soul with the sense now evermore at strife)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherever fancy wander'd man could reach—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And what is now call'd poetry was life.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If the old beauty from the world is fled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it that Truth or that Belief is dead?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not following, step by step, the devious King,<span class='linenum'>35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">But whither best his later steps are gain'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moved the sure index of the fairy ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And since, at least, a moon hath wax'd and waned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What time the pilgrim left the fatherland—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So towards his fresher footsteps veer'd the hand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo, now where pure Sabrina<a name="FNanchor_9_113" id="FNanchor_9_113"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_113" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> on her breast<span class='linenum'>36</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hushes sweet Isca, and, like some fair nun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That yearns, earth-wearied, for the golden rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sees with delighted calm her journey done;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And broader, brighter, as she nears her grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Melts in the deep;—all daylight on the wave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Across that stream pass'd sprightly Lancelot,<span class='linenum'>37</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then, towards those lovely lands which yet retain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Cymrian freedom, rode, and rested not<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till, loud on Devon, broke the rough'ning main.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through rocks abrupt, the strong waves force their way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here cleave the land—there, hew the indented bay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The horseman paused. Rude huts lay far and wide;<span class='linenum'>38</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The dipping sea-gulls wheel'd with startled shriek;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drawn on the sands lay coracles of hide,<a name="FNanchor_10_114" id="FNanchor_10_114"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_114" class="fnanchor">[10]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And all was desolate; when, towards the creek,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Near which he halts, he hears the plashing oar;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A boat shoots in; the seamen leap to shore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Three were their number,—two in youthful prime,<span class='linenum'>39</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">One of mid years;—tall, huge of limb the three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scarce clad, with weapons of a northward clime;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Clubs, spears, and shields—the uncouth armoury<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of man, while yet the wild beast is his foe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet something still the lords of earth may show;—<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 260]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The pride of eye, the majesty of mien,<span class='linenum'>40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The front erect that looks upon the star:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While round each neck the twisted chains are seen<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of Teuton chiefs;—(and signs of chiefs they are<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Cymrian lands—where still the torque of gold<a name="FNanchor_11_115" id="FNanchor_11_115"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_115" class="fnanchor">[11]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or decks the highborn or rewards the bold).<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stern Lancelot frown'd; for in those sturdy forms<span class='linenum'>41</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Christian Knight the Saxon foemen fear'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Why come ye hither?—nor compell'd by storms,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor proffering barter?" As he spoke they near'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The noble knight;—and thus the elder said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nought save his heart the Aleman hath led!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ere more I answer, say if this the shore,<span class='linenum'>42</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And thou the friend, of him who owns the dove?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arthur the king,—who taught us to adore<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By the man's deeds the God whose creed is love?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then Lancelot answer'd, with a moistening eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Arthur's true knight and lealest friend am I."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With that, he leapt from selle to clasp the hand<span class='linenum'>43</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of him who honour'd thus the absent one:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now behold them seated on the sand,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Frank faces smiling in the cordial sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The absent, there, seem'd present: to unite,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In loving bonds, his converts and his knight.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then told the Aleman the tale by song<span class='linenum'>44</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Already told—and we resume its flow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the mild hero charm'd the stormy throng<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And twined the arm that shelter'd, round his foe:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not meanly conquer'd but sublimely won—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stern Harold vail'd his plume to Uther's son.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Saxon troop resought the Vandal king,<span class='linenum'>45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Arthur sojourn'd with the savage race:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More easy such rude proselytes to bring<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To Christian truth, than, in the wonderous place<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where now he rests, proud Wisdom he shall find!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For heaven dawns clearest on the simplest mind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But when his cause of wrong the Cymrian show'd;<span class='linenum'>46</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The heathen foe—the carnage-crimson'd fields;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With one fierce impulse those fierce converts glow'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And their wild war-howl chimed with clashing shields<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Arthur wisely shunn'd that last appeal<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of falling states,—the stranger's fatal steel.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 261]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet to the chief (for there at least no fear)<span class='linenum'>47</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And his two sons, a slow consent he gave:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Show'd by the prince the stars by which to steer,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They hew'd a pine and launch'd it on the wave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bringing rough forms but dauntless hearts to swell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The force that guards the fates of Carduel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The story heard, the son of royal <span class="smcap">Ban</span><a name="FNanchor_12_116" id="FNanchor_12_116"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_116" class="fnanchor">[12]</a><span class='linenum'>48</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Questions the paths to which the King was led.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Know," answered Faul (so hight the Aleman),<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"That, in our father's days, our warriors spread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er lands wherein eternal summer dwells,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond the snow-storm's siegeless pinnacles;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And on the borders of those lands, 'tis told,<span class='linenum'>49</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">There lies a lake, some dead great city's grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where, when the moon is at her full, behold<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pillar and palace shine up from the wave!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And o'er the lake, seen but by gifted seers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its phantom bark a silent phantom steers.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It chanced, as round our fires we sate at night,<span class='linenum'>50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And saga-runes to wile our watch were sung,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That with the legends of our father's might<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And wandering labours, this old tale was strung,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then the roused King much question'd:—what we knew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We told, still question from each answer grew.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"That night he slept not—with the morn was gone;<span class='linenum'>51</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the dove led him where the snow-storms sleep."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then Lancelot rose, and led his destrier on,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And gain'd the boat, and motion'd to the deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His purpose well the Alemen divine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And launch once more the bark upon the brine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And ask to aid—"Know, friends," replied the knight,<span class='linenum'>52</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Each wave that rolleth smooths its frown for me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My sire and mother, by the lawless might<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of a fierce foe expell'd and forced to flee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the fair halls of <span class="smcap">Benoic</span>, paused to take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breath for new woes, beside a Fairy's lake.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"With them was I, their new-born helpless heir,<span class='linenum'>53</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The hunted exiles gazed afar on home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And saw the fires that dyed like blood the air<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pall with the pomp of hell the crashing dome.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They clung, they gazed—no word by either spoken;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in that hush the sterner heart was broken.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 262]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The woman felt the cold hand fail her own;<span class='linenum'>54</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The head that lean'd fell heavy on the sod;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She knelt—she kiss'd the lips,—the breath was flown!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">She call'd upon a soul that was with God:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the first time the wife's sweet power was o'er—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She who had soothed till then could soothe no more!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"In the wife's woe, the mother was forgot.<span class='linenum'>55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">At last—(for I was all earth held of him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who had been all to her, and now was not)—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">She rose, and look'd with tearless eyes, but dim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the babe's face the father still to see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lo! the babe was on another's knee!—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Another's lip had kiss'd it into sleep,<span class='linenum'>56</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And o'er the sleep another, watchful, smiled;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Fairy sate beside the lake's still deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And hush'd with chanted charms the orphan child!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scared at the cry the startled mother gave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It sprang, and, snow-like, melted in the wave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There, in calm halls of lucent crystalline,<span class='linenum'>57</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fed by the dews that fell from golden stars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But through the lymph I saw the sunbeams shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor dream'd a world beyond the glist'ning spars;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Buoy'd by a charm that still endows and saves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In stream or sea, the nurseling of the waves.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"In my fifth year, to Uther's royal towers<span class='linenum'>58</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The fairy bore me, and her charge resign'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My mother took the veil of Christ—the Hours<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With Arthur's life the orphan's life entwined.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er mine own element my course I take—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All oceans smile on Lancelot of the Lake!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He said, and waved his hand: around the boat<span class='linenum'>59</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The curlews hover'd, as it shot to sea.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wild men, lingering, watch'd the lessening float,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till in the far expanse lost desolately,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then slowly towards the hut they bent their way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the lone waves moan'd up the lifeless bay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pass we the voyage. Hunger-worn, to shore<span class='linenum'>60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gain'd man and steed; there food and rest they found<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In humble roofs. The course, resumed once more,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stretch'd inland o'er not unfamiliar ground:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wanderer smiles, by tower and town, to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cymri's old oak rebloom in Brettanie.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 263]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nathless, no pause, save such as needful rest<span class='linenum'>61</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Demands, delays him in the friendly land.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No tidings here of Arthur gain'd, his breast<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Springs to the goal of the quick-moving hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Howbeit not barren of adventurous days,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet danger found him in the devious ways.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What foes encounter'd, or what damsels freed—<span class='linenum'>62</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">What demon spells in lonely forests braving,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leave we to songs yet vocal to the reed<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On ev'ry bank, beloved by poets, waving;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our task unborrow'd from the muse of old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Takes but the tale by nobler bards untold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now as he journeys, frequent more and more<span class='linenum'>63</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The traces of the steps he tracks are found;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fame, like a light, shines broadening on before<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His path, and cleaves the shadows on the ground;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High deeds and gentle, bruited near and far,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Show where that soul went flashing as a star.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At length he gains the Ausonian Alpine walls;<span class='linenum'>64</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Here, castle, convent, town, and hamlet fade;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lone, through the rolling mists, the hoof-tread falls;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lone, earth's mute giants loom amidst the shade:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet still, as sure of hope, he tracks the king,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up steep, through gorge, where guides the crystal ring.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One day—along by gloomy chasms his course—<span class='linenum'>65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">He saw before him indistinctly pass<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the dun fogs, what seem'd a phantom horse,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Like that which oft, amidst the dank morass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bestrid by goblin-meteor, starts the eye—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So fleshless flitting—wan and shadowy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By a bare rock it paused, and feebly neigh'd.<span class='linenum'>66</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As the good knight, descending, seized the rein;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dew-rusted mail the shrunken front array'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The rich selle rotted with the moulder-stain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on the selle were slung helm, axe, and mace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the great lance lay careless near the place.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then first the seeker's stricken spirit fell;<span class='linenum'>67</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Too well that helmet, with its dragon crest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speaks of the mighty owner; and too well<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That steed, so oft by snowy hands carest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When bright-eyed Beauty from the balcon bent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To crown the victor-lord of tournament.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 264]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Near and afar he searched—he called in vain,<span class='linenum'>68</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">By crag and combe, nought answering, and nought seen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Return'd, the charger long refused the rein,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Clinging, poor slave, where last its lord had been.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At length the slow, reluctant hoofs obey'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soothing words; so went they through the shade:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Following the gorge that wound the Alpine wall,<span class='linenum'>69</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Like the huge fosse of some Cyclopean town,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(While roaring round, invisible cataracts fall);<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On the black rocks twilight comes ghostly down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And deep and deeper still the windings go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dark and darker as to worlds below.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Night halts the course, resumed at earliest day,<span class='linenum'>70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through day pursued, till the last sunbeams fell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On a broad mere whose margin closed the way.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hark! o'er the waters swung the holy bell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From a grey convent on the rising ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amidst the subject hamlet stretch'd around.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here, while both man and steeds the welcome rest<span class='linenum'>71</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Under the sacred roof of Christ receive,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We turn once more to Ægle and her guest.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lo! the sweet valley in the flush of eve!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo! side by side, where through the rose-arcade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Steals the love star, the hero and the maid!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Silent they gaze into each other's eyes,<span class='linenum'>72</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stirring the inmost soul's unquiet sleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So pierce soft star-beams, blending wave and skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Some holy fountain trembling to its deep!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright to each eye each human heart is bare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And scarce a thought to start an angel there!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Love to the soul, whate'er the harsh may say,<span class='linenum'>73</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is as the hallowing Naïad to the well—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The linking life between the forms of clay<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And those ambrosia nurtures; from its spell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fly earth's rank fogs, and Thought's ennobled flow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shines with the shape that glides in light below.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Seize, O beloved, the blooms the Hour allows!<span class='linenum'>74</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Alas, but once can flower the Beautiful!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hark, the wind rustles through the trembling boughs,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the stem withers while the buds ye cull!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brief though the prize, how few in after hours<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can say, "at least the Beautiful <i>was</i> ours!"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 265]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Two loves (and both divine and pure) there are;<span class='linenum'>75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">One by the roof-tree takes its root for ever,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor tempests rend, nor changeful seasons mar—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It clings the stronger for the storm's endeavour;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath its shade the wayworn find their rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in its boughs the calm bird builds its nest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But one more frail (in that more prized, perchance),<span class='linenum'>76</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bends its rich blossoms over lonely streams<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the untrodden ways of wild Romance,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On earth's far confines, like the Tree of Dreams,<a name="FNanchor_13_117" id="FNanchor_13_117"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_117" class="fnanchor">[13]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Few find the path;—O bliss! O woe to find!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What bliss the blossom!—ah! what woe the wind!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, the short spring!—the eternal winter!—All<span class='linenum'>77</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Branch,—stem all shatter'd; fragile as the bloom!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet this the love that charms us to recall<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Life's golden holiday before the tomb;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea! <i>this</i> the love which age again lives o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hears the heart beat loud with youth once more!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Before them, at the distance, o'er the blue<span class='linenum'>78</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the sweet waves which girt the rosy isle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flitted light shapes the inwoven alleys through:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Remotely mellow'd, musical the while,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Floated the hum of voices, and the sweet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lutes chimed with timbrels to dim-glancing feet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The calm swan rested on the breathless glass<span class='linenum'>79</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of dreamy waters, and the snow-white steer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Near the opposing margin, motionless,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stood, knee-deep, gazing wistful on its clear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And life-like shadow, shimmering deep and far,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where on the lucid darkness fell the star.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Near them, upon its lichen-tinted base,<span class='linenum'>80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gleam'd one of those fair fancied images<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which art hath lost—no god of Idan race,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But the wing'd symbol which, by Caspian seas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or Susa's groves, its parable addrest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the wild faith of Iran's Zendavest.<a name="FNanchor_14_118" id="FNanchor_14_118"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_118" class="fnanchor">[14]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Light as the soul, whose archetype it was<span class='linenum'>81</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Genius touch'd, yet spurn'd the pedestal;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behind, the foliage, in its purple mass,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shut out the flush'd horizon; clasping all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nature's hush'd giants stood to guard and girth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The only home of peace upon the earth.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 266]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when, at last, from Ægle's lips, the voice<span class='linenum'>82</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Came soft as murmur'd hymns at closing day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sweet sound seem'd the sweet air to rejoice—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To give the sole charm wanting,—to convey<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The crowning music to the Musical;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As with the soul of love infusing all!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And to the Northman's ear that antique tongue,<span class='linenum'>83</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which from the Augur's lips fell weird and cold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seem'd as the thread in fairy tales,<a name="FNanchor_15_119" id="FNanchor_15_119"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_119" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> which strung<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Enchanted pearls, won from the caves of old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And woven round a sunbeam;—so was wrought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er cordial love the pure and delicate thought.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She spoke of youth's lost years, so lone before,<span class='linenum'>84</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And coming to the present, paused and blush'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if Time's wing were spell-bound evermore,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Life, the restless, in the hour were hush'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pause, the blush, said more than words, "And thou<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Art found!—thou lov'st me!—Fate is powerless now!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That hand in his—that heart his own entwining<span class='linenum'>85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With its life's tendrils,—youth his pardon be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If in his heaven no loftier star were shining—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If round the haven boom'd unheard the sea—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If in the wreath forgot the thorny crown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the harsh duties of severe renown.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Blame we as well the idlesse of a dream,<span class='linenum'>86</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As that entranced oblivion from the reign<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the Great Curse, which glares in every beam<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of labouring suns to the stern race of Cain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So life from earth did Nature here withdraw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the strange peace seem'd but earth's common law.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet some excuse all stronger spirits take<span class='linenum'>87</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">For all repose from toil (to strength the doom)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How sweet in that fair heathen soil to wake<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The living palm God planted on the tomb!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so, and long, did Passion's subtle art<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mask with the soul the impulse of the heart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wonderous and lovely in that last retreat<span class='linenum'>88</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the old Gods,—the simple speech to hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell of the Messenger whose beauteous feet<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had gilt the mountain-tops with tidings clear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of veilless Heaven, while Ægle, thoughtful said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"<i>This</i>, love makes plain—yes, love can ne'er be dead!"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 267]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now, as Night gently deepens round them, while<span class='linenum'>89</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Oft to the moon upturn their happy eyes—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still, hand in hand, they range the lullèd isle.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Air knows no breeze, scarce sighing to their sighs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No bird of night shrieks bode from drowsy trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nought lives between them and the Pleïades;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Save where the moth strains to the moon its wing,<span class='linenum'>90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Deeming the Reachless near;—the prophet race<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the cold stars forewarn'd them not; the Ring<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of great Orion, who for the embrace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Morn's sweet Maid had died,<a name="FNanchor_16_120" id="FNanchor_16_120"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_120" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> look'd calm above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The last unconscious hours of human love.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Each astral influence unrevealing shone<span class='linenum'>91</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'er the dark web its solemn thread enwove;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mars shot no anger from his fatal throne,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">No beam spoke trouble in the House of Love;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their closing path the treacherous smile illumed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the stern Star-kings kiss'd the brows they doom'd.—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Tis morn once more; upon the shelving green<span class='linenum'>92</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the small isle, alone the Cymrian stood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With his full heart,—when, suddenly, between<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Him and the sun, the azure solitude<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was broken by a dark and rapid wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a dusk bird swoop'd downward to the King.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the King's cheek grew pale, for well to him<span class='linenum'>93</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">(As now the raven, settling, touch'd his feet),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was known the mystic messenger:—where, grim<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'er the Black Valley,<a name="FNanchor_17_121" id="FNanchor_17_121"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_121" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> demon shadows fleet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glass'd on the lake whose horror scares away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each harmless wing that skims the golden day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Prophet's dauntless childhood stray'd and found<span class='linenum'>94</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The weird bird muttering by the waves of dread;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Three days and nights upon the haunted ground<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The raven's beak the solemn infant fed:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ever after (so the legend ran)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lone bird tended on the lonely man.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O'er the Man's temples fell the snows of age,<span class='linenum'>95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As fresh the lustrous ebon of the Bird,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Less awe had credulous terror of the sage<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Than that familiar by the Fiend conferr'd—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So thought the crowd; nor knew what holy lore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lives in all things whose instinct is to soar.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 268]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hoarse croaks the bird, and, with its round bright eye,<span class='linenum'>96</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fixes the gaze of the recoiling King;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slowly the hand, that trembles, cuts the tie<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which binds the white scroll gleaming from the wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And these the words, "Weak Loiterer from thy toil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Saxon's march is on thy father's soil."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bounded the Prince!—As when the sudden sun<span class='linenum'>97</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Looses the ice-chains on the halted rill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smites the dumb snow-mass, and the cataracts run<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In molten thunder down the clanging hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So from his heart the fetters burst; and strong<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In its rough course the great soul rush'd along.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As looks a warrior on the fort he scales,<span class='linenum'>98</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">His glance darts round the everlasting steeps—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not there escape!—the wildest fancy quails<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Before those heights on which the whitening deeps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of measureless heaven repose:—below their frown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Planed as a wall, shears the smooth granite down.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Marvel, indeed, how ev'n the enchanted wing<span class='linenum'>99</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had o'er such rampires won to the abode:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But not for marvel paused the kindled King,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Swift, as Pelides stung to war, he strode;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the dark herald, with its sullen scream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rose, and fled, dismal as an evil dream.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Carved as for Love, a slender boat rock'd o'er<span class='linenum'>100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The ripple with the murmuring marge at play,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He loosed its chain, he gain'd the adverse shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Startled the groups that flutter'd round his way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Awed by the knitted brow and flashing eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of him they deem'd the native of the skies.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As towards the fane, which closed on hardy life<span class='linenum'>101</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The granite path to Labour's world behind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er trampled flowers, strode the stern Child of Strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He saw the melancholy priest reclined<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the shade of hush'd Dodonian boughs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bending, o'er mystic scrolls, calm, mournful brows.—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Loud on that musing leisure broke the cry<span class='linenum'>102</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the imperious Northman, "Rise, unbar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your granite gates—the eagle seeks the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The captive freedom, and the warrior war!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slow rose the Augur, and this answer gave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Man, see thy world—its outlet is the grave!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 269]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thou hast our secret! Thou must share our fates:<span class='linenum'>103</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Alps and Orcus guard ourselves—and thee!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To what new Mars shall Janus ope the gates?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou speak'st of war, and then demand'st the key!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scornful he turn'd—but thrill'd with wrath to feel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His sacred arm lock'd in a grasp of steel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Trifle not, host,—Fate calls me to depart;<span class='linenum'>104</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">On my shamed soul a prophet's voice hath cried!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor Alps nor Orcus like a loyal heart<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ensures the secret trustful lips confide."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Augur sneer'd—"A loyal heart, forsooth!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And what says Ægle of the stranger's truth?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Let Ægle answer," cried the noble lover;<span class='linenum'>105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Let Ægle judge the trust I hold from Heaven.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I faithless!—I—a King?—my labours over,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From mine own soil the surge of carnage driven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I will come, as kings should come, to claim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A mate for empire, and a meed for fame!"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Long mused the Augur, and at length replied,<span class='linenum'>106</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">His guile scarce mask'd in his malignant gaze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Take, as thou say'st, an answer from thy bride—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then, if still wearied of untroubled days—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more from Mantu<a name="FNanchor_18_122" id="FNanchor_18_122"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_122" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> Pales shall control;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And one free gate shall open on thy soul!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He said, and drew his large robe round his form,<span class='linenum'>107</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And wrathful swept along, as o'er the sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A cloud sweeps dark, secret with hoarded storm;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Behind him went the guest as silently;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Afar the gazing wonderers whisper'd, while<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They cross'd the girdling wave and reach'd the isle.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With violet buds, bright Ægle, in her bower,<span class='linenum'>108</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Knits the dark riches of her lustrous hair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her heart springs eager to the magic hour<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When to loved eyes 'tis glorious to be fair:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gleams of a neck, proud as the swan's, escape<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The light-spun tunic rounded to the shape.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The airy veil, its silver cloud dividing,<span class='linenum'>109</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Falls, and floats fragrant, from the violet crown.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What happy thought is in that breast presiding<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Like some serenest bird that settles down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Its wanderings over) on calm summer eves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into its nest, amid the secret leaves?<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 270]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What happy thought in those large tranquil eyes<span class='linenum'>110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Speaks of a bliss remote from human fear?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speaks of a soul which like a star supplies<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Its own circumfluent lustrous atmosphere;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weaves beam on beam around its peace, and glows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft through the splendour which itself bestows?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who ever gazed on perfect happiness,<span class='linenum'>111</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor felt it as the shadow cast from God?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It seems so still in its sublime excess,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So brings all heaven around its hush'd abode,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That in its very beauty awe has birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dismay'd by too much glory for the earth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Across the threshold now abruptly strode<span class='linenum'>112</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her youth's stern guardian. "Child of <span class="smcap">Rasena</span>,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He said, "the lover on thy youth bestow'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For the last time on earth thine eyes survey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unless thy power can chain the faithless breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sated bliss deigns gracious to be blest."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Not so!" cried Arthur, as his loyal knee<span class='linenum'>113</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bent to the earth, and with the knightly truth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of his right hand he clasp'd her own;—"to be<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thine evermore; youth mingled with thy youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Age with thine age; in thy grave mine; above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soul with thy soul—this is the Christian's love!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oft wouldst thou smile, believing smile, to hear<span class='linenum'>114</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy lover speak of knighthood's holy vow—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That vow holds falsehood more abhorr'd than fear,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And canst thou doubt both love and knighthood now?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His words rush'd on—told of the threaten'd land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fates confided to the sceptred hand,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here gathering woes, and there suspended toil;<span class='linenum'>115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the stern warning from the distant seer.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Thine be my people—thine this bleeding soil;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Queen of my realm, its groaning murmurs hear!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then ask thyself, what manhood's choice should be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">False to my country, were I worthy thee?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dim through her struggling sense the light came slow,<span class='linenum'>116</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Struck from those words of fire. Alas, poor child!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What, in thine isle of roses, shouldst thou know<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of earth's grave duties?—of that stormy wild<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of care and carnage—the relentless strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of man with happiness, and soul with life?<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 271]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou who hadst seen the sun but rise and set<span class='linenum'>117</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'er one Saturnian Arcady of rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Snatch'd from the Age of Iron? Ever, yet,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dwells that fine instinct in the noble breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which each high truth intuitive receives,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And what the Reason grasps not, Faith believes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So in mute woe, one hand to his resign'd,<span class='linenum'>118</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And one press'd firmly on her swelling heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Passive she heard, and in her labouring mind<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Strove with the dark enigma—"part!—to part!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till, having solved it by the beams that broke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From that clear soul on hers, struggling she spoke:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thou bidst me trust thee!—This is my reply:<span class='linenum'>119</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Trust is my life—to trust thee is to live!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ev'n farewell less bitter than thy sigh<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For something Ægle is too poor to give.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou speak'st of dread and terror, strife and woe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I might wonder why they tempt thee so;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And I might ask how more can mortals please<span class='linenum'>120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The heavens, than thankful to enjoy the earth?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But through its mist my soul, though faintly, sees<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where thine sweeps on beyond this mountain girth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, awed and dazzled, bending I confess<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life may have holier ends than happiness!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yes, as thou offerest joy upon the shrine<span class='linenum'>121</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of some bright good, all human joys above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So does my heart its altar seek in thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Content to bleed:—Thee, not myself, I love!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sighing, she ceased; and yet still seem'd to sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As doth the wave on which the zephyrs die.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then, as she felt his tears upon her hand,<span class='linenum'>122</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sorrow woke sorrow, and her face she bow'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As when the silver gates of heaven expand,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And on the earth descends the melting cloud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So sunk the spirit from sublimer air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the woman rush'd on her despair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"To lose thee—oh, to lose thee! To live on<span class='linenum'>123</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And see the sun—not thee! Will the sun shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will the birds sing, flowers bloom, when thou art gone?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Desolate, desolate! Thy right hand in mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swear, by the Past, thou wilt return!—Oh, say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say it again!"——voice died in sobs away!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 272]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mute look'd the Augur, with his deathful eyes,<span class='linenum'>124</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">On the last anguish of their lock'd embrace.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Priest," cried the lover, "canst thou deem this prize<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lost to my future?—No, though round the place<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yon Alps took life, with all the dire array<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of demon legions, Love would force the way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hear me, adored one!" On the silent ear<span class='linenum'>125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The promise fell, and o'er the unconscious frame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wound the protecting arm.—"Since neither fear<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the great Powers thou dost blaspheming name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor the soft impulse native in man's heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Restrains thee, doom'd one—hasten to depart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come, in thy treason merciful at least,<span class='linenum'>126</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Come, while those eyes by pitying slumbers bound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See not thy shadow pass from earth!"——The priest<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Spoke,—and now call'd the infant handmaids round;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But o'er that form with arms that vainly cling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And words that idly comfort, bends the King.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Nay, nay, look up! It is these arms that fold;—<span class='linenum'>127</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">I still am here;—this hand, these tears, are mine."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, when they sought to loose her from his hold,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He waived them back with a fierce jealous sign;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er her hush'd breath his listening ear he bow'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the awed children round him wept aloud.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But when the soul broke faint from its eclipse,<span class='linenum'>128</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And his own name came, shaping life's first sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His very heart seem'd breaking in the lips<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Press'd to those faithful ones;—then tremblingly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He rose;—he moved;—he paused;—his nerveless hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Veil'd the dread agony of man unmann'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus, from the chamber, as an infant meek<span class='linenum'>129</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The priest's slight arm led forth the mighty King;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vain wide air came fresh upon his cheek,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Passive he went in his great sorrowing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hate, the mute guide,—the waves of death, the goal;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, following Hermes, glides to Styx a soul.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 273]</span></p> +<h2>BOOK V.</h2> + +<h4>ARGUMENT.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The Council-hall in Carduel—The twelve Knights of the Round Table described, +viz., the three Knights of Council, the three Knights of Battle, the +three Knights of Eloquence, and the three Lovers—Merlin warns the chiefs +of the coming Saxons, and enjoins the beacon-fires to be lighted—The story +returns to Arthur—The dove has not been absent, though unseen—It comes +back to Arthur—The Priest leads the King through the sepulchral valley +into the temple of the Death-god—Description of the entrance of the temple, +with the walls on which is depicted the progress of the guilty soul through +the realms below—The cave, the raft, and the stream which conducts to the +cataract—Arthur enters the boat, and the dove goes before him—Ægle +awakes from her swoon, and follows the King to the temple—Her dialogue +with the Augur—She disappears in the stream—Meanwhile Lancelot wanders +in the valleys on the other side of the Alps, and is led to the cataract by the +magic ring—The apparition of the dove—He follows the bird up the skirts of +the cataract—He finds Arthur and Ægle, and conveys them to the convent—The +Christian hymn, and the Etrurian dirge—Arthur and Lancelot seated +by the lake—The Lady of the Lake appears in her pinnace to Lancelot—The +King's sight is purged from its film by the bitter herb, and he enters the +magic bark.</p></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In the high Council Hall of Carduel,<span class='linenum'>1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Beside the absent Arthur's ivory throne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(What time the earlier shades of evening fell),<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wan-silvering through the hush, the cresset shone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er the arch-seer,—as, 'mid the magnates there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rose his large front, august with prophet care;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Rose his large front above the luminous guests,<span class='linenum'>2</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The deathless <span class="smcap">Twelve</span> of that heroic Ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which, as the belt wherein Orion rests,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Girded with subject stars the starry king;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without, strong towers guard Rome's elaborate wall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within is Manhood!—strongest tower of all.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">First, Muse of Cymri, name the Council three<a name="FNanchor_1_123" id="FNanchor_1_123"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_123" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><span class='linenum'>3</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who, of maturer years and graver mien,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wise in the past, conceived the things to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And temper'd impulse quick with thought serene;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor young, nor old—no dupes to rushing Hope,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor narrowing to tame Fear th' ignoble scope.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 274]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of these was Cynon of the highborn race,<span class='linenum'>4</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">A cold but dauntless—calm but earnest man;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With deep eyes shining from a thoughtful face,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And spare slight form, for ever in the van<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When ripening victories crown'd laborious deeds;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reaper of harvest—sower not of seeds;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For scarcely his the quick far-darting soul<span class='linenum'>5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which, like Apollo's shaft, strikes lifeless things<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into divine creation; but, the whole<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Once rife, the skill which into concord brings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The jarring parts; shapes out the rudely wrought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And calls the action living from the thought.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Next Aron see—not rash, yet gaily bold,<span class='linenum'>6</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With the frank polish of chivalric courts;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Him from the right, no fear of wrong controll'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And toil he deem'd the sprightliest of his sports;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er War's dry chart, or Wisdom's mystic page,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alike as smiling, and alike as sage;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With the warm instincts of the knightly heart,<span class='linenum'>7</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That rose at once if insult touch'd the realm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He spurn'd each state-craft, each deceiving art,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And rode to war, no vizor to his helm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This proved his worth, this line his tomb may boast—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Who hated Cymri, hated Aron most!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But who with eastern hues and haughty brow,<span class='linenum'>8</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stern with dark beauty sits apart from all?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, couldst thou shun thy friends, Elidir!—thou<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Scorning all foes, before no foe shalt fall!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On thy wrong'd grave one hand appeasing lays<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The humble flower—oh, could it yield the bays!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Courts may have known than thou a readier tool,<span class='linenum'>9</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">States may have found than thine a subtler brain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But states shall honour many a formal fool,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And many a tawdry fawner courts may gain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere King or People in their need shall see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A soul so grand as that which fled with thee!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For thou wert more than true; thou wert a Truth!<span class='linenum'>10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Open as Truth, and yet as Truth profound;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy fault was genius—that eternal youth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose weeds but prove the richness of the ground—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dull men envied thee, and false men fear'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And where soar'd genius, there convention sneer'd.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 275]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, happy hadst thou fallen, foe to foe,<span class='linenum'>11</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The bright race run—the laurel o'er thy grave!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But hands perfidious strung the ambush bow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the friend's shaft the rankling torture gave—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The last proud wish its agony to hide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stricken deer to covert crept and died.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Next came the Warrior Three.<a name="FNanchor_2_124" id="FNanchor_2_124"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_124" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> Of glory's charms<span class='linenum'>12</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">(Glory, the bride of heroes) nobly vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dark Mona's Owaine<a name="FNanchor_3_125" id="FNanchor_3_125"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_125" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> shines with golden arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Roland of the Cymrian Charlemain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scath'd by the storm the holy chief survives,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Fame makes holy all its lightning rives.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Beside, with simplest garb and sober mien,<span class='linenum'>13</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Solid as iron, not yet wrought to steel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In his plain manhood Cornwall's chief<a name="FNanchor_4_126" id="FNanchor_4_126"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_126" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> is seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who (if wild tales some glimpse of truth reveal)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gave Northern standards to the Indian sun—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wreaths from palms that shaded Evian won.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo, he whose Fame outshines the Fabulous!<span class='linenum'>14</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sublime with eagle front, and that grey crown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which Age, the arch-priest, sets on laurell'd brows;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lo, Geraint, bending with a world's renown!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet those grey hairs <i>one</i> ribald scoffer found;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moon sways ocean and provokes the hound.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Next the three Chiefs of Eloquence;<a name="FNanchor_5_127" id="FNanchor_5_127"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_127" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> the kings<span class='linenum'>15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose hosts are thoughts, whose realm the human mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who out of words evoke the souls of things,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And shape the lofty drama of mankind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wit charms the fancy, wisdom guides the sense;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To make men nobler—<i>that</i> is Eloquence!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As from the Mount of Gold, auriferous flows<span class='linenum'>16</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Lydian wave, thy pomp of period shines,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Resplendent Drudwas—glittering as it goes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">High from the mount, but labouring through the mines,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thence the tides, enriching while they run,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glass every fruit that ripens to the sun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But, like the vigour of a Celtic stream,<span class='linenum'>17</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Eliwlod's rush of manly sense along,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fresh with the sparkles of a healthful beam,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And quick with impulse like a poet's song.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How listening crowds that knightly voice delights—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If from those crowds are banish'd all but knights!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 276]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The third, though young, well worthy of his place,<span class='linenum'>18</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Was Gawaine, courteous, blithe, and debonnair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arch Mercury's wit, with careless Cupid's face;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Frank as the sun, but searching as the air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who with bland parlance prefaced doughtiest blows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mildly arguing—arguing brain'd his foes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Next came the three—in mystic Triads hight<span class='linenum'>19</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"The <span class="smcap">Knights of Love</span>;"<a name="FNanchor_6_128" id="FNanchor_6_128"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_128" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> some type, the name conveys,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For where no lover, there methinks no knight;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All knights were lovers in King Arthur's days:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Caswallawn; Trystan of the lion rock;<a name="FNanchor_7_129" id="FNanchor_7_129"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_129" class="fnanchor">[7]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, leaning on his harp, calm Caradoc!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus class'd, distinct in peace,—let war dismay,<span class='linenum'>20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Straight in one bond the divers natures blend—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So varying tints in tranquil sunshine play,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But form one iris if the rains descend;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, fused in light against the clouds that lower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forbid the deluge while they own the shower!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On the bright group the Prophet rests his gaze,<span class='linenum'>21</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then the deep voice sonorous thrills aloud—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"In Carduel's vale the steers unheeded graze,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To jocund winds the yellowing corn is bow'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By hearths of mirth the waves of Isca flow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Heaven above smiles down on peace below.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But far looks forth the warder from the tower,<span class='linenum'>22</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And to the halls of Cymri's antique kings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A soul that sees the future in the hour<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The desolation of its burthen brings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hollow sounds earth beneath the clanging tread:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yon fields shall yield no harvest but the Dead!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And waves shall rush in crimson to the deep,<span class='linenum'>23</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Meteor Horse shall pale autumnal skies—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From <span class="smcap">Rauran's</span> lairs the joyous wolves shall leap—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From <span class="smcap">Eifle's</span> crags the screaming eagles rise—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea! while I speak, these halls the havoc nears!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Red sets the sun behind the storm of spears!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The Sons of Woden sound no tromp before<span class='linenum'>24</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Their march! No herald comes their war to tell!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No plea for slaughter, dress'd in clerkly lore,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Makes death seem justice! As the rain-clouds swell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When air is stillest, in <span class="smcap">Bâl Huan's</span> halls;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The herbage waves not till the tempest falls!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 277]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Of old ye know them; ye the elect remains<span class='linenum'>25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of perish'd races—rock-saved; anchoring here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ark of empire!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">For your latest fanes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For your last hearths, for all to freemen dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to God sacred; take the shield and brand!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Accurst each Cymrian who survives hisland!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Accursed each Cymrian who survives his land!"<span class='linenum'>26</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Echo'd deep tones, hollow as blasts escaped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Boreal caverns, and in every hand<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The hilts of swords to sainted croziers shaped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were grimly griped—as by that symbol sign<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hallowing the human wrath to war divine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Prophet mark'd the deep unclamorous vow<span class='linenum'>27</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the pent passion; and the morning light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of young Humanity flash'd o'er the brow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dark with that wisdom which, like Nature's night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Communes with stars and dreams; it flash'd and waned,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the vast front its awful hush regain'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Princes, I am but as a voice; be you<span class='linenum'>28</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As deeds! The wind comes through the hollow oak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stirs the green woods that it wanders through,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Now wafts the seeds, now wings the levin-stroke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now kindles, now destroys:—that Wind am I,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Homeless on earth; the mystery of the sky!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But when the wind in noiseless air hath sunk,<span class='linenum'>29</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Behold the sower tends and rears the seeds;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold the woodman shapes the fallen trunk;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The viewless voice hath waked the human deeds;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Born of the germs, flowers bloom and harvests spring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pine uprooted speeds the Ocean King.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Warriors, since absent (not from wanton lust<span class='linenum'>30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of errant emprize, but by Fate ordain'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For all lone labouring, worthy of his trust)<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He whose young lips in thirst of glory drain'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All that of arts Mavortian elder Rome<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Taught, to assail the foe, or guard the home;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Be ye his delegates, and oft with prayer<span class='linenum'>31</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bring angels round his wild and venturous way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As one great orb gives life and light to air,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So times there are when all a people's day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shines from a single life! This known, revere<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The exile; mourn not—let his soul be here.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 278]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yours then, high chiefs, the conduct of the war,<span class='linenum'>32</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">But heed this counsel (won or wrung from Fate),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strong rolls the tide when curb'd its channels are,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Strong flows a force that but defends a state;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Carduel's walls concentre Cymri's power,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And chain the Dragon to this charmèd tower.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"This night the moon should see the beacon brand<span class='linenum'>33</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Link fire to fire from Beli's Druid pile;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rock call on rock, till blazes all the land<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From Sabra's wave to Mona's parent isle!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let Fredom write in characters of fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Who climbs my throne ascends his funeral pyre!'"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Prophet ceased; and rose with stern accord<span class='linenum'>34</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The warrior senate. Sudden every shield<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leapt into lightning from the clashing sword;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And choral voices consentaneous peal'd—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Hail to our guests! the wine of war is red;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fire fight the banquet—steel prepare the bed!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While thus the peril threat'ning land and throne,<span class='linenum'>35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unharm'd, unheeding, dreaming goes the King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where from the brief Elysium, Acheron<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Awaits the victim whom its priest shall bring.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And where art thou, meek guardian of the brave?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though fails the eagle, still the dove may save!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When, lured by signs that seem'd his aid to implore,<span class='linenum'>36</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">From his good steed the lord of knighthood sprung,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">[And left it wistful by the dismal door,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Since the cragg'd roof too low descending hung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the great war-horse in its barb'd array;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And little dream'd he of the long delay,—]<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His path the dove nor favour'd nor forbade;<span class='linenum'>37</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Motionless, folding on sharp rocks its wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With its soft eyes it watch'd, resign'd and sad,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where fates, ordain'd for sorrow, led the King;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor did he miss (till earth regain'd the day)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The plumèd angel vanish'd from his way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then oft, in truth, and oft in blissful hours,<span class='linenum'>38</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Miss'd was that faithful guide through stormier life.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah common lot! how oft, mid summer flowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">We miss the soother of the winter strife;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How oft we mourn in Fortune's sunlit vale<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some silenced heart with which we shared the gale!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 279]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But absent <i>not</i> the dove, albeit unseen;<span class='linenum'>39</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">In some still foliage it had found its nest:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At night it hover'd where his steps had been,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pale through the moonbeams in the air of rest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the lull'd wave and shadowy banks it pass'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lingering where love with Ægle linger'd last.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when with chiller dawn resought the lone<span class='linenum'>40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And leafy gloom in which it shunn'd the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath those boughs you might have heard it moan,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Low-wailing to itself its plaintive lay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till with the sun rose all the songs that fill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Morn with delight; and <i>then</i> the dove was still.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But now, as towards the Temple of the Shades<span class='linenum'>41</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The King went heavily—a gleam of light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shot through the gloaming of the cedarn glades,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the dove glided to his breast: the sight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came like a smile from Heaven upon the King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his heart warm'd beneath the brooding wing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Strange was the thrill of joy, beyond belief,<span class='linenum'>42</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sent from the soft touch of those plumes of down!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He was not all deserted in his grief,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The brows of Fate relax'd their iron frown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his soul quicken'd to that glorious power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which fronts the future and subdues the hour;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The joy it brought, the dove refused to share;<span class='linenum'>43</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As it it felt the tempest in the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trembling, it nestled to its shelter there,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor lifted to the light its drooping eye.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not, as its wont, to guide it came; but brave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With him the ills from which it could not save.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now lost the lovelier features of the land,<span class='linenum'>44</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dull waves replace the fount, dark pines the bowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grey-streeted tombs, far stretch'd on either hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rear the dumb city of the Funeral Powers.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Massive and huge, behold the dome of dread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the stern Death-god frowns above the dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hewn from a rock, stand the great columns square,<span class='linenum'>45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With triglyphs wrought and ponderous pediment;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such as yet greet the musing wanderer, where,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Near the old Fane to which Etruria sent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her sovereign twelve, the thick-sown violet blooms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Castel d'Asso's vale of hero-tombs.<a name="FNanchor_8_130" id="FNanchor_8_130"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_130" class="fnanchor">[8]</a><br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 280]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Passing a bridge that spann'd the barrier wave,<span class='linenum'>46</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">They reach'd the Thebes-like porch;—the Augur here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">First entering, leaves the King. Within the nave<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Now swell the flutes (which went before the bier<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What time the funeral chaunt of Pagan Rome<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knell'd some throne-shatterer to his six-feet home).<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Jar back the portals—long, in measured line,<span class='linenum'>47</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">There stand within the mute Auruspices,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In each pale hand a torch; and near the shrine<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sit on still thrones, the guardian deities;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here <span class="smcap">Sethlans</span>,<a name="FNanchor_9_131" id="FNanchor_9_131"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_131" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> sovereign of life's fix'd domains—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There fatal <span class="smcap">Northia</span> with the iron chains.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Between the two the Death-god broods sublime;<span class='linenum'>48</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">On his pale brow the inexorable peace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which speaks of power beyond the shores of time;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Calm, not benign like the sweet gods of Greece,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm as the mystery which in Memphian skies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Froze life's warm current from a sphinx's eyes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With many a grausame shape unutterable,<span class='linenum'>49</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Limn'd were the cavernous sepulchral walls;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life-like they stalk'd, the Populace of Hell,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through the pale pomp of Acherontian halls;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Distinct as when the Trojan's living breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vex'd the wide silence in the wastes of death.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shown was the Progress of the guilty Soul<span class='linenum'>50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">From earth's warm threshold to the throne of doom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here the black genius to the dismal goal<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dragg'd the wan spectre from the unshelt'ring tomb;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While from the side it never more may warn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The better angel, sorrowing, fled forlorn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hideous with horrent looks and goading steel<span class='linenum'>51</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The fiend drives on the abject cowering ghost<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where (closed the eighth) sev'n yawning gates reveal<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The sev'nfold anguish that awaits the Lost;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By each the gryphon flaps his ravening wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dire Chimæra whets her hungry stings.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here, ev'n that God, of all the kindliest one,<span class='linenum'>52</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Life of all life (in Tusca's later creed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blent with the orient worship of the Sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or His who loves the madding nymphs to lead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the Fork'd Hill), abjures his genial smile,<a name="FNanchor_10_132" id="FNanchor_10_132"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_132" class="fnanchor">[10]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, scowls transform'd, the Typhon of the Nile.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 281]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Closed the eighth gate—for <i>there</i>, the happy dwell!<span class='linenum'>53</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">No glimpse of joy beyond makes horror less.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But that closed gate upon the exiled hell<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sets hell's last seal of misery—Hopelessness!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nathless, despite the Dæmon's chasing thong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, as if hoping still, the hopeless throng.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Before the northern knight each nightmare dream<span class='linenum'>54</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of Theban soothsayer or Chaldean mage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus kindling in the torches' breathless beam,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As if incarnate with resistless rage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hell's true malice, starts from wall to wall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He signs the cross, and looks unmoved on all.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Before the inmost Penetralian doors,<span class='linenum'>55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Holding a cypress-branch, the Augur stands;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The King's firm foot strides echoless the floors,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And with dull groan the temple veil expands;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slow-moving on the brandish'd torches shine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Red o'er the wave that yawns behind the shrine;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Red o'er the wave, as, under vaulted rock,<span class='linenum'>56</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dark as Cocytus, the false smoothness flows;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But where the light fades—there is heard the shock<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As hurrying down the headlong torrent goes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With mocking oars, a raft sways, moor'd beside—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What keel save Charon's ploughs that dismal tide?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Proud Arthur smiled upon the guileful host,<span class='linenum'>57</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As welcome danger roused him and restored.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Friend," quoth the King, "methinks your streams might boast<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A gentler margin and a fairer ford!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"As birth to man," replied the priest, "the cave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O guest, to thee! as death to man the wave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Doth it appal thee? thou canst yet return!<span class='linenum'>58</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">There love, there sunny life;—and yonder"—"Fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cymri, and God!" said Arthur. "Paynim, learn<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Death has two victors, deathless both—<small>THE NAME</small>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The soul</span>; to each a realm eternal given,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This rules the earth, and that achieves the heaven."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He said, and seized a torch with scornful hand;<span class='linenum'>59</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The frail raft rock'd to his descending tread;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the prow he fix'd the glowing brand,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the raft drifted down the waves of dread.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So with his fortunes went confiding forth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The knightly Cæsar of the Christian North.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 282]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then, from its shelter on his breast, the dove<span class='linenum'>60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rose, and sail'd slow before with doubtful wing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dun mists rolling round the vaults above,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Below, the gulf with torch-fires crimsoning;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wan through the glare, or white amidst the gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glanced Heaven's mute daughter with the silver plume.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Meanwhile to Ægle: from the happier trance,<span class='linenum'>61</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And from the stun of the first human ill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Labouring returns her soul!—As lightnings glance<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'er battle-fields, with sated slaughter still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fitful reason flickering comes and goes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er the past struggle—o'er the blank repose.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At length with one long, eager, searching look,<span class='linenum'>62</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">She gazed around, and all the living space<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With one great loss seem'd lifeless!—then she strook<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her clench'd hand on her heart; and o'er her face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Settled ineffable that icy gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which only falls when hope abandons doom.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why breaks the smile—why waves the exulting hand?<span class='linenum'>63</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Why to the threshold moves that step serene?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The brow superb awes back the maiden band,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the roused woman towers sublime the queen.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She pass'd the isle—and beam'd upon the crowd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright as the May-moon when it bursts the cloud.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Brief and imperious rings her question; quick<span class='linenum'>64</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">A hundred hands point, answering, to the fane.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As on she sweeps, behind her, fast and thick,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gather the groups far following in her train.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behind some bird unknown, of glorious dyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So swarm the meaner people of the skies.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, the great force, that sleeps in woman's heart!<span class='linenum'>65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">She will, at least, behold that form once more;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See its last vestige from her world depart,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And mark the spot to haunt and wander o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rased in that impulse of the human breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the cold lessons on its leaves impress'd;—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Snapp'd in the strength of the divine desire<span class='linenum'>66</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">All the vain swathes with which convention thralls;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nature breaks forth, and at her breath of fire<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The elaborate snow-pile's molten temple falls;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And meaner priestcrafts fly before that Truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose name is Passion, and whose altar, Youth!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 283]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Unknown the egress, dreamless of the snare,<span class='linenum'>67</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sole aim to look the last on the adored:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She gains the fane—she treads the aisle—and there<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The deathlights guide her to the bridal lord;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On, through pale groups around the yawning cave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She comes—and looks upon the livid wave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She comes—she sees afar amidst the dark,<span class='linenum'>68</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That fair, serene, undaunted, godlike brow—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sees on the lurid deep the lonely bark<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Drift through the circling horror;—sees, and now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On light's far verge it hovers, wanes, and fades,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As roars the hungering cataract up the shades.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Voiceless she look'd, and voiceless look'd and smiled<span class='linenum'>69</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">On her the priest: strange though the marvel seem,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The old man, childless, loved her more than child;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">She link'd each thought—she colour'd every dream;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Love, the varying Genius, guides, in turn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soft to pity, to revenge the stern.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not his the sympathy which soothes the woe,<span class='linenum'>70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">But that which, wrathful, feels, and shares, the wrong.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He in the faithless view'd alone the foe;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The weak he righted when he smote the strong:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In one dread crime a twofold virtue seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here saved the land, and there avenged the queen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So through the hush his hissing murmur stole—<span class='linenum'>71</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Ay, Ægle, blossom on the stem of kings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not to fresh altars glides the perjurer's soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not to new maids the vows still thine he brings!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No rival mocks thee from the bloodless shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dead, at least, are faithful evermore."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As when around the demigod of love,<span class='linenum'>72</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whom men Prometheus call, relentless fell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The flashing fires of Zeus, and Heaven above<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Open'd in flame, in flame expanded Hell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While gazing dauntless on the Thunderer's frown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sunk from the Earth, the Earth's Light-bringer down;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So, while both worlds before its sight lay bare,<span class='linenum'>73</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And o'er one ruin burst the lightning shook,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love, the Arch-Titan, in sublime despair,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Faced the rent Hades from the shatter'd rock;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And saw in Heaven, the future Heaven foreshown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Love shall reign where Force usurps the throne.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 284]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Woman heard, and gathering majesty<span class='linenum'>74</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Beam'd on her front, and crown'd it with command;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pale priest shrunk before her tranquil eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the light touch of her untrembling hand—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Enjoy," she said, with voice as clear as low,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Enjoy thy hate; where love survives I go.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sweetly thou smilest—sweetly, gentle Death,<span class='linenum'>75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Kinder than life;—that severs, thou unitest!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To realms He spoke of goes this living breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A living soul, wherever space is brightest—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair Love—I trusted, now I claim, thy troth!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blest be thy couch, for it hath room for both!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She said, and from each hand that would restrain<span class='linenum'>76</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Broke, in the strength of her sublime despair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift as the meteor on the northern main<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fades from the ice-lock'd sea-kings' livid stare—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She sprang; the robe a sudden glimmer gave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And o'er the vision swept the closing wave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Return, wild Song, to Lancelot! Behold<span class='linenum'>77</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Our Lord's lone house beside the placid mere!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There pipes the careless shepherd to his fold,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or from the crags the shy capellæ peer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the green rents of many a hanging brake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which sends its quivering shadow to the lake.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And by the pastoral margins mournfully<span class='linenum'>78</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wanders from dawn to eve the earnest knight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ever to the ring he turns his eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And ever does the ring perplex the sight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fairy hand that knew no rest before,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rests now as fix'd as if its task were o'er.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Towards the far head of the calm water turn'd<span class='linenum'>79</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The unmoving finger; yet, when gain'd the place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No path for human foot the knight discern'd—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Abrupt and huge, the rocks enclosed the space.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His scath'd front veil'd in everlasting snows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High above eagles Alpine Atlas rose.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No cleft! save that a giant torrent clove,<span class='linenum'>80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">For its fierce hurry to the lake it fed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Check'd for a while in chasms conceal'd above,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thence all its pomp the dazzling horror spread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from the beetling ridges, smooth and sheer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flash'd in one mass, down-roaring to the mere.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 285]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Still to that spot the fairy hand inclined,<span class='linenum'>81</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And daily there with wistful searching eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wander'd the knight; each day no path to find.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What step can scale that ladder to the skies?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What portals yawn in those relentless walls?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still the hand points where still the cataract falls.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One noon, as thus he gazed in stern despair<span class='linenum'>82</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">On rock and torrent;—from the tortured spray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And through the mists, into cerulean air,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A dove descending rush'd its arrowy way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift as a falling star, which, falling, brings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Woe on the helmet-crown of Dorian kings!<a name="FNanchor_11_134" id="FNanchor_11_134"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_134" class="fnanchor">[11]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Straight to the wanderer's hand bore down the bird,<span class='linenum'>83</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With plumage crisp'd with fear, and piercing plaint;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft had he heedful, in his wanderings, heard<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the great Wrong-Redresser, whom a saint<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the dove's guise directed—"Hail," he cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I greet the token—I accept the guide!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And sudden as he spoke, arose the wing,<span class='linenum'>84</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">(Warily veering towards the dexter flank<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the huge chasm, through which leapt thundering<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From Nature's heart her savage); on the bank<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of that fell stream, in root, and jag, and stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It traced the ladder to the glacier's throne.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Slow sail'd the dove, and paused, and look'd behind,<span class='linenum'>85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As labouring after, crag on crag, the knight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Close on the deafening roar, and whirling wind<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lash'd from the surges), through the vaporous night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the grey mists, loom'd up the howling wild;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strong in the charm the fairy gave the child.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With bleeding hands, that leave a moment's red<span class='linenum'>86</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">On stone and stem wash'd by the mighty spray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He gains at length the inter-alpine bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose lock'd Charybdis checks the torrent's way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And forms a basin o'er abysmal caves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the grim respite of the headlong waves.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Torrents below—the torrents still above!<span class='linenum'>87</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Above less awful—as precipitous peak<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And splinter'd ledge, and many a curve and cove<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the compress'd, indented margins, break<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That crushing sense of power, in which we see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What, without Nature's God, would Nature be!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 286]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Before him stretch'd the maëlstrom of the abyss;<span class='linenum'>88</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And, in the central torrent, giant pines,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Uprooted from the bordering wilderness<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By some gone winter's blast—in flashing lines<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shot through the whirl—then, pluck'd to the profound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vanish'd and rose, swift eddying round and round.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But on the marge as on the wave thou art,<span class='linenum'>89</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">O conquering Death!—what human, hueless face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rests pillow'd on a silenced human heart?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What arm still clasps in more than love's embrace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That form for which yon vulture flaps its wing?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kneel, Lancelot, kneel, thine eyes behold thy King!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alas! in vain—still in the Death-god's cave,<span class='linenum'>90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ere yet the torrent snatch'd the hurrying stream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside a crag grey-shimmering from the wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And near the brink by which the pallid beam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Show'd one pent path along the rugged verge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By which to leave the raft and 'scape the surge,—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alas! in vain, that haven to the ark<span class='linenum'>91</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The dove had given!—just won the refuge-place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, thrice emerging from the sheeted dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">White glanced a robe, and livid rose a face!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He saw, he sprang, he near'd, he grasp'd the vest!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And <i>both</i> the torrent grappled to its breast.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet in the immense and superhuman force,<span class='linenum'>92</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Love and despair bestow upon the bold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The strong man battled with the Titan's course,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Grip'd rock and layer, and ledge, with snatching hold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bruised, bleeding, broken, onwards, downwards driven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No wave his treasure from his grasp had riven<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Saved, saved—at last before his reeling eyes<span class='linenum'>93</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">(Into the pool, that check'd the Fury, hurl'd)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shone, as he rose, through all the hurtling skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The dove's white wing; and ere the maëlstrom whirl'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The madden'd waters to the central shock,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Show'd the gnarl'd roots of the redeeming rock.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Less sense than instinct caught the wing that shone,<span class='linenum'>94</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The crags that shelter'd;—the wild billows gave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The failing limbs a force no more their own,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And as he turn'd and sunk, the swerving wave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swoop'd round, dash'd on, and to the isthmus sped,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still breast to breast, the living and the dead!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 287]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Long vain were Lancelot's cares and knightly skill,<span class='linenum'>95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ere, through slow veins congeal'd, pulsed back the blood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The very wounds, the valour of the will,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The peaks that broke the fury of the flood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had help'd to save; alas, <i>the strong</i> to save!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Strength to toil, till Love re-opes the grave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Twice down the dismal path (the dove his guide)<span class='linenum'>96</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The fairy nursling bore his helpless load;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A chamois-hunter, in the vale descried,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Aided the convoy to the house of God.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dark—wroth—convulsed, the earth-bound spirit lay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm from the bier beside it, smiled the clay!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Song—for Lydian elegy too stern,<span class='linenum'>97</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Song, cradled in the Celt's rough battle-shield;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rather from thee should man, the soldier, learn<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To hide the wounds—heroic while conceal'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From foes without the mean the palm may win,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What tries the noble is the war within!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let the King's woe its muse in Silence claim,<span class='linenum'>98</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">When sense return'd, and solitary life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sate in the Shadow!—shade or sun the same,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Toil hath brief respite; man is made for strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Woman for rest!—rest, bright with dreams, is given,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Child of the heathen, in the Christian heaven!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And to the Christian prince's plighted bride,<span class='linenum'>99</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The simple monks the Christian's grave accord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With lifted cross and swinging censer, glide<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To passing bells—the hermits of the Lord;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And at that hour, in her own native vale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her own soft race their mystic loss bewail.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Methinks I see the Tuscan Genius yet,<span class='linenum'>100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lured, lingering by the clay it loved so well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And listening to the two-fold dirge that met<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In upper air;—here Nazarene anthems swell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Triumphal pæans!—there, the Alps behind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Etrurian Næniæ,<a name="FNanchor_12_135" id="FNanchor_12_135"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_135" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> load the lagging wind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pauses the startled genius to compare<span class='linenum'>101</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The notes that mourn the life, at best so brief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With those that welcome to empyreal air<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The bright escaper from a world of grief?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Marvelling what creed, beyond the happy vale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can teach the soul the loathèd Styx to hail!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 288]</span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>THE ETRURIAN NÆNIÆ.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where art thou, pale and melancholy ghost?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">No funeral rites appease thy tombless clay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unburied, glidest thou by the dismal coast,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">O exile from the day?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There, where the voice of love is heard no more,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where the dull wave moans back the eternal wail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dost thou recall the summer suns of yore,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Thine own melodious vale?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy Lares stand on thy deserted floors,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And miss their last sweet daughter's holy face;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What hand shall wreathe with flowers the threshold doors?<br /></span> +<span class="i12">What child renew the race?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thine are the nuptials of the dreary shades,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of all thy groves what rests?—the cypress tree!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As from the air a strain of music fades,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Dark silence buries thee!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet no, lost child of more than mortal sires,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy stranger bridegroom bears thee to his home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the stars light the Æsars' nuptial fires<br /></span> +<span class="i12">In Tina's azure dome;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From the fierce wave the god's celestial wing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rapt thee aloft along the yielding air;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With amaranths fresh from heaven's eternal spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Bright Cupra<a name="FNanchor_13_136" id="FNanchor_13_136"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_136" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> braids thy hair,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, in those halls for us thou wilt not mourn,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Far are the Æsars' joys from human woe:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But not the less forsaken and forlorn<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Those thou hast left below!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Never, oh never more, shall we behold thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The last spark dies upon the sacred hearth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Art thou less lost, though heavenly arms enfold thee—<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Art thou less lost to earth?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Slow swells the sorrowing Næniæ's chanted strain:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Time, with slow flutes, our leaden footsteps keep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sad earth, whate'er the happier heaven may gain,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Hath but a loss to weep.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>THE CHRISTIAN FUNERAL HYMN</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sing we Halleluiah—singing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Halleluiah to the Three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where, vain Death, oh, where thy stinging?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where, O Grave, thy victory?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As a sun a soul hath risen,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rising from a stormy main;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When a captive breaks the prison,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who but slaves would mourn the chain<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 289]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fear for age subdued by trial,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Heavy with the years of sin:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the sunlight leaves the dial,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the solemn shades begin;—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Not</i> for youth!—although the bosom<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With a sharper grief be wrung;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the May wind strews the blossom,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the angel takes the young!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Saved from sins, while yet forgiven;—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the joys that lead astray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the earth at war with heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Soar, O happy soul, away!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From the human love that fadeth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the falsehood or the tomb;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the cloud that darkly shadeth;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the canker in the bloom;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou hast pass'd to suns unsetting,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where the rainbow spans the flood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where no moth the garb is fretting,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where no worm is in the bud.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let the arrow leave the quiver,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It was fashioned but to soar;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let the wave pass from the river,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Into ocean evermore!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mindful yet of mortal feeling,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In thy fresh immortal birth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the Virgin mother kneeling,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Plead for those beloved on earth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whisper them thou hast forsaken,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Woe but borders unbelief!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comfort smiles in faith unshaken:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shall thy glory be their grief?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let one ray on them descending,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the prophet Future stream;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bliss is daylight never ending,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sorrow but a passing dream.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O'er the grave in far communion,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With the choral Seraphim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chaunt in notes that hail reunion,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Chaunt the Christian's funeral hymn;—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Singing Halleluiah—singing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Halleluiah to the Three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where, vain Death, oh where thy stinging?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where, O Grave, thy victory?<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 290]</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So rests the child of creeds before the Greek's,<span class='linenum'>102</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">In our Lord's holy ground—between the walls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the grey convent and the verdant creeks<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the sequester'd mere; afar the falls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the fierce torrent from her native vale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vex the calm wave, and groan upon the gale.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Survives that remnant of old races still,<span class='linenum'>103</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">In its strange haven from the surge of Time?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There yet do Camsee's songs at sunset thrill,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">At the same hour when here, the vesper chime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hymns the sweet Mother? Ah, can granite gate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cataract, and Alp, exclude the steps of Fate?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">World-wearied man, thou knowest not on the earth<span class='linenum'>104</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">What regions lie beyond, yet near, thy ken!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But couldst thou find them, where would be the worth?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Life but repeats its triple tale to men.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Three truths unite the children of the sod—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All love—all suffer—and all feel a God!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By Ægle's grave the royal mourner sate,<span class='linenum'>105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And from his bended eyes the veiling hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shut out the setting sun; thus, desolate,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He sate, with Memory in her spirit-land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And took no heed of Lancelot's soothing words,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vain to the oak, bolt-shatter'd, sing the birds!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Vain is their promise of returning spring!<span class='linenum'>106</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Spring may give leaves, can spring reclose the core?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comfort not sorrow—sorrow's self must bring<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Its own stern cure!—All wisdom's holiest lore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The "<small>KNOW THYSELF</small>" descends from heaven in tears;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cloud must break before the horizon clears.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The dove forsook not:—now its poisèd wing,<span class='linenum'>107</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bathed in the sunset, rested o'er the lake;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now brooded o'er the grave beside the King;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Now with hush'd plumes, as if it fear'd to wake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sleep, less serene than Death's, it sought his breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And o'er the heart of misery claim'd its nest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Night falls—the moon is at her full;—the mere<span class='linenum'>108</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shines with the sheen pellucid; not a breeze!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And through the hush'd and argent atmosphere<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sharp rise the summits of the breathless trees.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Lancelot saw, all indistinct and pale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glide o'er the liquid glass a mistlike sail.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 291]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now, first from Arthur's dreams of fever gain'd,<span class='linenum'>109</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And since (for grief unlocks the secret heart)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Briefly confess'd, the triple toil ordain'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The knightly brother knew;—so with a start<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He strain'd the eyes, to which a fairy gave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vision of fairy forms, along the wave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then in his own the King's cold hand he took,<span class='linenum'>110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And spoke—"Arise, thy mission calls thee now!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let the dead rest—still lives thy country!—look,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And nerve thy knighthood to redeem its vow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is the lake whose waves the falchion hide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yon the bark that becks thee to the tide!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The mourner listless rose, and look'd abroad,<span class='linenum'>111</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor saw the sail;—though nearer, clearer gliding,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Fairy nurseling, by the vapoury shroud<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And vapoury helm, beheld a phantom guiding.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Not this," replied the King, "the lake decreed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where points thy hand, but floats a broken reed!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Where are the dangers on that placid tide?<span class='linenum'>112</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where are the fiends that guard the enchanted boon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold, where rests the pilgrim's plumèd guide<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On the cold grave—beneath the quiet moon!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So night gives rest to grief—with labouring day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let the dove lead, and life resume, the way!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then answer'd Lancelot—for he was wise<span class='linenum'>113</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">In each mysterious Druid parable:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Oft in the things most simple to our eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The real genii of our doom may dwell—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The enchanter spoke of trials to befal;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the lone heart has trials worse than all!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Weird triads tell us that our nature knows<span class='linenum'>114</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">In its own cells the demons it should brave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And oft the calm of after glory flows<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Clear round the marge of early passion's grave!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the dove came ere Lancelot ceased to speak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To its lord's hand—a leaflet in its beak,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pluck'd from the grave! Then Arthur's labouring thought<span class='linenum'>115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Recall'd the prophet words—and doubt was o'er;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He knew the lake that hid the boon he sought<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Both by the grave, and by the herb it bore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He took the bitter treasure from the dove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tasted Knowledge at the grave of Love,<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 292]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And straight the film fell from his heavy eyes;<span class='linenum'>116</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And moor'd beside the marge, he saw the bark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by the sails that swell'd in windless skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The phantom Lady in the robes of dark.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er moonlit tracks she stretch'd the shadowy hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lo, beneath the waters bloom'd the land!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Forests of emerald verdure spread below,<span class='linenum'>117</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through which proud columns glisten far and wide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On to the bark the mourner's footsteps go;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The pale King stands by the pale phantom's side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Lancelot sprang—but sudden from his reach<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glanced the wan skiff, and left him on the beach.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Chain'd to the earth by spells, more strong than love,<span class='linenum'>118</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">He saw the pinnace steal its noiseless way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on the mast there sate the steadfast dove,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With white plume shining in the steadfast ray—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slow from the sight the airy vessel glides,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till Heaven alone is mirror'd on the tides.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 293]</span></p> +<h2>BOOK VI.</h2> + +<h4>ARGUMENT.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Description of the Cymrian fire-beacons—Dialogue between Gawaine and +Caradoc—The raven—Merlin announces to Gawaine that the bird selects +him for the aid of the King—The knight's pious scruples—He yields reluctantly, +and receives the raven as his guide—His pathetic farewell to Caradoc—He +confers with Henricus on the propriety of exorcising the raven—Character +of Henricus—The knight sets out on his adventures—The company he +meets, and the obligation he incurs—The bride and the sword—The bride's +choice and the hound's fidelity—Sir Gawaine lies down to sleep under the +fairy's oak—What there befalls him—The fairy banquet—The temptation of +Sir Gawaine—The rebuke of the fairies—Sir Gawaine, much displeased with +the raven, resumes his journey—His adventure with the Vikings, and how +he comforts himself in his captivity.</p></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On the bare summit of the loftiest peak—<span class='linenum'>1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Crowning the hills round Cymri's Iscan home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rose the grey temple of the Faith Antique,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Before whose priests had paused the march of Rome,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the Dark Isle reveal'd its drear abodes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the last Hades of Cimmerian gods;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While dauntless Druids, by their shrines profaned,<span class='linenum'>2</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stretch'd o'er the steel-clad hush, their swordless hands,<a name="FNanchor_1_137" id="FNanchor_1_137"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_137" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dire Religion, horror-breathing, chain'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The frozen eagles,—till the shuddering bands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shamed into slaughter, broke the ghastly spell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, lost in reeks of carnage, sunk the hell<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quiver'd on column-shafts the poisèd rock,<span class='linenum'>3</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As if a breeze could shake the ruin down;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But storm on storm had sent its thunder-shock,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor reft the temple of its mystic crown—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So awe of Power Divine on human breasts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vibrates for ever, and for ever rests.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Within the fane awaits a giant pyre,<span class='linenum'>4</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Around the pyre assembled warriors stand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A pause of prayer;—and suddenly the fire<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flings its broad banner reddening o'er the land.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shoot the fierce sparks and groan the crackling pines,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Toss'd on the Wave of Shields the glory shines.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 294]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo, from dark night flash Carduel's domes of gold,<span class='linenum'>5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Glow the jagg'd rampires like a belt of light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to the stars springs up the dragon-hold,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With one lone image on the lonely height—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er those who saw a thrilling silence fell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, the still Prophet watch'd o'er Carduel!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Forth on their mission rush'd the wings of flame;<span class='linenum'>6</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hill after hill the land's grey warders rose;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">First to the Mount of Bards the splendour came,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wreath'd with large halo Trigarn's stern repose;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On, post by post, the fiery courier rode,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blood-red Edeirnion's dells of verdure glow'd;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Uprose the hardy men of Merioneth,<span class='linenum'>7</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">When, o'er the dismal strata parch'd and bleak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like some revived volcano's lurid breath<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sprang the fierce fire-jet from the herbless peak;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flash'd down on meeting streams the Basalt walls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In molten flame Rhaiadyr's thunder falls.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy Faban Mount, Caernarvon, seized the sign,<span class='linenum'>8</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And pass'd the watchword to the Fairies' Hill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All Mona blazed—as if the isle divine<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To Bel, the sun-god, drest her altars still;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Menai reflects the prophet hues, and far<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To twofold ocean knells the coming war.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then wheeling round, the lurid herald swept<span class='linenum'>9</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To quench the stars yet struggling with the glare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blithe to his task, resplendent Golcun leapt—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The bearded giant rose on Moel-y-Gaer—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rose his six giant brothers,—Eifle rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And great Eryri lit his chasms of snows.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So one vast altar was that father-land!<span class='linenum'>10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">But nobler altars flash'd in souls of men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sublimer than the mountain-tops, the brand<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Found pyres in every lowliest hamlet glen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon on the rocks shall die the grosser fire—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Souls lit to freedom burn till suns expire.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Slowly the chiefs desert the blazing fane,<span class='linenum'>11</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">(Sure of steel-harvests from the dragon seed)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Descend the mountain and the walls regain;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As suns to systems, there to each decreed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His glorious task,—to marshal star on star,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And weave with fate the harmonious pomp of war.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 295]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Last of the noble conclave, linger'd two;<span class='linenum'>12</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gawaine the mirthful, Caradoc the mild,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, as the watchfires thicken'd on their view.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">War's fearless playmate raised his hand and smiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pointing to splendours, linking rock to rock;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And while he smiled—sigh'd earnest Caradoc.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now by my head—(an empty oath and light!)<span class='linenum'>13</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">No taller tapers ever lit to rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rome's stately Cæsar;—sigh'st thou, at the sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For cost o'er-lavish, when so mean the guest?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Was it for this the gentle Saviour died?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is Cain so glorious?" Caradoc replied.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Permit, Sir Bard, an argument on that,"<span class='linenum'>14</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">True to his fame, said golden-tongued Gawaine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The hawk may save his fledglings from the cat,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor yet deserve comparisons with Cain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Abel's fate, to hands unskill'd, proclaims<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The use of practice in gymnastic games.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Woes that have been are wisdom's lesson-books—<span class='linenum'>15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">From Abel's death, the men of peace should learn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To add an inch of iron to their crooks<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And strike, when struck, a little in return—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had Abel known his quarterstaff, I wot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those Saxon Ap-Cains ne'er had been begot!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">More had he said, but a strange, grating note,<span class='linenum'>16</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Half laugh—half croak, was here discordant heard;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An <i>ave</i> rose—but died within his throat,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As close before him perch'd the enchanter's bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With head aslant, and glittering eye askew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It near'd the knight—the knight in haste withdrew.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"All saints defend me, and excuse a jest!"<span class='linenum'>17</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mutter'd Sir Gawaine—"bird or fiend avaunt:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, holy Abel, let this matter rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I do repent me of my foolish taunt!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With that the cross upon his sword he kist,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stared aghast—the bird was on his wrist.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hem—<i>vade Satanas!—discede! retro</i>,"<span class='linenum'>18</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The raven croak'd, and fix'd himself afresh;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"<i>Avis damnata!—salus sit in Petro</i>,"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ten pointed claws here fasten'd on his flesh;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The knight, sore smarting, shook his arm—the bird<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peck'd in reproach, and kept its perch unstirr'd.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 296]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quoth Caradoc—whose time had come to smile,<span class='linenum'>19</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And smile he did in grave and placid wise—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Let not thine evil thoughts, my friend, defile<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The harmless wing descended from the skies."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Skies!!!" said the knight—"black imps from skies descend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With claws like these!—the world is at an end!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now shame, Gawaine, O knight of little heart,<span class='linenum'>20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">How, if a small and inoffensive raven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dismay thee thus, couldst thou have track'd the chart<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By which Æneas won his Alban-haven?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Harpies, Scylla, Cerberus, reflect—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And undevour'd—rejoice to be but peckt."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"True," said a voice behind them,—"gentle bard,<span class='linenum'>21</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">In life as verse, the art is—to compare."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gawaine turn'd short, gazed keenly, and breathed hard<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As on the dark-robed magian stream'd the glare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the huge watch-fire—"Prophet," quoth Gawaine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My friend scorns pecking—let him try the pain!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Please to call back this—offspring of the skies!<span class='linenum'>22</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unworthy I to be his earthly rest!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Methought," said Merlin, "that thy King's emprize<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had found in thine a less reluctant breast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again is friendship granted to his side—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee the bird summons, be the bird thy guide."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dumb stared the knight—stared first upon the seer,<span class='linenum'>23</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then on the raven,—who, demure and sly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turn'd on his master a respectful ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And on Gawaine a magisterial eye.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"What hath a king with ravens, seer, to do?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Odin, the king of half the world, had two.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Peace—if thy friendship answer to its boast,<span class='linenum'>24</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Arm, take thy steed and with the dawn depart—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bird will lead thee to the ocean coast;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Strange are thy trials, stalwart be thy heart."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Seer," quoth Gawaine, "my heart I hope is tough<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor needs a prop from this portentous chough.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"You know the proverb—'birds of the same feather,'<span class='linenum'>25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">A proverb much enforced in penal laws,<a name="FNanchor_2_138" id="FNanchor_2_138"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_138" class="fnanchor">[2]</a>—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In certain quarters were we seen together<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It might, I fear, suffice to damn my cause:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You cite examples apt and edifying—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Odin kept ravens!—well, and Odin's frying!"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 297]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The enchanter smiled, in pity or in scorn;<span class='linenum'>26</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The smile was sad, but lofty, calm, and cold—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The straws," he said, "on passing winds upborne<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dismay the courser—is the man more bold?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dismiss thy terrors, go thy ways, my son,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To do thy duty is the fiend to shun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Not for thy sake the bird is given to thee,<span class='linenum'>27</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">But for thy King's."—"Enough," replied the knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bow'd his head. The bird rose jocundly,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Spread its dark wing and rested in the light—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Sir Bard," to Caradoc the chosen said<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the close whisper of a knight well bred:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Vow'd to my King—come man, come fiend, I go,<span class='linenum'>28</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">But ne'er expect to see thy friend again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That bird carnivorous hath designs I know<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Most Anthropophagous on doom'd Gawaine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I leave you all the goods that most I prize—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Three steeds, six hawks, four gre-hounds, two blue eyes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Beat back the Saxons—beat them well, my friend,<span class='linenum'>29</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And when they're beaten, and your hands at leisure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Set to your harp a ditty on my end—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The most appropriate were the shortest measure:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forewarn'd by me all light discourses shun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mostly—jests on Adam's second son."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He said, and wended down the glowing hill.<span class='linenum'>30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Long watch'd the minstrel with a wistful gaze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then join'd the musing seer—and both were still,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still 'mid the ruins—girded with the rays:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twin heirs of light and lords of time, grey Truth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ne'er is young—and Song the only youth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At dawn Sir Gawaine through the postern stole,<span class='linenum'>31</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">But first he sought one reverend friend—a bishop,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By him assoil'd and shrived, he felt his soul<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Too clean for cooks that fry for fiends to dish up;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then suggested, lighter and elater,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To cross the raven with some holy water.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Henricus—so the prelate sign'd his name—<span class='linenum'>32</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Was lord high chancellor in things religious;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With him church militant in truth became<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(<i>Nam cedant arma togæ</i>) church litigious;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He kept his deacons notably in awe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By flowers epistolar perfumed with law.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 298]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No man more stern, more <i>fortiter in re</i>,<span class='linenum'>33</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">No man more mild, more <i>suaviter in modo</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When knots grew tough, it was sublime to see<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Such polish'd shears go clippingly <i>in nodo</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hand so supple, pliant, glib, and quick,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ne'er smooth'd a band, nor burn'd a heretic.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He seem'd to turn to you his willing cheek,<span class='linenum'>34</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And beg you not to smite too hard the other;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He seized his victims with a smile so meek,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And wept so fondly o'er his erring brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No wolf more righteous on a lamb could sup,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You vex'd his stream—he grieved—and eat you up.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Son," said Henricus, "what you now propose<span class='linenum'>35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is wise and pious—fit for a beginning;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But sinful things, I fear me, but disclose,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In sin, perverted appetite for sinning;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hopeless to cure—we only can detect it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">First cross the bird and then (he groan'd) <i>dissect it</i>!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Till now, the raven perch'd on Gawaine's chair<span class='linenum'>36</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had seem'd indulging in a placid doze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if he heard, he seem'd no jot to care<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For threats of sprinkling his demoniac clothes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when the priest the closing words let drop<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He hopp'd away as fast as he could hop.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gain'd a safe corner, on a pile of tomes,<span class='linenum'>37</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tracts against Arius—bulls against Pelagius,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The church of Cymri's controverse with Rome's—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Those fierce materials seem'd to be contagious,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For there, with open beak and glowering eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bird seem'd croaking forth, "Dissect me! try!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This sight, perchance, the prelate's pious plan<span class='linenum'>38</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Relax'd; he gazed, recoil'd, and faltering said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"'Tis clear the monster is the foe of man,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His beak how pointed! and his eyes how red!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Demons are spirits;—spirits, on reflexion,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are forms phantasmal, that defy dissection."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Truly," sigh'd Gawaine, "but the holy water!"<span class='linenum'>39</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"No," cried the Prelate, "ineffective here.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Try, but not now, a simple <i>noster-pater</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or chaunt a hymn. I dare not interfere;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Act for yourself—and say your catechism;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were I to meddle, it would cause a schism."<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 299]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A schism!"—"The church, though always in the right,<span class='linenum'>40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Holds two opinions, both extremely able;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This makes the rubric rest on gowns of white,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That makes the church itself depend on sable;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were I to exorcise that raven-back<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twould favour white, and raise the deuce in black.<a name="FNanchor_3_139" id="FNanchor_3_139"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_139" class="fnanchor">[3]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Depart my son—at once, depart, I pray,<span class='linenum'>41</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pay up your dues, and keep your mind at ease,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And call that creature—no, the other way—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When fairly out, a <i>credo</i>, if you please;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go,—<i>pax vobiscum</i>;—shut the door I beg,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stay;—On Friday, flogging,—with an egg!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out went the knight, more puzzled than before;<span class='linenum'>42</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And out, unsprinkled, flew the Stygian bird;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bishop rose, and doubly lock'd the door;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His pen he mended, and his fire he stirr'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then solved that problem—"Pons Diaconorum,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">White equals black, plus x y botherorum.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So through the postern stole the troubled knight;<span class='linenum'>43</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still as he rode, from forest, mount, and vale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rung lively horns, and in the morning light<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flash'd the sheen banderoll, and the pomp of mail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The welcome guests of War's blithe festival,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keen for the feast, and summon'd to the hall.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Curt answer gave the knight to greeting gay,<span class='linenum'>44</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And none to taunt from scurril churl unkind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft asking, "if he did mistake the way?"—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or hinting, "war was what he left behind;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As noon came on, such sights and comments cease,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lone through the pastures rides the knight in peace.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Grave as a funeral mourner rode Gawaine—<span class='linenum'>45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The bird went first in most indecent glee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now lost to sight, now gamb'ling back again—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Now munch'd a beetle, and now chaced a bee—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now pluck'd the wool from meditative lamb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now pick'd a quarrel with a lusty ram.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sharp through his visor, Gawaine watch'd the thing,<span class='linenum'>46</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With dire misgivings at that impish mirth:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Day wax'd—day waned—and still the dusky wing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Seem'd not to find one resting-place on earth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Saints," groan'd Gawaine, "have mercy on a sinner,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And move that devil—just to stop for dinner!"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 300]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The bird turn'd round, as if it understood.<span class='linenum'>47</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Halted the wing, and seem'd awhile to muse;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then dives at once into a dismal wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And grumbling much, the hungry knight pursues,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hear (and hearing, hope once more revives),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet-clinking horns, and gently-clashing knives.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An opening glade a pleasant group displays;<span class='linenum'>48</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ladies and knights amidst the woodland feast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Around them, reinless, steed and palfrey graze;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To earth leaps Gawaine—"I shall dine at least."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His casque he doffs—"Good knights and ladies fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vouchsafe a famish'd man your feast to share."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Loud laugh'd a big, broad-shoulder'd, burly host;<span class='linenum'>49</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"On two conditions, eat thy fill," quoth he;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Before one dines, 'tis well to know the cost—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou'lt wed my daughter, and thou'lt fight with me."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Sir Host," said Gawaine, as he stretch'd his platter,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I'll first the pie discuss, and then—the matter."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The ladies look'd upon the comely knight<span class='linenum'>50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">His arch bright eye provoked the smile it found;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The men admired that vasty appetite,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Meet to do honour to the Table Round;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The host, reseated, sent the guest his horn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brimm'd with pure drinks distill'd from barley corn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Drinks rare in Cymri, true to milder mead,<span class='linenum'>51</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">But long familiar to Milesian lays,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So huge that draught, it had dispatch'd with speed<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ten Irish chiefs in these degenerate days:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir Gawaine drain'd it, and Sir Gawaine laugh'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Cool is your drink, though scanty is the draught;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But, pray you pardon (sir, a slice of boar),<span class='linenum'>52</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Judged by your accent, mantles, beards, and wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(If wine this be) ye come from <span class="smcap">Huerdan's</span><a name="FNanchor_4_140" id="FNanchor_4_140"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_140" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To aid, no doubt, our kindred Celtic line;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye saw the watch-fires on our hills at night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And march to Carduel? read I, sirs, aright?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Stranger," replied the host, "your guess is wrong,<span class='linenum'>53</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And shows your lack of history and reflection;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Huerdan with Cymri is allied too long,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">We come, my friend, to sever the connection:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But first (your bees are wonderful for honey),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yield us your hives—in plainer words your money."<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 301]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Friend," said the golden-tongued Gawaine, "methought<span class='linenum'>54</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Your mines were rich in wealthier ore than ours."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"True," said the host, superbly, "were they wrought!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But shall Milesians waste in work their powers?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Base was that thought, the heartless insult masking,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Faith," said Gawaine, "gold's easier got by asking."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Upsprung the host, upsprung the guests in ire—<span class='linenum'>55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unsprung the gentle dames, and fled affrighted;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High rose the din, than all the din rose higher<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The croak of that curs'd raven quite delighted;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir Gawaine finish'd his last slice of boar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And said, "Good friends, more business and less roar.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If you want peace—shake hands, and peace, I say,<span class='linenum'>56</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">If you want fighting, gramercy! we'll fight."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ho," cried the host, "your dinner you must pay—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The two conditions."—"Host, you're in the right,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To fight I'm willing, but to wed I'm loth:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I choose the first."—"Your word is bound to <i>both</i>:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Me first engaged, if conquer'd you are—dead,<span class='linenum'>57</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And then alone your honour is acquitted:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But conquer me, and then you must be wed;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">You ate!—the contract in that act admitted."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Host," cried the knight, half-stunn'd by all the clatter,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I only said I would discuss the matter.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But if your faith upon my word reposed,<span class='linenum'>58</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That thought alone King Arthur's knight shall bind."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Few moments more, and host and guest had closed—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For blows come quick when folks are so inclined:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They foin'd, they fenced, changed play, and hack'd, and hew'd—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Paused, panted, eyed each other and renew'd;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At length a dexterous and back-handed blow<span class='linenum'>59</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Clove the host's casque and bow'd him to his knee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Host," said the Cymrian to his fallen foe;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"But for thy dinner wolves should dine on thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yield—thou bleed'st badly—yield and ask thy life."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Content," the host replied—"embrace thy wife!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O cursed bird," cried Gawaine, with a groan,<span class='linenum'>60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"To what fell trap my wretched feet were carried!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My darkest dreams had ne'er this fate foreshown—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I sate to dine, I rise—and I am married!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O worse than Esau, miserable elf,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He sold his birthright—but he kept himself."<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 302]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While thus in doleful and heart-rending strain<span class='linenum'>61</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mourn'd the lost knight, the host his daughter led,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Placed her soft hand in that of sad Gawaine—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Joy be with both!"—the bridegroom shook his head!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I have a castle which I won by force—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mount, happy man, for thither wends our course:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Page, bind my scalp—to broken scalps we're used.<span class='linenum'>62</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Your bride, brave son, is worthy of your merit;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No man alive has Erin's maids accused,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And least <i>that</i> maiden, of a want of spirit;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She plies a sword as well as you, fair sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When out of hand, just try your hand on her."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not once Sir Gawaine lifts his leaden eyes,<span class='linenum'>63</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To mark the bride by partial father praised,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But mounts his steed—the gleesome raven flies<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Before; beside him rides the maid amazed:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Sir Knight," said she at last, with clear loud voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I hope your musings do not blame your choice?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Damsel," replied the knight of golden tongue,<span class='linenum'>64</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As with some effort be replied at all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Sith our two skeins in one the Fates have strung,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My thoughts were guessing when the shears would fall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Much irks it me, lest vow'd to toil and strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I doom a widow where I make a wife.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And sooth to say, despite those matchless charms<span class='linenum'>65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which well might fire our last new saint, Dubricius,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To-morrow's morn must snatch me from thine arms;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Led to far lands by auguries, not auspicious—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wise to postpone a bond, how dear soever,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till my return."—"Return! that may be never:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What if you fall? (since thus you tempt the Fates)<span class='linenum'>66</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The yew will flourish where the lily fades;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The laidliest widows find consoling mates<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With far less trouble than the comeliest maids;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherefore, Sir Husband, have a cheerful mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whate'er may chance your wife will be resign'd."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That loving comfort, arguing sense discreet,<span class='linenum'>67</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">But coldly pleased the knight's ungrateful ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But while devising still some vile retreat,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The trumpets flourish and the walls frown near;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just as the witching night begins to fall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They pass the gates and enter in the hall.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 303]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Soon in those times primæval came the hour<span class='linenum'>68</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">When balmy sleep did wasted strength repair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They led Sir Gawaine to the lady's bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unbraced his mail, and left him with the fair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then first, demurely seated side by side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dolorous bridegroom gazed upon the bride.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No iron heart had he of golden tongue,<span class='linenum'>69</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To beauty none by nature were politer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bride was tall and buxom, fresh and young,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And while he gazed, his tearful eyes grew brighter;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"'For good, for better,' runs the sacred verse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sith now no better—let me brave the worse."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With that he took and kiss'd the lady's hand,<span class='linenum'>70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The lady smiled, and Gawaine's heart grew bolder,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When from the roof by some unseen command,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flash'd down a sword and smote him on the shoulder—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The knight leapt up, sore-bleeding from the stroke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While from the lattice caw'd the merriest croak!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Aghast he gazed—the sword within the roof<span class='linenum'>71</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Again had vanish'd; nought was to be seen—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He felt his shoulder, and remain'd aloof.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Fair dame," quoth he, "explain what this may mean."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bride replied not, hid her face and wept;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slow to her side, with caution, Gawaine crept.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Nay, weep not, sweetheart, but a scratch—no more,"<span class='linenum'>72</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">He bent to kiss the dew-drops from his rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When presto down the glaive enchanted shore—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gawaine leapt back in time to save his nose.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ah, cruel father," groan'd the lady then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I hoped, at least, thou wert content with ten!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ten what?" said Gawaine.—"Gallant knights like thee,<span class='linenum'>73</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who fought and conquer'd my deceitful sire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Married, as thou, to miserable me,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And doom'd, as thou, beneath the sword to expire—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By this device he gains their arms and steeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So where force fails him, there the fraud succeeds."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Foul felon host," the wrathful knight exclaims,<span class='linenum'>74</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Foul wizard bird, no doubt in league with him!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have they no dread lest all good knights and dames<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Save fiends their task, and rend them limb from limb?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But thou for Gawaine ne'er shalt be a mourner,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou keep the couch, and I—yon farthest corner!"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 304]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This said, the prudent knight on tiptoe stealing<span class='linenum'>75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Went from his bride as far as he could go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then laid him down, intent upon the ceiling;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Noses, once lost, no second crop will grow—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So watch'd Sir Gawaine, so the lady wept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perch'd on the lattice-sill the raven slept.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Blithe rose the sun, and blither still Gawaine;<span class='linenum'>76</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Steps climb the stair, a hand unbars the door—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Saints," cries the host, and stares upon the twain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Amazed to see that living guest once more.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Did you sleep well?"—"Why, yes," replied the knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"One gnat, indeed;—but gnats were made to bite.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Man must leave insects to their insect law;—<span class='linenum'>77</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Now thanks, kind host, for board and bed and all—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Depart I must,"—the raven gave a caw.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"And I with thee," chimed in that damsel tall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nay," said Gawaine, "I wend on ways of strife."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Sir, hold your tongue—I choose it; I'm your wife."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With that the lady took him by the hand,<span class='linenum'>78</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And led him, fall'n of crest, adown the stair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Buckled his mail, and girded on his brand,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Brimm'd full the goblet, nor disdain'd to share—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The host saith nothing or to knight or bride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forth comes the steed—a palfrey by its side.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then Gawaine flung from the untasted board<span class='linenum'>79</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">His manchet to a hound with hungry face;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sprung to his selle, and wish'd, too late, that sword<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had closed his miseries with a <i>coup de grace</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They clear the walls, the open road they gain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bride rode dauntless—daunted much Gawaine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gaily the fair discoursed on many things,<span class='linenum'>80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">But most on those ten lords—his time before,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unhappy wights, who, as old Homer sings,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had gone, "Proiapsoi," to the Stygian shore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, each described and praised,—she smiled and said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But one live dog is worth ten lions dead."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The knight prepared that proverb to refute.<span class='linenum'>81</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">When the bird beckon'd down a delving lane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there the bride provoked a new dispute:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That path was frightful—she preferr'd the plain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Dame," said the knight, "not I your steps compel—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take thou the plain!—adieu! I take the dell."<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 305]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ah, cruel lord," with gentle voice and mien<span class='linenum'>82</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The lady murmur'd, and regain'd his side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Little thou know'st of woman's faith, I ween,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All paths alike save those that would divide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ungrateful knight—too dearly loved!"—"But then,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Falter'd Gawaine, "you said the same to <i>ten</i>!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ah no; their deaths alone their lives endear'd<span class='linenum'>83</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Slain for my sake, as I could die for thine;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And while she spoke so lovely she appear'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The knight did, blissful, towards her cheek incline—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, ere a tender kiss his thanks could say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A strong hand jerk'd the palfrey's neck away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Unseen till then, from out the bosky dell<span class='linenum'>84</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had leapt a huge, black-brow'd, gigantic wight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sudden he swung the lady from her selle,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And seized that kiss defrauded from the knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While, with loud voice and gest uncouth, he swore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So fair a cheek he ne'er had kiss'd before!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With mickle wrath Sir Gawaine sprang from steed,<span class='linenum'>85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And, quite forgetful of his wonted parle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He did at once without a word proceed<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To make a ghost of that presuming carle.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The carle, nor ghost nor flesh inclined to yield,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Took to his club, and made the bride his shield.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hold, stay thine hand!" the hapless lady cried,<span class='linenum'>86</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As high in air the knight his falchion rears;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The carle his laidly jaws distended wide,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And—"Ho," he laugh'd, "for me the sweet one fears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strike, if thou durst, and pierce two hearts in one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or yield the prize—by love already won."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In high disdain, the knight of golden tongue<span class='linenum'>87</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Look'd this way, that, revolving where to smite;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still as he look'd, and turn'd, the giant swung<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The unknightly buckler round from left to right.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then said the carle—"What need of steel and strife?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A word in time may often save a life,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"This lady me prefers, or I mistake,<span class='linenum'>88</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Most ladies like an honest hearty wooer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Abide the issue, she her choice shall make;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dare you, sir rival, leave the question to her?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If so, resheath your sword, remount your steed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I loose the lady, and retire."—"Agreed,"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 306]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sir Gawaine answer'd—sure of the result,<span class='linenum'>89</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And charm'd the fair so cheaply to deliver;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ladies' hearts are hidden and occult,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Deep as the sea, and changeful as the river.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The carle released the fair, and left her free—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Caw," said the raven, from the willow tree.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A winsome knight all know was fair Gawaine<span class='linenum'>90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">(No knight more winsome shone in Arthur's court:)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The carle's rough features were of homeliest grain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As shaped by Nature in burlesque and sport;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lady look'd and mused, and scann'd the two,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then made her choice—the carle had spoken true.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The knight forsaken, rubb'd astounded eyes,<span class='linenum'>91</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then touch'd his steed and slowly rode away—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Bird," quoth Gawaine, as on the raven flies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Be peace between us, from this blessed day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One single act has made me thine for life,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou hast shown the path by which I lost a wife!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While thus his grateful thought Sir Gawaine vents,<span class='linenum'>92</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">He hears, behind, the carle's Stentorian cries;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He turns, he pales, he groans—"The carle repents!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">No, by the saints, he keeps her or he dies!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here at his stirrups stands the panting wight—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The lady's hound, restore the hound, sir knight."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The hound," said Gawaine, much relieved, "what hound?"<span class='linenum'>93</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And then perceived he that the dog he fed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With grateful steps the kindly guest had found,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And there stood faithful.—"Friend," Sir Gawaine said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"What's just is just! the dog must have his due,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dame had hers, to choose between the two."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The carle demurr'd; but justice was so clear,<span class='linenum'>94</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">He'd nought to urge against the equal law;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He calls the hound, the hound disdains to hear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He nears the hound, the hound expands his jaw;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fangs were strong and sharp, that jaw within,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The carle drew back—"Sir knight, I fear you win."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My friend," replies Gawaine, the ever bland,<span class='linenum'>95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"I took thy lesson, in return take mine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All human ties, alas, are ropes of sand,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My lot to-day, to-morrow may be thine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But never yet the dog our bounty fed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Betray'd the kindness, or forgot the bread."<a name="FNanchor_5_141" id="FNanchor_5_141"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_141" class="fnanchor">[5]</a><br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 307]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With that the courteous hand he gravely waved,<span class='linenum'>96</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor deem'd it prudent longer to delay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tempt not the reflow, from the ebb just saved!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He spurr'd his steed, and vanish'd from the way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sure of rebuke, and troubled in his mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An alter'd man, the carle his fair rejoin'd,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That day the raven led the knight to dine<span class='linenum'>97</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where merry monks spread no abstemious board;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dainty the meat, and delicate the wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sir Gawaine felt his sprightlier self restored;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When towards the eve the raven croak'd anew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And spread the wing for Gawaine to pursue.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With clouded brow the pliant knight obey'd,<span class='linenum'>98</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And took his leave and quaff'd his stirrup cup;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And briskly rode he through glen and glade,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till the fair moon, to speak in prose, was up;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then to the raven, now familiar grown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He said—"Friend bird, night's made for sleep, you'll own.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"This oak presents a choice of boughs for you,<span class='linenum'>99</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">For me a curtain and a grassy mound."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Straight to the oak the obedient raven flew,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And croak'd with merry, yet malignant sound.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The luckless knight thought nothing of the croak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And laid him down beneath the Fairy's Oak.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of evil fame was Nannau's antique tree,<span class='linenum'>100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yet styled "the hollow oak of demon race;"<a name="FNanchor_6_142" id="FNanchor_6_142"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_142" class="fnanchor">[6]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But blithe Gwyn ab Nudd's elfin family<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Were the gay demons of the slander'd place;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ne'er in scene more elfin, near and far,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On dancing fairies glanced the smiling star.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whether thy chafing torrents, rock-born Caine,<span class='linenum'>101</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flash through the delicate birch and glossy elm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or prison'd Mawddach<a name="FNanchor_7_143" id="FNanchor_7_143"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_143" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> clangs his triple chain<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of waters, fleeing to the happier realm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where his course broad'ning smiles along the land;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So souls grow tranquil as their thoughts expand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">High over subject vales the brow serene<span class='linenum'>102</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the lone mountain look'd on moonlit skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wide glades far opening into swards of green,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With shimmering foliage of a thousand dyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tedded tufts of heath, and ivyed boles<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of trees, and wild flowers scenting bosky knolls.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 308]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And herds of deer as slight as Jura's roe,<a name="FNanchor_8_144" id="FNanchor_8_144"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_144" class="fnanchor">[8]</a><span class='linenum'>103</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or Irân's shy gazelle, on sheenest places,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Group'd still, or flitted the far alleys through;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The fairy quarry for the fairy chaces;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or wheel'd the bat, brushing o'er brake and scaur,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lured by the moth, as lures the moth the star.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sir Gawaine slept—Sir Gawaine slept not long,<span class='linenum'>104</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">His ears were tickled, and his nose was tweak'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light feet ran quick his stalwart limbs along,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Light fingers pinch'd him, and light voices squeak'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He oped his eyes, the left and then the right,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair was the scene, and hideous was his fright!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The tiny people swarm around, and o'er him,<span class='linenum'>105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Here on his breast they lead the morris-dance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, in each ray diagonal before him,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They wheel, leap, pirouette, caper, shoot askance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Climb row on row each other's pea-green shoulder,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And point and mow upon the shock'd beholder.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And some had faces lovelier than Cupido's,<span class='linenum'>106</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With rose-bud lips, all dimpling o'er with glee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And some had brows as ominous as Dido's,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When Ilion's pious traitor put to sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some had bull heads, some lions', but in small,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And some (the finer drest) no heads at all.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By mortal dangers scared, the wise resort<span class='linenum'>107</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To means fugacious, <i>licet et licebit</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he who settles in a fairy's court,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Loses that option, <i>sedet et sedebit</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thrice Gawaine strove to stir, nor stirr'd a jot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charms, cramps, and torments nail'd him to the spot.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus of his limbs deprived, the ingenious knight<span class='linenum'>108</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Straightway betook him to his golden tongue—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Angels," quoth he, "or fairies, with delight<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I see the race my friends the bards have sung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Much honour'd that, in any way expedient,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You make a ball-room of your most obedient."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Floated a sound of laughter, musical—<span class='linenum'>109</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As when in summer noon, melodious bees<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cluster o'er jasmine roofs, or as the fall<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of silver bells, on the Arabian breeze;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What time with chiming feet in palmy shades<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Move, round the soften'd Moor, his Georgian maids.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 309]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Forth from the rest there stepped a princely fay—<span class='linenum'>110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"And well, sir mortal, dost thou speak," quoth he,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"We elves are seldom froward to the gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rise up, and welcome to our companie."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir Gawaine won his footing with a spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low bow'd the knight, as low the fairy king.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"By the bright diadem of dews congeal'd,<span class='linenum'>111</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And purple robe of pranksome butterfly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your royal rank," said Gawaine, "is reveal'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yet more, methinks, by your majestic eye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of kings with mien august I know but two,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men have their Arthur,—happier fairies, you."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Methought," replied the elf, "thy first accost<span class='linenum'>112</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Proclaim'd thee one of Arthur's peerless train;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Elsewhere alas!—our later age hath lost<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The blithe good-breeding of King Saturn's reign,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, some four thousand years ago, with Fauns,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We Fays made merry on Arcadian lawns.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Time flees so fast it seems but yesterday!<span class='linenum'>113</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And life is brief for fairies as for men."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ha," said Gawaine, "can fairies pass away?"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Pass like the mist on Arran's wave, what then?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At least we're young as long as we survive;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our years six thousand—I have number'd five.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But we have stumbled on a dismal theme,<span class='linenum'>114</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As always happens when one meets a man—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ho! stop that zephyr!—Robin, catch that beam!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And now, my friend, we'll feast it while we can."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moonbeam halts, the zephyr bows his wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light through the leaves the laughing people spring.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then Gawaine felt as if he skirr'd the air,<span class='linenum'>115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">His brain grew dizzy, and his breath was gone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He stopp'd at last, and such inviting fare<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Never plump monk set lustful eyes upon.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wild sweet-briars girt the banquet, but the brake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oped where in moonlight rippled Bala's lake.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Such dainty cheer—such rush of revelry—<span class='linenum'>116</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Such silver laughter—such arch happy faces—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such sportive quarrels from excess of glee—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hush'd up with such sly innocent embraces,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Might well make <i>twice</i> six thousand years appear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To elfin minds a sadly nipp'd career!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 310]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The banquet o'er, the royal Fay intent<span class='linenum'>117</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To do all honour to King Arthur's knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smote with his rod the bank on which they leant,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Fairy-land flash'd glorious on the sight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flash'd, through a silvery, soft, translucent mist,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The opal shafts and domes of amethyst;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Flash'd founts in shells of pearl, which crystal walls<span class='linenum'>118</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And phosphor lights of myriad hues redouble;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, in the blissful subterranean halls,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When morning wakes the world of human trouble,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glide the gay race; each sound our discord knows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faint-heard above, but lulls them to repose.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Gawaine, blush! Alas! that gorgeous sight,<span class='linenum'>119</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">But woke the latent mammon in the man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While fairy treasures shone upon the knight,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His greedy thoughts on lands and castles ran.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He stretch'd his hands, he felt the fingers itch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Sir Fay," quoth he, "you must be monstrous rich!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Scarce fall the words from those unlucky lips,<span class='linenum'>120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Than down rush'd darkness, flooding all the place;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His feet a fairy in a twinkling trips;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The angry winglets swarm upon his face;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pounce on their prey the tiny torturers flew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sang this moral while they pinch'd him blue:<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>CHORUS OF PREACHING FAIRIES.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Joy to him who fairy treasures<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With a fairy's eye can see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Woe to him who counts and measures<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What the worth in coin may be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gems from wither'd leaves we fashion<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For the spirit pure from stain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grasp them with a sordid passion<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And they turn to leaves again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>CHORUS OF PINCHING FAIRIES.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here and there, and everywhere,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tramp and cramp him inch by inch;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair is fair,—to each his share<br /></span> +<span class="i1">You shall preach, and we will pinch.<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>CHORUS OF PREACHING FAIRIES.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fairy treasures are not rated<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By their value in the mart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In thy bosom, Earth, created<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For the coffers of the heart.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 311]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dost thou covet fairy money?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rifle but the blossom bells—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the wild bee, shape the honey<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Into golden cloister-cells.<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>CHORUS OF PINCHING FAIRIES.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Spirit hear it, flesh revere it!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stamp the lesson inch by inch!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rightly merit, flesh and spirit,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">This the preaching, that the pinch!<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>CHORUS OF PREACHING FAIRIES.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wretched mortal, once invited,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fairy land was thine at will;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Every little star had lighted<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Revels when the world was still.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Every bank a gate had granted.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To the topaz-paven halls—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Every wave had roll'd enchanted,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Chiming from our music-falls.<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>CHORUS OF PINCHING FAIRIES.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Round him winging, sharp and stinging,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Clip him, nip him, inch by inch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sermons singing, wisdom bringing,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Point the moral with a pinch.<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>CHORUS OF PREACHING FAIRIES.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now the spell is lost for ever,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the common earth is thine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Count the traffic on the river,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Weigh the ingots in the mine;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Look around, aloft, and under,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With an eye upon the cost;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gone the happy world of wonder!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Woe, thy fairy land is lost!<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>CHORUS OF PINCHING FAIRIES.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nature bare is, where thine air is,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Custom cramps thee inch by inch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when care is, human fairies<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Preach and—vanish, at a pinch!<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sudden they cease—for shrill crow'd chanticleer;<span class='linenum'>121</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Grey on the darkness broke the glimmering light;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slowly assured he was not dead with fear<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And pinches, cautious peer'd around the knight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He found himself replaced beneath the oak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And heard with rising wrath the chuckling croak.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 312]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O bird of birds most monstrous and malific,<span class='linenum'>122</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Were these the inns to which thou wert to lead!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now gash'd with swords, now claw'd by imps horrific;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wives—wounds—cramps—pinches! Precious guide, indeed!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ossa on Pelion piling, crime on crime:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wretch, save thy throttle, and repent in time!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus spoke the knight—the raven gave a grunt,<span class='linenum'>123</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">(That raven liked not threats to life or limb!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then with due sense of the unjust affront,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hopp'd supercilious forth, and summon'd him—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His mail once more the aching knight indued,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Limp'd to his steed, and ruefully pursued.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sun was high when all the glorious sea<span class='linenum'>124</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flash'd through the boughs that overhung the way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And down a path, as rough as path could be,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The bird flew sullen, delving towards the bay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moody knight dismounts, and leads with pain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stumbling steed, oft backing from the rein.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One ray of hope alone illumed his soul,<span class='linenum'>125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"The bird will lead thee to the ocean coast,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wizard's words had clearly mark'd the goal;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The goal once won—of course the guide was lost;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While thus consoled, its croak the raven gave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Folded its wings and hopp'd into a cave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sir Gawaine paused—Sir Gawaine drew his sword;<span class='linenum'>126</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The bird unseen scream'd loud for him to follow—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His soul the knight committed to our Lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stepp'd on—and fell ten yards into a hollow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No time had he the ground thus gain'd to note,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere six strong hands laid gripe upon his throat.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It was a creek, three sides with rocks enclosed,<span class='linenum'>127</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The fourth stretch'd, opening on the golden sand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dull on the wave an anchor'd ship reposed;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A boat with peaks of brass lay on the strand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in that creek caroused the grisliest crew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thor ever nurst, or Rana<a name="FNanchor_9_145" id="FNanchor_9_145"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_145" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> ever knew.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But little cared the knight for mortal foes.<span class='linenum'>128</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">From those strong hands he wrench'd himself away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sprang to his feet and dealt so dour his blows,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cleft to the chin a grim Berseker lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Fin fell next, and next a giant Dane—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ten thousand pardons!" said the bland Gawaine.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 313]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But ev'n in that not democratic age<span class='linenum'>129</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Too large majorities were stubborn things,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor long could one man strive against the rage<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of half a hundred thick-skull'd ocean kings—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Four felons crept between him and the rocks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lifted four clubs and fell'd him like an ox.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When next the knight unclosed his dizzy eyes,<span class='linenum'>130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">His feet were fetter'd and his arms were bound—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Below the ocean and above the skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sails flapp'd—cords crackled; long he gazed around;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still where he gazed, fierce eyes and naked swords<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peer'd through the flapping sails and crackling cords—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A chief before him leant upon his club,<span class='linenum'>131</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With hideous visage bush'd with tawny hair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Who plays at bowls must count upon a rub,"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Said the bruised Gawaine, with a smiling air;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Brave sir, permit me humbly to suggest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You make your gyves too tight across the breast."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Grinn'd the grim chief, vouchsafing no reply;<span class='linenum'>132</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The knight resumed—"Your pleasant looks bespeak<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A mind as gracious;—may I ask you why<br /></span> +<span class="i1">You fish for Christians in King Arthur's creek?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The kings of creeks," replied that hideous man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Are we, the Vikings and the sons of Ran!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Your beacon fires allured us to your strands,<span class='linenum'>133</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The dastard herdsmen fled before our feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee, Odin's raven guided to our hands;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thrice happy man, Valhalla's boar to eat!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The raven's choice suggests it's God's idea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And marks thee out—a sacrifice to Freya!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As spoke the Viking, over Gawaine's head<span class='linenum'>134</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Circled the raven with triumphal caw;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then o'er the cliffs, still hoarse with glee, it fled.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thrice a deep breath the knight relieved did draw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair seem'd the voyage—pleasant seem'd the haven;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Bless'd saints," he cried, "I have escaped the raven!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 314]</span></p> +<h2>BOOK VII.</h2> + +<h4>ARGUMENT.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Arthur and the Lady of the Lake—They land on the Meteor Isle—which then +sinks to the Halls below—Arthur beholds the Forest springing from a single +stem—He tells his errand to the Phantom, and rejects the fruits that It +proffers him in lieu of the Sword—He is conducted by the Phantom to the +entrance of the caves, through which he must pass alone—He reaches the +Coral Hall of the Three Kings—The Statue crowned with thorns—The Asps +and the Vulture, and the Diamond Sword—The choice of the Three Arches—He +turns from the first and second arch, and beholds himself, in the third, a +corpse—The sleeping King rises at Arthur's question—"if his death shall be +in vain?"—The Vision of times to be—Cœur de Lion and the age of Chivalry—The +Tudors—Henry VII.—the restorer of the line of Arthur and the +founder of civil Freedom—Henry VIII. and the Revolution of Thought—Elizabeth +and the Age of Poetry—The union of Cymrian and Saxon, under +the sway of "Crowned Liberty"—Arthur makes his choice, and attempts, +but in vain, to draw the Sword from the Rock—The Statue with the thorn-wreath +addresses him—Arthur called upon to sacrifice the Dove—His reply—The +glimpse of Heaven—The trance which succeeds, and in which the King +is borne to the sea shores.</p></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As when, in Autumn nights and Arctic skies,<span class='linenum'>1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">An angel makes the cloud his noiseless car,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, through cerulean silence, silent flies<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From antique Hesper to some dawning star,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So still, so swift, along the windless tides<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her vapour-sail the Phantom Lady guides.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Along the sheen, along the glassy sheen,<span class='linenum'>2</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Amid the lull of lucent night they go;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till, in the haven of an islet green,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Murmuring through reeds, the gentle waters flow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shooting pinnace gains the gradual strand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hush'd as a shadow glides the Shape to land.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Cymrian, following, scarcely touch'd the shore<span class='linenum'>3</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">When slowly, slowly sunk the meteor-isle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fathom on fathom, to the sparry floor<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of alabaster shaft and porphyr-pile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Built as by Nereus for his own retreat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or the Nymph-mother of the silver feet.<a name="FNanchor_1_146" id="FNanchor_1_146"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_146" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 315]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Far, through the crystal lymph, the pillar'd halls<span class='linenum'>4</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Went lengthening on in vista'd majesty;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The waters sapp'd not the enchanted walls,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor shut their roofless silence from the sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But every beam that lights this world of ours<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Broke sparkling downward into diamond showers.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the strange magic of the place bestow'd<span class='linenum'>5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Its own strange life upon the startled King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round him, like air, the subtle waters flow'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As round the Naiad flows her native spring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Domelike collapsed the azure;—moonlight clear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fill'd the melodious silvery atmosphere—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Melodious with the chaunt of distant falls<span class='linenum'>6</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of sportive waves, within the waves at play,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And infant springs that bubble up the halls<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through sparry founts (on which the broken ray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weaves its slight iris), hymning while they rise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To that smooth calm their restless life supplies,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Like secret thoughts in some still poet's soul,<span class='linenum'>7</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That swell the deep while yearning to the stars:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But overhead a trembling shadow stole,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A gloom that leaf-like quiver'd on the spars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that quick shadow, ever moving, fell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From a vast Tree with root immoveable;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In link'd arcades, and interwoven bowers<span class='linenum'>8</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Swept the long forest from that single stem!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, flashing through the foliage, fruits or flowers<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In jewell'd clusters, glow'd with every gem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Golgonda hideth from the greed of kings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or Lybian gryphons guard with drowsy wings.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here blush'd the ruby, warm as Charity,<span class='linenum'>9</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">There the mild topaz, wrath-assuaging, shone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Radiant as Mercy; like an angel's eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or a stray splendour from the Father's throne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sapphire chaste a heavenly lustre gave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To that blue heaven reflected on the wave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Never from India's cave, or Oman's sea<span class='linenum'>10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Swart Afrite stole for scornful Peri's brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such gems as, wasted on that Wonder-tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Paled Sheban treasures in each careless bough;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And every bough the gliding wavelet heaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quivers to music with the quivering leaves.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 316]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then first the Sovereign Lady of the deep<span class='linenum'>11</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Spoke;—and the waves and whispering leaves wore still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ever I rise before the eyes that weep<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When, born from sorrow, Wisdom wakes the will;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But few behold the shadow through the dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And few will dare the venture of the bark.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And now amid the Cuthites' temple halls<span class='linenum'>12</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'er which the waters undestroying flow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heark'ning the mysteries hymn'd from silver falls<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or from the springs that, gushing up below,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gleam to the surface, whence to Heaven updrawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They form the clouds that harbinger the Dawn,—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Say what the treasures which my deeps enfold<span class='linenum'>13</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That thou would'st bear to the terrestrial day?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then Arthur answer'd—and his quest he told,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The prophet mission which his steps obey—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Here springs the forest from the single stem:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I seek the falchion welded from the gem!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Pause," said the Phantom, "and survey the tree!<span class='linenum'>14</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">More worth one fruit that weighs a branchlet down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than all which mortals in the sword can see.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou ask'st the falchion to defend a crown—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But seize the fruit, and to thy grasp decreed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More realms than Ormuzd lavish'd on the Mede;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Than great Darius left his doomèd son,<span class='linenum'>15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">From Scythian wastes to Abyssinian caves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Nimrod's tomb in silenced Babylon<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To Argive islands fretting Asian waves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than changed to sceptres the rude Lictor-rods,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And placed the worm call'd Cæsar with the gods!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Pause—take thy choice—each gem a host can buy,<span class='linenum'>16</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Seize—and yoke kings to War's triumphant car!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Child of Earth, no Genii here defy,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The fruits unguarded, and the fiends afar—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But dark the perils that surround the Sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And slight its worth—ambitious if its Lord;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"True to the warrior on his native soil,<span class='linenum'>17</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Its blade would break in the Invader's clasp;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A weapon meeter for the sons of Toil,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When plough-shares turn to falchions in their grasp;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leave the rude boor to battle for his hearth—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Expand thy scope;—Ambition asks the Earth!"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 317]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Spirit or Sorceress," said the frowning King,<span class='linenum'>18</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Panic like the Sun illumes an Universe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But life and joy both Fame and Sun should bring;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And God ordains no glory for a curse.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The souls of kings should be the towers of law,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We right the balance, if the sword we draw!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Not mine the crowns the Persian lost or won,<span class='linenum'>19</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tiaras glittering over kneeling slaves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mine be the sword that freed at Marathon,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The unborn races by the Father-graves—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or stay'd the Orient in the Spartan pass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And carved on Time thy name, Leonidas."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Sibyl of the Sources of the Deep<span class='linenum'>20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Heard nor replied, but, indistinct and wan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Went as a Dream that through the worlds of Sleep<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Leads the charm'd soul of labour-wearied man;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ev'n as man and dream, so, side by side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glideth the mortal with the gliding guide.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Glade after glade, beneath that forest tree<span class='linenum'>21</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">They pass,—till sudden, looms amid the waves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A dismal rock, hugely and heavily,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With crags distorted vaulting horrent caves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A single moonbeam through the hollow creeps:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glides with the beam the Lady of the deeps.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then Arthur felt the Dove that at his breast<span class='linenum'>22</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lay nestling warm—stir quick and quivering,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His soothing hand the crisped plumes caress'd;—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Slow went they on, the Lady and the King:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, ever as they went, before their way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er prison'd waters lengthening stretch'd the ray.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now the black jaws as of a hell they gain;<span class='linenum'>23</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Lake's pale Hecate pauses. "Lo," she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Within, the Genii thou invadest reign.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Alone thy feet the threshold floors must tread—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lone is the path when glory is the goal;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pass to thy proof—O solitary soul!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She spoke to vanish—but the single ray<span class='linenum'>24</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shot from the unseen moon, still palely breaketh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The awe that rests with midnight on the way;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Faithful as Hope when Wisdom's self forsaketh—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The buoyant beam the lonely man pursued—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, feeling God, he felt not Solitude.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 318]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No fiend obscene, no giant spectre grim<span class='linenum'>25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">(Born or of Runic or Arabian Song),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Affronts the progress through the gallery dim,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Into the sudden light which flames along<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The waves, and dyes the stillness of their flood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To one red horror like a lake of blood.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now, he enters, with that lurid tide,<span class='linenum'>26</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where time-long corals shape a mighty hall:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Three curtain'd arches on the dexter side,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And on the floors a ruby pedestal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On which, with marble lips, that life-like smiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stood the fair Statue of a crownèd Child:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It smiled, and yet its crown was wreath'd of thorns,<span class='linenum'>27</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And round its limbs coil'd foul the viper's brood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Near to that Child a rough crag, deluge-torn,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Jagg'd, with sharp shadow abrupt, the luminous flood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a huge Vulture from the summit, there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Watch'd, with dull hunger in its glassy stare.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Below the Vulture in the rock ensheathed,<span class='linenum'>28</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shone out the hilt-beam of the diamond glaive;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the hall one hue of crimson wreathed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And all the galleries vista'd through the wave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As flush'd the coral fathom-deep below,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lit into glory from the ruby's glow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And on three thrones there sate three giant forms,<span class='linenum'>29</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rigid the first, as Death;—with lightless eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And brows as hush'd as deserts, when the storms<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lock the tornado in the Nubian skies;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dead on dead knees the large hands nerveless rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dead the front droops heavy on the breast.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The second shape, with bright and kindling eye<span class='linenum'>30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And aspect haughty with triumphant life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a young Titan rear'd its crest on high,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Crown'd as for sway, and harness'd as for strife;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, o'er one-half his image, there was cast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A shadow from the throne where sate the last.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And this, the third and last, seem'd in that sleep<span class='linenum'>31</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which neighbours waking in a summer's dawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When dreams, relaxing, scarce their captive keep;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Half o'er his face a veil transparent drawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stirr'd with quick sighs unquiet and disturb'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which told the impatient soul the slumber curb'd.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 319]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thrill'd, but undaunted, on the Adventurer strode<span class='linenum'>32</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then spoke the youthful Genius with the crown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And armour: "Hail to our august abode!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Guardless we greet the seeker of Renown.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In our least terror cravens Death behold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But vainly frown our direst for the bold."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And who are ye?" the wondering King replied,<span class='linenum'>33</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"On whose large aspects reigns the awe sublime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of fabled judges, that o'er souls preside<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In Rhadamanthian Halls?" "The Lords of Time,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Answer'd the Giant, "And our realms are three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The <span class="smcap">What has been, what is</span>, and <small>WHAT SHALL BE</small>!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But while we speak my brother's shadow creeps<span class='linenum'>34</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Over the life-blood that it freezes fast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haste, while the king that shall discrown me sleeps,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor lose the Present—lo, how dead the Past!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Accept the trials, Prince beloved by Heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the deep heart—(that nobler reason,) given.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thou hast rejected in the Cuthites' halls<span class='linenum'>35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The fruits that flush Ambition's dazzling tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Conqueror's lust of blood-stain'd coronals;—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Again thine ordeal in thy judgment be!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor here shall empire need the arm of crime—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Fate achieve the lot, thou ask'st from Time.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Behold the threefold Future at thy choice,<span class='linenum'>36</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Choose right, and win from Fame the master-spell."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then the concealing veils, as ceased the voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the three arches with a clangor fell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And clear as scenes with Thespian wonders rife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gave to his view the Lemur-shapes of life.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo the fair stream amidst that pleasant vale,<span class='linenum'>37</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wherein his youth held careless holiday;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stream is blithe with many a silken sail,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The vale with many a proud pavilion gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the centre of the rosy ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reclines the Phantom of himself—the King.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All, all the same as when his golden prime<span class='linenum'>38</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lay in the lap of Life's soft Arcady;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the light love beheld no foe but Time,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When but from Pleasure heaved the prophet sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Luxury's prayer was as "a Summer day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Mid blooms and sweets to wear the hours away."<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 320]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Behold," the Genius said, "is that thy choice<span class='linenum'>39</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As once it was?" "Nay, I have wept since then,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Answer'd the mortal with a mournful voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"When the dews fall, the stars arise for men!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So turn'd he to the second arch to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The imperial peace of tranquil majesty;—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The kingly throne, himself the dazzling king;<span class='linenum'>40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bright arms, and jewell'd vests, and purple stoles;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While silver winds, from many a music-string,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rippled the wave of glittering banderolls:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From mitred priests and ermined barons, clear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came the loud praise which monarchs love to hear!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Doth this content thee?" "Ay," the Prince replied,<span class='linenum'>41</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And tower'd erect, with empire on his brow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ay, here at once a Monarch may decide,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Be but the substance worthy of the show!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Show me the men whose toil the pomp creates,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pomp is the robe,—Content the soul, of States!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Slow fades the pageant, and the Phantom stage<span class='linenum'>42</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As slowly fill'd with squalid, ghastly forms;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, over fireless hearths cower'd shivering Age<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And blew with feeble breath dead embers;—storms<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hung in the icy welkin; and the bare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth lay forlorn in Winter's charnel air.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And Youth all labour-bow'd, with wither'd look,<span class='linenum'>43</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Knelt by a rushing stream whose waves were gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sought with lean strong hands to grasp the brook,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And clutch the glitter lapsing from the hold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till with mad laugh it ceased, and, tott'ring down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fell, and on frowning skies scowl'd back the frown.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No careless Childhood laugh'd disportingly,<span class='linenum'>44</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">But dwarf'd, pale mandrakes with a century's gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On infant brows, beneath a poison-tree<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With skeleton fingers plied a ghastly loom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mocking in cynic jests life's gravest things,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They wove gay King-robes, muttering "What are Kings?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And through that dreary Hades to and fro,<span class='linenum'>45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stalk'd all unheeded the Tartarean Guests;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grim Discontent that loathes the Gods, and Woe<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Clasping dead infants to her milkless breasts;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And madding Hate, and Force with iron heel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And voiceless Vengeance sharp'ning secret steel.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 321]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, hand in hand, a Gorgon-visaged Pair,<span class='linenum'>46</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Envy and Famine, halt with livid smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Listening the demon-orator Despair,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That, with a glozing and malignant guile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seems sent the gates of Paradise to ope,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lures to Hell by simulating Hope.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Can such things be below and God above?"<span class='linenum'>47</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Falter'd the King;—Replied the Genius—"Nay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is the state that sages most approve;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">This is Man civilized!—the perfect sway<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Merchant Kings;—the ripeness of the Art<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which cheapens men—the Elysium of the Mart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Twixt want and wealth is placed the Reign of Gold;<span class='linenum'>48</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The reign for which each race advancing sighs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And none so clamour to be bought or sold<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As those gaunt shadows—Trade's grim merchandize.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dread not their curse—for their delirious sight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hails in the yellow pest 'The march of Light.'"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Better for nations," cried the wrathful King.<span class='linenum'>49</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"The antique chief, whose palace was the glen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose crown the plumage of the eagle's wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose throne the hill-top, and whose subjects—men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than that last thraldom which precedes decay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Avarice reigns not till the hairs are grey.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Is it in marts that manhood finds its worth?<span class='linenum'>50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">When merchants reign'd—what left they to admire?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which hath bequeath'd the nobler wealth to earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The steel of Sparta, or the gold of Tyre?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath the night-shade let the mandrakes grow—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hide from my sight that Lazar-house of woe."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So, turn'd with generous tears in manly eyes<span class='linenum'>51</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The hardy Lord of heaven-taught Chivalry;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo the third arch and last!—In moonlight, rise<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Cymrian rocks dark-shining from the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all those rocks, some patriot war, far gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hallows with grassy mound and starlit stone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And where the softest falls the loving light,<span class='linenum'>52</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">He sees himself, stretch'd lifeless on the sward,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by the corpse, with sacred robes of white<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Leans on his ivory harp a lonely Bard;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, to the Dead the sole still watchers given<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are the Fame-Singer and the Hosts of Heaven.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 322]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But on the kingly front the kingly crown<span class='linenum'>53</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rests;—the pale right hand grasps the diamond glaive;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The brow, on which ev'n strife hath left no frown,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Calm in the halo Glory gives the Brave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Mortal, is <i>this</i> thy choice?" the Genius cried.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Here Death; there Pleasure; and there Pomp!—decide!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Death," answer'd Arthur, "is nor good nor ill<span class='linenum'>54</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Save in the ends for which men die—and Death<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can oft achieve what Life may not fulfil,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And kindle earth with Valour's dying breath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But oh, one answer to one terror deign,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My land—my people!—is that death in vain?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mute droop'd the Genius, but the unquiet form<span class='linenum'>55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dreaming beside its brother king, arose.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though dreaming still: as leaps the sudden storm<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On sands Arabian, as with spasms and throes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bursts the Fire-mount by soft Parthenopé,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rose the veil'd Genius of the Things to be!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shook all the hollow caves;—with tortur'd groan,<span class='linenum'>56</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shook to their roots in the far core of hell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deep howl'd to deep—the monumental throne<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the dead giant rock'd;—each coral cell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flash'd quivering billowlike. Unshaken smiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the calm ruby base the thorn-crown'd Child.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Genius rose; and through the phantom arch<span class='linenum'>57</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Glided the Shadows of His own pale dreams;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mortal saw the long procession march<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Beside that image which his lemur seems:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An armèd King—three lions on his shield<a name="FNanchor_2_147" id="FNanchor_2_147"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_147" class="fnanchor">[2]</a>—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">First by the Bard-watch'd Shadow paused and kneel'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Kneel'd there his train—upon each mailèd breast<span class='linenum'>58</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">A red cross stamp'd; and, deep as from a sea<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With all its waves, full voices murmur'd, "Rest<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ever unburied, Sire of Chivalry!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ever by Minstrel watch'd, and Knight adored,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">King of the halo-brow, and diamond sword!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then, as from all the courts of all the earth,<span class='linenum'>59</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The reverent pilgrims, countless, clustering came;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They whom the seas of fabled Sirens girth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or Baltic freezing in the Boreal flame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or they, who watch the Star of Bethlem quiver<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Carmel's Olive mount, and Judah's river.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 323]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From violet Provence comes the Troubadour;<span class='linenum'>60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ferrara sends her clarion-sounding son;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comes from Iberian halls the turban'd Moor<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With cymbals chiming to the clarion;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, with large stride, amid the gaudier throng,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stalks the vast Scald of Scandinavian song.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pass'd he who bore the lions and the cross,<span class='linenum'>61</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And all that gorgeous pageant left the space<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Void as a heart that mourns the golden loss<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of young illusions beautiful. A Race<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sedate supplants upon the changeful stage<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light's early sires,—the Song-World's hero-age.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Slow come the Shapes from out the dim Obscure,<span class='linenum'>62</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">A noon-like quiet circles swarming bays,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seas gleam with sails, and wall-less towns secure,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rise from the donjon sites of antique days;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, the calm sovereign of that sober reign!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unarm'd,—with burghers in his pompless train.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And by the corpse of Arthur kneels that king,<span class='linenum'>63</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And murmurs, "Father of the Tudor, hail!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To thee nor bays, nor myrtle wreath I bring;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But in thy Son, the Dragon-born prevail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in my rule Right first deposes Wrong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And first the Weak undaunted face the Strong."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He pass'd—Another, with a Nero's frown<span class='linenum'>64</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shading the quick light of impatient eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strides on—and casts his sceptre, clattering, down,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And from the sceptre rushingly arise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fierce sparks; along the heath they hissing run,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the dull earth glows lurid as a sun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And there is heard afar the hollow crash<span class='linenum'>65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of ruin;—wind-borne, on the flames are driven:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But where, round falling shrines, they coil and flash,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A seraph's hand extends a scroll from heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the rude shape cries loud, "Behold, ye blind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I who have trampled Men have freed the Mind!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So laughing grim, pass'd the Destroyer on;<span class='linenum'>66</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And, after two pale shadows, to the sound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of lutes more musical than Helicon,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A manlike Woman march'd:—The graves around<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yawn'd, and the ghosts of Knighthood, more serene<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In death, arose, and smiled upon the Queen.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 324]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With her (at either hand) two starry forms<span class='linenum'>67</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Glide—than herself more royal—and the glow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of their own lustre, each pale phantom warms<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Into the lovely life the angels know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as they pass, each Fairy leaves its cell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And <span class="smcap">Gloriana</span> calls on <span class="smcap">Ariel</span>!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet she, unconscious as the crescent queen<span class='linenum'>68</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of orbs whose brightness makes her image bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Haught and imperious, through the borrow'd sheen,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Claims to herself the sovereignty of light;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And is herself so stately to survey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That orbs which lend, but seem to steal, the ray.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Elf-land divine, and Chivalry sublime,<span class='linenum'>69</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Seem there to hold their last high jubilee—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One glorious <i>Sabbat</i> of enchanted Time,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ere the dull spell seals the sweet glamoury.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all those wonder-shapes in subject ring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kneel where the Bard still sits beside the King.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Slow falls a mist, far booms a labouring wind,<span class='linenum'>70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As into night reluctant fades the Dream;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lo, the smouldering embers left behind<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the old sceptre-flame, with blood-red beam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kindle afresh, and the thick smoke-reeks go<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heavily up from marching fires below.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hark! through sulphureous cloud the jarring bray<span class='linenum'>71</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of trumpet-clangours—the strong shock of steel;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fitful flashes light the fierce array<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of faces gloomy with the calm of zeal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or knightlier forms, on wheeling chargers borne;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gay in despair, and meeting zeal with scorn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Forth from the throng came a majestic Woe,<span class='linenum'>72</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That wore the shape of man—"And I"—It said<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I am thy Son; and if the Fates bestow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Blood on my soul and ashes on my head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time's is the guilt, though mine the misery—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This teach me, Father—to forgive and die!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But here stern voices drown'd the mournful word,<span class='linenum'>73</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Crying—"Men's freedom is the heritage<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Left by the Hero of the Diamond Sword,"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And others answer'd—"Nay, the knightly age<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaves, as its heirloom, knighthood, and that high<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life in sublimer life called loyalty."<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 325]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then, through the hurtling clamour came a fair<span class='linenum'>74</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shape like a sworded seraph—sweet and grave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when the war heaved distant down the air<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And died, as dies a whirlwind, on the wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the two forms upon the starry hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stood the Arch Beautiful, august and still.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And thus It spoke—"I, too, will hail thee, 'Sire,'<span class='linenum'>75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Type of the Hero-age!—thy sons are not<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the earth's thrones. They who, with stately lyre,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Make kingly thoughts immortal, and the lot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the hard life divine with visitings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the far angels—are thy race of Kings.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"All that ennobles strife in either cause,<span class='linenum'>76</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And, rendering service stately, freedom wise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knits to the throne of God our human laws—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Doth heir earth's humblest son with royalties<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Born from the Hero of the diamond sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Watch'd by the Bard, and by the Brave adored.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then the Bard, seated by the halo'd dead,<span class='linenum'>77</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lifts his sad eyes—and murmurs, "Sing of Him!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doubtful the stranger bows his lofty head,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When down descend his kindred Seraphim;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Borne on their wings he soars from human sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Heaven regains the Habitant of Light.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Again, and once again, from many a pale<span class='linenum'>78</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And swift-succeeding, dim-distinguish'd, crowd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swells slow the pausing pageant. Mount and vale<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mingle in gentle daylight, with one cloud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the fair welkin, which the iris hues<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Steal from its gloom with rays that interfuse.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mild, like all strength, sits Crownèd Liberty,<span class='linenum'>79</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wearing the aspect of a youthful Queen:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And far outstretch'd along the unmeasured sea<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rests the vast shadow of her throne; serene<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the dumb icebergs to the fiery zone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rests the vast shadow of that guardian throne.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And round her group the Cymrian's changeless race<span class='linenum'>80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Blent with the Saxon, brother-like; and both<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saxon and Cymrian from that sovereign trace<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Their hero line;—sweet flower of age-long growth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The single blossom on the twofold stem;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arthur's white plume crests Cerdic's diadem.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 326]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet the same harp that Taliessin strung<span class='linenum'>81</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Delights the sons whose sires the chords delighted;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still the old music of the mountain tongue<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tells of a race not conquer'd but united;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, losing nought, wins all the Saxon won,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shares the realm "where never sets the sun."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Afar is heard the fall of headlong thrones,<span class='linenum'>82</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">But from that throne as calm the shadow falls;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And where Oppression threats and Sorrow groans<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Justice sits listening in her gateless halls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ev'n, if powerless, still intent, to cure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whispers to Truth, "Truths conquer that endure."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet still on that horizon hangs the cloud,<span class='linenum'>83</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And on the cloud still rests the Cymrian's eye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Alas," he murmur'd, "that one mist should shroud,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Perchance from sorrow, that benignant sky!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But while he sigh'd the Vision vanishèd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And left once more the lone Bard by the dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Behold the close of thirteen hundred years;<span class='linenum'>84</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lo, Cymri's Daughter on the Saxon's throne!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Free as their air thy Cymrian mountaineers,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And in the heavens one rainbow cloud alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which shall not pass, until, the cycle o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soul of Arthur comes to earth once more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Dost thou choose Death?" the giant Dreamer said.<span class='linenum'>85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Ay, for in death I seize the life of fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And link the eternal millions with the dead,"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Replied the King—and to the sword he came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Large-striding;—grasp'd the hilt;—the charmèd brand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clove to the rock, and stirr'd not to his hand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Dreaming Genius has his throne resumed;<span class='linenum'>86</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sit the Great Three with Silence for their reign,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Awful as earliest Theban kings entomb'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or idols granite-hewn in Indian fane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When lo, the dove flew forth, and circling round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dropp'd on the thorn-wreath which the Statue crown'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Rose then the Vulture with its carnage-shriek,<span class='linenum'>87</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Up coil'd the darting Asps; the bird above;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Below the reptiles:—poison-fang and beak,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nearer and nearer gather'd round the dove;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When with strange life the marble Image stirr'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sudden pause the Asps—and rests the Bird.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 327]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Mortal," the Image murmur'd, "I am He,<span class='linenum'>88</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose voice alone the enchanted sword unsheathes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mightier than yonder Shapes—eternally<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Throned upon light, though crown'd with thorny wreaths;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Changeless amid the Halls of Time; my name<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In heaven is <span class="smcap">Youth</span>, and on the earth is <span class="smcap">Fame</span>,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"All altars need their sacrifice; and mine<span class='linenum'>89</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Asks every bloom in which thy heart delighted.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thorns are my garlands—wouldst thou serve the shrine,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Drear is the faith to which thy vows are plighted.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Asp shall twine, the Vulture watch the prey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Horror rend thee, let but Hope give way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Wilt thou the falchion with the thorns it brings?"<span class='linenum'>90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Yea—for the thorn-wreath hath not dimm'd thy smile."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Lo, thy first offering to the Vulture's wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the Asp's fangs!"—the cold lips answer'd, while<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nearer and nearer the devourers came,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the Dove resting hid the thorns of fame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And all the memories of that faithful guide,<span class='linenum'>91</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The sweet companion of unfriended ways,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When danger threaten'd, ever at his side,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And ever, in the grief of later days,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soothing his heart with its mysterious love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till Ægle's soul seem'd hovering in the Dove,—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All cried aloud in Arthur, and he sprang<span class='linenum'>92</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And sudden from the slaughter snatch'd the prey;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"What!" said the Image, "can a moment's pang<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To the poor worthless favourite of a day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Appal the soul that yearns for ends sublime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aid sighs for empire o'er the world's of Time?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Wilt thou resign the guerdon of the Sword?<span class='linenum'>93</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wilt thou forego the freedom of thy land?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not one slight offering will thy heart accord?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The hero's prize is for the martyr's hand."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Safe on his breast the King replaced the guide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Raised his majestic front, and thus replied:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For Fame and Cymri, what is mine I give.<span class='linenum'>94</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Life;—and brave death prefer to ease and power;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But not for Fame or Cymri would I live<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Soil'd by the stain of one dishonour'd hour;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And man's great cause was ne'er triumphant made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By man's worst meanness—Trust for gain betray'd.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 328]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Let then the rock the Sword for ever sheathe,<span class='linenum'>95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">All blades are charmèd in the Patriot's grasp!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He spoke, and lo! the Statue's thorny wreath<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bloom'd into roses—and each baffled asp<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fell down and died of its own poison-sting,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back to the crag dull-sail'd the death-bird's wing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And from the Statue's smile, as when the morn<span class='linenum'>96</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unlocks the Eastern gates of Paradise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ineffable joy, in light and beauty borne,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flow'd; and the azure of the distant skies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stole through the crimson hues the ruby gave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And slept, like Happiness, on Glory's wave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Go," said the Image, "thou hast won the Sword;<span class='linenum'>97</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">He who thus values Honour more than Fame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Makes Fame itself his servant, not his lord;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the man's heart achieves the hero's claim.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But by Ambition is Ambition tried,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None gain the guerdon who betray the guide!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wondering the Monarch heard, and hearing laid<span class='linenum'>98</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">On the bright hilt-gem the obedient hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift at the touch, leapt forth the diamond blade,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And each long vista lighten'd with the brand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The speaking marble bow'd its reverent head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rose the three Kings—the Dreamer and the Dead;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Voices far off, as in the heart of heaven,<span class='linenum'>99</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hymn'd, "Hail, Fame-Conqueror in the Halls of Time;"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deep as to hell the flaming vaults were riven;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">High as to angels, space on space sublime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Open'd, and flash'd upon the mortal's eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Morning Land of Immortality.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bow'd down before the intolerable light,<span class='linenum'>100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sank on his knees the King; and humbly veil'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Home of Seraphs from the human sight;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then the freed soul forsook him, as it hail'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through Flesh, its prison-house,—the spirit-choir;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fled as flies the music from the lyre.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And all was blank, and meaningless, and void;<span class='linenum'>101</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">For the dull form, abandon'd thus below,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scarcely it felt the closing waves that buoy'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Its limbs, light-drifting down the gentle flow—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when the conscious life return'd again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, noon lay tranquil on the ocean main.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 329]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As from a dream he woke, and look'd around,<span class='linenum'>102</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">For the lost Lake and Ægle's distant grave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But dark, behind, the silent headlands frown'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And bright, before him, smiled the murmuring wave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His right hand rested on the falchion won;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the Dove pruned her pinions in the sun.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 330]</span></p> + +<h2>BOOK VIII.</h2> + +<h4>ARGUMENT.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Lancelot continues to watch for Arthur till the eve of the following day, +when a Damsel approaches the Lake—Lancelot's discreet behaviour thereon, +and how the Knight and the Damsel converse—The Damsel tells her tale—Upon +her leaving Lancelot, the fairy ring commands the Knight to desert +his watch, and follow the Maiden—The story returns to Arthur, who, +wandering by the sea-shore, perceives a bark with the Raven flag of the sea-kings—The +Dove enjoins him to enter it—The Ship is deserted, and he waits +the return of the Crew—Sleep falls upon him—The consoling Vision of Ægle—What +befalls Arthur on waking—Meanwhile Sir Gawaine pursues his +voyage to the shrine of Freya, at which he is to be sacrificed—How the +Hound came to bear him company—Sir Gawaine argues with the Viking on +the inutility of roasting him—The Viking defends that measure upon philosophical +and liberal principles, and silences Gawaine—The Ship arrives at its +destination—Gawaine is conducted to the shrine of Freya—The Statue of the +Goddess described—Gawaine's remarks thereon, and how he is refuted and +enlightened by the Chief Priest—Sir Gawaine is bound, and in reply to his +natural curiosity the Priest explains how he and the Dog are to be roasted +and devoured—The sagacious proceedings of the Dog—Sir Gawaine fails in +teaching the Dog the duty of Fraternization—The Priest re-enters, and Sir +Gawaine, with much satisfaction, gets the best of the Argument—Concluding +Stanzas to Nature.</p></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lone by the lake reclined young Lancelot—<span class='linenum'>1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Night pass'd, the noonday slept on wave and plain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lone by the lake watch'd patient Lancelot;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Like Faith assured that Love returns again.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Noon glided on to eve; when from the brake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brushed a light step, and paused beside the lake.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How lovely to the margin of the wave<span class='linenum'>2</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The shy-eyed Virgin came! and, all unwitting<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The unseen Knight, to the frank sunbeam gave<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her sunny hair—its snooded braids unknitting;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, fearless, as the Naiad by her well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sleeked the loose tresses, glittering where they fell.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, playful now, the sandal silks unbound,<span class='linenum'>3</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Oft from the cool fresh wave with coy retreat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrinking,—and glancing with arch looks around,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The crystal gleameth with her ivory feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like floating swan-plumes, or the leaves that quiver<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From water-lilies, under Himera's river.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 331]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah happy Knight, unscath'd, such charms espying,<span class='linenum'>4</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As brought but death to the profane of yore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Dian's maids to angry quivers flying<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pierced the bold heart presuming to adore!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas! the careless archer they disdain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can slay as surely, though with longer pain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But worthy of his bliss, the loyal Knight,<span class='linenum'>5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pure from all felon thoughts as Knights should be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Revering, anger'd at his own delight,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The lone, unconscious, guardless modesty,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rose, yet unseen, and to the copse hard by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stole with quick footstep and averted eye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But as one tremour of the summer boughs<span class='linenum'>6</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Scares the shy fawn, so with that faintest sound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Virgin starts, and back from rosy brows<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flings wide the showering gold; and all around<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Casts the swift trouble of her looks, to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The white plume glisten through the rustling tree.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As by some conscious instinct of the fear<span class='linenum'>7</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">He caused, the Knight turns back his reverent gaze;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in soft accents, tuned to Lady's ear<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In gentle courts, her purposed flight delays;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So nobly timid in his look and tone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if the power to harm were all her own.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lady and liege, O fly not thus thy slave;<span class='linenum'>8</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">If he offend, unwilling the offence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For safer not upon the unsullying wave<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Doth thy pure image rest, than Innocence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the clear thoughts of noble men!" He said;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And low, with downcast lids, replied the maid.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">[Oh, from those lips how strangely musical<span class='linenum'>9</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sounds the loathed language of the Saxon foe!]<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Though on mine ear the Cymrian accents fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And in my speech, O Cymrian, thou wilt know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Daughter of the Saxon; marvel not,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That less I fear thee in this lonely spot<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Than hadst thou spoken in my mother-tongue,<span class='linenum'>10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or worn the aspect of my father-race."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here to her eyes some tearful memory sprung,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And youth's glad sunshine vanish'd from her face;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the changed sky, the gleams of April leave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or the quick coming of an Indian eve.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 332]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Moved, yet embolden'd by that mild distress,<span class='linenum'>11</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Near the fair shape the gentle Cymrian drew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bent o'er the hand his pity dared to press,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And soothed the sorrow ere the cause he knew.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Frank were those times of trustful Chevisaunce,<a name="FNanchor_1_148" id="FNanchor_1_148"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_148" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hearts when guileless open to a glance.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So see them seated by the haunted lake,<span class='linenum'>12</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">She on the grassy bank, her sylvan throne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He at her feet—and out from every brake<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Forest-Angels singing:—All alone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Nature and the Beautiful—and Youth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pure in each soul as, in her fountain, Truth!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And thus her tale the Teuton maid begun:<span class='linenum'>13</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Daughter of Harold, Mercia's Earl, am I.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Small need to tell to Knighthood's Christian son<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What creed of wrath the Saxons sanctify.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With songs first chaunted in some thunder-field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stern nurses rock'd me in my father's shield.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Motherless both,—my playmate, sole and sweet,<span class='linenum'>14</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Years—sex, the same, was Crida's youngest child,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Crida, the Mercian Ealder-King) our feet<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Roved the same pastures when the Mead-month<a name="FNanchor_2_149" id="FNanchor_2_149"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_149" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> smiled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the same hearth we paled to Saga runes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When wolves descending howl'd to icy moons.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"As side by side, two osiers o'er a stream,<span class='linenum'>15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">When air is still, with separate foliage bend;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But let a breezelet blow, and straight they seem<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With trembling branches into one to blend:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So grew our natures,—when in calm, apart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in each care, commingling, heart to heart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Her soul was bright and tranquil as a bird<span class='linenum'>16</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That hangs with silent wing in breathless heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The plumes of mine the faintest zephyr stirr'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Light with each impulse by the moment given;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blithe as the insect of the summer hours,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Child of the beam, and playmate of the flowers.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thus into youth we grew, when Crida bore<span class='linenum'>17</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Home from fierce wars a British Woman-slave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A lofty captive, who her sorrow wore<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As Queens a mantle; yet not proud, though grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And grave as if with pity for the foe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too high for anger, too resign'd for woe.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 333]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Our hearts grew haunted by that patient face,<span class='linenum'>18</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And much we schemed to soothe the sense of thrall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She learn'd to love us,—let our love replace<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That she had lost,—and thank'd her God for all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even for chains and bondage:—awed we heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And found the secret in the Gospel Word.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thus, Cymrian, we were Christians. First, the slave<span class='linenum'>19</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Taught that bright soul whose shadow fell on mine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus we were Christians;—but, as through the cave<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flow hidden river-springs, the Faith Divine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We dared not give to-day—in stealth we sung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hymns to the Cymrian's God, in Cymri's tongue.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And for our earlier names of heathen sound<span class='linenum'>20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">We did such names as saints have borne receive;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One name in truth, though with a varying sound;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Genevra I—and she sweet Genevieve,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Words that escaped from other ears, unknown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But spoke as if from angels to our own.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Soon with thy creed we learn'd thy race to love,<span class='linenum'>21</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Listening high tales of Arthur's peerless fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But most such themes did my sweet playmate move;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To her the creed endear'd the champion's name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With angel thoughts surrounded Christ's young chief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gave to Glory haloes from Belief.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Not long our teacher did survive, to guide<span class='linenum'>22</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Our feet, delighted in the new-found ways;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smiling on us—and on the cross—she died,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And vanish'd in her grave our infant days;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We grew to woman when we learn'd to grieve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Childhood left the eyes of Genevieve.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oft, ev'n from me, musing she stole away,<span class='linenum'>23</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where thick the woodland girt the ruin'd hall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Cymrian kings, forgotten;—through the day<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still as the lonely nightingale midst all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The joyous choir that drown her murmur:—So<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mused Crida's daughter on the Saxon's foe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Alas! alas! (sad moons have waned since then!)<span class='linenum'>24</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">One fatal morn her forest haunt she sought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor thence return'd: whether by lawless men<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Captured, or flying of her own free thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From heathen shrines abhorr'd;—all search was vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ne'er to our eyes that smile brought light again."<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 334]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here paused the maid, and tears gush'd forth anew,<span class='linenum'>25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ere faltering words rewove the tale once more;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Roused from his woe, the wrathful Crida flew<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To Thor's dark priests, and Odin's wizard lore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Task'd was each rune that sways the demon hosts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the strong seid<a name="FNanchor_3_150" id="FNanchor_3_150"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_150" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> compell'd revealing ghosts.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And answer'd priest and rune, and the pale Dead,<span class='linenum'>26</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">'That in the fate of her, the Thor-descended,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Gods of Cymri wove a mystic thread,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With Arthur's life and Cymri's glory blended,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Dragon-Kings, ordain'd in clouded years,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To seize the birthright of the Saxon spears.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'By Arthur's death, and Carduel's towers o'erthrown,<span class='linenum'>27</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Could Thor and Crida yet the web unweave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Protect the Saxon's threaten'd gods;—alone<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Regain the lost one, and exulting leave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Hengist's race the ocean-girt abodes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the Last Twilight<a name="FNanchor_4_151" id="FNanchor_4_151"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_151" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> darken round the Gods.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"This heard and this believed, the direful King<span class='linenum'>28</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Convenes his Eorl-born and prepares his powers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Relates the omens, and the tasks they bring,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And points the Valkyrs to the Cymrian towers.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dreadest in war—and wisest in the hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stands my great Sire—the Saxon's Herman-Saul.<a name="FNanchor_5_152" id="FNanchor_5_152"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_152" class="fnanchor">[5]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He to secure allies beyond the sea<span class='linenum'>29</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Departs—but first (for well he loved his child)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He drew me to his breast, and tenderly<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Chiding my tears, he spoke, and speaking smil'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Whate'er betides thy father or thy land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far from our dangers Astrild<a name="FNanchor_6_153" id="FNanchor_6_153"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_153" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> woos thy hand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Beorn, the bold son of Sweyn, the Göthland king<span class='linenum'>30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose ocean war-steeds on the Baltic deeps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Range their blue pasture—for thy love shall bring<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As nuptial-gifts, to Cymri's mountain keeps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arm'd men and thunder. Happy is the maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose charms lure armies to her Country's aid<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What, while I heard, the terror and the woe,<span class='linenum'>31</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of one who, vow'd to the meek Christian God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Found the Earth's partner in the Heaven's worst foe!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For ne'er o'er blazing altars Slaughter trod<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Redder with blood of saints remorsely slain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than Beorn, the Incarnate Fenris<a name="FNanchor_7_154" id="FNanchor_7_154"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_154" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> of the main.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 335]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yet than such nuptials more I fear'd the frown<span class='linenum'>32</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of my dread father;—motionless I stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rigid in horror, mutely bending down<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The eyes that dared not weep.—So Solitude<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Found me, a thing made soul-less by despair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till tears broke way, and with the tears flow'd prayer."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Again Genevra paused: and, beautiful<span class='linenum'>33</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As Art hath imaged Faith, look'd up to heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With eyes that glistening smiled. Along the lull<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of air, waves sigh'd—the winds of stealing Even<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Murmur'd, birds sung, the leaflet rustling stirr'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His own loud heart was all the list'ner heard.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Scarce did my Sire return (his mission done),<span class='linenum'>34</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To loose the Valkyrs on the Cymrian foe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then came the galley which the sea-king's son<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sent for the partner of his realms of snow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shuddering, recoiling, forth I stole at night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the wide forest with wild thoughts of flight.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I reach'd the ruin'd halls wherein so oft<span class='linenum'>35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lost Genevieve had mused lone hours away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When halting wistful there, a strange and soft<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Slumber fell o'er me, or, more sooth to say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A slumber not, but rather on my soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A life-dream clear as hermit-visions stole.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I saw an aged and majestic form,<span class='linenum'>36</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Robed in the spotless weeds thy Druids wear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I heard a voice deep as when coming storm<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sends its first murmur through the heaving air:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Return,' it said, 'return, and dare the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Eye that sleeps not looks from heaven on thee.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The form was gone, the Voice was hush'd, and grief<span class='linenum'>37</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fled from my heart; I trusted and obey'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weak still, my weakness leant on my belief;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I saw the sails unfurl, the headlands fade;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw my father, last upon the strand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Veiling proud sorrow with his iron hand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Swift through the ocean clove the flashing prows<span class='linenum'>38</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And half the dreaded course was glided o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, as the wolves, which night and winter rouse<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In cavernous lairs, from seas without a shore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clouds swept the skies; and the swift hurricane<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rush'd from the North along the maddening main.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 336]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Startled from sleep upon the verge of doom,<span class='linenum'>39</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With wild cry, shrilling through the wilder blast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Uprose the seamen, ghostlike through the gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hurrying and helpless; while the sail-less mast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now lightning-wreathed, now indistinct and pale<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bow'd, or, rebounding, groan'd against the gale,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And crash'd at last;—its sullen thunder drown'd<span class='linenum'>40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the great storm that snapp'd it. Over all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swept the long surges, and a gurgling sound<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Told where some wretch, that strove in vain to call<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For aid, where all were aidless, through the spray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Emerging, gasp'd, and then was whirl'd away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But I, who ever wore upon my heart<span class='linenum'>41</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The symbol cross of Him who walk'd the seas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bow'd o'er that sign my head; and pray'd apart:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When through the darkness, on his crawling knees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crept to my side the chief, and crouch'd him there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mild as an infant, listening to my prayer.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And, clinging to my robes, 'Thee have I seen,'<span class='linenum'>42</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Faltering he said, 'when round thee coil'd the blue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lightning, and rush'd the billow-swoop, serene<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And scathless smiling; surely then I knew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, strong in charms or runes that guard and save,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou mock'st the whirlwind and the roaring grave!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Shield us, young Vala, from the wrath of Ran,<span class='linenum'>43</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And calm the raging Helheim of the deep.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As from a voice within, I answer'd, 'Man,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor rune nor charm locks into mortal sleep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Present God; by Faith all ills are braved;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trust in that God; adore Him, and be saved."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then, pliant to my will, the ghastly crew<span class='linenum'>44</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Crept round the cross, amid the howling dark—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dark, save when swift and sharp, and griding<a name="FNanchor_8_155" id="FNanchor_8_155"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_155" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> through<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The cloud-mass, clove the lightning, and the bark<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flash'd like a floating hell; low by that sign<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All knelt, and voices hollow-chimed to mine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thus as we pray'd, lo, open'd all the Heaven,<span class='linenum'>45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With one long steadfast splendour——calmly o'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The God-Cross resting: then the clouds were riven<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the rains fell; the whirlwind hush'd its roar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the smooth'd billows on the ocean's breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As on a mother's, sighing, sunk to rest.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 337]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"So came the dawn: o'er the new Christian fold,<span class='linenum'>46</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Glad as the Heavenly Shepherd, smiled the sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then to those grateful hearts my tale I told,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The heathen bonds the Christian maid should shun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pray'd in turn their aid my soul to save<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From doom more dismal than a sinless grave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"They, with one shout, proclaim their law my will,<span class='linenum'>47</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And veer the prow from northern snows afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon gentler winds the murmuring canvas fill,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fair floats the bark where guides the western star.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From coast to coast we pass'd, and peaceful sail'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into lone creeks, by yon blue mountains veil'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Here all wide-scatter'd up the inward land<span class='linenum'>48</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">For stores and water, range the blithesome crew;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lured by the smiling shores, one gentler band<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I join'd awhile, then left them, to pursue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mine own glad fancies, where the brooklet clear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shot singing onwards to the sunlit mere.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And so we chanced to meet!" She ceased, and bent<span class='linenum'>49</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Down the fresh rose-hues of her eloquent cheek;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere Lancelot spoke, the startled echo sent<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Loud shouts reverberate, lengthening, plain to peak;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sounds proclaim the savage followers near,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And straight the rose-hues pale,—but not from fear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Slowly Genevra rose, and her sweet eyes<span class='linenum'>50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Raised to the Knight's, frankly and mournfully;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Farewell," she said, "the wingèd moment flies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who shall say whither?—if this meeting be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our last as first, O Christian warrior, take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Saxon's greeting for the Christian's sake.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And if, returning to thy perill'd land,<span class='linenum'>51</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the hot fray thy sword confront my Sire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strike not—remember me!" On her fair hand<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Cymrian seals his lips; wild thoughts inspire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Words which the lips may speak not:—but what truth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lies hid when youth reflects its soul in youth!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Reluctant turns Genevra, lingering turns,<span class='linenum'>52</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And up the hill, oft pausing, languid wends.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As infant flame through humid fuel burns,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In Lancelot's heart with honour, love contends;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Longs to pursue, regain, and cry, "Where'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou wanderest, lead me; Paradise is there!"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 338]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the lost Arthur!—at that thought, the strength<span class='linenum'>53</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of duty nerved the loyal sentinel:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So by the lake watch'd Lancelot;—at length<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Upon the ring his looks, in drooping, fell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And see, the hand, no more in dull repose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Points to the path in which Genevra goes!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Amazed, and wrathful at his own delight,<span class='linenum'>54</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">He doubts, he hopes, he moves, and still the ring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Repeats the sweet command, and bids the Knight<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pursue the Maid as if to find the King.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yielding at last, though half remorseful still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Cymrian follows up the twilight hill.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Meanwhile along the beach of the wide sea,<span class='linenum'>55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The dove-led pilgrim wander'd,—needful food,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Mænad's fruits from many a purple tree<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flush'd for the vintage, gave; with musing mood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lonely he strays till Æthra<a name="FNanchor_9_156" id="FNanchor_9_156"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_156" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> sees again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her starry children smiling on the main.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Around him then, curved grew the hollow creek;<span class='linenum'>56</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Before, a ship lay still with lagging sail;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A gilded serpent glitter'd from the beak,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Along the keel encoil'd with lengthening trail;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Black from a brazen staff, with outstretch'd wings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soar'd the dread Raven of the Runic kings.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here paused the Wanderer, for here flew the Dove<span class='linenum'>57</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To the tall mast, and, murmuring, hover'd o'er;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But on the deck no watch, no pilot move,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Life-void the vessel as the lonely shore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far on the sand-beach drawn, a boat he spied,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with strong hand he launch'd it on the tide.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gaining the bark, still not a human eye<span class='linenum'>58</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Peers through the noiseless solitary shrouds;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, for the crew's return, all patiently<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He sate him down, and watch'd the phantom clouds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flit to and fro, where o'er the slopes afar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reign storm-girt Arcas,<a name="FNanchor_10_157" id="FNanchor_10_157"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_157" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> and the Mother Star.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus sleep stole o'er him, mercy-hallow'd sleep;<span class='linenum'>59</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">His own loved Ægle, lovelier than of old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, lovelier far—shone from the azure deep—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And like the angel dying saints behold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bent o'er his brow, and with ambrosial kiss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breathed on his soul her own pure spirit-bliss.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 339]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Never more grieve for me," the Vision said,<span class='linenum'>60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Behold how beautiful thy bride is now!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who to yon Heaven from heathen Hades led<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Me, thine Immortal? Mourner, it was thou!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why shouldst thou mourn? In the empyreal clime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We know no severance, for we own no time.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Both in the Past and Future circumfused,<span class='linenum'>61</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">We live in each;—all life's more happy hours<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bloom back for us;—all prophet Fancy mused<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fairest in days to come, alike are ours:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With me not yet—I ever am with thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy presence flows through my eternity.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Think thou hast bless'd the earth, and oped the heaven<span class='linenum'>62</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To her baptized, reborn, through thy dear love,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the new buds that bloom for thee, be given<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The fragrance of the primal flower above!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Heaven we are not jealous!—But in aught<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That heals remembrance and revives the thought,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"That makes the life more beautiful, we bind<span class='linenum'>63</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Those who survive us in a closer chain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In all that glads we feel ourselves enshrined;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In all that loves, our love but lives again."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Anew she kiss'd his brow, and at her smile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Night and Creation brighten'd! He the while,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stretch'd his vain arms, and clasp'd the mocking air,<span class='linenum'>64</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And from the rapture woke!<a name="FNanchor_11_158" id="FNanchor_11_158"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_158" class="fnanchor">[11]</a>—All fiercely round<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Group savage forms, amidst the lurid glare<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of lifted torches, red; fierce tongues resound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Discordant, clamouring hoarse—as birds of prey<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scared by man's footstep in some desolate bay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mild through the throng a bright-hair'd Virgin came,<span class='linenum'>65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the roar hush'd;—while to the Virgin's breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft-cooing fled the Dove. His own great name<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rang through the ranks behind; quick footsteps press'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(As through arm'd lines a warrior) to the spot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to the King knelt radiant Lancelot.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here for a while the wild and fickle song<span class='linenum'>66</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Leaves the crown'd Seeker of the Silver Shield;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy fates, O Gawaine, done to grievous wrong<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By the black guide perfidious, be reveal'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nearing, poor Knight, the Cannibalian shrine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Freya scents thee, and prepares to dine.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 340]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Left by a bride, and outraged by a raven,<span class='linenum'>67</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">One friend still shared the injured captive's lot;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, as the vessel left the Cymrian haven,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The faithful hound, whom he had half forgot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swam to the ship, clomb up the sides on board,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Snarl'd at the Danes, and nestled by his lord.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The hirsute Captain, not displeased to see a<span class='linenum'>68</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">New <i>bonne bouche</i> added to the destined roast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His floating larder had prepared for Freya,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Welcomed the dog, as Charon might a ghost;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Allow'd the beast to share his master's platter,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And daily eyed them both,—and thought them fatter!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ev'n in such straits, the Knight of golden tongue<span class='linenum'>69</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Confronts his foe with arguings just and sage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether in pearls from deeps Druidic strung,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or link'd synthetic from the Stagirite's page,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Labouring to show him how absurd the notion,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That roasting Gawaine would affect the Ocean.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But that enlighten'd though unlearnèd man,<span class='linenum'>70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Posed all the lore Druidical or Attic;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"One truth," quoth he, "instructs the Sons of Ran<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(A seaman race are always democratic),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That truth once known, all else is worthless lumber:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'<span class="smcap">The greatest pleasure of the greatest number</span>.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"No pleasure like a Christian roasted slowly,<span class='linenum'>71</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To Odin's greatest number can be given;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The will of freemen to the gods is holy;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The People's voice must be the voice of Heaven.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On selfish principles you chafe at capture,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But what are private pangs to public rapture?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"You doubt that giving you as food for Freya<span class='linenum'>72</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Will have much mark'd effect upon the seas;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let's grant you right:—all pleasure's in idea;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If thousands think it, you the thousands please.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your private interest must not be the guide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When interests clash majorities decide."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">These doctrines, wise, and worthy of the race<span class='linenum'>73</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">From whose free notions modern freedom flows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bore with such force of reasoning on the case,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They left the Knight dumbfounded at the close;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Foil'd in the weapons which he most had boasted,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He felt sound logic proved he should be roasted.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 341]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Discreetly waiving farther conversations,<span class='linenum'>74</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">He, henceforth, silent lived his little hour;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Indulged at times such soothing meditations,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As, "Flesh is grass,"—and "Life is but a flower."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For men, like swans, have strains most edifying,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They never think of till the time for dying.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now at last, the fatal voyage o'er,<span class='linenum'>75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sir Gawaine hears the joyous shout of "Land!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two Vikings lead him courteously on shore:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A crowd as courteous wait him on the strand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fifes, viols, trumpets braying, screaming, strumming,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flatter his ears, and compliment his coming.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Right on the shore the gracious temple stands,<span class='linenum'>76</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Form'd like a ship, and budded but of log;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thither at once the hospitable bands<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lead the grave Knight and unsuspicious dog,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which, greatly pleased to walk on land once more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swells with unprescient bark the tuneful roar.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Six Priests and one tall Priestess clothed in white,<span class='linenum'>77</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Advance—and meet them at the porch divine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With seven loud shrieks, they pounce upon the Knight,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whisk'd by the Priests behind the inmost shrine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the tall Priestess asks the congregation<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To come at dawn to witness the oblation.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though somewhat vex'd at this so brief delay—<span class='linenum'>78</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yet as the rites, in truth, required preparing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The flock obedient took themselves away;—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Meanwhile the Knight was on the Idol staring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not without wonder at the tastes terrestrial<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which in that image hail'd a shape celestial.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Full thirty ells in height—the goddess stood<span class='linenum'>79</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Based on a column of the bones of men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Daub'd was her face with clots of human blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her jaws as wide as is a tiger's den;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With giant fangs as strong and huge as those<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That cranch the reeds, through which the sea-horse goes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Right reverend Sir," quoth he of golden tongue,<span class='linenum'>80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"A most majestic gentlewoman this!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it the Freya,<a name="FNanchor_12_159" id="FNanchor_12_159"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_159" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> whom your scalds have sung,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Goddess of love and sweet connubial bliss?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If so—despite her very noble carriage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her charms are scarce what youth desires in marriage."<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 342]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Stranger," said one who seem'd the hierarch-priest—<span class='linenum'>81</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"In that sublime, symbolical creation,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The outward image but conveys the least<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of Freya's claims on human veneration—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But (thine own heart if Love hath ever glow'd in),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou'lt own that Love is quite as fierce as Odin!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hence, as the cause of full one half our quarrels,<span class='linenum'>82</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Freya with Odin shares the rites of blood;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In this—thou seest a hidden depth of morals,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But by the vulgar little understood;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We do not roast thee in an idle frolic!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But as a type mysterious and symbolic."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Hierarch motions to the priests around,<span class='linenum'>83</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">They bind the victim to the Statue's base,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, to the Knight they link the wondering hound,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Some three yards distant—looking face to face.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"One word," said Gawaine—"ere your worships quit us,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How is it meant that Freya is to eat us?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Stranger," replied the Priest, "albeit we hold<span class='linenum'>84</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Such questions idle, and perhaps profane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet much the wise will pardon to the bold—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When what they ask 'tis easy to explain—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still typing Truth, and shaped with sacred art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We place a furnace in the statue's heart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"That furnace heated by mechanic laws<span class='linenum'>85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which gods to priests for godlike ends permit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We lay the victim bound across the jaws,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And let him slowly turn upon a spit;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The jaws—(when done to what we think their liking)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Close;—all is over:—The effect is striking!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At that recital, made in tone complacent,<span class='linenum'>86</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The frozen Knight stared speechless and aghast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stared on those jaws to which he was subjacent,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And felt the grinders cranch on their repast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meanwhile the Priest said—"Keep your spirits up,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ere I go, say when you'd like to sup?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Sup!" falter'd out the melancholy Knight,<span class='linenum'>87</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Sup! pious Sir—no trouble there, I pray!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Good though I grant my natural appetite,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The thought of Freya's takes it all away:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As for the dog—poor, unenlighten'd glutton,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blind to the future,—let him have his mutton."<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 343]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Tis night: behold the dog and man alone!<span class='linenum'>88</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The man hath said his thirtieth <i>noster pater</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dog has supp'd, and having pick'd his bone<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(The meat was salted), feels a wish for water;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Puts out in vain a reconnoitring paw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feels the cord, smells it, and begins to gnaw.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Abash'd Philosophy, that dog survey!<span class='linenum'>89</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou call'st on freemen—bah! expand thy scope;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"<i>Aide-toi toi-même, et Dieu t'aidera!</i>"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Doth thraldom bind thee?—gnaw thyself the rope.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whatever Laws, and Kings, and States may be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wise men in earnest can be always free.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By a dim lamp upon the altar stone<span class='linenum'>90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sir Gawaine mark'd the inventive work canine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Cords bind us both—the dog has gnaw'd his own;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O Dog skoinophagous<a name="FNanchor_13_160" id="FNanchor_13_160"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_160" class="fnanchor">[13]</a>—a tooth for mine!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And both may 'scape that too-refining Goddess<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who roasts to types what Nature meant for bodies."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sir Gawaine calls the emancipated hound,<span class='linenum'>91</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And strives to show his own illegal ties;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Explaining how free dogs, themselves unbound,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With all who would be free should fraternize—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dog look'd puzzled, lick'd the fetter'd hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prick'd up his ears—but would not understand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The unhappy Knight perceived the hope was o'er,<span class='linenum'>92</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And did again to fate his soul resign;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When hark! a footstep, and an opening door,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And lo, once more, the Hierarch of the shrine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dog his growl at Gawaine's whisper ceased,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dog and Knight, both silent, watch'd the priest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The subtle captive saw with much content<span class='linenum'>93</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">No sacred comrades had that reverend man;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath a load of sacred charcoal bent,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Priest approach'd; when Gawaine thus began:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It shames me much to see you thus bent double,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And feel myself the cause of so much trouble.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Doth Freya's kitchen, ventrical and holy,<span class='linenum'>94</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Afford no meaner scullion to prepare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The festive rites?—on you depends it wholly<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To heat the oven and to dress the fare?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"To hands less pure are given the outward things,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Hierarchs only, the interior springs,"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 344]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Replied the Priest—"and till my task be o'er,<span class='linenum'>95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">All else intruding, wrath divine incur."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir Gawaine heard and not a sentence more<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sir Gawaine said, than—"Up and seize him, Sir,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sprung at the word, the dog; and in a trice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Griped the Priest's throat and lock'd it like a vice.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Pardon, my sacred friend," then quoth the Knight,<span class='linenum'>96</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"You are not strangled from an idle frolic,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When bit the biter, you'll confess the bite<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is full of sense, mordacious but symbolic;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In roasting men, O culinary brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Learn this grand truth—'one turn deserves another!'"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Extremely pleased, the oratoric Knight<span class='linenum'>97</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Regain'd the vantage he had lost so long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For sore, till then, had been his just despite<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That Northern wit should foil his golden tongue.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, in debate how proud was his condition,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The opponent posed and by his own position!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Therefore, with more than his habitual breeding,<span class='linenum'>98</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Resumed benignantly the bland Gawaine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While much the Priest, against the dog's proceeding<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With stifling gasps protested, but in vain—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Friend—(softly, dog; so—ho!) Thou must confess<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our selfish interests bid us coalesce.—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Unknit these cords; and, once unloosed the knot,<span class='linenum'>99</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">I pledge my troth to call the hound away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thou accede—a show of hands! if not<br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>That</i> dog at least I fear must have his day."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High in the air, both hands at once appear!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Carried, <i>nem. con.</i>,—Dog, fetch him,—gently, here!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not without much persuasion yields the hound!<span class='linenum'>100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Loosens the throat, to gripe the sacred vest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Priest," quoth Gawaine, "remember, but a sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And straight the dog—let fancy sketch the rest!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Priest, by fancy too dismay'd already,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fumbles the knot with fingers far from steady.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hoarse, while he fumbles, growls the dog suspicious,<span class='linenum'>101</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not liking such close contact to his Lord<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(The best of friends are sometimes too officious,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And grudge all help save that themselves afford).<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His hands set free, the Knight assists the Priest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, <i>finis, funis</i>, stands at last released.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 345]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">True to his word—and party coalitions,<span class='linenum'>102</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Knight then kicks aside the dog, of course;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Salutes the foe, and states the new conditions<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The facts connected with the times enforce;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All coalitions nat'rally denote<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The State-Metempsychosis—change of coat!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ergo," quoth Gawaine,—"first, the sacred cloak;<span class='linenum'>103</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Next, when two parties, but concur <i>pro temp.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their joint opinions only should be spoke<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By that which has most cause to fear the hemp.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherefore, my friend, this scarf supplies the gag<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To keep the cat symbolic—in the bag!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So said, so done, before the Priest was able<span class='linenum'>104</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To prove his counter interest in the case,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Knight had bound him with the victim's cable!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Closed up his mouth and cover'd up his face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His sacred robe with hands profane had taken,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And left him that which Gawaine had forsaken.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then Gawaine stepp'd into the blissful air,<span class='linenum'>105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Oh, the bright wonder of the Northern Night!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Ocean's heart of music heaving there,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Under its starry robe!—and all the might<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of rock and shore, and islet deluge-riven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Distinctly dark against the lustrous heaven!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Calm lay the large rude Nature of the North,<span class='linenum'>106</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Glad as when first the stars rejoicing sang,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fresh as when from kindling Chaos forth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(A thought of God) the young Creation sprang;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When man in all the present Father found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for the Temple, paused and look'd around!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nature, thou earliest Gospel of the Wise,<span class='linenum'>107</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou never-silent Hymner unto God!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou Angel-Ladder lost amid the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Though at the foot we dream upon the sod!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To thee the Priesthood of the Lyre belong—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They hear Religion and reply in Song!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If he hath held thy worship undefiled<span class='linenum'>108</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through all the sins and sorrows of his youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let the Man echo what he heard as Child<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the far hill-tops of melodious Truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaving on troubled hearts some lingering tone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet with the solace thou hast given his own!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 346]</span></p> + +<h2>BOOK IX.</h2> + +<h4>ARGUMENT.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Invocation to the North—Winter, Labour, and Necessity, as agents of +Civilization—The Polar Seas described—The lonely Ship; its Leader and +Crew—Honour due from Song to the Discoverer!—The battle with the +Walruses—The crash of the floating Icebergs—The ship ice-locked—Arthur's +address to the Norwegian Crew—They abandon the vessel and reach land—The +Dove finds the healing herb—Returns to the Ship, which is broken up +for log-huts—The winter deepens—The sufferings and torpor of the crew—The +effect of Will upon life—Will preserves us from ills our own, not from +sympathy with the ills of others—Man in his higher development has a two-fold +nature—in his imagination and his feelings—Imagination is lonely, +Feeling social—The strange affection between the King and the Dove—The +King sets forth to explore the desert; his joy at recognizing the print of +human feet—The attack of the Esquimaux—The meeting between Arthur +and his friend—The crew are removed to the ice-huts of the Esquimaux—The +adventures of Sir Gawaine continued—His imposture in passing himself +off as a priest of Freya—He exorcises the winds which the Norwegian hags +had tied up in bags—And accompanies the Whalers to the North Seas—The +storm—How Gawaine and his hound are saved—He delivers the Pigmies +from the Bears, and finally establishes himself in the Settlement of the +Esquimaux—Philosophical controversy between Arthur and Gawaine, relative +to the Raven—Arthur briefly explains how he came into the Polar Seas +in search of the Shield of Thor—Lancelot and Genevra having sailed for +Carduel—Gawaine informs Arthur that the Esquimaux have a legend of a +Shield guarded by a Dwarf—The first appearance of the Polar Sun above the +horizon.</p></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Throned on the dazzling and untrodden height,<span class='linenum'>1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Form'd of the frost-gems ages<a name="FNanchor_1_161" id="FNanchor_1_161"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_161" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> labour forth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the blanch'd air,—crown'd with the pomp of light<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I' the midst of dark,—stern Father of the North,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee I invoke, as, awed, my steps profane<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dumb gates opening on thy death-like reign!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here did the venturous Ithacan<a name="FNanchor_2_162" id="FNanchor_2_162"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_162" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> explore,<span class='linenum'>2</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Amidst the dusky, wan, Cimmerian waste,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Ocean's farthest bounds—the spectre shore<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Trod by the Dead, and vainly here embraced<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Phantom Mother. Pause, look round, survey<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ghastly realm beyond the shafts of Day.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 347]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Magnificent Horror!—How like royal Death<span class='linenum'>3</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Broods thy great hush above the seeds of Life!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the snow-mass cleaves thine icy breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And, with the birth of fairy forests rife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blushes the world of white;<a name="FNanchor_3_163" id="FNanchor_3_163"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_163" class="fnanchor">[3]</a>—the green that glads<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wave, is but the march of myriads;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There, immense, moves uncouth leviathan;<span class='linenum'>4</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">There, from the hollows of phantasmal isles,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The morse<a name="FNanchor_4_164" id="FNanchor_4_164"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_164" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> emerging rears the face of man,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">There, the huge bear scents, miles on desolate miles,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The basking seal;—and ocean shallower grows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where, through its world, a world, the kraken goes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Father of races, marching at the van<span class='linenum'>5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the great league and armament of Thought;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Eastern stars grew dim to drooping man,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And waned the antique light Prometheus brought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The North beheld the new Alcides rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unbind the Titan and relight the skies.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Imperial <span class="smcap">Winter</span>, hail!—All hail with thee<span class='linenum'>6</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Labour, the stern Perfecter of Mankind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shaping the ends of human destiny<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Out of the iron of the human mind:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For in our toils our fates we may survey!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And where rests Labour there begins decay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Winter, and Labour, and Necessity,<span class='linenum'>7</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Behold the Three that make us what we are!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forced to invent—aspirers to the High,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nerved to endure—the conquerors of the Far—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So the crude nebula in movement hurl'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Takes form in moving, and becomes a world.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dumb Universe of Winter—there it lies<span class='linenum'>8</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dim through the mist, a spectral skeleton!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far in the wan verge of the solid skies<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hangs day and night the phantom of a moon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And slowly moving on the horizon's brink<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Floats the vast ice-field with its glassy blink.<a name="FNanchor_5_165" id="FNanchor_5_165"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_165" class="fnanchor">[5]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But huge adown the liquid Infinite<span class='linenum'>9</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Drift the sea Andes—by the patient wrath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the strong waves uprooted from their site<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In bays forlorn—and on their winter path<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Themselves a winter) glide, or heavily, where<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They freeze the wind, halt in the inert air.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 348]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nor bird nor beast lessens with visible<span class='linenum'>10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Life, the large awe of space without a sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though in each atom life unseen doth dwell<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And glad with gladness God the Living One.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">He</span> breathes—but breathless hang the airs that freeze!<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">He</span> speaks—but noiseless list the silences!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A lonely ship—lone in the measureless sea,<span class='linenum'>11</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lone in the channel through the frozen steeps,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like some bold thought launch'd on infinity<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By early sage—comes glimmering up the deeps!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dull wave, dirge-like, moans beneath the oar;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dull air heaves with wings that glide before.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From earth's warm precincts, through the sunless gate<span class='linenum'>12</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That guards the central vapour-home of Dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into the heart of the vast Desolate,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lone flies the Dove before the lonely bark.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the crown'd seeker of the glory-spell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Looks to the angel and disdains the hell.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Huddled on deck, one-half that hardy crew<span class='linenum'>13</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lie shrunk and wither'd in the biting sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With filmy stare and lips of livid hue,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And sapless limbs that stiffen as they lie:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the dire pest-scourge of the frozen zone<a name="FNanchor_6_166" id="FNanchor_6_166"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_166" class="fnanchor">[6]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rots through the vein, and gnaws the knotted bone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet still the hero-remnant, sires perchance<span class='linenum'>14</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of Rollo's Norman knighthood, dauntless steer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the deepening horror and advance<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Upon the invisible foe, loud chanting clear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some lusty song of Thor, the Hammer-God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When o'er those iron seas the Thunderer trod,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And pierced the halls of Lok! Still while they sung,<span class='linenum'>15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The sick men lifted dim their languid eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And palely smiled, and with convulsive tongue<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Chimed to the choral chant, in hollow sighs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Living or dying, those proud hearts the same<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swell to the danger, and foretaste the fame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On, ever on, labours the lonely bark,<span class='linenum'>16</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Time in that world seems dead. Nor jocund sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor rosy Hesperus dawns; but visible Dark<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stands round the ghastly moon. For ever on<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Labours the lonely bark, through lock'd defiles<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That crisping coil around the drifting isles.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 349]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Honour, thrice honour unto ye, O Brave!<span class='linenum'>17</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And ye, our England's sons, in the later day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose valour to the shores of Hela gave<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Names,—as the guides where suns deny the ray!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, borne by hope and vivid strength of soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made Man's last landmark Nature's farthest goal!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whom, nor the unmoulded chaos, with its birth<span class='linenum'>18</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of uncouth monsters, nor the fierce disease,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor horrible famine, nor the Stygian dearth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of Orcus dead'ning adamantine seas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scared from the Spirit's grand desire,—<small>TO KNOW</small>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Galileos of new worlds below!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Man the Discoverer—whosoe'er thou art,<span class='linenum'>19</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Honour to thee from all the lyres of song!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Honour to him who leads to Nature's heart<br /></span> +<span class="i1">One footstep nearer! To the Muse belong<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All who enact what in the song we read;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man's noblest poem is Man's bravest deed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On, ever on,—when veering to the West<span class='linenum'>20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Into a broader desert leads the Dove;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A larger ripple stirs the ocean's breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A hazier vapour undulates above;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the ice-fields move the things that live,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Large in the life the misty glamours give.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In flocks the lazy walrus lay around<span class='linenum'>21</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gazing and stolid; while the dismal crane<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stalk'd curious near;—and on the hinder ground<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Paused indistinct the Fenris of the main,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The insatiate bear,—to sniff the stranger blood,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Man till then had vanish'd since the flood,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And all of Man were fearless!—On the sea<span class='linenum'>22</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The vast leviathans came up to breathe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With their young giants leaping forth in glee,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or leaving whirlpools where they sank beneath.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And round and round the bark the narwal<a name="FNanchor_7_167" id="FNanchor_7_167"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_167" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> sweeps,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With white horn glistening through the sluggish deeps.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Uprose a bold Norwegian, hunger-stung,<span class='linenum'>23</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As near the icy marge a walrus lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hurl'd his strong spear, and smote the beast, and sprung<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Upon the frost-field on the wounded prey;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sprung and recoil'd—as writhing with the pangs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bulk crawl'd towards him with its flashing fangs.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 350]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Roused to fell life—around their comrade throng,<span class='linenum'>24</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Snorting wild wrath, the shapeless, grisly swarms—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like moving mounts slow masses trail along;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Aghast the man beholds the larva-forms—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flies—climbs the bark—the deck is scaled—is won;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the monstrous march heaves lengthening on.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Quick to your spears!" the kingly leader cries.<span class='linenum'>25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Spears flash on flashing tusks; groan the strong planks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the assault: front after front they rise<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With their bright<a name="FNanchor_8_168" id="FNanchor_8_168"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_168" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> stare; steel thins in vain their ranks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dyes with blood their birth-place and their grave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mass rolls on mass, as rolls on wave a wave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">These strike and rend the reeling sides below;<span class='linenum'>26</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Those grappling clamber up and load the decks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With looks of wrath so human on the foe,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They seem to horror like the mangled wrecks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of what were men in worlds before the Ark!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus raged the immane and monster war—when, hark,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Crash'd through the dreary air a thunder peal!<span class='linenum'>27</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">In their slow courses meet two ice-rock isles<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clanging; the wide seas far-resounding reel;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The toppling ruin rolls in the defiles;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pent tides quicken with the headlong shock:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Broad-billowing heave the long waves from the rock;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Far down the booming vales precipitous<span class='linenum'>28</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Plunges the stricken galley,—as a steed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smit by the shaft runs reinless,—o'er the prows<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Howl the lash'd surges; Man and monster freed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By power more awful from the savage fray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here roaring sink—there dumbly whirl away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The water runs in maëlstroms;—as a reed<span class='linenum'>29</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Spins in an eddy and then skirs along,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dragg'd round and round, emerged and vanishèd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The mighty ship amidst the mightier throng<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the revolving hell. With abrupt spring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bounding at last—on it shot maddening.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Behind it, thunderous swept the glacier masses,<span class='linenum'>30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shivering and splintering, hurtling each on each:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Narrower and narrower press the frowning passes:—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Jamm'd in the farthest gorge the bark may reach,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the grim Scylla rocks the direful way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fierce Charybdis flings her mangled prey.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 351]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As if a living thing, in every part<span class='linenum'>31</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The vessel groans—and with a dismal chime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cracks to the cracking ice; asunder start<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The brazen ribs:—and clogg'd and freezing, climb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through cleft and chink, as through their native caves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gelid armies of the hardening waves.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One sigh whose lofty pity did embrace<span class='linenum'>32</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The vanish'd many, the surviving few,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Cymrian gave—then with a cheering face<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He spoke, and breathed his soul into the crew:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ye whom the haught desire of Fame, whose air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is storm, and tales of what your fathers were,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What time their valour wrought such deeds below<span class='linenum'>33</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As made the valiant lift them to the gods,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Impell'd with me to spare all meaner foe,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And vanquish'd Nature in the fiend's abodes;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Droop not nor faint!—Reserved, perchance, to give<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Themes to such song as bids your Odin live:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A voice from those now gone in darkness down,<span class='linenum'>34</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bids us endure!—Of all they ask'd in life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our death would rob their lofty shades—<span class="smcap">Renown</span>!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The wave hath pluck'd us from the monster strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo where the icebay frees us from the wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yields a port in what we deem'd a grave!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Up and at work all hands to lash the bark<span class='linenum'>35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With grappling-hook, and cord, and iron band<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To yon firm peak, the Ararat of our ark,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then with good heart pierce to the vapour-land;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the crane's scream, and the bear's welcome roar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell where the wave joins solid to the shore."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Swift as he spoke, the gallant Northmen sprang<span class='linenum'>36</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">On the sharp ice,—drew from the frozen blocks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mangled wreck;—with many a barbèd fang<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And twisted cable to the horrent rocks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moor'd: and then, shouting up the solitude<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their guiding star, the Dove's pale wing, pursued.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Round the dim bases of the glacier peaks,<span class='linenum'>37</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">They see the silvery Arctic fox at play,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sure sign of land,—aloft with ghastly shrieks,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wheel the wan sea-gulls, luring to his prey<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ravening glaucus<a name="FNanchor_9_169" id="FNanchor_9_169"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_169" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> sudden shooting o'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The din of wings from the gray gleaming shore.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 352]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At length they reach the land,—if land that be<span class='linenum'>38</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which seems so like the frost-piles of the deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That where commenced the soil and ceased the sea<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shows dim, as is the bound between the sleep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And waking of some wretch whose palsied brain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dulls him to ev'n the slow return of pain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Advancing farther, burst upon the eye<span class='linenum'>39</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Patches of green miraculously isled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the white desert. Oh! the rapture cry<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That greeted God, and gladden'd through the wild!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The very sight suffices to restore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Green Earth—green Earth—the Mother smiles once more!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Blithe from the turf the Dove the blessèd leaves<a name="FNanchor_10_170" id="FNanchor_10_170"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_170" class="fnanchor">[10]</a><span class='linenum'>40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That heal the slow plague of the sunless dearth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bears to each sufferer whom the curse bereaves<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ev'n of all hope, save graves in that dear earth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Woo'd by the kindly King they taste, to know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How to each ill God plants a cure below.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Long mused the anxious hero, if to dare<span class='linenum'>41</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Once more the fearful sea—or from the bark<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shape ragged huts, and wait, slow-lingering there,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till Eos issuing from the gates of Dark<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unlock the main? dread choice on either hand—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The liquid Acheron, or the Stygian land.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At length, resolved to seize the refuge given,<span class='linenum'>42</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Once more he leads the sturdiest of the crew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back to the wreck—the planks, asunder riven,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And such scant stores as yet the living few<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May for new woes sustain, are shoreward borne;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hasty axes shape the homes forlorn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now, every chink closed on the deathful air,<span class='linenum'>43</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the dark cells the weary labourers sleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deaf to the fierce roar of the hungering bear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the dull thunders clanging on the deep—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till on their waking sense the discords peal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to the numb hand cleaves unfelt the steel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What boots long told the tale of life one war<span class='linenum'>44</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With the relentless iron Element?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More, day by day, the mounting snows debar<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ev'n search for food,—yet oft the human scent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lures the wild beast, which, mangling while it dies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bursts on the prey, to fall itself the prize!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 353]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But as the winter deepens, ev'n the beast<span class='linenum'>45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shrinks from its breath, and with the loneliness<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Famine leaves the solitary feast.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Suffering halts patient in its last excess.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Closed in each tireless, lightless, foodless cave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cowers a dumb ghost unconscious of its grave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nature hath stricken down in that waste world<span class='linenum'>46</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">All—save the Soul of Arthur! <i>That</i>, sublime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hung on the wings of heavenward faith unfurl'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'er the far light of the predicted Time;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Believe thou hast a mission to fulfil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And human valour grows a Godhead's will!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Calm to that fate above the moment given<span class='linenum'>47</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shall thy strong soul divinely dreaming go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unconscious as an eagle, entering heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where its still shadow skims the rooks below;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High beyond this, its actual world is wrought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And its true life is in its sphere of thought.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet who can 'scape the infection of the heart?<span class='linenum'>48</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who, though himself invulnerably steel'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can boast a breast indifferent to the dart<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That threats the life his love in vain would shield?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When some large nature, curious, we behold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How twofold comes it from the glorious mould!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How lone, and yet how living in the All!<span class='linenum'>49</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">When it <i>imagines</i> how aloof from men!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How like the ancestral Adam ere the fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In Eden bowers the painless denizen!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when it <i>feels</i>—the lonely heaven resign'd—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How social moves the man among mankind!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Forth from the tomblike hamlet strays the King,<span class='linenum'>50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Restless with ills from which himself is free;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In that dun air the only living thing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He skirts the margin of the soundless sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No—not alone, the musing Wanderer strays;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For still the Dove smiles on the dismal ways.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nor can tongue tell, nor thought conceive how far<span class='linenum'>51</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Into that storm-beat heart, the gentle bird<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had built the halcyon's nest. How precious are<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In desolate hours, the Affections!—How, unheard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mid Noon's melodious myriads of delight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thrills the low note that steals the gloom from night!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 354]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, in return, a human love replying<span class='linenum'>52</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To his caress, seem'd in those eyes to dwell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That mellow murmur, like a human sighing,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Seem'd from those founts that lie i' the heart to swell.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love wants not speech; from silence speech it builds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kindness like light speaks in the air it gilds.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That angel guide! His fate while leading on,<span class='linenum'>53</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">It follow'd each quick movement of his soul.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the soft shadow from the setting sun<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Precedes the splendour passing to its goal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before his path the gentle herald glides,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its life reflected from the life it guides.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Was Arthur sad? how sadden'd seem'd the Dove!<span class='linenum'>54</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Did Arthur hope? how gaily soar'd its wings!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like to that sister spirit left above,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The half of ours, which, torn asunder, springs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ever through space, yearning to join once more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The earthlier half, its own and Heaven's before;<a name="FNanchor_11_171" id="FNanchor_11_171"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_171" class="fnanchor">[11]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Like an embodied living Sympathy<span class='linenum'>55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which hath no voice and yet replies to all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That wakes the lightest smile, the faintest sigh,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So did the instinct and the mystery thrall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the earth's son the daughter of the air;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pierce his soul—to place the sister there.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She was to him as to the bard his muse<span class='linenum'>56</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The solace of a sweet confessional:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hopes—the fears which manly lips refuse<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To speak to man, those leaves of thought that fall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With every tremulous zephyr from the Tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Life, whirl'd from us down the darksome sea;—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Those hourly springs and winters of the heart<span class='linenum'>57</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Weak to reveal to Reason's sober eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The proudest yet will to the muse impart,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And grave in song the record of a sigh.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hath the muse no symbol in the Dove?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both give what youth most miss'd in human love!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Over the world of winter strays the King,<span class='linenum'>58</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Seeking some track of hope—some savage prey<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which, famish'd, fronts and feeds the famishing;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or some dim outlet in the darkling way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the dumb grave of snows which form with snows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wastes wide as realms through which a spectre goes.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 355]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Amazed he halts:—Lo, on the rimy layer<span class='linenum'>59</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That clothes sharp peaks—the print of human feet!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An awe thrill'd through him, and thus spoke in prayer,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Thee, God, in man once more then do I greet?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hast thou vouchsafed the brother to the brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Links which reweave thy children to each other?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Be they the rudest of the clay divine,<span class='linenum'>60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Warm with the breath of soul, how faint so ever,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, though their race but threat new ills to mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All hail the bond thy sons cannot dissever!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bow'd to thy will, of life or death dispose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if not human friends, grant human foes!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus while he pray'd, blithe from his bosom flew<span class='linenum'>61</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The guiding Dove, along the frozen plain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a mute river, winding vale-like through<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rocks lost in vapour from the voiceless main.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as the man pursues, more thickly seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The foot-prints tell where man before has been.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sudden a voice—a yell, a whistling dart!<span class='linenum'>62</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dim through the fog, behold a dwarf-like band<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(As from the inner earth, its goblins) start;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Here threatening rush, there hoarsely gibbering stand!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Halts the firm hero; mild but undismay'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grasps the charm'd hilt, but will not bare the blade.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And with a kingly gesture eloquent,<span class='linenum'>63</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Seems to command the peace, not shun the fray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Daunted they back recoil, yet not relent;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As Indians round the forest lord at bay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond his reach they form the deathful ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And every shaft is fitted to the string.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When in the circle a grand shape appears,<span class='linenum'>64</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Day's lofty child amid those dwarfs of Night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'n through the hides of beasts (its garb) it rears<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The glorious aspect of a son of light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hush'd at that presence was the clamouring crowd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dropp'd every hand and every knee was bow'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Forth stepp'd the man, advancing towards the King;<span class='linenum'>65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And his own language smote the Cymrian's ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"What fates, unhappy one, a stranger bring<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To shores,"—he started, stopp'd,—and bounded near;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gazed on that front august, a moment's space,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rush'd,—lock'd the wanderer in a long embrace;<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 356]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Weeping and laughing in a breath, the cheek,<span class='linenum'>66</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The lip he kiss'd—then kneeling, clasp'd the hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gasping, sobbing, sought in vain to speak—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Meanwhile the King the beard-grown visage scann'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amazed—he knew his Carduel's comely lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the warm heart to heart as warm restored!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Speech came at length: first mindful of the lives,<span class='linenum'>67</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Claiming his care and perill'd for his sake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not yet the account that love demands and gives<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The generous leader paused to yield and take;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brief words his follower's wants and woes explain;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Light, warmth, and food.—<i>Sat verbum</i>," quoth Gawaine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Quick to his wondering and Pigmæan troops—<span class='linenum'>68</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quick sped the Knight; he spoke and was obey'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vanish once more the goblin-visaged groups<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And soon return caparison'd for aid;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laden with oil to warm and light the air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flesh from the seal, and mantles from the bear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Back with impatient rapture bounds the King,<span class='linenum'>69</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Smiling as he was wont to smile of yore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Gawaine, blithesome as a bird of spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sends his sweet laughter ringing to the shore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pains through that maze of questions, "How and Why?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lost in joy stops never for reply.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Before them roved wild dogs too numb to bark,<span class='linenum'>70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Led by one civilized majestic hound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who scarcely deign'd his followers to remark,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Save, when they touch'd him, by a snarl profound;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Teaching that <i>plebs</i>, as history may my readers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How curs are look'd on by patrician leaders.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now gain'd the huts, silent with drowsy life,<span class='linenum'>71</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That scarcely feels the quick restoring skill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Train'd with stern elements to wage the strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The pigmy race are Nature's conquerors still.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With practised hands they chafe the frozen veins,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gradual loose the chill heart from its chains;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Heap round the limbs the fur's thick warmth of fold,<span class='linenum'>72</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And with the cheerful oil revive the air.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slow wake the eyes of Famine to behold<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The smiling faces and the proffer'd fare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rank though the food, 'tis that which best supplies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The powers exhausted by the withering skies.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 357]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This done, they next the languid sufferers bear<span class='linenum'>73</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">(Wrapp'd from the cold) athwart the vapoury shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Regain the vale, and show the homes that there<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Art's earliest god, Necessity, hath made;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Abodes hewn out from winter, winter-proof,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ice-blocks the walls, and hollow'd ice the roof!<a name="FNanchor_12_172" id="FNanchor_12_172"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_172" class="fnanchor">[12]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Without, the snowy lavas, hard'ning o'er,<span class='linenum'>74</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hide from the beasts the buried homes of men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in the dome is placed the artful door<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through which the inmate gains or leaves the den.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down through the chasm each lowers the living load,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then from the winter seals the pent abode.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There ever burns, sole source of warmth and light,<span class='linenum'>75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The faithful lamp the whale or walrus gives,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus, Lord of Europe, in the heart of Night,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unjoyous not, thy patient brother lives!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To thee desire, to him possession sent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thine worlds of wishes,—his that inch, Content!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But Gawaine's home, more dainty than the rest,<span class='linenum'>76</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Betray'd his tastes exotic and luxurious<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The walls of ice in furry hangings dress'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Form'd an apartment elegant if curious!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like some gigantic son of Major Ursa<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turn'd inside out by barbarous <i>vice versâ</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here then he lodged his royal guest and friend,<span class='linenum'>77</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And having placed a slice of seal before him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quoth he, "Thou ask'st me for my tale, attend;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then give me thine, <i>Heus renovo dolorem</i>!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Therewith the usage villanous and rough,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Schemed in cold blood by that malignant chough;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The fraudful dinner (its dessert a wife);<span class='linenum'>78</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The bridal roof with nose assaulting glaive;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The oak whose leaves with pinching imps were rife;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The atrocious trap into the Viking's cave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The chief obdurate in his damn'd idea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of proving Freedom by a roast to Freya;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The graphic portrait of the Nuptial goddess;<span class='linenum'>79</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And diabolic if symbolic spit;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hierarch's heresy on types and bodies;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And how at last he posed and silenced it;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All facts traced clearly to that <i>corvus niger</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were told with pathos that had touch'd a tiger,<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 358]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So far the gentle sympathising Nine<span class='linenum'>80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">In dulcet strains have sung Sir Gawaine's woes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What now remains they bid the historic line<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With Dorian dryness unadorn'd disclose;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So counsel all the powers of fancy stretch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then leave the judge to finish off the wretch!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Along the beach Sir Gawaine and the hound<span class='linenum'>81</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Roved all the night, and at the dawn of day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came unawares upon a squadron bound<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To fish for whales, arrested in a bay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For want of winds, which certain Norway hags<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had squeezed from heaven and bottled up in bags.<a name="FNanchor_13_173" id="FNanchor_13_173"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_173" class="fnanchor">[13]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Straight when the seamen, fretting on the shore,<span class='linenum'>82</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Behold a wanderer clad as Freya's priest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They rush, and round him kneeling, they implore<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The runes, by which the winds may be released:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spurious priest a gracious answer made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And told them Freya sent him to their aid;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bade them conduct himself and hound on board,<span class='linenum'>83</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And broil two portions of their choicest meat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The spell," quoth he, "our sacred arts afford<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To free the wind is in the food we eat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We dine, and dining exorcise the witches,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And loose the bags from their infernal stitches.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Haste then, my children, and dispel the wind;<span class='linenum'>84</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Haste, for the bags are awfully inflating!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ship is gain'd. Both priest and dog have dined;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The crews assembled on the decks are waiting.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A heavier man arose the audacious priest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stately stepp'd he west and stately east!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mutely invoked St. David and St. Brân<span class='linenum'>85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To charge a stout north-western with their blessing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then clear'd his throat and lustily began<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A howl of vowels huge from Taliessin.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prone fell the crews before the thundering tunes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In words like mountains roll'd the enormous runes!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The excited hound, symphonious with the song,<span class='linenum'>86</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yell'd as if heaven and earth were rent asunder;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rocks Orphéan seem'd to dance along;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The affrighted whales plunged waves affrighted under;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Polyphlosboian, onwards booming bore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The deaf'ning, strident, rauque, Homeric roar!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 359]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As lions lash themselves to louder ire,<span class='linenum'>87</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">By his own song the Knight sublimely stung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Caught the full œstro of the poet's fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And grew more stunning every note he sung!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In each dread blast a patriot's soul exhales,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Norway quakes before the storm of Wales.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whether, as grateful Cymri should believe,<span class='linenum'>88</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That blatant voice heroic burst the bags,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(For sure it might the caves of Boreas cleave<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Much more the stitchwork of such losel hags!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or heaven, on any terms, resolved on peace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wind sprang up before the Knight would cease.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Never again hath singer heard such praise<span class='linenum'>89</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As Gawaine heard; for never since hath song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Found out the secret how the wind to raise!—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Around the charmer now the seamen throng,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bribe his blest attendance on their toil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With bales of bear-skin and with tuns of oil.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Well pleased to leave the inhospitable shores,<span class='linenum'>90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The artful Knight yet slowly seem'd to yield.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now through the ocean plunge the brazen prores;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They pass the threshold of the world congeal'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Surprise the snorting mammoths of the main;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pile the decks with Pelions of the slain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When, in the midmost harvest of the spoil,<span class='linenum'>91</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pounce comes a storm unspeakably more hideous<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than that which drove upon the Lybian soil<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Anchises' son, the pious and perfidious,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When whooping Notus, as the Nine assure us,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rush'd out to play with Africus and Eurus.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Torn each from each, or down the maëlstrom whirl'd,<span class='linenum'>92</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or grasp'd and gulph'd by the devouring sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or on the ribs of hurrying icebergs hurl'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The sunder'd vessels vanish momently.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scarce through the blasts which swept his own, Gawaine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heard the crew shrieking "Chant the runes again!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Far other thoughts engaged the prescient knight,<span class='linenum'>93</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fast to a plank he lash'd himself and hound;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scarce done, than, presto, shooting out of sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The enormous eddy spun him round and round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the deck a monstrous wave had pour'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Caught up the plank and toss'd it overboard.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 360]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What of the ship became, saith history not.<span class='linenum'>94</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">What of the man—the man himself shall show.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Like stone from sling," quoth Gawaine, "I was shot<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Into a ridge of what they call a <i>floe</i>,<a name="FNanchor_14_174" id="FNanchor_14_174"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_174" class="fnanchor">[14]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">There much amazed, but rescued from the waters,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Myself and hound took up our frigid quarters.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Freed from the plank, drench'd, spluttering, stunn'd, and bruised,<span class='linenum'>95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">We peer'd about us on the sweltering deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And seeing nought, and being much confused,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Crept side by side and nestled into sleep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The nearest kindred most avoid each other,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So to shun Death, we visited his brother,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Awaked at last, we found the waves had stranded<span class='linenum'>96</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">A store of waifs portentous and nefarious;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here a dead whale was at my elbow landed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">There a sick polypus, that sea-Briareus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stretch'd out its claws to incorporate my corpus;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While howl'd the hound half buried by a porpoise!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Nimbly I rose, disporpoising my friend;—<span class='linenum'>97</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Around me scatter'd lay more piteous wrecks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With every wave the accursed Tritons send<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Some sad memento of submergent decks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prows, rudders, casks, ropes, blubber, hides, and hooks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sailors, salt beef, tubs, cabin boys, and cooks.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Graves on the dead, with pious care bestow'd,<span class='linenum'>98</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">(Graves in the ice hewn out with mickle pain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By axe and bill, which with the waifs had flow'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To that strange shore) I next collect the gain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Placed in a hollow cleft—and cover'd o'er;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then Knight and hound proceeded to explore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Far had we wander'd, for the storm had join'd<span class='linenum'>99</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To a great isle of ice, our friend the <i>floe</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When as the day (three hours its length!) declined,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Out bray'd a roar; I stared around, and lo<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A flight of dwarfs about the size of sea-moths,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chased by two bears that might have eat behemoths!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Arm'd with the axe the Tritons had ejected,<span class='linenum'>100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">I rush'd to succour the Pigmæan nation,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In strife our valour, I have oft suspected,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Proportions safety to intoxication,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As drunken men securely walk on walls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From which the wretch who keeps his senses falls;<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 361]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Let but the noble frenzy seize the brain,<span class='linenum'>101</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And strength divine seems breathed into the form;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rill when swollen swallows up a plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The breeze runs mad before it blows a storm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To do great deeds, first lose your wits,—then do them!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In fine—I burst upon the bears, and slew them!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The dwarfs, deliver'd, kneel, and pull their noses;<a name="FNanchor_15_175" id="FNanchor_15_175"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_175" class="fnanchor">[15]</a><span class='linenum'>102</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">In tugs which mean to say 'The Pigmy Nation<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A vote of thanks respectfully proposes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From all the noses of the corporation!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your Highness knows '<i>Magister Artis Venter</i>:'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On signs for breakfast my replies concenter!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Quick they conceive, and quick obey; the beasts<span class='linenum'>103</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Are skinn'd, and drawn, and quarter'd in a trice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Vulcan leaves Diana to the feasts,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And not a wood-nymph consecrates the ice—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bear is but so-so, when 'tis cook'd the best,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But bear just skinn'd and perfectly undrest!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then I bethink me of the planks and casks<span class='linenum'>104</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stow'd in the cleft—for fuel <i>quantum suff</i>:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I draw the dwarfs—sore chattering, from their tasks,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Choose out the morsels least obdurely tough;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With these I load the Pigmies—bid them follow—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Regain the haven, and review the hollow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But when those minnow-men beheld the whale<span class='linenum'>105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">It really was a spectacle affecting!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They shout, they sob, they leap—embrace the tail,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Peep in the jaws; then, round me re-collecting,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Draw forth these noselings from their hiding places,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which serve as public speakers to their faces!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"While I revolve what this salute may mean,<span class='linenum'>106</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">They rush once more upon the poor balæna,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clutch—rend—gnaw—bolt the blubber; but the lean<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Reject as drying to the duodena!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This done,—my broil they aid me to obtain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, while I eat—the noses go again!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My tale is closed—the grateful Pigmies lead<span class='linenum'>107</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Myself and hound across the ice defiles;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Regain their people and recite my deed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Describe the monsters and display the spoils;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With royal rank my feats the dwarfs repay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And build the palace which you now survey!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 362]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The vanquish'd bears are trophied on the wall;<span class='linenum'>108</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The oil you scent once floated in the whale;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I had a vision to illume the hall<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With lights less fragrant,—human hopes are frail!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With cares ingenious from the bruins' fat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I made some candles,—which the ladies ate!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Tis now your turn to tell the tale, Sir King,—<span class='linenum'>109</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And by the way our comrade, Lancelot?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hope he found a raven in the ring!<br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>Monstrum horrendum!</i>—Sire, I question not<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That in your justice you have heard enough<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When we get home—to crucify that chough!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Gawaine," said Arthur, with his sunny smile,<span class='linenum'>110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Methinks thy heart will soon absolve the raven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy friend had perish'd in this icy isle<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But for thy voyage to the Viking's haven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In every ill which gives thee such offence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou seest the raven, I the Providence!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Knight reluctant shook his learned head;<span class='linenum'>111</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"So please you, Sire, you cannot find a thief<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who picks our pouch, but Providence hath led<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His steps to pick it;—yet, to my belief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's not a judge who'd scruple to exhibit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That proof of Providence upon a gibbet!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The chough was sent by Providence:—Agreed:<span class='linenum'>112</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">We send the chough to Providence, in turn!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet in the hound and not the chough, indeed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Your friendly sight should Providence discern;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For had the hound been just a whit less nimble,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thanks to the chough, your friend had been a symbol!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thy logic," answer'd Arthur, "is unsound,<span class='linenum'>113</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">But for the chough thou never had'st been married;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But for the wife thou ne'er hadst seen the hound;—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The <i>Ab initio</i> to the chough is carried:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hound is but the effect—the chough the cause,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The generous Gawaine murmur'd his applause.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Do veniam Corvo!</i> Sire, the chough's acquitted!"<span class='linenum'>114</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"For Lancelot next," quoth Arthur, "be at ease,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The task fulfill'd to which he was permitted,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The ring veer'd home—I left him on the seas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere this, be sure he hails the Cymrian shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gives to Carduel one great bulwark more."<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 363]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then Arthur told of fair Genevra flying<span class='linenum'>115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the scorn'd nuptials of the heathen fane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her Runic bark to his emprise supplying<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The steed that bore him to the Northern main;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While she, with cheeks that blush'd and looks that fell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Implored a Christian's home in Carduel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The gentle King well versed in woman's heart,<span class='linenum'>116</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And all the vestal thoughts that tend its shrine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Lancelot smiled—and answer'd, "Maid, depart;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Though o'er our roofs the thunder clouds combine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet love shall guard, whatever war betide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Saxon's daughter—or the Cymrian's bride."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A stately ship from glittering Spezia bore<span class='linenum'>117</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To Cymrian ports the lovers from the King;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then on, the Seeker of the Shield, once more,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With patient soul pursued the heavenly wing.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wild though that crew, his heart enthralls their own;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The great are kings wherever they are thrown.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nought of that mystery which the Spirit's priest,<span class='linenum'>118</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">True Love, draws round the aisles behind the veil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could Arthur bare to that light joyous breast,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Life hath its inward as its outward tale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our lips reveal our deeds,—our sufferings shun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What we have felt, how few can tell to one!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The triple task—the sword not sought in vain,<span class='linenum'>119</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The shield yet hidden in the caves of Lok,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of these spoke Arthur,—"Certes," quoth Gawaine,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When the King ceased—"strange legends of a rock<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where a fierce Dwarf doth guard a shield of light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft have I heard my pigmy friends recite;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Permit me now your royal limbs to wrap<span class='linenum'>120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">In these warm relics of departed bears;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And while from Morpheus you decoy a nap,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My skill the grain shall gather from the tares.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Pigmy tongue my erudite pursuits<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have traced <i>ad unguem</i>—to the nasal roots!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Slumbers the King—slumber his ghastly crew:<span class='linenum'>121</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">How long they know not, guess not—night and dawn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long since commingled in one livid hue:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Like that long twilight o'er the portals drawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behind whose threshold spreads eternity!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the sleep burst, and sudden in the sky<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 364]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stands the great Sun!—Like the first glorious breath<span class='linenum'>122</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of Freedom to the slave, like Hope upon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hush of woe, or through the mists of death<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A cheerful Angel—comes to earth the Sun!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ice still on land—still vapour in the air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But light—the victor Lord—but Light is there!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On siege-worn cities, when their war is spent,<span class='linenum'>123</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the far hill as, gleam on gleam, arise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spears of some great aiding armament—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Grow the dim splendours, broadening up the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till bright and brighter, the sublime array<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flings o'er the world the banners of the Day!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Behold them where they kneel! the starry King,<span class='linenum'>124</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The dwarfs of night, the giants of the sea!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each with the other linked in solemn ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Too blest for words!—Man's sever'd Family,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All made akin once more beneath those eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which on their Father smiled in Paradise!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 365]</span></p> + +<h2>BOOK X.</h2> + +<h4>ARGUMENT.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The Polar Spring—The Boreal Lights and apparition of a double sun—The +Rocky Isle—The Bears—The mysterious Shadow from the Crater of the +extinct Volcano—The Bears scent the steps of Man: their movements +described—Arthur's approach—The Bears emerge from their coverts—The +Shadow takes form and life—The Demon Dwarf described—His parley +with Arthur—The King follows the Dwarf into the interior of the volcanic +rock—The Antediluvian Skeletons—The Troll-Fiends and their tasks—Arthur +arrives at the Cave of Lok—The Corpses of the armed Giants—The +Valkyrs at their loom—The Wars that they weave—The Dwarf addresses +Arthur—The King's fear—He approaches the sleeping Fiend, and the +curtains close around him—Meanwhile Gawaine and the Norwegians have +tracked Arthur's steps on the snow, and arrive at the Isle—Are attacked +by the Bears—The noises and eruption from the Volcano—The re-appearance +of Arthur—The change in him—Freedom and its characteristics—Arthur and +his band renew their way along the coast; ships are seen—How Arthur +obtains a bark from the Rugen Chieftain; and how Gawaine stores it—The +Dove now leads homeward—Arthur reaches England; and, sailing up a river, +enters the Mercian territory—He follows the Dove through a forest to the +ruins built by the earliest Cimmerians—The wisdom and civilization of the +ancestral Druidical races, as compared with their idolatrous successors at +the time of the Roman Conquerors, whose remains alone are left to our age—Arthur +lies down to rest amidst the moonlit ruins—The Dove vanishes—The +nameless horror that seizes the King.</p></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Spring on the Polar Seas!—not violet-crown'd<span class='linenum'>1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">By dewy Hours, nor to cerulean halls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Melodious hymn'd, yet Light itself around<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her stately path, sheds starry coronals.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sublime she comes, as when, from Dis set free,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came, through the flash of Jove, Persephoné:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She comes—that grand Aurora of the North!<span class='linenum'>2</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">By steeds of fire her glorious chariot borne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Boreal courts the meteors flaming forth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ope heav'n on heav'n, before the mighty Morn:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And round the rebel giants of the night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On earth's last confines bursts the storm of light.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 366]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wonder and awe! lo, where against the Sun<span class='linenum'>3</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">A second Sun<a name="FNanchor_1_176" id="FNanchor_1_176"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_176" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> his lurid front uprears!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if the first-born lost Hyperion,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hurl'd down of old, from his Uranian spheres,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rose from the hell-rocks on his writhings pil'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And glared defiance on his Titan child.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now life, the polar life, returns once more,<span class='linenum'>4</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The reindeer roots his mosses from the snows;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The whirring sea-gulls shriek along the shore;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through oozing rills the cygnet gleaming goes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, where the ice some happier verdure frees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laugh into light frank-eyed anemones.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out from the seas still solid, frown'd a lone<span class='linenum'>5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Chaos of chasm and precipice and rock,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, while the meteors on their revels shone,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Growling hoarse glee, in many a grauly flock,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With their huge young, the sea-bears sprawling play'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Near the charr'd crater some mute Hecla made.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sullen before that cavern's vast repose,<span class='linenum'>6</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Like the lorn wrecks of a despairing race<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chased to their last hold by triumphant foes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Darkness and Horror stood! But from the space<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within the cave, and o'er the ice-ground wan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quivers a Shadow vaguely mocking man.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Like man's the Shadow falls, yet falling loses<span class='linenum'>7</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The shape it took, each moment changefully;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As when the wind on Runic waves confuses<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The weird boughs toss'd from some prophetic tree.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fantastic, goblin-like, and fitful thrown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comes the strange Shadow from the drear Unknown.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It is <i>not</i> man's—for they, man's savage foes,<span class='linenum'>8</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose sense ne'er fails them when the scent is blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sport in the shadow the Unseen One throws,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor hush their young to sniff the human food;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, undisturbed as if their home were there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pass to and fro the light-defying lair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So the bears gamboll'd, so the Shadow play'd,<span class='linenum'>9</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">When sudden halts the uncouth merriment.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now man, in truth, draws near, man's steps invade<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The men-devourers!—Snorting to the scent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, where they stretch dread necks of shaggy snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grin with white fangs, and greed the blood to flow!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 367]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Grotesquely undulating, moves the flock,<span class='linenum'>10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Low grumbling as the grisly ranks divide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some heave their slow bulk peering up the rock,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Some stand erect, and shift from side to side<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The keen quick ear, the red dilating eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And steam the hard air with a hungry sigh.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At length unquiet and amazed—as rings<span class='linenum'>11</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">On to their haunt direct, the dauntless stride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the sharp instinct of all savage things<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That doubt a prey by which they are defied,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They send from each to each a troubled stare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And huddle close, suspicious of the snare.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then a huge leader, with concerted wile,<span class='linenum'>12</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Creeps lumbering on, and, to his guidance slow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shaggèd armies move, in cautious file;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till one by one, in ambush for the foe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drops into chasm and cleft,—and vanishing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With stealthy murther girds the coming King!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He comes,—the Conqueror in the Halls of Time,<span class='linenum'>13</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Known by his silver herald in the Dove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By his imperial tread, and front sublime<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With power as tranquil as the lids of Jove,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All shapes of death the realms around afford:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Fiends God guard him!—from all else his sword<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For he, with spring the huts of ice had left<span class='linenum'>14</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the small People of the world of snows:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their food the seal, their camp, at night, the cleft,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His bold Norwegians follow where he goes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now in the rear afar, their chief they miss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And grudge the danger which they deem a bliss.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ere yet the meteors from the morning sky<span class='linenum'>15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Chased large Orion,—in the hour when sleep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reflects its ghost-land stillest on the eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had stol'n the lonely King; and o'er the deep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sought, by the clue the dwarfmen-legends yield,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the Dove's wing—the demon-guarded Shield.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Desert of the Desolate is won.<span class='linenum'>16</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still lurks, unseen, the ambush horrible—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nought stirs around beneath the twofold sun<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Save that strange Shadow, where before it fell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still falling;—varying, quivering to and fro,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the black cavern on the glaring snow.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 368]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Slow the devourers rise, and peer around:<span class='linenum'>17</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Now crag and cliff move dire with savage life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rolling downward,—all the dismal ground<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shakes with the roar and bristles with the strife:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not unprepared—(when ever are the brave?)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stands the firm King, and bares the diamond glaive.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Distinct through all the meteors, streams the brand,<span class='linenum'>18</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Light'ning along the air, the sea, the rock,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright as the arrow in that heavenly hand<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which slew the Python! Blinded halt the flock,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the great roar, but now so rough and high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sinks into terror wailing timidly.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet the fierce instinct and the rabid sting<span class='linenum'>19</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of famine goad again the check'd array;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And close and closer in tumultuous ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Reels on the death-mass crushing towards its prey.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A dull groan tells where first the falchion sweeps—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When into shape the cave-born Shadow leaps!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out from the dark it leapt—the awful form!<span class='linenum'>20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Manlike, but sure not human! on its hair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ice-barbs bristled: like a coming storm<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The breath smote lifeless every wind in air;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dread form deform'd, as ere the birth of Light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some son of Chaos and the Antique Night!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At once a dwarf and giant—trunk and limb<span class='linenum'>21</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Knit in gnarl'd strength as by a monstrous chance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never chimera more grotesque and grim,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Paled Ægypt's priesthood with its own romance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, from each dire delirium Fancy knows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some Typhon-type of Powers destroying rose.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At the dread presence, ice a double cold<span class='linenum'>22</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Conceived; the meteors from their dazzling play<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Paused; and appall'd into their azure hold<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shrunk back with all their banners; not a ray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Broke o'er the dead sea and the doleful shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Winter's steel grasp lock'd the dumb world once more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Halted the war—as the wild multitude<span class='linenum'>23</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Left the King scatheless, and their leaders slain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And round the giant dwarf the baleful brood<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Came with low howls of terror, wrath, and pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As children round their father. <i>They</i> depart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But strife remains; Fear and the Human Heart;<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 369]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For Fear was on the bold! Then spoke aloud<span class='linenum'>24</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The horrent Image: "Child of hateful Day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What madness snares thee to the glooms that shroud<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The realms abandon'd to my secret sway?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why on mine air first breathes the human breath?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath thy far world no fairer path to Death?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"All ways to Death, but one to Glory leads,<span class='linenum'>25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That which alike through earth, or air, or wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bears a bold thought to goals in noble deeds,"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Said the pale King. "And this, methinks, the cave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which hides the Shield that rock'd the sleep of one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By whom ev'n Fable shows what deeds were done!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I seek the talisman which guards the free,<span class='linenum'>26</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And tread where erst the Sire of freemen trod."<a name="FNanchor_2_177" id="FNanchor_2_177"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_177" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ho!" laugh'd the dwarf, "Walhalla's child was He!<br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>Man</i> gluts the fiend when he assumes the god."—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"No god, Deceiver, though man's erring creeds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make gods of men when godlike are their deeds;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And if the Only and Eternal One<span class='linenum'>27</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hath, ere his last illuminate Word Reveal'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Left some grand Memory on its airy throne,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor smote the nations when to names they kneel'd—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is that each false god was some great truth!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To races Heroes are as Bards to youth!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus spoke the King, to whom the Enchanted Lake,<span class='linenum'>28</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where from all sources Wisdom ever springs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had given unknown the subtle powers that wake<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Our intuitions into cloudiest things,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Won but by those, who, after passionate dreams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Taste the sharp herb and dare the solemn streams.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Demon heard; and as a moon that shines,<span class='linenum'>29</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rising behind Arcturus, cold and still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er Baltic headlands black with rigid pines,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So on his knit and ominous brows a chill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And livid smile, revealed the gloomy night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To leave the terror sterner for the light.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus spoke the Dwarf, "Thou wouldst survive to tell<span class='linenum'>30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of trophies wrested from the halls of Lok,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet wherefore singly face the hosts of Hell?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Return, and lead thy comrades to the rock;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never to one, on earth's less dreadful field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The prize of chiefs do War's fierce Valkyrs yield."<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 370]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"War," said the King, "is waged on mortal life<span class='linenum'>31</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">By men with men;—<i>that</i>, dare I with the rest:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In conflicts awful with no human strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mightiest methinks, that soul the loneliest!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When starry charms from Afrite caves were won,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No Judah march'd with dauntless Solomon!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fell fangs the demon gnash'd, and o'er the crowd<span class='linenum'>32</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wild cumbering round his feet, with hungry stare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Greeding the man, his drooping visage bow'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Go elsewhere, sons—your prey escapes the snare:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yours but the food which flesh to flesh supplies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here not the mortal but the soul defies."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then striding to the cave, he plunged within;<span class='linenum'>33</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Follow," he cried, and like a prison'd blast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the darkness, the reverberate din<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Roll'd from the rough sides of the viewless Vast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As goblin echoes, through the haunted hollow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twixt groan and laughter, chimed hoarse-gibbering, "Follow!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The King, recoiling, paused irresolute,<span class='linenum'>34</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till through the cave the white wing went its way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then on his breast he sign'd the cross, and mute,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With solemn prayer, he left the world of day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thick stood the night, save where the falchion gave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its clear sharp glimmer lengthening down the cave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Advancing; flashes rush'd irregular<span class='linenum'>35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Like subterranean lightning, fork'd and red:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From warring matter—wandering shot the star<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of poisonous gases; and the tortured bed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the' old Volcano show'd in trailing fires,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the numb'd serpent dragg'd its mangled spires.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Broader and ruddier on the Dove's pale wings<span class='linenum'>36</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Now glow'd the lava of the widening spaces;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grinn'd from the rook the jaws of giant things,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The lurid skeletons of vanish'd races,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They who, perchance, ere man himself had birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ruled the moist slime of uncompleted earth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Enormous couch'd fang'd Iguanodon,<a name="FNanchor_3_178" id="FNanchor_3_178"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_178" class="fnanchor">[3]</a><span class='linenum'>37</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To which the monster-lizard of the Nile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were prey too small,—whose dismal haunts were on<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The swamps where now such golden harvests smile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As had sufficed those myriad hosts to feed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When all the Orient march'd behind the Mede.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 371]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There the foul, earliest reptile spectra lay,<span class='linenum'>38</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Distinct as when the chaos was their home;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half plant, half serpent, some subside away<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Into gnarl'd roots (now stone)—more hideous some,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half bird—half fish—seem struggling yet to spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shark-like the maw, and dragon-like the wing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But, life-like more, from later layers emerge<span class='linenum'>39</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With their fell tusks deep-stricken in the stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Herds,<a name="FNanchor_4_179" id="FNanchor_4_179"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_179" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> that through all the thunders of the surge,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had to the Ark which swept relentless on<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Denied to them)—knell'd the despairing roar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of sentenced races time shall know no more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Under the limbs of mammoths went the path,<span class='linenum'>40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or through the arch immense of Dragon jaws,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ever on the King, in watchful wrath,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gazed the attendant Fiend, with artful pause<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where dread was deadliest; had the mortal one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Falter'd or quail'd, the Fiend his prey had won,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And rent it limb by limb; but on the Dove<span class='linenum'>41</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Arthur look'd steadfast, and the Fiend was foil'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, as along the skeleton world they move,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Strange noises jar, and flit strange shadows. Toil'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Troll's<a name="FNanchor_5_180" id="FNanchor_5_180"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_180" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> swart people, in their inmost home<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At work on ruin for the days to come.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A baleful race, whose anvils forge the flash<span class='linenum'>42</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of iron murder for the limbs of war;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who ripen hostile embryos, for the crash<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of earthquakes rolling slow to towers afar;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or train from Hecla's fount the lurid rills,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To cities sleeping under shepherd hills;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Or nurse the seeds, through patient ages rife<span class='linenum'>43</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With the full harvest of that crowning fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When for the sentenced Three—Time, Death, and Life—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Our globe itself shall be the funeral pyre;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, awed, in orbs remote some race unknown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall miss one star, whose smile had lit their own!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Through the Phlegræan glare, innumerous eyes,<span class='linenum'>44</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fierce with the murther-lust, scowl ravening,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And forms on which had never look'd the skies<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stalk near and nearer, swooping round the King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till from the blazing sword the foul array<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrink back, and wolf-like follow on the way.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 372]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now through waste mines of iron, whose black peaks<span class='linenum'>45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Frown o'er dull Phlegethons of fire below,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While, vague as worlds unform'd, sulphureous reeks<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Roll on before them huge and dun,—they go.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Abrupt the vapours vanish, and the light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bursts like a flood and rushes o'er the night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A mighty cirque with lustre belts the mine;<span class='linenum'>46</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Its walls of iron glittering into steel;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wall upon wall reflected flings the shrine<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of armour! Vizorless the Corpses kneel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their glazed eyes fix'd upon a couch where, screen'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With whispering curtains, sleeps the Kingly Fiend:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Corpses of giants, who perchance had heard<span class='linenum'>47</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The tromps of Tubal, and had leapt to strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose guilt provoked the Deluge: sepulchred<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In their world's ruins, still a frown like life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hung o'er vast brows,—and spears like turrets shone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In hands whose grasp had crush'd the Mastodon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Around the couch, a silent solemn ring,<span class='linenum'>48</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">They whom the Teuton call the Valkyrs sate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shot through pale webs their spindles glistening;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dread tissues woven out of human hate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For heavenly ends!—for there is spun the woe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of every war that ever earth shall know.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Below their feet a bottomless pit of gore<span class='linenum'>49</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yawn'd, where each web, when once the woof was done,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was scornful cast. Yet rising evermore<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Out of the surface, wander'd airy on<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Till lost in upper space), pale wingèd seeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The future heaven-fruit of the hell-born deeds;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For out of every evil born of time,<span class='linenum'>50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">God shapes a good for his eternity.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo where the spindles, weaving crime on crime,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Form the world-work of Charlemains to be;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How in that hall of iron lengthen forth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fates that ruin, to rebuild, the North!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here, one stern Sister smiling on the King,<span class='linenum'>51</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hurries the thread that twines his Nation's doom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, farther down, the whirring spindles sing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Around the woof which from his Baltic home<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall charm the avenging Norman, to control<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shatter'd races into one calm whole.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 373]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Already here, the hueless lines along,<span class='linenum'>52</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Grows the red creed of the Arabian horde;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Already here, the arm'd Chivalric Wrong<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which made the cross the symbol of the sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which thy worst idol, Rome, to Judah gave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And worshipp'd Mars upon the Saviour's grave!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Already the wild Tartar in his tents,<span class='linenum'>53</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dreamless of thrones—and the fierce Visigoth<a name="FNanchor_6_181" id="FNanchor_6_181"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_181" class="fnanchor">[6]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who on Colombia's golden armaments<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shall loose the hell-hounds,—nurse the age-long growth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Desolation—as the noiseless skein<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clasps in its web, thy far descendants, Cain!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Already, in the hearts of sires remote<span class='linenum'>54</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">In their rude Isle, the spell ordains the germ<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of what shall be a Name of wonder, wrought<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From that fell feast which Glory gives the worm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Rome's dark bird shall shade with thunder wings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm brows that brood the doom of breathless kings!<a name="FNanchor_7_182" id="FNanchor_7_182"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_182" class="fnanchor">[7]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Already, though the sad unheeded eyes<span class='linenum'>55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of Bards alone foresee, and none believe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lightning boarded from the farthest skies<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Into the mesh the race-destroyers weave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When o'er our marts shall graze a stranger's fold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the new Tarshish rot, as rots the old.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, ever there, each spectre hand the birth<span class='linenum'>56</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Weaves of a war—until the angel-blast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Peal'd from the tromp that knells the doom of earth)<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shall start the livid legions from their last;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And man, with arm uplifted still to slay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reel on some Alp that rolls in smoke away!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fierce glared the dwarf upon the silent King,<span class='linenum'>57</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"There is the prize thy visions would achieve!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, where the hush'd inexorable ring<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Murder the myriads in the webs they weave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behind the curtains of Incarnate War,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose lightest tremour topples thrones afar,—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Which ev'n the Valkyrs with their bloodless hands<span class='linenum'>58</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dare never draw aside,—go seek the Shield!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet be what follows known!—yon kneeling bands<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose camps were Andes, and whose battle-field<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Left plains, now empires, rolling seas of gore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall near the clang and heap to life once more.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 374]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Roused from their task, revengeful shall arise<span class='linenum'>59</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The never-baffled 'Choosers of the Slain;'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Fiend thy hand shall wake, unclose the eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That flash'd on heavenly hosts their storms again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thy soul wither in the mighty frown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before whose night an earlier sun sunk down.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The rocks shall close all path for flight save one,<span class='linenum'>60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where now the Troll-fiends wait to rend their prey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And each malign and monster skeleton,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Reclothed with life as in the giant day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When yonder seas were valleys, scent thy gore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And grin with fangs that gnash for food once more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ho, dost thou shudder, pale one? Back and live."<span class='linenum'>61</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thrice strove the King for speech, and thrice in vain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For he was man, and till our souls survive<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The instincts born of flesh, shall Horror reign<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In that Unknown beyond the realms of Sense,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the soul's darkness seems the man's defence.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet as when through uncertain troublous cloud<span class='linenum'>62</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Breaks the sweet morning star, and from its home<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smiles lofty peace, so through the phantom crowd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of fears the Eos of the world to come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Faith</span>, look'd—revealing how earth-nourish'd are<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The clouds, and how beyond their reach the star!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mute on his knee, amidst the kneeling dead<span class='linenum'>63</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">He sank—the dead the dreaming fiend revered,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he, the living God! Then terror fled,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And all the king illumed the front he rear'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Firm to the couch on which the fiend reposed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He strode;—the curtains, murmuring, round him closed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now while this chanced, without the tortured rock<span class='linenum'>64</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Raged fierce the war between the rival might<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of beast and man; the dwarf king's ravenous flock<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Norway's warriors led by Cymri's knight.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For by the foot-prints through the snows explored,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On to the rock the bands had track'd their lord.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Repell'd, not conquer'd, back to crag and cave,<span class='linenum'>65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sullen and watchful still, the monsters go;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And solitude resettles on the wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But silence not; around, aloft, alow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Roar the couch'd beasts, and answering from the main,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrieks the shrill gull and booms the dismal crane.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 375]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now the rock itself from every tomb<span class='linenum'>66</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of its dead world within, sends voices forth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sounds direr far, than in its rayless gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Crash on the midnight of the farthest North.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From beasts our world hath lost, the strident yell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shout of giants and the laugh of hell.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Reels all the isle; and every ragged steep<span class='linenum'>67</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hurls down an avalanche;—all the crater-cave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glows into swarthy red, and fire-showers leap<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From rended summits, hissing to the wave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through its hard ice; or in huge crags, wide-sounding<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spring where they crash—on rushing and rebounding.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dizzy and blind, the staggering Northmen fall<span class='linenum'>68</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">On earth that rocks beneath them like a bark;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loud and more loud the tumult swells with all<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Acheron of the discord. Swift and dark<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From every cleft the smoke-clouds burst their way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rush through the void, and sweep from heaven the day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Smitten beneath the pestilential blast<span class='linenum'>69</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the great terror, senseless lay the band,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the arrested life, with throes at last,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gasp'd back: and holy over sea and land<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silence and light reposed. They look'd above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And calm in calmèd air beheld the Dove!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And o'er their prostrate lord was poised the wing;<span class='linenum'>70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And when they rush'd and reach'd him, shouting joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There came no answer from the corpse-like King;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And when his true knight raised him, heavily<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Droop'd his pale front upon the faithful breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the closed lids seem'd leaden in their rest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And all his mail was dinted, hewn, and crush'd,<span class='linenum'>71</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the bright falchion dim with foul dark gore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the strong pulse of the strong hand was hush'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Like a spent storm, that might, which seem'd before<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charged with the bolts of Jove, now from the sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drew breath more feeble than an infant's sigh.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And there was solemn change on that fair face,<span class='linenum'>72</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor, whatsoe'er the fear or scorn had been,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did the past passion leave its haggard trace;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But on the rigid beauty awe was seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As one who on the Gorgon's aspect fell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had gazed, and freezing, yet survived the spell!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 376]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not by the chasm in which he left the day,<span class='linenum'>73</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">But through a new-made gorge the fires had cleft,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if with fires themselves were forced the way,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had rush'd the King;—and sense and sinew left<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The form that struggled till the strife was o'er:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So faints the swimmer when he gains the shore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But on his arm was clasp'd the wondrous prize:<span class='linenum'>74</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dimm'd, tarnish'd, grimed, and black with gore and smoke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still the pure metal, through each foul disguise,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Like starlight scatter'd on dark waters, broke;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through gore, through smoke it shone—the silver Shield,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clear as dawns Freedom from her battle-field!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Days follow'd days, ere from that speechless trance<span class='linenum'>75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">(Borne to green inlets isled amid the snows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where led the Dove), the King's reviving glance<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Look'd languid round on watchful, joyful brows;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'n while he slept, new flowers the earth had given,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on his heart brooded the bird of heaven!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But ne'er as voice and strength and sense return'd,<span class='linenum'>76</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To his good knight the strife that won the Shield<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did Arthur tell; deep in his soul inurn'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(As in the grave its secret) nor reveal'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To mortal ear that mystery which for ever<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flow'd through his thought, as through the cave a river;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whether to Love, how true soe'er its faith, 77.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whether to Wisdom, whatsoe'er its skill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till his last hour the struggle and the scath<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Remain'd unutter'd and unutterable;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But aye, in solitude, in crowds, in strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In joy, that memory lived within his life:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It made not sadness, though the calm, grave smile<span class='linenum'>78</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Never regain'd the flash that youth had given,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But as some shadow from a sacred pile<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Darkens the earth from shrines that speak of heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That gloom the grandeur of religion wore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And seem'd to hallow all it rested o'er.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Such Freedom is, O Slave, that would be free!<span class='linenum'>79</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Never her real struggles into life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath History told! As it hath been shall be<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Apocalypse of Nations; nursed in strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not with the present, nor with living foes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But where the centuries shroud their long repose.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 377]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out from the graves of earth's primæval bones,<span class='linenum'>80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The shield of empire, patient Force must win:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What made the Briton free? not crashing thrones<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor parchment laws. The charter must begin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Scythian tents, the steel of Nomad spears;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To date the freedom, count three thousand years!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Neither is Freedom mirth! Be free, O slave,<span class='linenum'>81</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And dance no more beneath the lazy palm.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Freedom's mild brow with noble care is grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her bliss is solemn as her strength is calm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thought mature each childlike sport debars<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The forms erect whose look is on the stars.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now as the King revived, along the seas<span class='linenum'>82</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flow'd back, enlarged to life, the lapsing waters;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kiss'd from their slumber by the loving breeze,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Glide, in light dance, the Ocean's silver daughters—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And blithe and hopeful o'er the sunny strands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Listing the long-lost billow, rove the bands.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At length, O sight of joy!—the gleam of sails<span class='linenum'>83</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bursts on the solitude! more near and near<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come the white playmates of the buxom gales.—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The whistling cords, the sounds of man, they hear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shout answers shout;—light sparkles round the oar—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from the barks the boat skims on to shore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It was a race from Rugen's friendly soil,<span class='linenum'>84</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Leagued by old ties with Cymri's land and king,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, with the spring-time, to their wonted spoil<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of seals and furs had spread the canvas wing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bournes their fathers never yet had known;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And found, amazed, hearts bolder than their own.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Soon to the barks the Cymrian and their bands<span class='linenum'>85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Are borne: Bright-hair'd, above the gazing crews,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lone on the loftiest deck, the leader stands,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To whom the King (his rank made known) renews<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All that his tale of mortal hope and fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vouchsafes from truth to thrill a mortal's ear;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And from the barks whose sails the chief obey,<span class='linenum'>86</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Craves one to waft where yet the fates may guide.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With rugged wonder in his large survey,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That calm grand brow the son of Ægir<a name="FNanchor_8_183" id="FNanchor_8_183"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_183" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> eyed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And seem'd in awe, as of a god, to scan<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Him who so moved his homage, yet was man.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 378]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Smoothing his voice, rough with accustom'd swell<span class='linenum'>87</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Above the storms, and the wild roar of war,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Northman answer'd, "Skalds in winter tell<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the dire dwarf who guards the Shield of Thor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For one whose race, with Odin's blent, shall be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lords of the only realm which suits the Free,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ocean!—I greet thee, and this strong right hand<span class='linenum'>88</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Place in thine own to pledge myself thy man.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Choose as thou wilt for thee and for thy band,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Amongst the sea-steeds in the stalls of Ran.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Need'st thou our arms against the Saxon foe?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our flag shall fly where'er thy trumpets blow!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Men to be free must free themselves," the King<span class='linenum'>89</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Replied, proud-smiling. "Every father-land<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spurns from its breast the recreant sons that cling<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For hope to standards winds not theirs have fann'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thankful through thee our foe we reach;—and then<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cymri hath steel eno' for Cymrian men!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While these converse, Sir Gawaine, with his hound,<span class='linenum'>90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lured by a fragrant and delightsome smell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From roasts—not meant for Freya,—makes his round,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shakes hands with all, and hopes their wives are well.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From spit to spit with easy grace he walks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And chines astounded vanish while he talks.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At earliest morn the bark to bear the King,<span class='linenum'>91</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">His sage discernment delicately stores,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rejects the blubber and disdains the ling<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For hams of rein-deers and for heads of boars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Connives at seal, to satisfy his men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But childless leaves each loud-lamenting hen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now the bark the Cymrian prince ascends,<span class='linenum'>92</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The large oars chiming to the chanting crew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(His leal Norwegian band) the new-found friends<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From brazen trumpets blare their loud adieu.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forth bounds the ship, and Gawaine, while it quickens,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wind propitiates—with three virgin chickens.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Led by the Dove, more brightly day by day,<span class='linenum'>93</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The vernal azure deepens in the sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far from the Polar threshold smiles the way—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And lo, white Albion shimmers on the eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nurse of all nations, who to breasts severe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Takes the rude children, the calm men to rear.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 379]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Doubt and amaze with joy perplex the King:<span class='linenum'>94</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not yet the task achieved, the mission done,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why homeward steers the angel pilot's wing?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the three labours rests the crowning one;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unreach'd the Iron Gates—Death's sullen hold—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where waits the Child-guide with the locks of gold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet still the Dove cleaves homeward through the air;<span class='linenum'>95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Glides o'er the entrance of an inland stream;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rests at last on bowers of foliage, where<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thick forests close their ramparts on the beam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And clasp with dipping boughs a grassy creek,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose marge slopes level with the brazen beak.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Around his neck the shield the Adventurer slung;<span class='linenum'>96</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And girt the enchanted sword. Then, kneeling, said<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The young Ulysses of the golden tongue,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Not now to phantom foes the dove hath led:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, if I err not, this a Mercian haven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from the dove peeps forth at last the raven!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Not lone, nor reckless, in these glooms profound,<span class='linenum'>97</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tempt the sure ambush of some Saxon host;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If out of sight, at least in reach of sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Let our stout Northmen follow up the coast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then if thou wilt, from each suspicious tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shake laurels down, but share them, Sire, with me!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Nay," answer'd Arthur, "ever, as before,<span class='linenum'>98</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Alone the Pilgrim to his bourne must go;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But range the men conceal'd along the shore;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Set watch, from these green turrets, for the foe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moor'd to the marge where broadest hangs the bough,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hide from the sun the glitter of the prow:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And so farewell!" He said; to land he leapt;<span class='linenum'>99</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And with dull murmur from its verdant waves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er his high crest the billowy forest swept.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As towards some fitful light the swimmer cleaves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His stalwart way,—so through the woven shades<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the pale wing now glimmers and now fades.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With strong hand parting the tough branches, goes<span class='linenum'>100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hour after hour the King; till light at last<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From skies long hid, in ambient silver flows<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through opening glades, the length of gloom is past,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the dark pines receding stand around<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A silent hill with antique ruins crown'd.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 380]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Day had long closed; and from the mournful deeps<span class='linenum'>101</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of old volcanoes spent, the livid moon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which through the life of planets lifeless creeps<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her ghostly way, deaf to the choral tune<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of spheres rejoicing, on those ruins old<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look'd down, herself a ruin,—hush'd and cold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mutely the granite wrecks the King survey'd,<span class='linenum'>102</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And knew the work of hands Cimmerian,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What time in starry robes, and awe array'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Grey Druids spoke the oracles of man—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Solving high riddles to Chaldean Mage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or the young wonder of the Samian Sage.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A date remounting far beyond the day<span class='linenum'>103</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">When Roman legions met the scythèd cars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When purer founts sublime had lapsed away<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through the deep rents of unrecorded wars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bloodstain'd altars cursed the mountain sod,<a name="FNanchor_9_184" id="FNanchor_9_184"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_184" class="fnanchor">[9]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the first faith had hail'd the Only God.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For all now left us of the parent Celt,<span class='linenum'>104</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is of that later and corrupter time,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not in rude domeless fanes those Fathers knelt,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who lured the Brahman from his burning clime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who charm'd lost science from each lone abyss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wing'd the shaft of Scythian Abaris.<a name="FNanchor_10_185" id="FNanchor_10_185"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_185" class="fnanchor">[10]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, the grandsires of our primæval race<span class='linenum'>105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Saw angel tracks the earlier earth upon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as a rising sun, the morning face<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of Truth more near the flush'd horizon shone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Filling ev'n clouds with many a golden light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lost when the orb is at the noonday height.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Through the large ruins (now no more), the last<span class='linenum'>106</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Perchance on earth of those diviner sires,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With noiseless step the lone descendant pass'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not there were seen <span class="smcap">Bâl-huan's</span> amber pyres;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No circling shafts with barbarous fragments strewn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spoke creeds of carnage to the spectral moon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But Art, vast, simple, and sublime, was there<span class='linenum'>107</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ev'n in its mournful wrecks,—such Art foregone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the first Builders, when their grand despair<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Left Shinar's tower and city half undone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Taught where they wander'd o'er the newborn world.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Column, and vault, and roof, in ruin hurl'd,<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 381]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Still spoke of hands that founded Babylon!<span class='linenum'>108</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">So in the wrecks, the Lord of young Romance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By fallen pillars laid him musing down.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">More large and large the moving shades advance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blending in one dim silence sad and wan<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The past, the present, ruin and the man.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now, o'er his lids life's gentlest influence stole,<span class='linenum'>109</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Life's gentlest influence, yet the likest death!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That nightly proof how little needs the soul<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Light from the sense, or being from the breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When all life knows a life unknown supplies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And airy worlds around a Spirit rise.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Still through the hazy mist of stealing sleep,<span class='linenum'>110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">His eyes explore the watchful guardian's wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, where it broods upon the moss-grown heap,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With plumes that all the stars are silvering.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slow close the lids—reopening with a start<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As shoots a nameless terror through his heart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That strange wild awe which haunted Childhood thrills,<span class='linenum'>111</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">When waking at the dead of Dark, alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sense of sudden solitude which chills<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The blood;—a shrinking as from shapes unknown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An instinct both of some protection fled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And of the coming of some ghastly dread.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He look'd, and lo, the Dove was seen no more,<span class='linenum'>112</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lone lay the lifeless wrecks beneath the moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the one loss gave all that seem'd before<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Desolate,—twofold desolation!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How slight a thing, whose love our trust has been,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alters the world, when it no more is seen!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He strove to speak, but voice was gone from him.<span class='linenum'>113</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As in that loss new might the terror took,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His veins congeal'd; and, interfused and dim,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shadow and moonlight swam before his look;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bristled his hair; and all the strong dismay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seized as an eagle when it grasps its prey.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Senses and soul confused, and jarr'd, and blent,<span class='linenum'>114</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lay crush'd beneath the intolerable Power;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then over all, one flash, in lightning, rent<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The veil between the Immortal and the Hour;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life heard the voice of unembodied breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Sleep stood trembling face to face with Death.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 382]</span></p> + +<h2>BOOK XI.</h2> + +<h4>ARGUMENT.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The Siege of Carduel—The Saxon forces—Stanzas relative to Ludovick the +Vandal, in explanation of the failure of his promised aid, and in description +of the events in Vandal-land—The preparations of the Saxon host for the +final assault on the City, under cover of the approaching night—The state +of Carduel—Discord—Despondence—Famine—The apparent impossibility to +resist the coming Enemy—Dialogue between Caradoc and Merlin—Caradoc +hears his sentence, and is resigned—He takes his harp and descends into the +town—The progress of Song; in its effects upon the multitude—Caradoc's +address to the people he has roused, and the rush to the Council Hall—Meanwhile +the Saxons reach the walls——The burst of the Cymrians—The +Saxons retire into the plain between the Camp and the City, and there take +their stand—The battle described—The single combat between Lancelot and +Harold—Crida leads on his reserve; the Cymrians take alarm and waver—The +prediction invented by the noble devotion of Caradoc—His fate—The +enthusiasm of the Cymrians, and the retreat of the enemy to their Camp—The +first entrance of a Happy Soul into Heaven—The Ghost that appears to +Arthur, and leads him through the Cimmerian tomb to the Realm of Death—The +sense of time and space are annihilated—Death, the Phantasmal Everywhere—Its +brevity and nothingness—The condition of soul is life, whether +here or hereafter—Fate and Nature identical—Arthur accosted by his +Guardian Angel—After the address of that Angel (which represents what we +call Conscience), Arthur loses his former fear both of the realm and the +Phantom—He addresses the Ghost, which vanishes without reply to his +question—The last boon—The destined Soother—Arthur recovering, as from +a trance, sees the Maiden of the Tomb—Her description—The Dove is +beheld no more—Strange resemblance between the Maiden and the Dove—Arthur +is led to his ship, and sails at once for Carduel—He arrives on the +Cymrian territory, and lands with Gawaine and the Maiden, near Carduel, +amidst the ruins of a hamlet devastated by the Saxons—He seeks a Convent, +of which only one tower, built by the Romans, remains—From the hill-top +he surveys the walls of Carduel and the Saxon encampment—The appearance +of the holy Abbess, who recognizes the King, and conducts him and his companions +to the subterranean grottos built by the Romans for a summer +retreat—He leaves the Maiden to the care of the Abbess, and concerts with +Gawaine the scheme for attack on the Saxons—The Virgin is conducted to +the cell of the Abbess—Her thoughts and recollections, which explain her +history—Her resolution—She attempts to escape—Meets the Abbess, who +hangs the Cross round her neck, and blesses her—She departs to the Saxon +Camp.</p></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">King Crida's hosts are storming Carduel!<span class='linenum'>1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">From vale to mount one world of armour shines,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round castled piles for which the forest fell,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Spreads the white war-town of the Teuton lines;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To countless clarions countless standards swell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">King Crida's hosts axe storming Carduel!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 383]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There, all its floods the Saxon deluge pours;<span class='linenum'>2</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">All the fierce tribes; from those whose fathers first,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With their red seaxes from the southward shores,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Carved realms for Hengist,—to the bands that burst<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the Humber, on the idle wall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rome built for manhood rotted by her thrall.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There, wild allies from many a kindred race,<span class='linenum'>3</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">In Cymrian lands hail Teuton thrones to be:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dark Jutland wails her absent populace,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And large-limb'd sons, his waves no more shall see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leave Danube desolate! afar they roam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where halts the Raven there to find a home!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But wherefore fail the Vandal's promised bands?<span class='linenum'>4</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Well said the Greek, "Not till his latest hour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deem man secure from Fortune;" in our hands<br /></span> +<span class="i1">We clutch the sunbeam when we grasp at power;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No strength detains the unsubstantial prize,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The light escapes us as the moment flies.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And monarchs envied Ludovick the Great!<span class='linenum'>5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And wisdom's seers his wiles did wisdom call,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Force stood sentry at his castle gate,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Mammon soothed the murmurers in the hall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Freedom's forms disguised the despot's thought—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He ruled by synods—and the synods bought!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet empires rest not or on gold or steel;<span class='linenum'>6</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The old in habit strike the gnarlèd root;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But vigorous faith—the young fresh sap of zeal,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Must make the life-blood of the planted shoot—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And new-born states, like new religions, need<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not the dull code, but the impassion'd creed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Give but a cause, a child may be a chief!<span class='linenum'>7</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">What cause to hosts can Ludovick supply?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift flies the Element of Power, <i>Belief</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From all foundations hollow'd to a lie.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One morn, a riot in the streets arose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And left the Vandal crownless at the close.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A plump of spears the riot could have crush'd!<span class='linenum'>8</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Defend the throne, my spearmen!" cried the king.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spearmen arm'd, and forth the spearmen rush'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When, woe! they took to reason on the thing!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then conviction smote them on the spot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That for that throne they did not care a jot.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 384]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With scuff and scum, with urchins loosed from school,<span class='linenum'>9</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thieves, gleemen, jugglers, beggars, swell'd the riot;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While, like the gods of Epicurus, cool<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On crowd and crown the spearmen look'd in quiet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till all its heads that Hydra call'd "The Many,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stretch'd hissing forth without a stroke at any.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At first Astutio, wrong but very wise,<span class='linenum'>10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Disdain'd the Hydra as a fabled creature,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The vague invention of a Poet's lies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unknown to Pliny and the laws of Nature—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor till the fact was past philosophizing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saith he, "That's Hydra, there is no disguising!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A Hydra, Sire, a Hercules demands;<span class='linenum'>11</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">So if not Hercules, assume his vizard."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The advice is good—the Vandal wrings his hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Kicks out the Sage—and rushes to a wizard.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wizard waves his wand—disarms the sentry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And (wondrous man) enchants the mob—with entry.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus fell, though no man touch'd him, Ludovick,<span class='linenum'>12</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tripp'd by the slide of his own slippery feet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The crown cajoled from Fortune by a trick,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fortune, in turn, outcheated from the cheat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clapp'd her sly cap the glittering bauble on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cried "Presto!"—raised it—and the gaud was gone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ev'n at the last, to self and nature true,<span class='linenum'>13</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">No royal heart the breath of danger woke;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To mean disguise habitual instinct flew,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the king vanish'd in a craftsman's cloak.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While his brave princes scampering for their lives,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Relictis parmulis</i>—forgot their wives!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">King Mob succeeding to the vacant throne,<span class='linenum'>14</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Chose for his ministers some wild Chaldeans,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who told the sun to close the day at noon,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor sweat to death his betters the plebeians;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bade the earth, unvex'd by plough and spade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bring forth its wheat in quarterns ready made.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sun refused the astronomic fiat;<span class='linenum'>15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The earth declined to bake the corn it grew;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">King Mob then order'd that a second riot<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Should teach Creation what it had to do.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The sun shines on, the earth demands the tillage—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down Time and Nature, and hurrah for pillage!"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 385]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then rise <i>en masse</i> the burghers of the town;<span class='linenum'>16</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Each patriot breast the fires of Brutus fill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gentle as lambs when riot reach'd the crown,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They raged like lions when it touch'd the till.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rush'd all who boasted of a shop to rob,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stout King Money soon dethroned King Mob.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This done, much scandalised to note the fact<span class='linenum'>17</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That o'er the short tyrannic rise the tall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The middle-sized a penal law enact<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That henceforth height must be the same in all;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For being each born equal with the other,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What greater crime than to outgrow your brother?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Poor Vandals, do the towers, when foes assail,<span class='linenum'>18</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">So idly soar above the level wall?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Harmonious Order needs its music-scale;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Equal were the discord of the All.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let the wave undulate, the mountain rise;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor ask from Law what Nature's self denies.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O vagrant Muse, deserting all too long,<span class='linenum'>19</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Freedom's grand war for frenzy's goblin dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hour runs on, and redemands from song,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And from our Father-land the mighty theme.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Pale Horse rushes and the trumpets swell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">King Crida's hosts are storming Carduel!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Within the inmost fort by pine trees made,<span class='linenum'>20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The hardy women kneel to warrior gods.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For where the Saxon armaments invade,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All life abandons their resign'd abodes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tents they pitch the all they prize contain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And each new march is for a new domain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To the stern gods the fair-hair'd women kneel,<span class='linenum'>21</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As slow to rest the red sun glides along;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And near and far, hammers, and clanking steel,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Neighs from impatient barbs, and runic song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mutter'd o'er mystic fires by wizard priests,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Invite the Valkyrs to the raven feasts.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For after nine long moons of siege and storm,<span class='linenum'>22</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy hold, Pendragon, trembles to its fall!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loftier the Roman tower uprears its form,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the crush'd bastion and the shatter'd wall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And but till night those iron floods delay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their rush of thunder:—Blood-red sinks the day.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 386]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Death halts to strike, and swift the moment flies:<span class='linenum'>23</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Within the walls (than all without more fell),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Discord with Babel tongues confounds the wise,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And spectral Panic, like a form of hell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chased by a Fury, fleets,—or, stone-like, stands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dull-eyed Despondence, palsying nerveless hands.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And Pride, that evil angel of the Celt,<span class='linenum'>24</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whispers to all "'tis servile to obey,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Robs order'd Union of its starry belt,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rends chief from chief and tribe from tribe away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leaves the children wrangling for command<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round the wild death-throes of the Father-land.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In breadless marts, the ill-persuading fiend<span class='linenum'>25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Famine, stalks maddening with her wolfish stare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hearts, on whose stout anchors Faith had lean'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bound at her look to treason from despair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shouting, "Why shrink we from the Saxon's thrall?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is slavery worse than Famine smiting all?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus, in the absence of the sunlike king,<span class='linenum'>26</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">All phantoms stalk abroad; dissolve and droop<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light and the life of nations—while the wing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of Carnage halts but for its rushing swoop.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some moan, some rave, some laze the hours away;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And down from Carduel blood-red sunk the day!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Leaning against a broken parapet<span class='linenum'>27</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Alone with Thought, mused Caradoc the Bard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When a voice smote him, and he turn'd and met<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A gaze prophetic in its sad regard.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside him, solemn with his hundred years,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stood the arch hierarch of the Cymrian seers.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Dost thou remember," said the Sage, "that hour<span class='linenum'>28</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">When seeking signs to Glory's distant way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou heard'st the night bird in her leafy bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Singing sweet death-chaunts to her shining prey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While thy young poet-heart, with ravish'd breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hung on the music, nor divined the death?"<a name="FNanchor_1_186" id="FNanchor_1_186"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_186" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ay," the bard answer'd, "and ev'n now methought<span class='linenum'>29</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">I heard again the ambrosial melody!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"So," sigh'd the Prophet, "to the bard, unsought,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Come the far whispers of Futurity!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like his own harp, his soul a wind can thrill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the chord murmur, though the hand be still.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 387]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Wilt thou for ever, even from the tomb,<span class='linenum'>30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Live, yet a music, in the hearts of all;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arise and save thy country from its doom;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Arise, Immortal, at the angel's call!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hour shall give thee all thy life implor'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And make the lyre more glorious than the sword.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"In vain through yon dull stupor of despair<span class='linenum'>31</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sound Geraint's tromp and Owaine's battle cry;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vain where yon rude clamour storms the air,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Council Chiefs stem madd'ning mutiny;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Trystan's mail the lion heart is gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on the breach stands Lancelot alone!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Drivelling the wise, and impotent the strong;<span class='linenum'>32</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fast into night the life of Freedom dies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Awake, Light-Bringer, wake bright soul of song,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Kindler, reviver, re-creator rise!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crown thy great mission with thy parting breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And teach to hosts the Bard's disdain of death!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thrill'd at that voice the soul of Caradoc;<span class='linenum'>33</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">He heard, and knew his glory and his doom.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As when in summer's noon the lightning shock<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Smites some fair elm in all its pomp of bloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Mid whose green boughs each vernal breeze had play'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And air's sweet race melodious homes had made;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So that young life bow'd sad beneath the stroke<span class='linenum'>34</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That sear'd the Fresh and still'd the Musical,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet on the sadness Thought sublimely broke:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Holy the tree on which the bolt doth fall!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wild flowers shall spring the sacred roots around,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And nightly fairies tread the haunted ground;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There, age by age, shall youth with musing brow,<span class='linenum'>35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hear Legend murmuring of the days of yore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, virgin love more lasting deem the vow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Breathed in the shade of branches green no more;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And kind Religion keep the grand decay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still on the earth while forests pass away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"So be it, O voice from Heaven," the Bard replied,<span class='linenum'>36</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Some grateful tears may yet embalm my name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ever for human love my youth hath sigh'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And human love's divinest form is fame.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is the dream erring? shall the song remain?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say, can one Poet ever live in vain?"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 388]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As the warm south on some unfathom'd sea,<span class='linenum'>37</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Along the Magian's soul, the awful rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stirr'd with the soft emotion: tenderly<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He laid his hand upon the brows he blest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And said, "Complete beneath a brighter sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That course, The Beautiful, which life begun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Joyous and light, and fetterless through all<span class='linenum'>38</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The blissful, infinite, empyreal space,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If then thy spirit stoopeth to recall<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The ray it shed upon the human race,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See where the ray had kindled from the dearth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seeds that shall glad the garners of the earth!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Never true Poet lived and sung in vain!<span class='linenum'>39</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lost if his name, and wither'd if his wreath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The thoughts he woke—an element remain<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fused in our light and blended with our breath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All life more noble, and all earth more fair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because that soul refined man's common air!"<a name="FNanchor_2_187" id="FNanchor_2_187"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_187" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then rose the Bard, and smilingly unslung<span class='linenum'>40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">His harp of ivory sheen, from shoulders broad,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kissing the hand that doom'd his life, he sprung<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Light from the shatter'd wall,—and swiftly strode<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where, herdlike huddled in the central space,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Droop'd, in dull pause, the cowering populace.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There, in the midst he stood! The heavens were pale<span class='linenum'>41</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With the first stars, unseen amidst the glare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cast from large pine-brands on the sullen mail<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of listless legions and the streaming hair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of women, wailing for the absent dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or bow'd o'er infant lips that moan'd for bread.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From out the illumed cathedral hollowly<span class='linenum'>42</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Swell'd, like a dirge, the hymn; and through the throng<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose looks had lost all commerce with the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With lifted rood the slow monks swept along,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And vanish'd hopeless; From those wrecks of man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fled ev'n Religion: Then the <span class="smcap">Bard</span> began.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Slow, pitying, soft it glides, the liquid lay,<span class='linenum'>43</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sad with the burthen of the Singer's soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into the heart it coil'd its lulling way;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wave upon wave the golden river stole:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hush'd to his feet forgetful Famine crept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Woe, reviving, veil'd the eyes that wept.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 389]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then stern, and harsh, clash'd the ascending strain,<span class='linenum'>44</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Telling of ills more dismal yet in store;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rough with the iron of the grinding chain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dire with the curse of slavery evermore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wild shrieks from lips belov'd pale warriors hear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her child's last death-groan rends the mother's ear;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then trembling hands instinctive griped the swords;<span class='linenum'>45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And men unquiet sought each other's eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loud into pomp sonorous swell the chords,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Like linkèd legions march the melodies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the full rapture swept the Bard along,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And o'er the listeners rush'd the storm of song!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the Dead spoke! from cairns and kingly graves<span class='linenum'>46</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Heroes call'd;—and Saints from earliest shrines;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the Land spoke!—Mellifluous river-waves;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dim forests awful with the roar of pines;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mysterious caves from legion-haunted deeps;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And torrents flashing from untrodden steeps;—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The Land of Freedom</span> call'd upon the Free!<span class='linenum'>47</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">All Nature spoke; the clarions of the wind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The organ swell of the majestic sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The choral stars! the Universal Mind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spoke, like the voice from which the world began,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"No chain for Nature and the Soul of Man!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then loud through all, as if mankind's reply,<span class='linenum'>48</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Burst from the Bard the Cymrian battle hymn!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That song which swell'd the anthems of the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Alleluia of the Seraphim;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Saints led on the Children of the Lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And smote the Heathen with the Angel's sword.<a name="FNanchor_3_188" id="FNanchor_3_188"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_188" class="fnanchor">[3]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As leaps the warfire on the beacon hills,<span class='linenum'>49</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Leapt in each heart the lofty flame divine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As into sunlight flash the molten rills,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flash'd the glad claymores,<a name="FNanchor_4_189" id="FNanchor_4_189"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_189" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> lightening line on line;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From cloud to cloud as thunder speeds along,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From rank to rank rush'd forth the choral song.—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Woman and child—all caught the fire of men,<span class='linenum'>50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To its own heaven that Alleluia rang,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life to the spectres had return'd again;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And from the grave an armèd Nation sprang!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then spoke the Bard,—each crest its plumage bow'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the large voice went lengthening through the crowd<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 390]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hark to the measur'd march!—The Saxons come!<span class='linenum'>51</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The sound earth quails beneath the hollow tread;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your fathers rush'd upon the swords of Rome<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And climb'd her war-ships, when the Cæsar fled!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Saxons come! why wait within the wall?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They scale the mountain—let its torrents fall!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Mark, ye have swords, and shields, and armour, <span class="smcap">ye</span>!<span class='linenum'>52</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">No mail defends the Cymrian Child of Song,<a name="FNanchor_5_190" id="FNanchor_5_190"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_190" class="fnanchor">[5]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But where the warrior—there the Bard shall be!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All fields of glory to the Bard belong!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His realm extends wherever godlike strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spurns the base death, and wins immortal life.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Unarm'd he goes—his guard the shields of all,<span class='linenum'>53</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where he bounds foremost on the Saxon spear!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unarm'd he goes, that, falling, ev'n his fall<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shall bring no shame, and shall bequeath no fear!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Does his song cease?—avenge it by the deed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And make his sepulchre—a nation freed!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He said, and where the chieftains wrangling sate,<span class='linenum'>54</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Led the grand army marshall'd by his song,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into the hall—and on the wild debate,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">King of all kings, <span class="smcap">A People</span>, pour'd along;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from the heart of man—the trumpet cry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smote faction down, "Arms, arms, and Liberty!"—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Meanwhile roll'd on the Saxon's long array;<span class='linenum'>55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">On to the wall the surge of slaughter roll'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slow up the mount—slow heaved its labouring way;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The moonlight rested on the domes of gold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No warder peals alarum from the Keep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Death comes mute, as on the realm of Sleep;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When, as their ladders touch'd the ruin'd wall,<span class='linenum'>56</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And to the van, high-towering, Harold strode,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sudden expand the brazen gates, and all<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The awful arch as with the lava glow'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Torch upon torch the deathful sweep illumes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The burst of armour and the flash of plumes!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Rings Owaine's shout;—rings Geraint's thunder-cry,<span class='linenum'>57</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Saxon's death-knell in a hundred wars;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Cador's laugh of triumph;—through the sky<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rush tossing banderolls swift as shooting stars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trystan's white lion—Lancelot's cross of red,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Tudor's<a name="FNanchor_6_191" id="FNanchor_6_191"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_191" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> standard with the Saxon's head.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 391]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And high o'er all, its scalèd splendour rears<span class='linenum'>58</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The vengeful emblem of the Dragon Kings.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full on the Saxon bursts the storm of spears;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Far down the vale the charging whirlwind rings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While through the ranks its barbèd knightood clave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All Carduel follows with its roaring wave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And ever in the van, with robes of white<span class='linenum'>59</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And ivory harp, shone swordless Caradoc!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ever floated in melodious might,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The clear song buoyant o'er the battle shock;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm as an eagle when the Olympian King<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sends the red bolt upon the tranquil wing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Borne back, and wedged within the ponderous weight<span class='linenum'>60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of their own jarr'd and multitudinous crowd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Recoil'd the Saxons! As adown the height<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of some grey mountain, rolls the cloven cloud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smit by the shafts of the resistless day,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down to the vale sunk dun the rent array.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Midway between the camp and Carduel,<span class='linenum'>61</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Halting their slow retreat, the Saxons stood:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, as the wall-like ocean ere it fell<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On Ægypt's chariots, gather'd up the flood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, in suspended deluge, solid rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hung expectant o'er the hurrying foes!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Right in the centre, rampired round with shields,<span class='linenum'>62</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">King Crida stood,—o'er him, its livid mane<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The horse whose pasture is the Valkyr's fields<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flung wide;—but, foremost through the javelin-rain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blazed Harold's helm, as when, through all the stars<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Distinct, pale soothsayers see the dooming Mars.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Down dazzling sweeps the Cymrian Chivalry;<span class='linenum'>63</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Round the bright sweep closes the Saxon wall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Snatch'd from the glimmer of the funeral sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Raves the blind murder; and enclasp'd with all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its own stern hell, against the iron bar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pants the fierce heart of the imprison'd War.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Only by gleaming banners and the flash<span class='linenum'>64</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of some large sword, the vex'd Obscure once more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sparkled to light. In one tumultous clash<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Merg'd every sound—as when the maëlstrom's roar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By dire Lofoden, dulls the seaman's groan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And drowns the voice of tempests in its own.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 392]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Cymrian ranks,—disparted from their van,<span class='linenum'>65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And their hemm'd horsemen,—stubborn, but in vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Press through the levell'd spears; yet, man by man,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And shield to shield close-serried, they sustain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sleeting hail against them hurtling sent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From every cloud in that dread armament.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But now, at length, cleaving the solid clang,<span class='linenum'>66</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And o'er the dead men in their frowning sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rallying shouts of chiefs confronted rang,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Thor and Walhalla!"—answer'd swift and deep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By "Alleluia!" and thy chanted cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Young Bard sublime, "For Christ and Liberty!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then the ranks open'd, and the midnight moon<span class='linenum'>67</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stream'd where the battle, like the scornful main,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ebb'd from the dismal wrecks its wrath had strewn.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Paused either host;—lo, in the central plain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two chiefs had met, and in that breathless pause,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each to its champion left a Nation's cause.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now, Heaven defend thee, noble Lancelot!<span class='linenum'>68</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">For never yet such danger thee befel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though loftier deeds than thine emblazon not<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The peerless Twelve of golden Carduel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though oft thy breast hath singly stemm'd a field,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As when thy claymore clang'd on Harold's shield!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And Lancelot knew not his majestic foe,<span class='linenum'>69</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Save by his deeds; by Cador's cloven crest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Modred's corpse; by rills of blood below,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And shrinking helms above;—when from the rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spurring,—the steel of his uplifted brand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drew down the lightning of that red right hand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Full on the Saxon's shield the sword descends;<span class='linenum'>70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The strong shield clattering shivers at the stroke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the bright crest with all its plumage bends<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As to the blast with all its boughs an oak:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As from the blast an oak with all its boughs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Retowering slow, the crest sublime arose.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Grasp'd with both hands, above the Cymrian swung<span class='linenum'>71</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The axe that Odin taught his sons to wield,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thrice through the air the circling iron sung,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then crash'd resounding:—horse and horseman recl'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though slant from sword and casque the weapon shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down sword and casque the weight resistless bore.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 393]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The bright plume mingles with the charger's mane;<span class='linenum'>72</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Light leaves the heaven, and sense forsakes the breath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aloft the axe impatient whirrs again,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The steed wild-snorting bounds and foils the death;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While on its neck the reins unheeded flow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It shames and saves its Lord, and flies the foe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lo, Saxons, lo, what chiefs these Walloons<a name="FNanchor_7_192" id="FNanchor_7_192"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_192" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> lead!"<span class='linenum'>73</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Laugh'd hollow from his helm the scornful Thane.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then towards the Christian knights he spurr'd his steed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When midway in his rush—rushes again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The foe that rallied while he seem'd to fly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As wheels the falcon ere it swoops from high;—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And as the falcon, while its talons dart<span class='linenum'>74</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Into the crane's broad bosom, splits its own<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the sharp beak, and, clinging heart to heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Both in one plumage blent, spin whirling down,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So in that shock each found, and dealt the blow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Horse roll'd on horse, fell grappling foe on foe.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">First to his feet the slighter Cymrian leapt,<span class='linenum'>75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And on the Saxon's breast set firm his knee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then o'er the heathen host a shudder crept,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rose all their voices,—wild and wailingly;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Woe, Harold, woe!" as from one bosom came,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The groan of thousands, and the mighty name.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Cymrian starts, and stays his lifted hand,<span class='linenum'>76</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">For at that name from Harold's vizor shone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Genevra's eyes! Back in its sheath the brand<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He plunged:—sprang Harold—and the foe was gone,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lost where the Saxons rush'd along the plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To save the living or avenge the slain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Spurr'd to the rescue every Cymrian knight,<span class='linenum'>77</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Again confused, the onslaught raged on high;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again the war-shout swell'd above the fight,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Again the chant "for Christ and Liberty,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When with fresh hosts unbreath'd, the Saxon king<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forth from the wall of shields leapt thundering.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Behind the chief the dreadful gonfanon<span class='linenum'>78</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Spread;—the Pale Horse went rushing down the wind.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"On where the Valkyrs point to Carduel, on!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On o'er the corpses to the wolf consign'd!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On, that the Pale Horse, ere the night be o'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stall'd in yon tower, may rest his hoofs of gore!"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 394]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus spoke the king, and all his hosts replied;<span class='linenum'>79</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fill'd by his word and kindled by his look—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(For helmless with his grey hair streaming wide,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He strided through the spears)—the mountains shook—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shook the dim city—as that answer rang!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fierce shout chiming to the buckler's clang!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Aghast, the Cymrians see, like Titan sons<span class='linenum'>80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">New-born from earth,—leap forth the sudden bands:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As when the wind's invisible tremour runs<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through corn-sheaves ripening for the reaper's hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The glittering tumult undulating flows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the field quivers where the panic goes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Cymrians waver—shrink—recoil—give way,<span class='linenum'>81</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Strike with weak hands amazed; half turn to flee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vain with knightly charge the chiefs delay<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The hostile mass that rolls resistlessly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the pale hoofs for aye had trampled down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Cymrian freedom and the Dragon Crown,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But for that arch preserver, under heaven,<span class='linenum'>82</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of names and states, the Bard! the hour was come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To prove the ends for which the lyre was given:—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Each thought divine demands its martyrdom.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Where round the central standard rallying flock<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Dragon Chiefs—paused and spoke Caradoc!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye Cymrian men!" Hush'd at the calm sweet sound,<span class='linenum'>83</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Droop'd the wild murmur, bow'd the loftiest crest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meekly the haughty paladins group'd round<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The swordless hero with the mailless breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose front, serene amid the spears, had taught<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To humbled Force the chivalry of Thought.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ye Cymrian men—from Heus the Guardian's tomb<span class='linenum'>84</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">I speak the oracular promise of the Past.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fear not the Saxon! Till the judgment doom<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Free on their hills the Dragon race shall last,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If from you heathen, ye this night can save<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One spot not wider than a single grave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For thus the antique prophecy decrees,—<span class='linenum'>85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">'When where the Pale Horse crushes down the dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">War's sons shall see the lonely child of peace<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Grasp at the mane to fall beneath the tread—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, where he falleth let his dust remain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, bid the Dragon rest above the slain;<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 395]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'There, let the steel-clad living watch the clay,<span class='linenum'>86</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till on that spot their swords the grave have made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the Pale Horse shall melt in cloud away,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">No stranger's step the sacred mound invade:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A people's life that single death shall save,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the land be hallow'd by a grave.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"So be the Guardian's prophecy fulfill'd,<span class='linenum'>87</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Advance the Dragon, for the grave is mine."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He ceased: while yet the silver accents thrill'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Each mailèd bosom down the listening line,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bounded his steed, and like an arrow went<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His plume, swift glancing through the armament.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On through the tempest went it glimmering,<span class='linenum'>88</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">On through the rushing barbs and levell'd spears;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On where, far streaming o'er the Teuton king,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Its horrent pomp the ghastly standard rears.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On rush'd to rescue all to whom his breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Left what saves Nations,—the disdain of death!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alike the loftiest knight and meanest man,<span class='linenum'>89</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">All the roused host, but now so panic-chill'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All Cymri once more as one Cymrian,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With the last light of that grand spirit fill'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through rank on rank, mow'd down, down trampled, sped,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And reach'd the standard—to defend the dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wrench'd from the heathen's hand, one moment bow'd<span class='linenum'>90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the bright Christian's grasp the gonfanon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then from a dumb amaze the countless crowd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Swept,—and the night as with a sudden sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flash'd with avenging steel; life gain'd its goal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And calm from lips proud-smiling went the soul!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Leapt from his selle, the king-born Lancelot;<span class='linenum'>91</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Leapt from the selle each paladin and knight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In one mute sign that where upon that spot<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The foot was planted, God forbade the flight:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There shall the Father-land avenge the son,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or heap all Cymri round the grave of one.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then, well-nigh side by side—broad floated forth<span class='linenum'>92</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Cymrian Dragon and the Teuton Steed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rival Powers that struggle for the North;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The gory Idol—the chivalric Creed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Odin's and Christ's confronting flags unfurl'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As which should save and which destroy a world!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 396]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then fought those Cymrian men, as if on each<span class='linenum'>93</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">All Cymri set its last undaunted hope;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the steel bulwarks round them yawns the breach;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vistas to freedom bright'ning onwards ope;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crida in vain leads band on slaughter'd band,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vain revived falls Harold's ruthless hand;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As on the bull the pard will fearless bound,<span class='linenum'>94</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">But if the horn that meets the spring should gore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Awed with fierce pain, slinks snarling from the ground;—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So baffled in their midmost rush, before<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The abrupt assault, the savage hosts give way;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet will not own that man could thus dismay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Some God more mighty than Walhalla's king,<span class='linenum'>95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Strikes in yon arms"—the sullen murmurs run,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fast and faster drives the Dragon wing—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And shrinks and cowers the ghastly gonfanon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They flag—they falter—lo, the Saxons fly!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lone rests the Dragon in the dawning sky!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lone rests the Dragon with its wings outspread,<span class='linenum'>96</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where the pale hoofs one holy ground had trod,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There the hush'd victors round the martyr'd dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As round an altar, lift their hearts to God.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm is that brow as when a host it braved,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And smiles that lip as on the land it saved!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pardon, ye shrouded and mysterious Powers,<span class='linenum'>97</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ye far-off shadows from the spirit-clime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If for that realm untrodden by the Hours,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Awhile we leave this lazar-house of Time;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Song remounting to those native airs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of which, though exiled, still we are the heirs.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up from the clay and towards the Seraphim,<span class='linenum'>98</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Immortal, men called Caradoc, arose.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round the freed captive whose melodious hymn<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had hail'd each glimmer earth, the dungeon, knows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spread all the aisles by angel worship trod;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blazed every altar, conscious of the God.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All the illumed creation one calm shrine;<span class='linenum'>99</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">All space one rapt adoring ecstasy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the sweet stars with their untroubled shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Near and more near, enlarging through the sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All opening gradual on the eternal sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joy after joy, the depths of their delight.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 397]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Paused on the marge, Heaven's beautiful New-born,<span class='linenum'>100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Paused on the marge of that wide happiness;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as a lark that, poised amid the morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shakes from its wing the dews—the plumes of bliss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sunn'd in the dawn of the diviner birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shook every sorrow memory bore from earth:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Knowledge (that on the troubled waves of sense<span class='linenum'>101</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Breaks into sparkles)—pour'd upon the soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its lambent, clear, translucent affluence,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And cold-eyed Reason loosed its hard control;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each godlike guess beheld the truth it sought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Inspiration flash'd from what was Thought.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Still'd evermore the old familiar train<span class='linenum'>102</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That fill the frail Proscenium of our deeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The unquiet actors on that stage, the brain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which, in the spangles of their tinsell'd weeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mime the true soul's majestic royalties,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And strut august in Wonder's credulous eyes;—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ambition's madness in the vain desires,<span class='linenum'>103</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which seek a goddess but to clasp a cloud;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And human Passion that with fatal fires<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Consumes the shrine to which its faith is vow'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And even Hope, that fairest nurse of Grief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crown'd with young flowers,—a blight in every leaf;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All these are still—abandon'd to the worm,<span class='linenum'>104</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Their loud breath jars not on the calm above!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only survived, as if the single germ<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the new life's ambrosian being,—<span class="smcap">love</span>.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, if the bud can give such bloom to Time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What is the flower when in its native clime?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Love to the radiant Stranger left alone<span class='linenum'>105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of all the vanish'd hosts of memory;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While broadening round, on splendour splendour shone,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To earth soft-pitying dropt the veilless eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And saw the shape, that love remember'd still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Couch'd 'mid the ruins on the moonlit hill.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, with the new-born vision, piercing all<span class='linenum'>106</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Things past and future, view'd the fates ordain'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fame achieved amidst the Coral Hall;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From war and winter Freedom's symbol gain'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What rests?—the Spirit from its realm of bliss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shot, loving down,—the guide to Happiness!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 398]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pale to the Cymrian King the Shadow came,<span class='linenum'>107</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Its glory left it as the earth it near'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In livid likeness as its corpse the same,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wan with its wounds the awful ghost appear'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life heard the voice of unembodied breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Sleep stood trembling side by side with Death.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come," said the Voice, "Before the Iron Gate<span class='linenum'>108</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which hath no egress, waiting thee, behold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the shadow of the brows of Fate,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The childlike playmate with the locks of gold."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then rose the mortal, following, and, before,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moved the pale shape the angel's comrade wore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where, in the centre of those ruins grey,<span class='linenum'>109</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Immense with blind walls columnless, a tomb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For earlier kings, whose names had pass'd away,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Chill'd the chill moonlight with its mass of gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through doors ajar to every prying blast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By which to rot imperial dust had past.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Vision went, and went the living King;<span class='linenum'>110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then strange and hard to human hear to tell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By language moulded but by thoughts that bring<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Material images, what there befel!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mortal enter'd Eld's dumb burial place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And at the threshold, vanish'd Time and Space.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, the hard sense of time was from the mind<span class='linenum'>111</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rased and annihilate;—yea, space to eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And soul was presenceless? What rest behind?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thought and the Infinite! the eternal I,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And its true realm the Limitless, whose brink<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thought ever nears: What bounds us when we think?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yea, as the dupe in tales Arabian,<span class='linenum'>112</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dipp'd but his brow beneath the beaker's brim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in that instant all the life of man<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From youth to age roll'd its slow years on him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And while the foot stood motionless—the soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swept with deliberate wing from pole to pole,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So when the man the Grave's still portals pass'd,<span class='linenum'>113</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Closed on the substances or cheats of earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Immaterial, for the things it glass'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shaped a new vision from the matter's dearth:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before the sight that saw not through the clay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The undefined Immeasurable lay.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 399]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A realm not land, nor sea, nor earth, nor sky,<span class='linenum'>114</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Like air impalpable, and yet not air;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Where am I led?" ask'd Life with hollow sigh.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"To Death, that dim phantasmal <span class="smcap">Every where</span>,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Ghost replied. "Nature's circumfluent robe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Girding all life—the globule or the globe."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yet," said the Mortal, "if indeed this breath<span class='linenum'>115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Profane the world that lies beyond the tomb;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where is the Spirit-race that peoples death?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My soul surveys but unsubstantial gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A void—a blank—where none preside or dwell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor woe nor bliss is here, nor heaven nor hell."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And what is death?—a name for nothingness,"<a name="FNanchor_8_193" id="FNanchor_8_193"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_193" class="fnanchor">[8]</a><span class='linenum'>116</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Replied the Dead; "the shadow of a shade;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death can retain no spirit!—woe and bliss,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And heaven and hell, are for the living made;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An instant flits between life's latest sigh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And life's renewal;—that it is to die!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"From the brief Here to the eternal There<span class='linenum'>117</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">We can but see the swift flash of the goal;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Less than the space between two waves of air,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The void between existence and a soul;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherefore, look forth; and with calm sight endure<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The vague, impalpable, inane Obscure:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lo, by the Iron Gate a giant cloud<span class='linenum'>118</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">From which emerge (the form itself unseen)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vast adamantine brows sublimely bow'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Over the dark,—relentlessly serene;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou canst not view the hand beneath the fold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The work it weaveth none but God behold.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yet ever from this Nothingness of Death,<span class='linenum'>119</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That hand shapes out the myriad pomps of life;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Receives the matter when resign'd the breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Calms into Law the elemental strife;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On each still'd atom forms afresh bestows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(No atom lost since first Creation rose).<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thus seen, what men call Nature, thou surveyest,<span class='linenum'>120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">But matter boundeth not the still one's power;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In every deed its presence thou displayest.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It prompts each impulse, guides each wingèd hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It spells the Valkyrs to their gory loom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It calls the blessing from the bane they doom:<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 400]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It rides the steed, it saileth with the bark,<span class='linenum'>121</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wafts the first corn-seed to the herbless wild,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alike directing through the doom of dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The age-long nation and the new-born child;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here the dread Power, yet loftier tasks await,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And <span class="smcap">Nature</span>, twofold, takes the name of <span class="smcap">Fate</span>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Nature or Fate, Matter's material life.<span class='linenum'>122</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or to all spirit the spiritual guide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alike with one harmonious being rife,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Form but the whole which only names divide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fate's crushing power, or Nature's gentle skill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alike one Good—from one all-loving Will."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While thus the Shade benign instructs the King,<span class='linenum'>123</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Near the dark cloud the still brows bended o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They come: a soft wind with continuous wing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sighs through the gloom and trembles through the door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Hark to that air," the gentle Phantom said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"In each faint murmur flit unseen the dead,—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Pass through the gate, from life the life resume,<span class='linenum'>124</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As the old impulse flies to heaven or hell."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While spoke the Ghost, stood forth amidst the gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A lucent Image, crown'd with asphodel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The left hand bore a mirror crystal-bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A wand star-pointed glitter'd in the right.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Dost thou not know me?—me, thy second soul?"<span class='linenum'>125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Said the bright Image, with its low sweet voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I who have led thee to each noble goal,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mirror'd thy heart, and starward led thy choice?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To teach thee wisdom won in Labour's school,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I lured thy footsteps to the forest pool,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Show'd all the woes which wait inebriate power,<span class='linenum'>126</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And woke the man from youth's voluptuous dream;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glass'd on the crystal—let each stainless hour<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Obey the wand I lift unto the beam;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And at the last, when yonder gates expand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pass with thine angel, Conscience, hand in hand."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Spoke the sweet Splendour, and as music dies<span class='linenum'>127</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Into the heart that hears, subsides away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then Arthur lifted his serenest eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Towards the pale Shade from the celestial day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And said, "O thou in life belov'd so well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dream I or wake?—As those last accents fell,<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 401]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"So fears that, spite of thy mild words, dismay'd,<span class='linenum'>128</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fears not of death, but that which death conceals,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vanish;—my soul that trembled at thy shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yearns to the far light which the shade reveals,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sees how human is the dismal error<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thad hideth God, when veiling death with terror.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ev'n thus some infant, in the early spring,<span class='linenum'>129</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Under the pale buds of the almond-tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrinks from the wind that with an icy wing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shakes showering down white flakes that seem to be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Winter's wan sleet,—till the quick sunbeam shows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That those were blossoms which he took for snows.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thou to this last and sovran mystery<span class='linenum'>130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of my mysterious travail guiding sent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dear as thou wert, I will not mourn for thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou wert not shaped for earth's hard element—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our ends, our aims, our pleasure, and our woe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou knew'st them all, but thine we could not know.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Forgive that none were worthy of thy worth!<span class='linenum'>131</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That none took heed, upon the plodding way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What diamond dew was on the flowers of earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till in thy soul drawn upward to the day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now, why gape the wounds upon thy breast?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What guilty hand dismiss'd thee to the Blest?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For blest thou art, beloved and lost? Oh, speak,<span class='linenum'>132</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Say thou art with the Angels?"—As at night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far off the pharos on the mountain-peak<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sends o'er dim ocean one pale path of light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lost in the wideness of the weltering Sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, that one gleam along eternity<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Vouchsafed, the radiant guide (its mission closed)<span class='linenum'>133</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fled, and the mortal stood amidst the cloud!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All dark above, lo at his feet reposed<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Beneath the Brow's still terror o'er it bow'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With eyes that lit the gloom through which they smiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Virgin shape, half woman and half child!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There, bright before the iron gates of Death,<span class='linenum'>134</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bright in the shadow of the awful Power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which did as Nature give the human breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As Fate mature the germ and nurse the flower<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of earth for heaven,—Toil's last and sweetest prize,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The destined Soother lifts her fearless eyes!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 402]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Through all the mortal's fame enraptured thrills<span class='linenum'>135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">A subtler tide, a life ambrosial,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright as the fabled element which fills<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The veins of Gods to whom in Ida's hall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flush'd Hebe brims the urn. The transport broke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The charm that gave it—and the Dreamer woke.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Was it in truth a Dream? He gazed around,<span class='linenum'>136</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And saw the granite of sepulchral walls;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through open doors, along the desolate ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'er coffin dust—the morning sunbeam falls;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On mouldering relics life its splendour flings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The arms of warriors and the bones of kings.—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He stood within that Golgotha of old,<span class='linenum'>137</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whither the Phantom first had led the soul.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was no dream! lo, round those locks of gold<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rest the young sunbeams like an auriole;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, where the day, night's mystic promise keeps,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the tomb a life of beauty sleeps!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Slow to his eyes, those lids reveal their own,<span class='linenum'>138</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And, the lips smiling even in their sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Virgin woke! Oh, never yet was known,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In bower or plaisaunce under summer sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life so enrich'd with nature's happiest bloom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As thine, thou young Aurora of the tomb!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Words cannot paint thee, gentlest cynosure<span class='linenum'>139</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of all things lovely in that loveliest form,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Souls wear—the youth of woman! brows as pure<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As Memphian skies that never knew a storm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lips with such sweetness in their honey'd deeps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As fills the rose in which a fairy sleeps;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Eyes on whose tenderest azure aching hearts<span class='linenum'>140</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Might look as to a heaven, and cease to grieve;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The very blush,—as day, when it departs,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Haloes in flushing, the mild cheek of eve,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Taking soft warmth in light from earth afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heralds no thought less holy than a star.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And Arthur spoke! O ye, all noble souls,<span class='linenum'>141</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Divine how knighthood speaks to maiden fear!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, is it fear which that young heart controuls<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And leaves its music voiceless on the ear?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye, who have felt what words can ne'er express,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say then, is fear as still as happiness?<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 403]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By the mute pathos of an eloquent sign,<span class='linenum'>142</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her rosy finger on her lip, the maid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seem'd to denote that on that coral shrine<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Speech was to silence vow'd. Then from the shade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gliding—she stood beneath the golden skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair as the dawn that brighten'd Paradise.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And Arthur look'd, and saw the Dove no more;<span class='linenum'>143</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yet, by some wild and wondrous glamoury,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Changed to the shape the new companion wore,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His soul the missing Angel seem'd to see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, soft and silent as the earlier guide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soft eyes thrill, the silent footsteps glide.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Through paths his yester steps had fail'd to find,<span class='linenum'>144</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Adown the woodland slope she leads the king,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pausing oft, she turns to look behind,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As oft had turn'd the Dove upon the wing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And oft he question'd, still to find reply<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mute on the lip, yet struggling to the eye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Far briefer now the way, and open more<span class='linenum'>145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To heaven, than those his whilom steps had won;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sudden, lo! his galley's brazen prore<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Beams from the greenwood burnish'd in the sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up from the sward his watchful cruisers spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And loud-lipp'd welcome girds with joy the King.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now plies the rapid oar, now swells the sail;<span class='linenum'>146</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">All day, and deep into the heart of night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flies the glad bark before the favouring gale;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Now Sabra's virgin waters dance in light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the large full moon, on margents green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lone with charr'd wrecks where Saxon fires have been.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here furls the sail, here rests awhile the oar,<span class='linenum'>147</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And from the crews the Cymrians and the maid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pass with mute breath upon the mournful shore;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For, where yon groves the gradual hillock shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A convent stood when Arthur left the land.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God grant the shrine hath 'scaped the heathen's hand!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Landing, on lifeless hearths, through roofless walls<span class='linenum'>148</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And casement gaps, the ghost-like starbeams peer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Welcomed by night and ruin, hollow falls<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The footstep of a King!—Upon the ear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The inexpressible hush of murder lay,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wide yawn'd the doors, and not a watch dog's bay!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 404]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They pass the groves, they gain the holt, and lo!<span class='linenum'>149</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rests of the sacred pile but one grey tower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fort for luxury in the long-ago<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of gentile gods, and Rome's voluptuous power.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But far on walls yet spared, the moonbeams fell,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far on the golden domes of Carduel!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Joy," cried the King, "behold, the land lives still!"<span class='linenum'>150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then Gawaine pointed, where in lengthening line<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Saxon watch-fires from the haunted hill<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(Shorn of its forest old) their blood-red shine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fling over Isca, and with wrathful flush<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gild the vast storm-cloud of the armèd hush.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ay," said the King, "in that lull'd Massacre<span class='linenum'>151</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Doth no ghost whisper Crida—'Sleep no more!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Hark, where I stand, dark murder-chief, on thee<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I launch the doom! ye airs, that wander o'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ruins and graveless bones, to Crida's sleep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bear Cymri's promise, which her king shall keep!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As thus he spoke, upon his outstretch'd arm<span class='linenum'>152</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">A light touch trembled,—turning he beheld<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The maiden of the tomb; a wild alarm<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shone from her eyes; his own their terror spell'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Struggling for speech, the pale lips writhed apart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, as she clung, he heard her beating heart;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While Arthur marvelling soothed the agony<span class='linenum'>153</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which, comprehending not, he still could share,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sudden sprang Gawaine—hark! a timorous cry<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pierced yon dim shadows! Arthur look'd, and where<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On artful valves revolved the stony door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A kneeling nun his knight is bending o'er.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ere the nun's fears the knightly words dispel,<span class='linenum'>154</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As towards the spot the maid and monarch came,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Arthur's brow the slanted moonbeams fell,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the nun knew the King, and call'd his name,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And clasp'd his knees, and sobb'd through joyous tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Once more; once more! our God his people hears!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Kin to his blood—the welcome face of one<span class='linenum'>155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Known as a saint throughout the Christian land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arthur recall'd, and as a pious son<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Honouring a mother—on that sacred hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bent low, in murmuring—"Say, what mercy saves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee, blest survivor in this shrine of graves?"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 405]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then the nun led them through the artful door,<span class='linenum'>156</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mask'd in the masonry, adown a stair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That coil'd its windings to the grottoed floor<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of vaulted chambers desolately fair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wrought in the green hill, like an Oread's home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For summer heats by some soft lord of Rome,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On shells, which nymphs from silver sands might cull,<span class='linenum'>157</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">On paved mosaics, and long-silenced fount,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On marble waifs of the far Beautiful<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By graceful spoiler garner'd from the mount<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of vocal Delphi, or the Elean town,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or Sparta's rival of the violet-crown—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shone the rude cresset from the homely shrine<span class='linenum'>158</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of that new Power, upon whose Syrian Cross<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perish'd the antique Jove! And the grave sign<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the glad faith (which, for the lovely loss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of poet-gods, their own Olympus frees<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To men!—our souls the new Uranides),<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">High from the base on which of old reposed<span class='linenum'>159</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Grape-crown'd Iacchus, spoke the Saving Woe!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The place itself the sister's tale disclosed.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Here, while, amidst the hamlet doom'd below,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Raged the fierce Saxon—was retreat secured;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor gnaw'd the flame where those deep vaults immured.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To peasants, scatter'd through the neighbouring plains,<span class='linenum'>160</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The secret known;—kind hands with pious care<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Supply such humble nurture as sustains<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lives most with fast familiar; thus and there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The patient sisters in their faith sublime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Felt God was good, and waited for His time.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet ever when the crimes of earth and day<span class='linenum'>161</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Slept in the starry peace, to the lone tower<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sainted abbess won her nightly way,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And gazed on Carduel!—'Twas the wonted hour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When from the opening door the Cymrian knight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saw the pale shadow steal along the light.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Musing, the King the safe retreat survey'd,<span class='linenum'>162</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And smooth'd his brow from times most anxious care;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here—from the strife secure, might rest the maid<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not meet the tasks that morn must bring to share;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She, while he mused, the nun's mild aspect eyed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And crept with woman's trust to woman's side.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 406]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"King," said the gentle saint, "from what far clime<span class='linenum'>163</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Comes this fair stranger, that her eyes alone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Answer our mountain tongue?"—"May happier time,"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Replied the King, "her tale, her land, make known!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meanwhile, O kind recluse, receive the guest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To whom these altars seem the native rest."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sister smiled, "In sooth those looks," she said,<span class='linenum'>164</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Do speak a soul pure with celestial air;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the morrow's awful hour of dread<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her heart methinks will echo to our prayer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And breathe responsive to the hymns that swell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Christian's curse upon the infidel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But say, if truth from rumour vague and wild<span class='linenum'>165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To this still world the friendly peasants bring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'That grief and wrath for some lost heathen child,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Urge to yon walls the Mercian's direful king?'"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nay," said the Cymrian, "doth ambition fail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When force needs falsehood, of the glozing tale?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And—but behold she droops, she faints, outworn<span class='linenum'>166</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">By the long wandering and the scorch of day!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale as a lily when the dewless morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Parch'd in the fiery dog-star, wanes away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into the glare of noon without a cloud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er the nun's breast that flower of beauty bow'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet still the clasp retain'd the hand that press'd,<span class='linenum'>167</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And breath came still, though heaved in sobbing sighs.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Leave her," the sister said, "to needful rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And to such care as woman best supplies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And may this charge a conqueror soon recall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And change the refuge to a monarch's hall!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though found the asylum sought, with boding mind<span class='linenum'>168</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The crowning guerdon of his mystic toil<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the kind nun the unwilling King resign'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor till his step was on his mountain soil<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did his large heart its lion calm regain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And o'er his soul no thought but Cymri reign.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As towards the bark the friends resume their way,<span class='linenum'>169</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quick they resolve the conflict's hardy scheme;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With half the Northmen, at the break of day<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shall Gawaine sail where Sabra's broadening stream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Admits a reeded creek, and, landing there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Elude the fleet the neighbouring waters bear;<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 407]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Through secret paths with bush and bosk o'ergrown,<span class='linenum'>170</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wind round the tented hill, and win the wall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Arthur's name arouse the leaguer'd town,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Give the pent stream the cataract's rushing fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweep to the camp, and on the Pagan horde<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Urge all of man that yet survives the sword.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Meanwhile on foot the king shall guide his band<span class='linenum'>171</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Round to the rearward of the vast array<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where yet large fragments of the forest stand<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To shroud with darkness the avenger's way;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thence, when least look'd for, burst upon the foe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On war's own heart direct the sudden blow;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus, front and rear assail'd, their numbers less<span class='linenum'>172</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">(Perplex'd, distraught) avail the heathen's power.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dire was the peril, and the sole success<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the nice seizure of the season'd hour;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The high-soul'd rashness of the bold emprise;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fear that smites the fiercest in surprise;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whatever worth the enchanted boons may bear,<span class='linenum'>173</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The hero heart by which those boons were won;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stubborn strength of that supreme despair,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When victory lost is all a land undone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the Man's cause, and in the Christian's zeal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the just God that sanctions Freedom's steel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Meanwhile, along a cavelike corridor<span class='linenum'>174</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The stranger guest the gentle abbess led;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the voluptuous hypocaust of yore<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Left cells for vestal dreams saint-hallowèd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her own, austerely rude, affords the rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To which her parting kiss consigns the guest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But welcome not for rest that loneliness!<span class='linenum'>175</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The iron lamp the imaged cross displays;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to that guide for souls, what mute distress<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lifts the imploring passion of its gaze?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fear like remorse—and sorrow dark as sin?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enter that mystic heart and look within!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What broken gleams of memory come and go<span class='linenum'>176</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Along the dark!—a silent starry love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lighting young Fancy's virgin waves below,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But shed from thoughts that rest ensphered above!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, flowers whose bloom had perfumed Carmel, weave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wreathes for such love as lived in Genevieve!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 408]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A May noon resteth on the forest hill;<span class='linenum'>177</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">A May noon resteth over ruins hoar;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A maiden muses on the forest hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A tomb's vast pile o'ershades the ruins hoar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With doors now open to each prying blast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where once to rot imperial dust had pass'd;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Through those dark portals glides the musing maid,<span class='linenum'>178</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And slumber drags her down its airy deep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O wondrous trance! in Druid robes array'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What form benignant charms the life-like sleep?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What spells low-chaunted, holy-sweet, like prayer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plume the light soul, and waft it through the air?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Comes a dim sense as of an angel's being,<span class='linenum'>179</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bathed in ambrosial dews and liquid day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of floating wings, like heavenward instincts, freeing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through azure solitudes a spirit's way.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An absence of all earthly thought, desire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aim—hope, save those which love and which aspire;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Each harder sense of the mere human mind<span class='linenum'>180</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Merged into some protective prescience;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm gladness, conscious of a charge consign'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To the pure ward of guardian innocence;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the felt presence, in that charge, of one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose smile to life is as to flowers the sun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Go on, thou troubled Memory, wander on!<span class='linenum'>181</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dull, o'er the bounds of the departing trance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Droops the lithe wing the airier life hath known;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yet on the confines of the dream, the glance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sees—where before he stood—the Enchanter stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bend the vast brow and stretch the shadowy hand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, human sense reviving, on the ear<span class='linenum'>182</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fall words ambiguous, now with happy hours<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And plighted love,—and now with threats austere<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of demon dangers—of malignant Powers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose force might yet the counter charm unbind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If loosed the silence to her lips enjoin'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then, as that Image faded from the verge<span class='linenum'>183</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of life's renew'd horizon—came the day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, ere the last gleams of the vision merge<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Into earth's common light, their parting ray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Arthur's brow the faithful memories leave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the Dove's heart still beats in Genevieve!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 409]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Still she the presence feels,—resumes the guide,<span class='linenum'>184</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till slowly, slowly waned the prescient power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That gave the guardian to the pilgrim's side;—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And only rested, with her human dower<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of gifts sublime to soothe, but weak to save,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And blind to warn,—the Daughter of the Grave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet the lost dream bequeathed for evermore<span class='linenum'>185</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thoughts that did, like a second nature, make<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life to that life the Dove had hover'd o'er<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cling as an instinct,—and, for that dear sake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Danger and Death had found the woman's love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In realms as near the Angels as the Dove.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now and now is she herself the one<span class='linenum'>186</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To launch the bolt on that beloved life?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shuddering she starts, again she hears the nun<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Denounce the curse that arms the awful strife;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again her lips the wild cry stifle,—"See<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crida's lost child, thy country's curse, in me!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Or—if along the world of that despair<span class='linenum'>187</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fleet other spectres—from the ruin'd steep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Points the dread arm, and hisses through the air<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The avenger's sentence on the father's sleep!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dead seem rising from the yawning floor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the shrine steams as with a shamble's gore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sudden she springs, and, from her veiling hands,<span class='linenum'>188</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lifts the pale courage of her calmèd brow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With upward eyes, and murmuring lips, she stands,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Raising to heaven the new-born hope:—and now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glides from the cell along the galleried caves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mute as a moonbeam flitting over waves.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now gain'd the central grot; now won the stair;<span class='linenum'>189</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The lamp she bore gleam'd on the door of stone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why halt? what hand detains?—she turn'd, and there,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On the nun's serge and brow rebuking, shone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tremulous light; then fear her lips unchain'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From that stern silence by the Dream ordain'd,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And at those holy feet the Saxon fell<span class='linenum'>190</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sobbing, "Oh, stay me not! Oh, rather free<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These steps that fly to save <i>his</i> Carduel!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Throne, altars, life—his life! In me, in me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To these strange shrines, thy saints in mercy bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crida's lost Child!—Way, way to save thy king!"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 410]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sister listen'd; gladness, awe, amaze,<span class='linenum'>191</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fused in that lambent atmosphere of soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Faith</span> in the wise All-Good!—so melt the rays<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of varying Iris in the lucid whole<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of light;—"Thy people still to Thee are dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Lord," she murmur'd, "and Thy hand is here!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yes," cried the suppliant, "if my loss deplored,<span class='linenum'>192</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">My fate unguess'd—misled and arm'd my sire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When to his heart his child shall be restored,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sure, war itself will in the cause expire!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ruth come with joy,—and in that happy hour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hate drop the steel, and Love alone have power?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then the nun took the Saxon to her breast,<span class='linenum'>193</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Round the bow'd neck she hung her sainted cross,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And said, "Go forth—O beautiful and blest!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And if my king rebuke me for thy loss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be my reply the gain that loss bestow'd,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hearths for his people, altars for his God!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She ceased;—on secret valves revolv'd the door;<span class='linenum'>194</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">On the calm hill-top breath'd the dawning air;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One moment paused the steps of Hope, and o'er<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The war's vast slumber look'd the Soul of Prayer.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So halts the bird that from the cage hath flown;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A light bough rustled, and the Dove was gone.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 411]</span></p> + +<h2>BOOK XII.</h2> + +<h4>ARGUMENT.</h4> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Preliminary Stanzas—Scene returns to Carduel—a day has passed since the +retreat of the Saxons into their encampment—The Cymrians take advantage +of the enemy's inactivity, to introduce supplies into the famished city—Watch +all that day, and far into the following night, is kept round the corpse +of Caradoc—Before dawn, the burial takes place—The Prophet by the grave +of the Bard—Merlin's address to the Cymrians, whom he dismisses to the +walls, in announcing the renewed assault of the Saxons—Merlin then +demands a sacrifice from Lancelot—gives commissions to the two sons of +Faul the Aleman, and takes Faul himself (to whom an especial charge is +destined) to the city—The scene changes to the Temple Fortress of the +Saxons—The superstitious panic of the heathen hosts at their late defeat—The +magic divinations of the Runic priests—The magnetic trance of the +chosen Soothsayer—The Oracle he utters—He demands the blood of a +Christian maid—The pause of the priests and the pagan king—The abrupt +entrance of Genevieve—Crida's joy—The priests demand the Victim—Genevieve's +Christian faith is evinced by the Cross which the Nun had hung +round her neck—Crida's reply to the priests—They dismiss one of their +number to inflame the army, and so insure the sacrifice—The priests lead +the Victim to the Altar, and begin their hymn, as the Soothsayer wakes +from his trance—The interruption and the compact—Crida goes from the +Temple to the summit of the tower without—The invading march of the +Saxon troops under Harold described—The light from the Dragon Keep—The +Saxons scale the walls, and disappear within the town—The irruption of +flames from the fleet—The dismay of that part of the army that had remained +in the camp—The flames are seen by the rest of the heathen army in the +streets of Carduel—The approach of the Northmen under Gawaine—The +light on the Dragon Keep changes its hue into blood-red, and the Prophet +appears on the height of the tower—The retreat of the Saxons from the city—The +joy of the Chief Priest—The time demanded by the compact has expired—He +summons Crida to complete the sacrifice—Crida's answer—The Priest +rushes back into the Temple—The offering is bound to the Altar—Faul! the +gleam of the enchanted glaive—The appearance of Arthur—The War takes +its last stand within the heathen temple—Crida and the Teuton kings—Arthur +meets Crida hand to hand—Meanwhile Harold saves the Gonfanon, +and follows the bands under his lead to the river-side—He addresses them, +re-forms their ranks, and leads them to the brow of the hill—His embassy +to Arthur—The various groups in the heathen temple described—Harold's +speech—Arthur's reply—Merlin's prophetic address to the chiefs of the two +races—The End.</p></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Flow on, flow on, fair Fable's happy stream,<span class='linenum'>1</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vocal for aye with Eld's first music-chaunt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where, mirror'd far adown the chrystal, gleam<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The golden domes of Carduel and Romaunt;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still one last look on knighthood's peerless ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On moonèd Dream-land and the Dragon King!—<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 412]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Detain me yet amid the lovely throng,<span class='linenum'>2</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hold yet thy <i>Sabbat</i>, thou melodious spell!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still to the circle of enchanted song<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Charm the high Mage of Druid parable,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Fairy, bard-led from her Caspian Sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Genius, lured from caves in Araby!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though me, less fair if less familiar ways,<span class='linenum'>3</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sought in the paths by earlier steps untrod,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Allure—yet ever, in the marvel-maze,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The flowers afar perfume the virgin sod;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The simplest leaf in fairy gardens cull,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And round thee opens all the Beautiful!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alas! the sunsets of our Northern main<span class='linenum'>4</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Soon lose the tints Hesperian Fancy weaves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon the sweet river feels the icy chain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And haunted forests shed their murmurous leaves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bough must wither, and the bird depart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And winter clasp the world—as life the heart!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A day had pass'd since first the Saxons fled<span class='linenum'>5</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Before the Christian, and their war lay still;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From morn to eve the Cymrian riders spread<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where flocks yet graze on some remoter hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale, on the walls, fast-sinking Famine waits,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When hark, the droves come lowing through the gates!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet still, the corpse of Caradoc around,<span class='linenum'>6</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">All day, and far into the watch of night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The grateful victors guard the sacred ground;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But in that hour when all his race of light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leave Eos lone in heaven,—earth's hollow breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oped to the dawn-star and the singer's rest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now, ere they lower'd the corpse, with noiseless tread<span class='linenum'>7</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still as a sudden shadow, Merlin came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the arm'd crowd; and paused before the dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And, looking on the face, thrice call'd the name.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, hush'd through all an awed compassion ran,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all gave way to the old quiet man.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For Cymri knew that of her children none<span class='linenum'>8</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had, like the singer, loved the lonely sage;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All felt, that there a father call'd a son<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Out from that dreariest void,—bereavèd age;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forgot the dread renown, the mystic art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And saw but sacred there—the human heart!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 413]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And thrice the old man kiss'd the lips that smiled,<span class='linenum'>9</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And thrice he call'd the name,—then to the grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hush'd as the nurse that bears a sleeping child<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To its still mother's breast,—the form he gave:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With tender hand composed the solemn rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And laid the harp upon the silent breast.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And then he sate him down, a little space<span class='linenum'>10</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the dark couch, and so of none took heed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But lifting to the twilight skies his face,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That secret soul which never man could read,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far as the soul it miss'd, from human breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rose—where Thought rises when it follows Death!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And swells and falls in gusts the funeral dirge<span class='linenum'>11</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As hollow falls the mould, or swells the mound;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And (Cymri's warlike wont) upon the verge<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The orbèd shields are placed in rows around;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now o'er the dead, grass waves;—the rite is done;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a new grave shall greet a rising sun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then slowly turn'd, and calmly moved the sage,<span class='linenum'>12</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">On the Bard's grave his stand the Prophet took.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High o'er the crowd in all his pomp of age<br /></span> +<span class="i1">August, a glory brighten'd from his look;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hope flash'd in eyes illumined from his own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright, as if there some sure redemption shone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus spoke the Seer: "Hosannah to the brave;<span class='linenum'>13</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lo, the eternal heir-looms of your land!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A realm's great treasure-house! The freeman's grave<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The hero creed that to the swordless hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thought, when heroic, gives an army's might;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And song to nations as to plants the light!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Cymrians, the sun yon towers will scarcely gild,<span class='linenum'>14</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ere war will scale them! Here, your task is o'er.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your walls your camp, your streets your battle-field;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Each house a fortress!—One strong effort more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For God, for Freedom—for your shrines and homes!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">After the Martyr the Deliverer comes!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He ceased; and such the reverence of the crowd,<span class='linenum'>15</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">No lip presumed to question. Wonder hush'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its curious guess, and only Hope aloud<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Spoke in the dauntless shout: each cheek was flush'd:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each eye was bright;—each heart beat high; and all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ranged in due ranks, resought the shatter'd wall:<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 414]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Save only four, whom to that holy spot<span class='linenum'>16</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Prophet's whisper stay'd:—of these, the one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of knightly port and arms, was Lancelot;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But in the ruder three, with garments won<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the wild beast,—long hair'd, large limb'd, again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See Rhine's strong sons, the convert Alemen!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When these alone remain'd beside the mound,<span class='linenum'>17</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Prophet drew apart the Paladin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And said, "What time, feud, worse than famine, found<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Cymrian race, like some lost child of sin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That courts, yet cowers from death;—serene through all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The jarring factions of the maddening hall,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thou didst in vain breathe high rebuke to pride,<span class='linenum'>18</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With words sublimely proud. 'No post the man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ennobles;—man the post! did He who died<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To crown in death the end His birth began,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Assume the sceptre when the cross He braved?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did He wear purple in the world He saved?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Ye clamour which is worthiest of command,—<span class='linenum'>19</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Place me, whose fathers led the hosts of Gaul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amongst the meanest children of your land;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Let me owe nothing to my fathers,—all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To such high deeds as raised, ere kings were known,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The boldest savage to the earliest throne!'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But none did heed thee, and in scornful grief<span class='linenum'>20</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Went thy still footsteps from the raging hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where, by the altar of the bright Belief<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That spans this cloud-world when its sun-showers fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Assured at least thy bride in heaven to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Genevra pray'd—not life but death with thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"There, by the altar, did ye join your hands,<span class='linenum'>21</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And in your vow, scorning malignant Time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye plighted two immortals! in those bands<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hope still wove flowers,—but earth was not their clime;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then to the breach alone, resign'd, consoled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Went Gaul's young hero.—Art thou now less bold?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thy smile replies! Know, while we speak, the King<span class='linenum'>22</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is on the march; each moment that delays<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The foeman, speeds the conqueror on its wing;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If, till the hour is ripe, the Saxon stays<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His rush, then idly wastes it on our wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not ours the homes that burn, the shrines that fall!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 415]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But that delay vouchsafed not—comes in vain<span class='linenum'>23</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The bright achiever of enchanted powers;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He comes a king,—no people but the slain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And round his throne will crash his blazing towers.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is not all; for him, the morn is rife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With one dire curse that threatens more than life;—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A curse, once launch'd, which withers every leaf<span class='linenum'>24</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">In victory's crown, chills youth itself to age!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here magic fails—for over love and grief<br /></span> +<span class="i1">There is no glamour in the brazen page<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Born of the mind, o'er mind extends mine art;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond its circle beats the human heart!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Delay the hour—save Carduel for thy king;<span class='linenum'>25</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Avert the curse; from misery save thy brother!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Thrice welcome death," cried Lancelot, "could it bring<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The bliss to bless mine Arthur! As the mother<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lives in her child, the planet in the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thought in the soul, in Arthur so live I."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Prepare," the Seer replied, "be firm!—and yield<span class='linenum'>26</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The maid thou lovest to her Saxon Sire."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a man lightning-stricken, Lancelot reel'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And as if blinded by the intolerant fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cover'd his face with his convulsive hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And groan'd aloud, "What woe dost thou demand?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yield her! and wherefore? Cruel as thou art!<span class='linenum'>27</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Can Cymri's king or Carduel's destiny<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Need the lone offering of a loving heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nothing to kings and states, but all to me?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Son," said the Prophet, "can the human eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trace by what wave light quivers from the sky;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Explore some thought whose utterance shakes the earth<span class='linenum'>28</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Along the airy galleries of the brain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or say, can human wisdom test the worth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the least link in Fate's harmonious chain?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All doubt is cowardice—all trust is brave—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doubt, and desert thy king;—believe and save."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then Lancelot fix'd his keen eyes on the sage,<span class='linenum'>29</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And said, "Am I the sacrifice or she?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Risks she no danger from the heathen's rage,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">She, the new Christian?"—"Danger more with thee!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can blazing roofs and trampled altars yield<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A shelter surer than her father's shield?<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 416]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If mortal schemes may foil the threatening hour,<span class='linenum'>30</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy heart's reward shall crown thine honour's test;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the same fates that crush the heathen power<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Restore the Christian to the conqueror's breast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, the same lights that gild the nuptial shrine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Arthur, shed a beam as bless'd on thine!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I trust and I submit," said Lancelot,<span class='linenum'>31</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With pale firm lip. "Go thou—I dare not—I!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say, if I yield, that I abandon not!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her form may leave a desert to my eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But here—but <i>here</i>!"—No more his lips could say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He smote his bleeding heart, and went his way!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Enchanter, thoughtful, turn'd, and on the grave<span class='linenum'>32</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">His look relaxing fell,—"Ah, child, lost child!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To thy young life no youth harmonious gave<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Music;—no love thine exquisite griefs beguiled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy soul's deep ocean hid its priceless pearl:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And <i>he</i> is loved and yet repines! O churl!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And murmuring thus, he saw below the mound<span class='linenum'>33</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The stoic brows of the stern Alemen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their gaunt limbs strewn supine along the ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still as gorged lions couch'd before the den<br /></span> +<span class="i0">After the feast; their life no medium knows,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here headlong conflict, there inert repose!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Which of these feet could overtake the roe?<span class='linenum'>34</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which of these arms could grapple with the bear?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My first-born," answer'd Faul, "outstrips the roe;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My youngest crushes in his grasp the bear."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Thou, then, the swift one, gird thy loins, and rise:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See o'er the lowland where the vapour lies,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Far to the right, a mist from Sabra's wave;<span class='linenum'>35</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Amidst that haze explore a creek rush-grown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Screen'd from the waters less remote, which lave<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Saxon's anchor'd barks, and near a lone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grey crag where bitterns boom; within that creek<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gleams through green boughs a galley's brazen peak;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This gain'd, demand the chief, a Christian knight,<span class='linenum'>36</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The bear's rough mantle o'er his rusted mail;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell him from me, to tarry till a light<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Burst from the Dragon keep;—then crowd his sail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fire his own ship—and, blazing to the bay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cleave through yon fleet his red destroying way;<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 417]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"No arduous feat: the galleys are unmann'd,<span class='linenum'>37</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Moor'd each to each; let fire consume them all!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, the shore won, lead hitherwards the band<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Between the Saxon camp and Cymrian wall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What next behoves, the time itself will show,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here counsel ceases;—there ye find the foe!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Heard the wild youth, and no reply made he,<span class='linenum'>38</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">But braced his belt and griped his spear, and straight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the bird flies, he flew. "My son, to thee,"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Next said the Prophet, "a more urgent fate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a more perilous duty are consign'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mark, the strong arm requires the watchful mind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thou hast to pass the Saxon sentinels;<span class='linenum'>39</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou hast to thread the Saxon hosts alone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Many are there whom thy far Rhine expels<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His swarming war-hive,—and their tongue thine own;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take from yon Teuton dead the mail'd disguise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy speech their ears, thy garb shall dupe their eyes;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The watch-pass 'Vingólf'<a name="FNanchor_1_194" id="FNanchor_1_194"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_194" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> wins thee through the van,<span class='linenum'>40</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The rest shall danger to thy sense inspire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that quick light in the hard sloth of man<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Coil'd, till sharp need strike forth the sudden fire.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The encampment traversed, where the woods behind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slope their green gloom, thy stealthy pathway wind;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Keep to one leftward track, amidst the chase<span class='linenum'>41</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Clear'd for the hunter's sport in happier days;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till scarce a mile from the last tent, a space<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Clasping grey crommell stones, will close the maze.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, in the centre of that Druid ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arm'd men will stand around the Cymrian King:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Tell him to set upon the tallest pine<span class='linenum'>42</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Keen watch, and wait, until from Carduel's tower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High o'er the wood a starry light shall shine;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not <i>that</i> the signal, though it nears the hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when the light shall change its hues, and form<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One orb, blood-dyed, as sunsets red with storm;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then, while the foe their camp unguarded leave,<span class='linenum'>43</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And round our walls their tides tempestuous roll,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To yon wood pile, the Saxon fortress, cleave;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Be Odin's Idol the Deliverer's goal.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say to the King, 'In that funereal fane<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Complete thy mission, and thy guide regain!'"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 418]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While spoke the seer, the Teuton's garb of mail<span class='linenum'>44</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The son of Faul had donn'd, and bending now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He kiss'd his father's cheek.—"And if I fail,"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He murmur'd, "leave thy blessing on my brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My father!" Then the convert of the wild<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look'd up to Heaven, and mutely bless'd his child.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thou wend with me, proud sire of dauntless men,"<span class='linenum'>45</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Resumed the seer:—"On thine arm let my age<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lean, as shall thine upon <i>their</i> children!"—Then<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The loreless savage—the all-gifted sage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the strong bonds of will and heart allied;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Went towards the towers of Carduel side by side.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To Crida's camp the swift song rushing flies;<span class='linenum'>46</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Round Odin's shrine wild Priests, rune muttering,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Task the weird omens hateful to the skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pale by the idol stands the grey-hair'd king;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, from without, the unquiet armament<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Booms in hoarse surge, its chafing discontent.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For in defeat (when first that multitude<span class='linenum'>47</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shrunk from a foe, and fled the Cymrian sword)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pride of man the wrath of gods had view'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Religious horror smote the palsied horde;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The field refused, till priest, and seid, and charm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Explore the offence, and wrath divine disarm.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All day, all night, glared fires, dark-red and dull<span class='linenum'>48</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With mystic gums, before the Teuton god,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And waved o'er runes which Mimer's trunkless skull<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had whisper'd Odin—the Diviner's rod,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rank with herbs which baleful odours breathed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bubbling hell-juice in the cauldron seethed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now towards that hour when into coverts dank<span class='linenum'>49</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Slinks back the wolf; when to her callow brood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Veers through still boughs, the owl; when from the bank<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The glow-worm wanes; when heaviest droops the wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere the faint twitter of the earliest lark,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere dawn creeps chill and timorous through the dark;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">About that hour, of all the dreariest,<span class='linenum'>50</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">A flame leaps up from the dull fire's repose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shoots weird sparks along the runes, imprest<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On stone and elm-bark, ranged in ninefold rows;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The vine's deep flush the purpling seid assumes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the strong venom coils in maddening fumes.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 419]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pale grew the elect Diviner's alter'd brows;<span class='linenum'>51</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Swell'd the large veins, and writhed the foaming lips;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as some swart and fateful planet glows<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Athwart the disc to which it brings eclipse;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So that strange Pythian madness, whose control<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seems half to light and half efface the soul,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Broke from the horror of his glazing look;<span class='linenum'>52</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">His breath that died in hollow gusts away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seized by the grasp of unseen tempests, shook<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To its rack'd base the spirit-house of clay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the dark Power made firm the crushing spell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from the man burst forth the voice of hell.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The god—the god! lo, on his throne he reels!<span class='linenum'>53</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Under his knit brows glow his wrathful eyes!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At his dread feet a spectral Valkyr kneels,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And shrouds her face! And cloud is in the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And neither sun nor star, nor day nor night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in the cloud a steadfast Cross of Light!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The god—the god! hide, hide me from his gaze!<span class='linenum'>54</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Its awful anger burns into the brain!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spare me, O spare me! Speak, thy child obeys!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What rites appease thee, Father of the Slain?<a name="FNanchor_2_195" id="FNanchor_2_195"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_195" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">What direful omen do these signs foreshow?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What victim ask'st thou? Speak, the blood shall flow!'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sunk the Possest One—writhing with wild throes;<span class='linenum'>55</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And one appalling silence dusk'd the place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As with a demon's wing. Anon arose,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Calm as a ghost, the soothsayer: form and face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rigid with iron sleep! and hollow fell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From stonelike lips the hateful oracle.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A cloud, where Nornas nurse the thunder, lowers;<span class='linenum'>56</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">A curse is cleaving to the Teuton race;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before the Cross the stricken Valkyr cowers;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Herr-god trembles on his column'd base;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A virgin's loss aroused the Teuton strife;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A virgin's love hath charm'd the Avenger's life;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A virgin's blood alone averts the doom;<span class='linenum'>57</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Revives the Valkyr, and preserves the god.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whet the quick steel—she comes, she comes, for whom<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The runes glow'd blood-red to the soothsayer's rod!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O king, whose wrath the Odin-born array'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Regain the lost, and yield the Christian maid!"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 420]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As if that voice had quicken'd some dead thing<span class='linenum'>58</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To give it utterance, so, when ceased the sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dull eye fix'd, and the faint shuddering<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stirr'd all the frame; then sudden on the ground<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fell heavily the lumpish inert clay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From which the demon noiseless rush'd away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then the grey priests and the grey king creep near<span class='linenum'>59</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The corpselike man; and sit them mutely down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the still fire's red vaporous atmosphere;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The bubbling caldron sings and simmers on;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And through the reeks that from the poison rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Looks the wolf's blood-lust from those cruel eyes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So sat they, musing fell;—when hark, a shout<span class='linenum'>60</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rang loud from rank to rank, re-echoing deep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hark to the tramp of multitudes without!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Near and more near the thickening tumults sweep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">King Crida wrathful rose: "What steps profane<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy secret thresholds, Father of the Slain?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Frowning he strode along the lurid floors,<span class='linenum'>61</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And loud, and loud the invading footsteps ring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His hand impetuous flings apart the doors:—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Who dare insult the god, and brave the king?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift through the throng a bright-hair'd vision came;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those stern lips falter with a daughter's name!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Those hands uplifted, or to curse or smite,<span class='linenum'>62</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fold o'er a daughter's head their tremulous joy!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, to the natural worship of delight,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">How came the monstrous dogma—"To destroy!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sure, Heaven foreshow'd its gospel to the wild<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In earth's first bond—the father and the child!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While words yet fail'd the bliss of that embrace,<span class='linenum'>63</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The muttering priests, unmoved, each other eyed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then to the threshold came their measured pace:—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Depart, Profane," their Pagan pontiff cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Depart, Profane, too near your steps have trod<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To altars darken'd with an angry God.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Dire are the omens! Skulda rides the clouds,<span class='linenum'>64</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her sisters tremble<a name="FNanchor_3_196" id="FNanchor_3_196"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_196" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> at the Urdar spring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hour demands us—shun the veil that shrouds<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Priests, the God, the Victim, and the King."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shuddering, the crowds retreat, and whispering low,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spread the contagious terrors where they go.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 421]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then the stern Elders came to Crida's side,<span class='linenum'>65</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And from their lock'd embrace unclasp'd his hands:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Lo," said their chieftain, "how the gods provide<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Themselves the offering which the shrine demands!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Odin's son be Odin's voice obey'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lost is found—behold, and yield the maid!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As when some hermit saint, in the old day<span class='linenum'>66</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the soul's giant war with Solitude,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From some bright dream which rapt his life away<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Amidst the spheres, unclosed his eyes and view'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twixt sleep and waking, vaguely horrible,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The grisly tempter of the gothic hell;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So on the father's bliss abruptly broke<span class='linenum'>67</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The dreadful memory of his dismal god;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, his eyes pleading ere his terrors spoke,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Look'd round the brows of that foul brotherhood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then his big voice came weak and strangely mild,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"What mean those words?—why glare ye on my child?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Do ye not know her? Elders, she is mine,—<span class='linenum'>68</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">My flesh, my blood, mine age's youngest-born!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why are ye mute? Why point to yonder shrine?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ay,"—and here haughty with the joy of scorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He raised his front.—"Ay, <i>be</i> the voice obey'd!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Priests, ye forget,—it was a <i>Christian</i> maid!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He ceased and laugh'd aloud, as humbled fell<span class='linenum'>69</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Those greedy looks, and mutteringly replied<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faint voices, "True, so said the Oracle!"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When the Arch-Elder, with an eager stride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reach'd child and sire, and cried, "See Crida, there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the maid's breast the cross that Christians wear!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Those looks, those voices, thrill'd through Geneviève,<span class='linenum'>70</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With fears as yet vague, shapeless, undefined:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Father," she murmur'd, "Father, let us leave<br /></span> +<span class="i1">These dismal precincts; how those eyes unkind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Freeze to my soul; sweet father, let us go;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My heart to thine would speak! why frown'st thou so?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Tear from thy breast that sign, unhappy one!<span class='linenum'>71</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sign to thy country's wrathful gods accurst!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back, priests of Odin, I am Odin's son,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And she my daughter; in my war-shield nurst,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rear'd at your altars! Trample down the sign,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O child, and say—the Saxon's God is mine!"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 422]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Infant, who came to bid a war relent,<span class='linenum'>72</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And rob ambition of its carnage-prize,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it on thee those sombre brows are bent?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For thee the death-greed in those ravening eyes?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy task undone, thy gentle prayer unspoken?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ay, press the cross: it is the martyr's token!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She press'd the cross with one firm faithful hand,<span class='linenum'>73</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">While one—(<i>that</i> trembled!)—clasp'd her father's knees;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As clings a wretch, that sinks in sight of land,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To reeds swept with him down the weltering seas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And murmur'd, "Pardon; Him whose agony<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was earth's salvation, I may not deny!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Him who gave God the name I give to thee,<span class='linenum'>74</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">'<span class="smcap">Father</span>,'—in Him, in Christ, is my belief!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then Crida turn'd unto the priests,—"Ye see,"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Smiling, he said, "that I have done with grief:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold the victim! be the God obey'd!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The son of Odin dooms the Christian maid!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He said, and from his robe he wrench'd the hand,<span class='linenum'>75</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And, where the gloom was darkest, stalk'd away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But whispering low, still pause the hellish band;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And dread lest Nature yet redeem the prey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And deem it wise against such chance to arm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The priesthood's puissance with the host's alarm;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To bruit abroad the dark oracular threats,<span class='linenum'>76</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">From which the Virgin's blood alone can save;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gird with infuriate fears the murtherous nets,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And plant an army to secure a grave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The whispers cease—the doors one gleam of day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give—and then close;—the blood-hound slinks away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Around the victim—where with wandering hand,<span class='linenum'>77</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through her blind tears, she seems to search through space<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For him who had forsaken—circling stand<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The solemn butchers; calm in every face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And death in every heart; till from the belt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stretch'd one lean hand and grasp'd her where she knelt.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And her wild shriek went forth and smote the shrine,<span class='linenum'>78</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which echo'd, shrilling back the sharp despair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the waste gaps between the shafts of pine<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To th' unseen father's ear. Before the glare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the weird fire, the sacrifice they chain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To stones impress'd with rune and shamble-stain.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 423]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then wait (for so their formal rites compel)<span class='linenum'>79</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till from the trance that still his senses seals,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Awakes the soothsayer of the oracle;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">At length with tortured spasms, and slowly, steals<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back the reluctant life—slow as it creeps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To one hard-rescued from the drowning deeps.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when from dim, uncertain, swimming eyes<span class='linenum'>80</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The gaunt long fingers put the shaggy hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on the priests, the shrine, the sacrifice,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dwelt the fix'd sternness of the glassy stare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before the god they led the demon-man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And circling round the two their hymn began.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So rapt in their remorseless ecstasy,<span class='linenum'>81</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">They did not hear the quick steps at the door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor that loud knock nor that impatient cry;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till shook,—till crash'd, the portals on the floor,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crash'd to the strong hand of the fiery thane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Harold's stride came clanging up the fane.—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But from his side bounded a shape as light<span class='linenum'>82</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As forms that glide through Elfheim's limber air;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift to the shrine—where on those robes of white<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The gloomy hell fires scowl'd their sullen glare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the death-chaunting choir,—she sprang,—she prest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bow'd her head upon the victim's breast;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And cried, "With thee, with thee, to live or die,<span class='linenum'>83</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With thee, my Geneviève!" The Elders raised<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their hands in wrath, when from as stern an eye<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And brow erect as theirs, they shrunk amazed—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Harold spoke, "Ye priests of Odin, hear!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your gods are mine, their voices I revere.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Voices in winds, in groves, in hollow caves,<span class='linenum'>84</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Oracular dream, or runic galdra sought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ages ere from Don's ancestral waves<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Such wizard signs the Scythian Odin brought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A voice that needs no priesthood's sacred art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some earlier God placed in the human heart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I bow to charms that doom embattled walls:<span class='linenum'>85</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">To dreams revealing no unworthy foe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A warrior's god in Glory's clarion calls;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where war-steeds snort, and hurtling standards flow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when weak women for strong men must die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Man's proud nature gives your Gods the lie!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 424]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If—not yon seer by fumes and dreams beguiled,<span class='linenum'>86</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">But Odin's self stood where his image stands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against the god I would protect my child!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ha, Crida!—come!—<i>thy</i> child in chains!—those hands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lifted to smite!—and thou, whose kingly bann<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arms nations,—wake, O statue, into man!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For from his lair, and to his liegeman's side,<span class='linenum'>87</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had Crida listening strode: When ceased the Thane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His voice, comprest and tremulous, replied,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"The life thou plead'st for doth these shrines profane.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Odin's son a father lives no more;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yon maid adores the God our foes adore."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And I—and I, stern king!"—Genevra cries,<span class='linenum'>88</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Her God is mine, and if that faith is crime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be just—and take a twofold sacrifice!"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Cease," cried the Thane,—"is this, ye Powers, a time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For kings and chiefs to lean on idle blades,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our leaders dreamers, and our victims maids?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Be varying gods by varying tribes addrest,<span class='linenum'>89</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">I scorn no gods that worthy foes adore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brave was the arm that humbled Harold's crest,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And large the heart that did his child restore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To all the valiant Gladsheim's Halls unclose;<a name="FNanchor_4_197" id="FNanchor_4_197"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_197" class="fnanchor">[4]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Heaven the comrades were on Earth the foes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And if our Gods are wrath, what wonder, when<span class='linenum'>90</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Their traitor priests creep whispering coward fears;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unnerve the arms and rot the hearts of men,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And filch the conquest from victorious spears?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes, reverend elders, <i>one</i> such priest I found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cheer'd my bandogs on the meaner hound!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Be dumb, blasphemer," cried the Pontiff seer,<span class='linenum'>91</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Depart, or dread the vengeance of the shrine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Depart, or armies from these floors shall hear<br /></span> +<span class="i1">How chiefs can mock what nations deem divine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, let her Christian faith thy daughter boast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And brave the answer of the Teuton host!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A paler hue shot o'er the hardy face<span class='linenum'>92</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the great Earl, as thus the Elder spoke;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But calm he answer'd, "Summon Odin's race;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On me and mine the Teuton's wrath invoke!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let shuddering fathers learn what priests can dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And warriors judge if <i>I</i> their Gods blaspheme!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 425]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But peace and hearken.—To the king I speak:—<span class='linenum'>93</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With mine own lithsmen, and such willing aid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As Harold's tromps arouse,—yon walls I seek;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Be Cymri's throne the ransom of the maid.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Carduel's wall if Saxon standards wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let Odin's arms the needless victim save!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Grant me till noon to prove what men are worth,<span class='linenum'>94</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who serve the War God by the warlike deed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Refuse me this, King Crida, and henceforth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Let chiefs more prized the Mercian armies lead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I, blunt Harold, join no cause with those<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, wolves for victims, are as hares to foes!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Scornful he ceased, and lean'd upon his sword;<span class='linenum'>95</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whispering the Priests, and silent Crida, stood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A living Thor to that barbarian horde<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Was the bold Thane, and ev'n the men of blood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Felt Harold's loss amid the host's dismay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would rend the clasp that link'd the wild array.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At length out spoke the priestly chief, "The gods<span class='linenum'>96</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Endure the boasts, to bow the pride, of men;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Well of Wisdom sinks in Hell's abode;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Læca shines beside the bautasten,<a name="FNanchor_5_198" id="FNanchor_5_198"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_198" class="fnanchor">[5]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Truth too oft illumes the eyes that scorn'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the death-flash from which in vain it warn'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Be the delay the pride of man demands<span class='linenum'>97</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vouchsafed, the nothingness of man to show!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gods unsoften'd, march thy futile bands:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till noon, we spare the victim;—seek the foe!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when with equal shadows rests the sun—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The altar reddens, or the walls are won!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"So be it," the Thane replied, and sternly smiled;<span class='linenum'>98</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then towards the sister-twain, with pitying brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whispering he came,—"Fair friend of Harold's child,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Let our own gods at least be with thee now;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pray that the Asas bless the Teuton strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And guide the swords that strike for thy sweet life."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Alas!" cried Geneviève, "Christ came to save,<span class='linenum'>99</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not slay: He taught the weakest how to die;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For me, for <i>me</i>, a nation glut the grave!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That nation Christ's, and—No, the victim <i>I</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not now for <i>life</i>, my father, see me kneel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But one kind look,—and then, how blunt the steel!"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 426]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And Crida moved not! Moist were Harold's eyes;<span class='linenum'>100</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bending, he whisper'd in Genevra's ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Thy presence is her safety! Time denies<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All words but these;—hope in the brave; revere<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gods they serve;—by acts our faith we test;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The holiest gods are where the men are best."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"With this he turn'd, "Ye priests," he call'd aloud,<span class='linenum'>101</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">"On every head within these walls, I set<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dread weregeld for the compact; blood for blood!"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then o'er his brows he closed his bassinet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shook the black death-pomp of his shadowy plume,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his arm'd stride was lost amidst the gloom.—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And still poor Geneviève with mournful eyes<span class='linenum'>102</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gazed on the father, whose averted brows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had more of darkness for her soul than lies<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Under the lids of death. The murmurous<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lurid air buzzed with a ghostlike sound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From patient Murder's iron lip;—and round<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The delicate form which, like a Psyche, seem'd<span class='linenum'>103</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Beauty sublimed into the type of soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fresh from such stars as ne'er on Paphos beam'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When first on Love the chastening vision stole,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sister virgin coil'd her clasp of woe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'n as that Sorrow which the Soul must know<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Till Soul and Love meet never more to part.<span class='linenum'>104</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">At last, from under his wide mantle's fold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The strain'd arms lock'd on his loud-beating heart<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(As if the anguish which the king controll'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The man could stifle),—Crida toss'd on high;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And nature conquer'd in the father's cry!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Over the kneeling form swept his grey hair;<span class='linenum'>105</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">On the soft upturn'd eyes prest his wild kiss;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then recoiling, with a livid stare,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He faced the priests, and mutter'd, "Dotage this!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crida is old,—come—come;" and from the ring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beckon'd their chief, and went forth tottering.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out of the fane, up where the stair of pine<span class='linenum'>106</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wound to the summit of the camp's rough tower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">King Crida pass'd. On moving armour shine<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The healthful beams of the fresh morning hour;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He hears the barb's shrill neigh,—the clarion's swell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And half his armies march to Carduel.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 427]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Far in the van, like Odin's fatal bird<span class='linenum'>107</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wing'd for its feast, sails Harold's raven plume.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now from the city's heart a shout is heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wall, bastion, tower, their steel-clad life resume;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far shout! faint forms! yet seem they loud and clear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To that strain'd eyeball and that feverish ear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But not on hosts that march by Harold's side,<span class='linenum'>108</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gazed the stern priest, who stood with Crida there;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On sullen gloomy groups—discatter'd wide,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Grudging the conflict they refused to share,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or seated round rude tents and pilèd spears;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Circling the mutter of rebellious fears;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Or, near the temple fort, with folded arms<span class='linenum'>109</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">On their broad breasts, waiting the deed of blood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On these he gazed—to gloat on the alarms<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That made <i>him</i> monarch of that multitude!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not one man there had pity in his eye.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the priest smiled,—then turn'd to watch the sky.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the sky deepen'd, and the time rush'd on.<span class='linenum'>110</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Crida sees the ladders on the wall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dust-clouds gather round his gonfanon;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And through the dust-clouds glittering rise and fall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The meteor lights of helms, and shields, and glaives;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up o'er the rampires mount the labouring waves;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And joyous rings the Saxon's battle shout;<span class='linenum'>111</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Cymri's angel cry wails like despair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from the Dragon Keep a light shines out,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Calm as a single star in tortured air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To whose high peace, aloof from storms, in vain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Looks a lost navy from the violent main.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now on the nearest wall the Pale Horse stands;<span class='linenum'>112</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Now from the wall the Pale Horse lightens down;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And flash and vanish, file on file, the bands<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Into the rent heart of the howling town;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the Priest paling frown'd upon the sun,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though the sky deepen'd and the time rush'd on.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When from the camp around the fane, there rose<span class='linenum'>113</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ineffable cries of wonder, wrath, and fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With some strange light that scares the sunshine, glows<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'er Sabra's waves the crimson'd atmosphere;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dun from out the widening, widening glare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like Hela's serpents, smoke-reeks wind through air.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 428]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Forth look'd the king, appall'd! and where his masts<span class='linenum'>114</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Soar'd from the verge of the far forest-land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He hears the crackling, as when vernal blasts<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shiver Groninga's pines—"Lo, the same hand,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cried the fierce priest, "which sway'd the soothsayer's rod,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Writes now the last runes of thine angry god!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And here and there, and wirbelling to and fro,<span class='linenum'>115</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Confused, distraught, pale thousands spread the plain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some snatch their arms in haste, and yelling go<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where the fleets burn; some creep around the fane<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like herds for shelter; prone on earth lie some<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrieking, "The Twilight of the Gods hath come!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the great glare hath redden'd o'er the town,<span class='linenum'>116</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And seems the strife it gildeth to appall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flock back dim straggling Saxons, gazing down<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The lurid valleys from the jagged wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still as on Cuthite towers Chaldean seers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When some red portent flamed into the spheres.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now from brake and copse—from combe and dell,<span class='linenum'>117</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gleams break;—steel flashes;—helms on helms arise;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faint heard at first,—now near, now thunderous,—swell<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Cymrian mingled with the Baltic cries;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, loud alike in each, exulting came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">War's noblest music—a Deliverer's name.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Arthur!—for Arthur!—Arthur is at hand!<span class='linenum'>118</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Woe, Saxons, woe!" Then from the rampart height<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vanish'd each watcher; while the rescue-band<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sweep the clear slopes; and not a foe in sight!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now the beacon on the Dragon Keep:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Springs from pale lustre into hues blood-deep:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And on that tower stood forth a lonely man;<span class='linenum'>119</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Full on his form the beacon glory fell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And joy revived each sinking Cymrian;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">There, the still Prophet watch'd o'er Carduel!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back o'er the walls, and back through gate and breach,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now ebbs the war, like billows from the beach.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Along the battlements swift crests arise,<span class='linenum'>120</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Swift follow'd by avenging, smiting brands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fear and flight are in the Saxon cries!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The portals vomit bands on hurtling bands;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lo, wide streaming o'er the helms,—again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Pale Horse flings on angry winds its mane!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 429]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And facing still the foe, but backward borne<span class='linenum'>121</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">By his own men, towers high one kingliest chief;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deep through the distance roll his shout of scorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the grand anguish of a hero's grief.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bounded the Priest!—"The Gods are heard at last!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proud Harold flieth;—and the noon is past!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come, Crida, come." Up as from heavy sleep<span class='linenum'>122</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The grey-hair'd giant raised his awful head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As, after calmest waters, the swift leap<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the strong torrent rushes to its bed,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So the new passion seized and changed the form,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if the rest had braced it for the storm.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No grief was in the iron of that brow;<span class='linenum'>123</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Age cramp'd no sinew in that mighty arm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Go," he said sternly, "where it fits thee, thou:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy post with Odin—mine with Managarm!<a name="FNanchor_6_199" id="FNanchor_6_199"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_199" class="fnanchor">[6]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let priests avert the dangers kings must dare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My shrine yon Standard, and my Children—<i>there</i>!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So from the height he swept—as doth a cloud<span class='linenum'>124</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">That brings a tempest when it sinks below;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift strides a chief amidst the jarring crowd;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Swift in stern ranks the rent disorders grow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift, as in sails becalm'd swells forth the wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wide mass quickens with the one strong mind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Meanwhile the victim, to the Demon vow'd,<span class='linenum'>125</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Knelt; every thought wing'd for the Angel goal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ev'n the terror which the form had bow'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Search'd but new sweetness where it shook the soul.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Self was forgot, and to the Eternal Ear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prayer but for others spoke the human fear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when at moments from that rapt communion<span class='linenum'>126</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With the Invisible Holy, those young arms<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clasp'd round her neck, to childhood's happy union<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the old days recall'd her; such sweet charms<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did Comfort weave, that in the sister's breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grief like an infant sobb'd itself to rest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up leapt the solemn priests from dull repose:<span class='linenum'>127</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The fires were fann'd as with a sudden wind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While shrieking loud, "Hark, hark, the conquering foes!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Haste, haste, the victim to the altar bind!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rush'd to the shrine the haggard Slaughter-Chief.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the strong gusts that whirl the fallen leaf<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 430]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I' the month when wolves descend, the barbarous hands<span class='linenum'>128</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Plunge on the prey of their delirious wrath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wrench'd from Genevra's clasp;—Lo, where she stands,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On earth no anchor,—is she less like Faith?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The same smile firmly sad, the same calm eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The same meek strength;—strength to forgive and die!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hear us, O Odin, in this last despair!<span class='linenum'>129</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hear us, and save!" the Pontiff call'd aloud;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"By the Child's blood we shed, thy children spare!"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the knife glitter'd o'er the breast that bow'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dropp'd blade;—fell priest!—blood chokes a gurgling groan;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blood,—blood <i>not Christian</i>, dyes the altar-stone!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Deep in the <small>DOOMER'S</small> breast it sank—the dart;<span class='linenum'>130</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As if from Fate it came invisibly;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where is the hand?—from what dark hush shall start<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Foeman or fiend?—no shape appalls the eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No sound the ear!—ice-lock'd each coward breath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Power the Deathsman call'd, hath heard him—Death!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"While yet the stupor stuns the circle there,<span class='linenum'>131</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fierce shrieks—loud feet—come rushing through the doors:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Women with outstretch'd arms and tossing hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And flying warriors, shake the solemn floors;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thick as the birds storm-driven on the decks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of some lone ship—the last an ocean wrecks.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And where on tumult, tumult whirl'd and roar'd,<span class='linenum'>132</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shrill'd cries, "The fires around us and behind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the last Fire-God and the Flaming-Sword!"<a name="FNanchor_7_200" id="FNanchor_7_200"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_200" class="fnanchor">[7]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And from without, like that destroying wind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In which the world shall perish, grides and sweeps<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Victory</span>—swift-cleaving through the battle deeps!—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Victory</span>, by shouts of terrible rapture known,<span class='linenum'>133</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through crashing ranks it drives in iron rain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Borne on the wings of fire it blazes on;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It halts its storm before the fortress fane;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And through the doors, and through the chinks of pine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flames its red breath upon the paling shrine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Roused to their demon courage by the dread<span class='linenum'>134</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the wild hour, the priests a voice have found;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To pious horror show their sacred dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Invoke the vengeance, and explore the ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, like the fiend in monkish legends known,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sprang a grim image on the altar-stone!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 431]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wolf's hide bristled on the shaggy breast<span class='linenum'>135</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Over the brows, the forest buffalo<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With horn impending arm'd the grisly crest,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From which the swart eye sent its savage glow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long shall the Saxon dreams that shape recall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ghastly legends teem with tales of <span class="smcap">Faul</span>!<a name="FNanchor_8_201" id="FNanchor_8_201"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_201" class="fnanchor">[8]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Needs here to tell, that when, at Merlin's hest,<span class='linenum'>136</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Faul led to Harold's tent the Saxon maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wrathful Thane had chased the skulking priest<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the paled ranks, that evil Bode<a name="FNanchor_9_202" id="FNanchor_9_202"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_202" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> dismay'd:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the grim tidings of the rite to come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flew lip to lip through that awed Heathendom.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Foretaught by Merlin of her mission there,<span class='linenum'>137</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Scarce to her father's heart Genevra sprung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than (while most soften'd) her impassion'd prayer<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pierced to its human deeps; and, roused and stung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By that keen pity, keenest in the brave,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strength felt why strength is given, and rush'd to save:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Amidst those quick emotions half forgot,<span class='linenum'>138</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Follow'd the tutor'd furtive Aleman;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On, when the portals crash'd, still heeded not,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stole his light step behind the striding Thane.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From coign to shaft the practised glider crept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A shadow, lost where shadows darkest slept.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And safe and screen'd the idol god behind,<span class='linenum'>139</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">He who once lurk'd to slay, kept watch to save;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now <i>there</i> he stood! And the same altar shrined<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The wild man, the wild god! and up the nave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flight flow'd on flight; and near and loud, the name<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of "<span class="smcap">Arthur</span>" borne as on a whirlwind came.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Down from the altar to the victim's side,<span class='linenum'>140</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">While yet shrunk back the priests—the savage leapt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with quick steel gash'd the strong cords that tied;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When round them both the rallying vengeance swept;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Raised every arm;—O joy!—the enchanted glaive<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shines o'er the threshold! is there time to save?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A torch whirls hissing through the air—it falls<span class='linenum'>141</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Into the centre of the murderous throng!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dread herald of dread steps! the conscious halls<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quake where the falchion flames and flies along;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though crowd on crowd behold the falchion cleave!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Silver Shield rests over Geneviève!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 432]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bright as the shape that smote the Assyrian,<span class='linenum'>142</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The fulgent splendour from the arms divine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Paled the hell-fires round God's elected Man,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And burst like Truth upon the demon-shrine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the thousands stood the Conquering One,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still, lone, and unresisted as a sun!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now through the doors, commingling side by side,<span class='linenum'>143</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Saxon and Cymrian struggle hand in hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For there the war, in its fast ebbing tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flings its last prey—there, Crida takes his stand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There his co-monarchs hail a funeral pyre<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That opes Walhalla from the grave of fire.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And as a tiger swept adown a flood<span class='linenum'>144</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">With meaner beasts, that dyes the howling water<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which whirls it onward, with a waste of blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And gripes a stay with fangs that leave the slaughter,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So where halts Crida, groans and falls a foe—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And deep in gore his steps receding go.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And his large sword has made in reeking air<span class='linenum'>145</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Broad space (through which, around the golden ring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That crownlike clasps the sweep of his grey hair,)<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shine the tall helms of many a Teuton king;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord of the West—broad-breasted Chevaline;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Ymrick's son of Hengist's giant line;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fierce Sibert, throned by Britain's kingliest river,<span class='linenum'>146</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Elrid, honour'd in Northumbrian homes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And many a sire whose stubborn soul for ever<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shadows the fields where England's thunder comes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High o'er them all his front grey Crida rears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As some old oak whose crest a forest clears.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">High o'er them all, that front fierce Arthur sees,<span class='linenum'>147</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And knows the arch-invader of the land;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift through the chiefs—swift path his falchion frees;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Corpse falls on corpse before the avenger's hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For fair-hair'd Ælla, Cantia's maids shall wail;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hurl'd o'er the dead, rings Elrid's crashing mail;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His follower's arms stunn'd Sibert's might receive,<span class='linenum'>148</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And from the death-blow snatch their bleeding lord;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now behold, O fearful Geneviève,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'er thy doom'd father shines the charmèd sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shaking, as it shone, the glorious blade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hand for very wrath the death delay'd.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 433]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"At last, at last we meet, on Cymri's soil;<span class='linenum'>149</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And foot to foot! Destroyer of my shrines,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And murderer of my people! Ay, recoil<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Before the doom thy quailing soul divines!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ay—turn thine eyes,—nor hosts nor flight can save!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy foe is Arthur—and these halls thy grave!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Flight," laugh'd the king, whose glance had wander'd round,<span class='linenum'>150</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where through the throng had pierced a woman's cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Flight for a chief, by Saxon warriors crown'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And from a Walloon!—this is my reply!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, both hands heaving up the sword enorme,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swept the swift orbit round the luminous form;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Full on the gem the iron drives its course,<span class='linenum'>151</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And shattering clinks in splinters on the floor;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The foot unsteadied by the blow's spent force,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Slides on the smoothness of the soil of gore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gore, quench the blood-thirst! guard, O soil, the guest!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Freedom's heel is on the Invader's breast!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When, swift beneath the flashing of the blade,<span class='linenum'>152</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">When, swift before the bosom of the foe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She sprang, she came, she knelt,—the guardian maid!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And startling vengeance from the righteous blow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cried, "Spare, oh spare, this sacred life to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A father's life!—I would have died for thee!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While thus within, the Christian God prevails,<span class='linenum'>153</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Without the idol temple, fast and far,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like rolling storm-wrecks, shatter'd by the gales,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fly the dark fragments of the Heathen War,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where, through the fires that flash from camp to wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Escape the land that locks them in its grave?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When by the Hecla of their burning fleet<span class='linenum'>154</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dismay'd amidst the marts of Carduel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Saxons rush'd without the walls to meet<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Vikings' swords, which their mad terrors swell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into a host—assaulted, rear and van,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The foe scarce smote before the flight began.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In vain were Harold's voice, and name, and deeds,<span class='linenum'>155</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unnerved by omen, priest, and shapeless fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And less by man than their own barbarous creeds<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Appall'd,—a God in every shout they hear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in their blazing barks behold unfurl'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wings of Muspell<a name="FNanchor_10_203" id="FNanchor_10_203"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_203" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> to consume the world.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 434]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet still awhile the heart of the great Thane,<span class='linenum'>156</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the stout few that gird the gonfanon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Build a steel bulwark on the midmost plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That stems all Cymri,—so Despair fights on.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When from the camp the new volcanoes spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With sword and fire he comes,—the Dragon King!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then all, save Harold, shriek to Hope farewell;<span class='linenum'>157</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Melts the last barrier; through the clearing space,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On towards the camp the Cymrian chiefs compel<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The ardent followers from the tempting chase;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through Crida's ranks to Arthur's side they gain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And blend two streams in one resistless main.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">True to his charge as chief, 'mid all disdain<span class='linenum'>158</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of recreant lithsmen—Harold's iron soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sees the storm sweep beyond it o'er the plain;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And lofty duties, yet on earth, control<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The yearnings for Walhalla:—Where the day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Paled to the burning ships—he tower'd away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And with him, mournful, drooping, rent and torn,<span class='linenum'>159</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">But captive not—the Pale Horse dragg'd its mane.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside the fire-reflecting waves, forlorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As ghosts that gaze on Phlegethon—the Thane<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saw listless leaning o'er the silent coasts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spectre wrecks of what at morn were hosts.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tears rush'd to burning eyes, and choked awhile<span class='linenum'>160</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The trumpet music of his manly voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At length he spoke: "And are ye then so vile!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A death of straw! Is that the Teuton's choice?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By all our gods, I hail that reddening sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bless the burning fleets which flight deny!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lo, yet the thunder clothes the charger's mane,<span class='linenum'>161</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">As when it crested Hengist's helmet crown!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What ye have lost—an hour can yet regain;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Life has no path so short as to renown!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrunk if your ranks,—when first from Albion's shore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your sires carved kingdoms, were their numbers more?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If not your valour, let your terrors speak.<span class='linenum'>162</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where fly?—what path can lead ye from the foes?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where hide?—what cavern will not vengeance seek?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What shun ye? Death?—Death smites ye in repose!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back to your king: from Hela snatch the brave—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We best escape, when most we scorn, the grave."<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 435]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Roused by the words, though half reluctant still,<span class='linenum'>163</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The listless ranks reform their slow array,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sullen but stern they labour up the hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And gain the brow!—In smouldering embers lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The castled camp, and slanting sunbeams shed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light o'er the victors—quiet o'er the dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hush'd was the roar of war—the conquer'd ground<span class='linenum'>164</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Waved with the glitter of the Cymrian spears;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The temple fort the Dragon standard crown'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Christian anthems peal'd on Pagan ears;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Mercian halts his bands—their front surveys;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No fierce eye kindles to his fiery gaze.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One dull, dishearten'd, but not dastard gloom<span class='linenum'>165</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Clouds every brow,—like men compell'd to die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who see no hope that can elude the doom,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Prepared to fall but powerless to defy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not those the ranks, yon ardent hosts to face!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Hour had conquer'd earth's all-conquering race.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The leader paused, and into artful show,<span class='linenum'>166</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Doubling the numbers with extended wing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Here halt," he said, "to yonder hosts I go<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With terms of peace or war to Cymri's king."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He turn'd, and towards the Victor's bright array,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With tromp and herald, strode his bitter way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Before the signs to war's sublime belief<span class='linenum'>167</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sacred, the host disparts its hushing wave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moved by the sight of that renownèd chief,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Joy stills the shout that might insult the brave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And princeliest guides the stately foeman bring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Odin's temple shrines the Christian king.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The North's fierce idol, roll'd in pools of blood,<span class='linenum'>168</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lies crush'd before the Cross of Nazareth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crouch'd on the splinter'd fragments of their god,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Silent as clouds from which the tempest's breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has gone,—the butchers of the priesthood rest.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each heavy brow bent o'er each stony breast.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Apart, the guards of Cymri stand around<span class='linenum'>169</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The haught repose of captive Teuton kings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With eyes disdainful of the chains that bound,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And fronts superb—as if defeat but flings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A kinglier grandeur over fallen power:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So suns shine larger in their setting hour.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 436]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From these remote, unchain'd, unguarded, leant<span class='linenum'>170</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">On the gnarl'd pillar of the fort of pine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Saturn of the Titan armament,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His looks averted from the alter'd shrine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence iron Doom the antique Faith has hurl'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For that new Jove who dawns upon the world!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And one broad hand conceal'd the monarch's face;<span class='linenum'>171</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And one lay calm on the low-bended head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the forgiving child, whose young embrace<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Clasp'd that grey wreck of Empire! All had fled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heart of pride:—Thrones, hosts, the gods! yea all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That scaled the heaven, strew'd Hades with their fall!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But Natural Love, the household melody,<span class='linenum'>172</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Steals through the dearth,—resettling on the breast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bird returning with the silenced sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sings in the ruin, and rebuilds its nest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Home came the Soother that the storm exiled,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Crida's hand lay calm upon his child!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Beside her sister saint, Genevra kneeleth,<span class='linenum'>173</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mourning her father's in her Country's woes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And near her, hushing iron footsteps, stealeth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The noblest knight the wondrous Table knows—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whispering low comfort into thrilling ears—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Harold's plume floats up the flash of spears.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the proud Earl, with warning hand and eye,<span class='linenum'>174</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Repels the yearning arms, the eager start;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man amidst men, his haughty thoughts deny<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To foes the triumph o'er his father's heart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quickly he turn'd—where shone amidst his ring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of subject planets, the Hyperion King.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There Tristan grateful—Agrafayn uncouth,<span class='linenum'>175</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Owaine comely with the battle-scar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Geraint's lofty age, to venturous youth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Glory and guide, as to proud ships a star,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Gawaine sober'd to his gravest smile,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lean on the spears that lighten through the pile.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There stood the stoic Alemen sedate,<span class='linenum'>176</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Blocks hewn from man, which love with life inspired;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, by the Cross, from eyes serene with Fate,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Look'd into space the Mage! and carnage-tired,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Ægis shields, like Jove's still thunders, lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thine ocean giants, Scandinavia!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 437]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But lo, the front, where conquest's auriole<span class='linenum'>177</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shone, as round Genius marching at the van<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of nations;—where the victories of the soul<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stamp'd Nature's masterpiece, perfected Man:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair as young Honour's vision of a king<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fit for bold hearts to serve, free lips to sing!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So stood the Christian Prince in Odin's hall,<span class='linenum'>178</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gathering in one, Renown's converging rays;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, in the hour of triumph, turn, from all<br /></span> +<span class="i1">War's victor pomp, his memory and his gaze;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Miss that last boon the mission should achieve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rest where droops the dove-like Genevieve.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now at the sight of Mercia's haughty lord,<span class='linenum'>179</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">A loftier grandeur calms yet more his brow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leaning lightly on his sheathless sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Listening he stood, while spoke the Earl:—"I bow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not to war's fortune, but the victor's fame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thine is so large, it shields thy foes from shame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Prepared for battle, proffering peace I come;<span class='linenum'>180</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">On yonder hills eno' of Saxon steel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remains, to match the Cymrian Christendom;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not slaves with masters, men with men would deal.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We cannot leave your land, our chiefs in gyves,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While chains gall Saxons, Saxon war survives.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Our kings, our women, and our priests release,<span class='linenum'>181</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And in their name I pledge (no mean return)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A ransom worthy of both nations—Peace;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Peace with the Teuton! On your hills shall burn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more the beacon; on your fields no more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The steed of Hengist plunge its hoofs in gore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Peace while this race remains—(our sons, alas,<span class='linenum'>182</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">We cannot bind!) Peace with the Mercian men:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is the ransom. Take it, and we pass<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Friends from a foeman's soil: reject it,—then<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Firm to this land we cling, as if our own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the last Saxon falls, or Cymri's throne!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Abrupt upon the audience dies the voice,<span class='linenum'>183</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And varying passions stir the murmurous groups;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, to the wiser; there, the haughtier choice:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Youth rears its crest; but age foreboding droops;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chiefs yearn for fame; the crowds to safety cling;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The murmurs hush, and thus replies the King:—<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 438]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Foe, thy proud speech offends no manly ear.<span class='linenum'>184</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">So would I speak, could our conditions change.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peace gives no shame, where war has brought no fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">We fought for freedom,—we disdain revenge;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The freedom won, no cause for war remains,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And loyal Honour binds more fast than chains.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The Peace thus proffer'd, with accustom'd rites,<span class='linenum'>185</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hostage and oath, confirm, ye Teuton kings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ye are free! Where we, the Christians, fight,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Our Valkyrs sail with healing on their wings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We shed no blood but for our fatherland!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so, frank soldier, take this soldier's hand!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Low o'er that conquering hand, the high-soul'd foe<span class='linenum'>186</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bow'd the war plumed upon his raven crest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Caught from those kingly words, one generous glow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Chased Hate's last twilight from each Cymrian breast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Humbled, the captives hear the fetters fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Power's tranquil shadow—mercy, awes them all!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dark scowl the Priests;—with vengeance priestcraft dies!<span class='linenum'>187</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Slow looks, where Pride yet struggles, Crida rears;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Crida's child rest Arthur's soft'ning eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Crida's child is weeping happy tears;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Lancelot, closer at Genevra's side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pales at the compact that may lose the bride.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When from the altar by the holy rood,<span class='linenum'>188</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Come the deep accents of the Cymrian Mage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sublimely bending o'er the multitude<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thought's Atlas temples crown'd with Titan age,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er Druid robes the beard's broad silver streams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As when the vision rose on virgin dreams.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hearken, ye Scythia's and Cimmeria's sons,<span class='linenum'>189</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose sires alike by golden rivers dwelt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When sate the Asas on their hunter thrones;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When Orient vales rejoiced the shepherd Celt;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While <span class="smcap">Eve's</span> young races towards each other drawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Roved lingering round the Eden gates of dawn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Still the old brother-bond in these new homes,<span class='linenum'>190</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">After long woes shall bind your kindred races;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here, the same God shall find the sacred domes;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the same landmarks bound your resting-places,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What time, o'er realms to Heus and Thor unknown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both Celt and Saxon rear their common throne.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 439]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Meanwhile, revere the Word the viewless Hand<span class='linenum'>191</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Writes on the leaves of kingdom-dooming stars;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through Prydain's Isle of Pines, from sea to land,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where yet Rome's eagle leaves the thunder scars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sceptre sword of Saxon kings shall reach,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And new-born nations speak the Teuton's speech;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"All save thy mountain empire, Dragon King!<span class='linenum'>192</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">All save the Cymrian's Ararat—Wild Wales!<a name="FNanchor_11_204" id="FNanchor_11_204"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_204" class="fnanchor">[11]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here Cymrian bards to fame and God shall sing—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Here Cymrian freemen breathe the hardy gales,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the same race that Heus the Guardian led,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rise from these graves—when God awakes the dead!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Prophet paused, and all that pomp of plumes<span class='linenum'>193</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bow'd as the harvest which the south wind heaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, while the breeze disturbs, the beam illumes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And blessings gladden in the trembling sheaves.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He paused, and thus renew'd: "Thrice happy, ye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Founders of shrines and sires of kings to be!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hear, Harold, type of the strong Saxon soul,<span class='linenum'>194</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Supple to truth, untameable by force,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy dauntless blood through Gwynedd's chiefs shall roll,<a name="FNanchor_12_205" id="FNanchor_12_205"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_205" class="fnanchor">[12]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through Scotland's monarchs take its fiery course,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And flow with Arthur's, in the later days,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through Ocean-Cæsars, either zone obeys.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Man of the manly heart, reward the foe<span class='linenum'>195</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who braved thy sword, and yet forbore thy breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who loved thy child, yet could the love forego<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And give the sire;—thy looks supply the rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I read thine answer in thy generous glance!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stand forth—bold child of Christian Chevisaunce!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then might ye see a sight for smiles and tears,<span class='linenum'>196</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Young Lancelot's hand in Harold's cordial grasp,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While from his breast the frank-eyed father rears<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The cheek that glows beneath the arms that clasp;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Shrink'st thou," he said, "from bonds by fate reveal'd?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go—rock my grandson in the Cymrian's shield!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And ye," the solemn voice resumed, "O kings!<span class='linenum'>197</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hearken, Pendragon, son of Odin, hear!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is a mystery in the heart of things,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which Truth and Falsehood seek alike with fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Truth from heaven, to Falsehood, breathed from hell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comes yet to both the unquiet oracle.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 440]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Not vainly, Crida, priest, and rune, and dream,<span class='linenum'>198</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Warn'd thee of fates commingling into one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The silver river and the mountain stream;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From Odin's daughter and Pendragon's son,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall rise the royalties of farthest years<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Born to the birthright of the Saxon spears.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The bright decree that seem'd a curse to hate,<span class='linenum'>199</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Blesses both races when fulfill'd by love;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Cymri's Dragon England's power shall date,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And peace be born to Cymri from the Dove.<a name="FNanchor_13_206" id="FNanchor_13_206"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_206" class="fnanchor">[13]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eternal links let nuptial garlands weave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Cymri's queen be Saxon Genevieve!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Perplex'd, reluctant with the pangs of pride,<span class='linenum'>200</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And shadowy doubts from dark religion thrown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stern Crida, lingering, turn'd his face aside;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then rise the elders from the idle stone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From fallen chains the kindred Teutons spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low murmurs rustle round the moody king;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On priest and warrior, while they whisper, dwells<span class='linenum'>201</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The searching light of that imperious eye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Warrior and priest, the prophet word compels;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And overmasters like a destiny—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When towards the maid the radiant conqueror drew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And said, "Enslaver, it is mine to sue!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To Crida, then, "Proud chief, I do confess<span class='linenum'>202</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The loftier attribute 'tis thine to boast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pride of kings is in the power to bless,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The kingliest hand is that which gives the most;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Priceless the gift I ask thee to bestow,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But doubly royal is a generous foe!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then forth—subdued, yet stately, Crida came,<span class='linenum'>203</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the last hold in that rude heart was won:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Hero, thy conquest makes no more my shame,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He shares thy glory who can call thee 'Son!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So may this love-knot bind and bless the lands!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faltering he spoke—and join'd the plighted hands.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There flock the hosts as to a holy ground,<span class='linenum'>204</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">There, where the dove at last may fold the wing!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His mission ended, and his labours crown'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fair as in fable stands the Dragon King—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Below the Cross, and by his prophet's side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Carduel's knighthood kneeling round his bride.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 441]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What gallant deeds in gentle lists were done,<span class='linenum'>205</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">What lutes made joyaunce sweet in jasmine bowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let others tell:—Slow sets the summer sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Slow fall the mists, and closing, droop the flowers;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faint in the gloaming dies the vesper bell,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Dream-land sleeps round golden Carduel.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 442]</span></p> +<h2>NOTES TO KING ARTHUR.</h2> + +<h4>BOOK I.</h4> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_1_63" id="Footnote_1_63"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_63">1.—Page 201, stanza iv.</a></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>While Cymri's dragon, from the Roman's hold,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Spread with calm wing o'er Carduel's domes of gold.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The Carduel of the <span class="smcap">Fabliaux</span> is not easily ascertained: it is here +identified with Caerleon on the Usk, the favourite residence of Arthur, +according to the Welch poets. This must have been a city of no +ordinary splendour in the supposed age of Arthur, while still fresh +from the hands of the Roman; since, so late as the twelfth century, +Giraldus Cambrensis, in his well-known description, speaks as an +eye-witness of the many vestiges of its former splendour. "Immense +palaces, ornamented with gilded roofs, in imitation of Roman magnificence, +a tower of prodigious size, remarkable hot baths, relics +of temples," &c. (Giraldus Cambrensis, Sir R. Hoare's translation, +vol. i. p. 103.) Geoffrey of Monmouth (1. ix. c. 12) also mentions, +admiringly, the gilt roofs of Caerleon, a subject on which he might be a +little more accurate than in those other details in his notable chronicle, +not drawn from the same ocular experience. The luxurious Romans, +indeed, had bequeathed to the chiefs of Britain abodes of splendour +and habits of refinement which had no parallel in the Saxon domination. +Sir F. Palgrave truly remarks, that even in the fourteenth century the +edifices raised in Britain by the Romans were so numerous and costly +as almost to excel any others on this side of the Alps. Caerleon (Isca +Augusta) was the Roman capital of Siluria, the garrison of the renowned +Second or Augustan legion, and the Palatian residence of the Prætor. +It was not, however, according to national authority, founded by the +Romans, but by the mythical Belin Mawr, three centuries before +Cæsar's invasion. It is scarcely necessary to observe, that the dragon +was the standard of the Cymry (a word, by the way, which I trust my +Welch readers will forgive me for spelling Cymri).</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_2_64" id="Footnote_2_64"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_64">2.—Page 203, stanza xviii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>And through the vale the shrill <small>BON-LEF-HER</small> rings.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The shout of war.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_3_65" id="Footnote_3_65"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_65">3.—Page 204, stanza xix.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>So from the <span class="smcap">Rock of Birds</span> the shout of war.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The Rock of Birds—<span class="smcap">Craig y Deryn</span>—so called from the number of +birds (chiefly those of prey) that breed on them.</p></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 443]</span></p> + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_4_66" id="Footnote_4_66"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_66">4.—Page 206, stanza xxxiii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>And found no billow where its beam could rest.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +"Qual d'acqua chiara il tremolante lume," &c.—<span class="smcap">Ariosto</span>, canto viii., +stanza 71.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_5_67" id="Footnote_5_67"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_67">5.—Page 207, stanza xlv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Where sate <span class="smcap">Duw-Iou</span>, ere his reign was lost.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Duw-Iou (the Taranus of Lucan), the most solemn and august, +though not the most popular of the Druidical divinities; answering to +the classic Jupiter.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_6_68" id="Footnote_6_68"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_68">6.—Page 209, stanza liv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>And the Pale Horse rose ghastly o'er the dead.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The White Horse, the standard of the Saxons.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_7_69" id="Footnote_7_69"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_69">7.—Page 211, stanza lxx.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Shook to the foot-tread of invading Gaul.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +<span class="smcap">Pausan.</span> <i>Phoc.</i> c. 28.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_8_70" id="Footnote_8_70"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_70">8.—Page 212, stanza lxxvi.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Of polish'd Chivalry, the primal ten.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The ten manly games (Gwrolgampau).</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_9_71" id="Footnote_9_71"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_71">9.—Page 212, stanza lxxvii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Which <span class="smcap">Heus</span>, the Guardian, taught the Celt to wield.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +<span class="smcap">Heus</span> is the same deity as <span class="smcap">Esus</span>, or <span class="smcap">Hesus</span>, mentioned in Lucan, the +Mars of the Celts. According to the Welch triads, <span class="smcap">Heus</span> (or <span class="smcap">Hu</span>—Hu +Gadarn; <i>i. e.</i> the mighty Guardian, or Inspector) brought the +people of Cymry first into this isle, from the summer country called +Defrobanni (in the Tauric Chersonese), over the Hazy Sea (the German +Ocean). Davies, in his Celtic Researches, observes that some commentator, +at least as old as the twelfth century, repeatedly explains the +situation of Defrobanni as "that on which Constantinople now stands." +"This comment," adds Davies, "would not have been made without +some authority; it belongs to an age which possessed many documents +relating to the history of the Britons which are now no longer extant." +</p><p> +It would be extremely important towards tracing the origin of the +Cymry, if authentic and indisputable records of such traditions of their +migration from the East can be found in their own legends at an age +before learned conjecture could avail itself of the passages in Herodotus +and Strabo, which relate to the Cimmerians, and tend to identify that +people with our Cymrian ancestors. We find in the first (1. i. c. 14), +that the Cimmerians, chased from their original settlements by the +Nomadic Scythians, came to Lydia, where they took Sardis (except the +citadel). In this account Strabo, on the authority of Callisthenes and +Callinus, confirms Herodotus. +</p><p> +In flying from their Scythian foes, the Cimmerians took their course +by the sea-coasts to Sinope, and the Cimmerian Bosphorus, and as, after +this flight, the old Cimmerian league was broken up, and the tribes +dispersed, this gives us the evident date for such migrations as +Hu Gadarn is supposed to head; and the coincidence between Welch +traditions (if genuinely ancient) and classical authority becomes very +remarkable. For the additional corroboration of the hypothesis thus +suggested, which is afforded by the identity between the Cimmerians +of Asia and the Cimbri of Gaul, see Strabo (1. vii. p. 424, the Oxford +edition, 1807). It is curious to note in Herodotus (1. iv. c. 11) that the +same domestic feuds which destroyed the Cymrian empire in Britain +destroyed the Cimmerians in their original home. While the Scythians +invaded them, they quarrelled amongst themselves whether to fight or +fly, and settled the dispute by fighting each other, and flying from the +enemy.</p></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 444]</span></p> + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_10_72" id="Footnote_10_72"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_72">10.—Page 212, stanza lxxvii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Our Titan sires from Defrobanni's plain.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +"Our Titan sires,"—according to certain mythologists, the Celts, or +Cimmerians, were the Titans.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_11_73" id="Footnote_11_73"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_73">11.—Page 214, stanza xciii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Strides in the circles of unthinking men.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Imitated from Schiller.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_12_74" id="Footnote_12_74"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_74">12.—Page 215, stanza c.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10"><i>And frank Gawaine,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Whom mirth for ever, like a fairy child,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Lock'd from the cares of life.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Some liberty, in the course of this poem, will be taken with the +legendary character, less perhaps of the Gawaine of the Fabliaux, than +of the Gwalchmai (Hawk of Battle) of the Welch bards. In both, +indeed, this hero is represented as sage, courteous, and eloquent; but +he is a livelier character in the Fabliaux than in the tales of his native +land. The characters of many of the Cymrian heroes, indeed, vary +according to the caprice of the poets. Thus Kai, in the Triads, one of +the Three Diademed chiefs of battle and a powerful magician, is, in the +French romances, Messire Queux, the chief of the cooks; and in the +Mabinogion,<a name="FNanchor_A_76" id="FNanchor_A_76"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_76" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> he is at one time but an unlucky knight of more valour +than discretion, and at another time attains the dignity assigned to +him in the Triads, and exults in supernatural attributes. And poor +Gawaine himself, the mirror of chivalry, in most of the Fabliaux is, as +Southey observes, "shamefully calumniated" in the <span class="smcap">Mort D'Arthur</span> +as the "false Gawaine." The Caradoc of this poem is not intended to be +identified with the hero Caradoc Vreichvras. The name was sufficiently +common in Britain (it is the right reading for Caractacus) to allow to +the use of the poet as many Caradocs as he pleases.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_13_75" id="Footnote_13_75"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_75">13.—Page 216, stanza ciii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Frank youth, high thoughts, crown'd Nature's kings in both.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Lancelot was, indeed, the son of a king, but a dethroned and a +tributary one. The popular history of his infancy will be told in a +subsequent book.</p></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 445]</span></p> + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_14_77" id="Footnote_14_77"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_77">14.—Page 216, stanza cvii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Welcome <span class="smcap">Bal-Huan</span> back to yon sweet sky.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Bal-Huan, the sun. Those heaps of stone found throughout Britain +(Crugiau or Carneu), were sacred to the sun in the Druid worship, and +served as beacons in his honour on May eve. May was his consecrated +month. The rocking-stones which mark these sanctuaries were called +amber-stones.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_15_78" id="Footnote_15_78"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_78">15.—Page 216, stanza cvii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>May fill with joy the <span class="smcap">Vale of Melody</span>.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Cwm-pPenllafar, the Vale of Melody—so called (as Mr. Pennant +suggests) from the music of the hounds when in full cry over the +neighbouring Rock of the Hunter.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h4>NOTES TO BOOK II.</h4> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_1_79" id="Footnote_1_79"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_79">1.—Page 218, stanza iii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>By lips as gay the Hirlas horn is quaft.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The Hirlas, or drinking-horn, made of the buffalo horn, enriched +with gold or silver. The Hirlas song of "Owen Prince of Powys" is +familiar to all lovers of Welch literature.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_2_80" id="Footnote_2_80"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_80">2.—Page 219, stanza viii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Therein Sir Brut, expell'd from flaming Troy.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Caradoc's version of the descent of Brut differs somewhat from that +of Geoffrey of Monmouth, but perhaps it is quite as true. According +to Geoffrey, Brut is great-grandson to Æneas, and therefore not expelled +from "<i>flaming</i> Troy." Caradoc follows his own (no doubt authentic) +legends, also, as to the aboriginal population of the island, which, +according to Geoffrey, were giants, not devils. The cursory and contemptuous +way in which that delicious romance-writer speaks of these +poor giants is inimitable—"<i>Albion a nemine, exceptis paucis gigantibus, +inhabitabatur.</i>"—"Albion was inhabited by nobody—<i>except, indeed, +a few giants</i>!"</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_3_81" id="Footnote_3_81"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_81">3.—Page 219, stanza viii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>And bids that Saint, who now speaks Welch on high.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Saint <span class="smcap">bran</span>, the founder of one of the three sacred lineages of Britain, +was the first introducer of Christianity among the Cymry.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_4_82" id="Footnote_4_82"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_82">4.—Page 223, stanza xxxv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>And thou, fair favourite in the Fairy court.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Gwyn-ab-nudd, the king of the fairies. He is, also, sometimes less +pleasingly delineated as the king of the infernal regions; the Welch +Pluto—much the same as, in the chivalric romance-writers, Proserpine +is sometimes made the queen of the fairies.</p></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 446]</span></p> + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_5_83" id="Footnote_5_83"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_83">5.—Page 226, stanza lv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>"Arthur my name, from <span class="smcap">Ynys Vel</span> I come.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Ynys Vel; one of the old Welch names for England.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_6_84" id="Footnote_6_84"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_84">6.—Page 227, stanza lxv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>"A witch."—"All women till they're wed are witches!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The witch <span class="smcap">Mourge</span>, or <span class="smcap">Morgana</span> (historically <span class="smcap">Anna</span>), was Arthur's +sister.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_7_85" id="Footnote_7_85"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_85">7.—Page 228, stanza lxxiv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Loud neigh'd the destrier at the welcome clang.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +<i>Destrier</i>;—This word has been objected to, but it is so familiarly used +by our Anglo-Norman minstrels, as well as by the great Masters of +romantic poetry, that I have ventured, though not without diffidence, +to retain it. <span class="smcap">Montaigne</span>, in his chapter on "the Warhorses called +Destriers," derives the word from the Latin <i>Dextrarius</i>.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h4>NOTES TO BOOK III.</h4> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_1_86" id="Footnote_1_86"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_86">1.—Page 243, stanza xlviii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Pass from the spear-storm to The Golden Hall!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Walhalla.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_2_87" id="Footnote_2_87"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_87">2.—Page 243, stanza xlix.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Were cross'd by <span class="smcap">Skulda</span>, in the baleful skein.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Skulda, the Norna, or Destiny, of the Future.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_3_88" id="Footnote_3_88"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_88">3.—Page 243, stanza xlix.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Of him who dares 'The Choosers of the Slain.'</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The Valkyrs, the Choosers of the Slain, who ride before the battle, +and select its victims; to whom, afterwards (softening their character), +they administer in Walhalla.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_4_89" id="Footnote_4_89"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_89">4.—Page 245, stanza lx.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>When Cæsar bridged with marching steel the Rhine.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Plut. <i>in vit. Cæs.</i>—<span class="smcap">Cæs.</span> <i>Comment.</i> lib. iv.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_5_90" id="Footnote_5_90"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_90">5.—Page 246, stanza lxxi.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>So bloom'd the Hours, when from the heaving sea.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Hom. <i>Hymn</i>.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_6_91" id="Footnote_6_91"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_91">6.—Page 246, stanza lxxii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Or shy Napææ, startled from their sleep.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Napææ, the most bashful of all the rural nymphs; their rare apparition +was supposed to produce delirium in the beholder.</p></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 447]</span></p> + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_7_92" id="Footnote_7_92"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_92">7.—Page 247, stanza lxxv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>A wise Etrurian chief, forewarn'd ('twas said)</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>By his dark Cære, from the danger fled.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Cære of the twelve cities in the Etrurian league (though not +originally an Etrurian population), imparted to the Romans their +sacred mysteries: hence the word Cæremonia. This holy city was in +close connection with Delphi. An interesting account of it under its +earlier name "Agylla," will be found in Sir W. Gell's "Topography of +Rome and its vicinity." The obscure passage in Plutarch's Life of +Sylla, which intimates that the Etrurian soothsayers had a forewarning +of the declining fates of their country, is well known to scholars; who +have made more of it than it deserves. +</p><p> +I may as well observe that the adjective <i>Lartian</i> is derived from +<i>Lars</i> (or lord), in contradistinction to the adjective <i>Larian</i> derived +from <i>Lar</i> (or household god).</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_8_93" id="Footnote_8_93"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_93">8.—Page 248, stanza lxxxi.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>His rod the Augur waves above the ground,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And cries, "In Tina's name I bless the soil.</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Tina was the Jove of the Etrurians. The mode in which this people +(whose mysterious civilization so tasks our fancy and so escapes from +our researches) appropriated a colony, is briefly described in the text. +The Augur made lines in the air due north, south, east, and west, +marked where the lines crossed upon the earth; then he and the chiefs +associated with him sate down, covered their heads, and waited some +approving omen from the gods. The Etrurian Augurs were celebrated +for their power over the electric fluid. The vulture was a popular bird +of omen in the founding of colonies. See <span class="smcap">Niebuhr</span>, <span class="smcap">Muller</span>, &c.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_9_94" id="Footnote_9_94"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_94">9.—Page 248, stanza lxxxiv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Tombs only speak the Etrurian's language;—hurl'd.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The Etrurian language perished between the age of Augustus and +that of Julian.—<span class="smcap">Leitch's</span> <i>Muller on Ancient Art</i>.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_10_95" id="Footnote_10_95"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_95">10.—Page 248, stanza lxxxiv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>To dust the shrines of Naith;—the serpents hiss.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Naith, the Egyptian goddess.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_11_96" id="Footnote_11_96"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_96">11.—Page 249, stanza lxxxix.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The Hister's lyre still thrill'd with Camsee's lays.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Hister, the Etruscan minstrel.—<span class="smcap">Camsee</span>, <span class="smcap">Camese</span>, or <span class="smcap">Camœse</span>, the +mythological sister of Janus (a national deity of the Etrurians), whose art +of song is supposed to identify her with the Camœna or muse of the Latin +poets.—<span class="smcap">Arretium</span>, celebrated for the material of the Etruscan vases.</p></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 448]</span></p> + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_12_97" id="Footnote_12_97"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_97">12.—Page 249, stanza xciii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>and all the honours of the race</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Lend their last bloom to smile in Ægle's face.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The Etrurians paid more respect to women than most of the classical +nations, and admitted females to the throne. The Augur (a purely +Etruscan name and office) was the highest power in the state. In the +earlier Etruscan history, the Augur and the king were unquestionably +united in one person. Latterly, this does not appear to have been +necessarily (nor perhaps generally) the case. The king (whether we +call him lars or lucumo), as well as the augur, was elected out of a +certain tribe, or clan; but in the strange colony described in the poem, +it is supposed that the rank has become hereditary in the family of the +chief who headed it, as would probably have been the case even in more +common-place settlements in another soil. Thus, the first Etrurian +colonist, Tarchun, no doubt had his successors in his own lineage. +</p><p> +I cannot assert that Ægle is a purely Etruscan name; it is one +common both with the Greeks and Latins. In Apollodorus (ii. 5) it is +given to one of the Hesperides, and in Virgil (Eclog. vi. l. 20) to the +fairest of the Naiads, the daughter of the sun; but it is not contrary +to the conformation of the Etruscan language, as, by the way, many of +the most popular Latinized Etruscan words are, such as <i>Lucumo</i>, for +Lauchme; and even Porsena, or, as Virgil (contrary to other authorities) +spells and pronounces it, Pors[~e]nna (a name which has revived to +fresh fame in Mr. Macaulay's noble "Lays") is a sad corruption; for, +as both Niebuhr and Sir William G. remark, the Etruscans had no <i>o</i> in +their language. Pliny informs us that they supplied its place by the <i>v</i>. +I apprehend that an Etrurian would have spelt Porsena <i>Pvrsna</i>.<a name="FNanchor_A_103" id="FNanchor_A_103"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_103" class="fnanchor">[B]</a></p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_13_98" id="Footnote_13_98"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_98">13.—Page 250, stanza xcvii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The Gods had care of their Tagetian child!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Tages—the tutelary genius of the Etrurians. They had a noble +legend that Tages appeared to Tarchun, rising from a furrow beneath +his plough, with a man's head and a child's body; sung the laws +destined to regulate the Etrurian colonist, then sunk, and expired. In +Ovid's Metamorphoses (xvi. 533) Tages is said to have first taught the +Etrurians to foretell the future.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_14_99" id="Footnote_14_99"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_99">14.—Page 250, stanza c.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The fane of Mantu form'd the opposing bound.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +<span class="smcap">Mantu</span>, or <span class="smcap">Mandu</span>, the Etrurian God of the Shades.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_15_100" id="Footnote_15_100"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_100">15.—Page 251, stanza ciii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>He leaves the bright hall where the Æsars dwell.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Æsars, the name given <i>collectively</i> to the Etrurian deities.—<span class="smcap">Suet. +Aug. 97. Dio. Cass.</span> xxvi. p. 589.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_16_101" id="Footnote_16_101"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_101">16.—Page 251, stanza cv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Of that bright Wanderer from the Olympian sky.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Apollo.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_17_102" id="Footnote_17_102"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_102">17.—Page 251, stanza cvii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Those forms of dark yet lustrous loveliness.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Whatever the original cradle of the mysterious Etrurians, scholars, +with one or two illustrious exceptions, are pretty well agreed that it +must have been <i>somewhere</i> in the East; and the more familiar we +become with the remains of their art, the stronger appears the evidence +of their early and intimate connection with the Egyptians, though in +themselves a race decidedly not Egyptian. See <span class="smcap">Micali</span>, <i>Stor. deg. +Antich. Pop.</i> But in referring to this delightful and learned writer, to +whom I am under many obligations in this part of my poem, I must +own, with such frankness as respect for so great an authority will +permit, that I think many of his assumptions are to be taken with +great qualification and reserve.</p></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 449]</span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h4>NOTES TO BOOK IV.</h4> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_1_104" id="Footnote_1_104"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_104">1.—Page 255, stanza xi.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Like that in which the far <span class="smcap">Saronides</span>.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Saronides—the Druids of Gaul: "The Samian Sage"—<span class="smcap">Pythagoras.</span>. +The Augur is here supposed to speak Phœnician as the parent language +of Arthur's native Celtic. See note 2.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_2_105" id="Footnote_2_105"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_105">2.—Page 255, stanza xi.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Exchanged dark riddles with the Samian sage.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Diodorus Siculus speaks with great respect of the <span class="smcap">Saronides</span> as the +Druid priests of Gaul; and Mr. Davis, in his Celtic Researches, insists +upon it that <i>Saronides</i> is a British word, compounded from <i>sêr</i>, stars; +and <i>honydd,</i> "one who discriminates or points out:" in fine, according +to him, the Saronides are Seronyddion, i. e. <i>astronomers</i>. For the initiation +of Pythagoras into the Druid mysteries, see <span class="smcap">Clem. Alex</span>. <i>Strom. +L. i. Ex. Alex. Polyhist</i>. It will be observed that the author here +takes advantage of the well-known assertions of many erudite authorities +that the Phœnician language is the parent of the Celtic, in order +to obtain a channel of oral communication between Arthur and the +Etrurian;<a name="FNanchor_A_106" id="FNanchor_A_106"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_106" class="fnanchor">[C]</a> though, contented with those authorities, as sufficing for +all poetic purpose, he prudently declines entering into a controversy +equally abstruse and interminable, as to the affinity between the +countrymen of Dido and the scattered remnants of the Briton. It is +not surprising that the Augur should know Phœnician, for we have +only to suppose that he maintained, as well as he could in his retreat, +the knowledge common among his priestly forefathers. The intercourse +between Etruria and the Phœnician states (especially Carthage) +was too considerable not to have rendered the language of the last +familiar to the learning of the first;—to say nothing of those more +disputable affinities of origin and religion, which, if existing, would +have made an acquaintance with Phœnicia necessary to the solution +of their historical chronicles and sacred books. Nor, when the Augur +afterwards assures Arthur that Ægle also understands Phœnician, is +any extravagant demand made upon the credulity of the indulgent +reader; for, those who have consulted such lights as research has +thrown upon Etrurian records, are aware that their more high-born +women appear to have received no ordinary mental cultivation.</p></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 450]</span></p> + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_3_107" id="Footnote_3_107"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_107">3.—Page 256, stanza xiv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>In <span class="smcap">Luna's</span> gulf, the sea-beat crews carouse.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Luna, a trading town on the gulf of Spezia, said to have been founded +by the Etrurian Tarchun.—See <span class="smcap">Strabo</span>, lib. v.; <span class="smcap">Cat.</span> Orig. <span class="smcap">xxv.</span> In a +fragment of Ennius, Luna is mentioned. In Lucan's time it was deserted, +"desertæ mœnia Lunæ."—<span class="smcap">Luc.</span> i. 586.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_4_108" id="Footnote_4_108"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_108">4.—Page 256, stanza xiv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Cœre foretold hath come <span class="smcap">Rasena</span>!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Rasena was the name which the Etrurians gave to themselves.—<span class="smcap">Twiss's +NIEBUHR</span>, vol. i. c. vii. <span class="smcap">Muller</span>, <i>die Etrüsker</i>: <span class="smcap">Dion.</span> i. 30.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_5_109" id="Footnote_5_109"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_109">5.—Page 256, stanza xviii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The bliss that Northia singles for your lot.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Northia, the Etrurian deity which corresponds with the <span class="smcap">Fortune</span> +of the Romans, but probably with something more of the sterner attributes +which the Greek and the Scandinavian gave to the <span class="smcap">Fates</span>. I +cannot but observe here on the similarity in sound and signification +between the Etrurian Northia and the Norna of the Scandinavians. +Norna with the last is the general term applied to Fate. The Etrurian +name for the deities collectively—<span class="smcap">Æsars</span>, is not dissimilar to that given +collectively to their deities by the Scandinavians; viz. <span class="smcap">Æsir</span>, or <span class="smcap">Asas</span>.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_6_110" id="Footnote_6_110"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_110">6.—Page 257, stanza xix.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Spite of the Knight of Thrace,—Sir Belisair.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Belisarius, whose fame was then just rising under Justinian. The +Ostrogoth, Theodoric, was on the throne of Italy.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_7_111" id="Footnote_7_111"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_111">7.—Page 257, stanza xxii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>"Ah," said the Augur—"here, I comprehend</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Egypt, and Typhon, and the serpent creed!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +It is clear that all which the bewildered Augur could comprehend, +in the theological relations by which Arthur (no doubt with equal +glibness and obscurity) relieves his historical narrative, would be that, +in "worsting Satan," the Emperor of Greece is demolishing the Typhon +worship of the Egyptians, and enforcing the adoration of the Dorian +Apollo—that deity who had passed a probation on earth, and expiated +a mysterious sin by descending to the shades; and it would require a +more erudite teacher than we can presume Arthur to be, before the +Augur would cease to confuse with the Pagan divinity the Divine +Founder of the Christian gospel.</p></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 451]</span></p> + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_8_112" id="Footnote_8_112"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_112">8.—Page 259, stanza xxxiii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Astolfo spoke from out the bleeding tree.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Ariosto, canto vi.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_9_113" id="Footnote_9_113"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_113">9.—Page 259, stanza xxxvi.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Lo, now where pure Sabrina on her breast.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Sabrina, the Severn; whose legendary tale Milton has so exquisitely +told in the Comus.—<span class="smcap">Isca</span>, the Usk.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_10_114" id="Footnote_10_114"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_114">10.—Page 259, stanza xxxviii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Drawn on the sands lay coracles of hide.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The ancient British boats, covered with coria or hydes—"The ancient +Britons," as Mr. Pennant observes, "had them of large size, and even +made short voyages in them, according to the accounts we receive from +Lucan."—<span class="smcap">Pennant</span>, vol. i. p. 303.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_11_115" id="Footnote_11_115"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_115">11.—Page 260, stanza xl.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>In Cymrian lands—where still the torque of gold.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The twisted chain, or collar, denoted the chiefs of all the old tribes +known as Gauls to the Romans. It is by this badge that the critics in +art have rightly decided that the statue called "The Dying Gladiator" +is in truth meant to personify a wounded Gaul. The collar, or torque, +was long retained by the chiefs of Britain—and allusions to it are +frequent in the songs of the Welsh.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_12_116" id="Footnote_12_116"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_116">12.—Page 261, stanza xlviii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The story heard, the son of royal <span class="smcap">ban</span>.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +According to the French romance-writers, Lancelot was the son of +King Ban of Benoic, a tributary to the Cymrian crown. The Welch +claim him, however, as a national hero, in spite of his name, which +they interpret as a translation from one of their own—Paladr-ddelt, +splintered spear. (<span class="smcap">Lady C. Guest's</span> <i>Mabinogion</i>, vol. i. p. 91.) In a +subsequent page, Lancelot tells the tale (pretty nearly as it is told in +the French romance) which obtained him the title of "Lancelot of the +Lake."—See note in <span class="smcap">Ellis's</span> edition of <span class="smcap">Way's</span> <i>Fabliaux</i>, vol. ii. p. 206.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_13_117" id="Footnote_13_117"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_117">13.—Page 265, stanza lxxvi.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>On earth's far confines, like the Tree of Dreams.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"In medio ramos," &c.—<span class="smcap">Virgil</span>, lib. vi. 282.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"An elm displays her dusky arms abroad,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And empty dreams on every leaf are spread."—<span class="smcap">Dryden.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_14_118" id="Footnote_14_118"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_118">14.—Page 265, stanza lxxx.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>To the wild faith of Iran's Zendavest.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Zendavest. Compare the winged genius of the Etrurians with the +Feroher of the Persians, in the sculptured reliefs of Persepolis. (See +<span class="smcap">Heeren's</span> <i>Historical Researches, art. Persians</i>.) <span class="smcap">Micali</span>, vol. ii. p. 174, +points out some points of similarity between the Persian and Etrurian +cosmogony. It was peculiar to the Etrurians, amongst the classic +nations of Europe, to delineate their deities with wings. Even when +they borrowed some Hellenic god, they still invested him with this +attribute, so especially Eastern.</p></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 452]</span></p> + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_15_119" id="Footnote_15_119"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_119">15.—Page 266, stanza lxxxiii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Seem'd as the thread in fairy tales, which strung.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +In a legend of Bretagne, a fairy weaves pearls round a sunbeam, to +convince her lover of her magical powers.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_16_120" id="Footnote_16_120"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_120">16.—Page 267, stanza xc.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Of Morn's sweet Maid had died, look'd calm above.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Hom. <i>Odys.</i>, lib. v.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_17_121" id="Footnote_17_121"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_121">17.—Page 267, stanza xciii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>O'er the Black Valley, demon shadows fleet.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Cwm Idwal (in Snowdonia). "A fit place to inspire murderous +thoughts,—environed with horrible precipices shading a lake lodged in +its bottom. The shepherds fable that it is the haunt of demons, and that +no bird dare fly over its damned waters."—<span class="smcap">Pennant</span>, vol. iii. p. 324.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_18_122" id="Footnote_18_122"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_122">18.—Page 269, stanza cvi.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>No more from Mantu Pales shall control.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Mantu, the God of the Shades—<span class="smcap">Pales</span>, the Pastoral Deity.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h4>NOTES TO BOOK V.</h4> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_1_123" id="Footnote_1_123"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_123">1.—Page 273, stanza iii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>First, Muse of Cymri, name the Council Three.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Three counselling knights were in the court of Arthur, which were +Cynon the son of Clydno Eiddin, Aron the son of Kynfarch ap Meirchion-gul, +and Llywarch hen the son of Elidir Lydanwyn, &c.—<i>Note in +<span class="smcap">Lady Charlotte Guest's</span> edition of the Mabinogion</i>, vol. i. p. 93. In +the text, for the sake of euphony to English ears, for the name of +Llywarch is substituted that of his father, Elidir.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_2_124" id="Footnote_2_124"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_124">2.—Page 275, stanza xii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Next came the Warrior Three. Of glory's charms.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Three knights of battle were in the court of Arthur; Cadwr the Earl +of Cornwall, Lancelot du Lac, and Owaine the son of Urien Rheged; +and this was their characteristic, that they would not retreat from +battle, neither for spear, nor for arrow, nor for sword; and Arthur +never had shame in battle the day he saw their faces there, &c.—<span class="smcap">Lady +C. Guest's</span> <i>Mabinog.</i>, vol. i. p. 91. In the poem, for Lancelot of the +Lake, whose fame is not yet supposed to be matured, is substituted the +famous Geraint, the hero of a former generation.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_3_125" id="Footnote_3_125"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_125">3.—Page 275, stanza xii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Dark Mona's Owaine shines with golden arms.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Owaine's birth-place and domains are variously surmised: in the text +they are ascribed to Mona (Anglesea). St. Palaye, concurrently both +with French fabliasts and Welch bards, makes this hero very fond of +the pomp and blazonry of arms, and attributes to him the introduction +of buckles to spurs, furred mantles, and the use of gloves.</p></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 453]</span></p> + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_4_126" id="Footnote_4_126"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_126">4.—Page 275, stanza xiii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>In his plain manhood Cornwall's chief is seen.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Cadwr.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_5_127" id="Footnote_5_127"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_127">5.—Page 275, stanza xv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Next the three Chiefs of Eloquence; the kings.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +There were three golden-tongued knights in the court of Arthur—Gwalchmai +(Gawaine), Drudwas, and Eliwlod.<a name="FNanchor_A_133" id="FNanchor_A_133"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_133" class="fnanchor">[D]</a>—<span class="smcap">Lady C. Guest's</span> +<i>Mabinog.</i>, note, vol. i. p. 118.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_6_128" id="Footnote_6_128"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_128">6.—Page 276, stanza xix.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>The <span class="smcap">Knights of Love</span>;" some type the name conveys.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The three ardent lovers of the island of Britain—Caswallawn, Tristan, +and Cynon (for the last, already placed amongst the counselling +knights, Caradoc is substituted).—<span class="smcap">Lady C. Guest's</span> <i>Mabinog.</i>, vol. i. +note to p. 94.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_7_129" id="Footnote_7_129"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_129">7.—Page 276, stanza xix.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Caswallawn; Trystan of the lion rock.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Trystan's birth-place, Lyonness, is supposed to have been that part of +Cornwall since destroyed by the sea. See Southey's note to <i>Morte +d'Arthur</i>, vol. ii. p. 477.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_8_130" id="Footnote_8_130"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_130">8.—Page 279, stanza xlv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>In Castel d'Asso's vale of hero-tombs.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Castel d'Asso (the Castellum Axia, in Cicero), the name now given to +the valleys near Viterbo, which formed the great burial-place of the +Etrurians. Near these valleys, and, as some suppose, on the site of +Viterbo, was Voltumna (Fanum Voltumnæ), at which the twelve +sovereigns of the twelve dynasties, and the other chiefs of the Etrurians, +met in the spring of every year. Views of the rock-temples at Norchea, +in this neighbourhood, are to be seen in <span class="smcap">Inghirami's</span> <i>Etrusc. Antiq.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_9_131" id="Footnote_9_131"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_131">9.—Page 280, stanza xlvii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Here <span class="smcap">Sethlans</span>, sovereign of life's fix'd domains.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Sethlans, the Etrurian Vulcan. He appears sometimes to assume +the attributes of Terminus, though in a higher and more ethereal sense—presiding +over the bounds of life, as Terminus over those of the land.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_10_132" id="Footnote_10_132"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_132">10.—Page 280, stanza lii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>On the Fork'd Hill), abjures his genial smile.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Tinia, the Etrurian Bacchus (son of Tina), identified symbolically +with the god of the infernal regions. In the funeral monuments he +sometimes assumes the most fearful aspect. The above description of +the Etrurian Hades, with its eight gates, is taken in each detail from +vases and funeral monuments, most of which are cited by <span class="smcap">Micali</span>.</p></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 454]</span></p> + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_11_134" id="Footnote_11_134"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_134">11.—Page 285, stanza lxxxii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Woe on the helmet-crown of Dorian kings!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +In moonless nights, every eighth year, the Spartan Ephors consulted +the heavens; if there appeared the meteor, which we call the shooting-star, +they adjudged their kings to have committed some offence against +the gods, and suspended them from their office till acquitted by the +Delphic oracle, or Olympian priests.—<span class="smcap">Plut.</span> <i>Agis</i>, 11; <span class="smcap">Muller's</span> +<i>Dorians</i>, b. iii. c. 6.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_12_135" id="Footnote_12_135"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_135">12.—Page 287, stanza c.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Etrurian Næniæ, load the lagging wind.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Næniæ, the funeral hymns borrowed by the Romans from the +Etrurians.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_13_136" id="Footnote_13_136"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_136">13.—Page 288, stanza vi.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Bright Cupra braids thy hair.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Cupra, or Talna, corresponding with Juno, the nuptial goddess.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h4>NOTES TO BOOK VI.</h4> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_1_137" id="Footnote_1_137"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_137">1.—Page 293, stanza ii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Stretch'd o'er the steel-clad hush their swordless hands.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +See Tacitus, lib. xiv. cap. 30, for the celebrated description of the +attack on the Druids, in their refuge in Mona, under Publius Suetonius.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_2_138" id="Footnote_2_138"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_138">2.—Page 296, stanza xxv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>"You know the proverb—'birds of the same feather,'</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>A proverb much enforced in penal laws.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +In Welch laws it was sufficient to condemn a person to be found +with notorious offenders.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_3_139" id="Footnote_3_139"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_139">3.—Page 299, stanza xl.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>'Twould favour white, and raise the deuce in black.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +If the celebrated controversy between Black and White, which divided +the Cymrian church in King Arthur's days, should seem to suggest a +parallel instance in our own,—the Author begs sincerely to say that he +is more inclined to grieve than to jest at a schism which threatens to +separate from so large a body of the upholders of the English church +the abilities and learning of no despicable portion of the English clergy. +There is a division more dangerous than that between theologian and +theologian—viz., a division between the Pastors and their flocks—between +the teaching of the pulpit and the sympathy of the audience. +Far from the Author be the rash presumption to hazard any opinion +as to matters of doctrine, on which—such as Regeneration by Baptism—it +cannot be expected that, for the sake of expediency or even concord, +the remarkable thinkers who have emerged from the schools of +Oxford should admit of compromise;—but he asks, with the respect +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 455]</span>due to zeal and erudition, whether it be worth while to inflame dispute, +and risk congregations—for the colour of a gown?</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_4_140" id="Footnote_4_140"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_140">4.—Page 300, stanza lii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>(If wine this be) ye come from <span class="smcap">Huerdan's</span> shore.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Huerdan, i. e. Ireland, pronounced, in the Poem, as a dissyllable.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_5_141" id="Footnote_5_141"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_141">5.—Page 306, stanza xcv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>But never yet the dog our bounty fed</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Betray'd the kindness or forgot the bread.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The whole of that part of Sir Gawaine's adventures, which includes +the incidents of the sword and the hound, is borrowed (with alterations) +from one of <span class="smcap">Le Grand's</span> <i>Fabliaux</i>.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_6_142" id="Footnote_6_142"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_142">6.—Page 307, stanza c.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Of evil fame was Nannau's antique tree,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Yet styled the "hollow oak of demon race."</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +In the domain of Nannau (which now belongs to the Vaughans) was +standing, to within a period comparatively recent, the legendary oak +called Derwen Ceubren yr Ellyll—the hollow oak, the haunt of demons.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_7_143" id="Footnote_7_143"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_143">7.—Page 307, stanza ci.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Or prison'd Mawddach clangs his triple chain.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Mawddach, with its three waterfalls.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_8_144" id="Footnote_8_144"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_144">8.—Page 308, stanza ciii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>And herds of deer as slight as Jura's roe.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The deer in the park of Nannau are singularly small.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_9_145" id="Footnote_9_145"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_145">9.—Page 312, stanza cxxvii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Thor ever nursed, or Rana ever knew.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Ran, or Rana, the malignant goddess of the sea, in Scandinavian +mythology.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h4>NOTES TO BOOK VII.</h4> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_1_146" id="Footnote_1_146"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_146">1.—Page 314, stanza iii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Or the Nymph-mother of the silver feet.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +'The silver-footed Thetis.'—<span class="smcap">Homer.</span></p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_2_147" id="Footnote_2_147"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_147">2.—Page 322, stanza lvii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>An armèd King—three lions on his shield</i>—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Richard Cœur de Lion;—poetically speaking, the mythic Arthur +was the Father of the age of adventure and knighthood—and the +legends respecting him reigned with full influence in the period +which Richard Cœur de Lion here (generally and without strict prosaic +regard to chronology) represents; from the lay of the Troubadour and +the song of the Saracen—to the final concentration or chivalric romance +in the muse of Ariosto.<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 456]</span></p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h4>NOTES TO BOOK VIII.</h4> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_1_148" id="Footnote_1_148"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_148">1.—Page 332, stanza xi.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Frank were those times of trustful Chevisaunce.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Chevisaunce.—<span class="smcap">Spenser.</span></p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_2_149" id="Footnote_2_149"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_149">2.—Page 332, stanza xiv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Roved the same pastures when the Mead-month smiled.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The <span class="smcap">Mead-month</span>, June.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_3_150" id="Footnote_3_150"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_150">3.—Page 334, stanza xxv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>And the strong seid compell'd revealing ghosts.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Magic.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_4_151" id="Footnote_4_151"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_151">4.—Page 334, stanza xxvii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Till the Last Twilight darken round the Gods.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +At Ragnarök, or the Twilight of the Gods, the Aser and the Giants +are to destroy each other, and the whole earth is to be consumed.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_5_152" id="Footnote_5_152"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_152">5.—Page 334, stanza xxviii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Stands my great Sire—the Saxon's Herman-Saul.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Herman-Saul (or Saule), often corruptly written Irminsula, Armensula, +&c., the name of the celebrated Teuton Idol, representing an +armed warrior on a column, destroyed by Charlemagne, <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 772.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_6_153" id="Footnote_6_153"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_153">6.—Page 334, stanza xxix.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Far from our dangers Astrild woos thy hand.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Astrild, the Cupid of the Northern Mythology.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_7_154" id="Footnote_7_154"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_154">7.—Page 334, stanza xxxi.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Than Beorn, the Incarnate Fenris of the main.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Fenris, the Demon Wolf, Son of Asa Lok.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_8_155" id="Footnote_8_155"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_155">8.—Page 336, stanza xliv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Dark, save when swift and sharp, and griding through.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Griding.—<span class="smcap">Milton.</span> "The <i>griding</i> sword with discontinuous +wound," &c.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_9_156" id="Footnote_9_156"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_156">9.—Page 338, stanza lv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Lonely he strays till Æthra sees again</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Her starry children smiling on the main.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Both the Pleiades and the Hyades are said to be the daughters of +Æthra, one of the Oceanides, by Atlas.</p></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 457]</span></p> + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_10_157" id="Footnote_10_157"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_157">10.—Page 338, stanza lviii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Reign storm-girt Arcas, and the Mother Star.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +<i>Ursa Major</i> and <i>Ursa Minor</i>, near the North Pole, supposed by the +Poets to be Arcas and his mother.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_11_158" id="Footnote_11_158"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_158">11.—Page 339, stanza lxiv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>And from the rapture woke!—All fiercely round, &c.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The reader will perhaps perceive, that the above passage, containing +the Vision of Ægle, is partially borrowed from the apparition of Clorinda, +in <span class="smcap">Tasso</span>.—<i>Cant.</i> xii.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_12_159" id="Footnote_12_159"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_159">12.—Page 341, stanza lxxx.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Is it the Freya, whom your scalds have sung.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Freya is the goddess of love, beauty, and Hymen; the Scandinavian +Venus.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_13_160" id="Footnote_13_160"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_160">13.—Page 343, stanza xc.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>O Dog skoinophagous—a tooth for mine!</i>—<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Id est, "rope-eating"—a compound adjective borrowed from such +Greek as Sir Gawaine might have learned at the then flourishing +college of Caerleon. The lessons of education naturally recur to us in +our troubles.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h4>NOTES TO BOOK IX.</h4> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_1_161" id="Footnote_1_161"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_161">1.—Page 346, stanza i.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Form'd of the frost-gems ages labour forth</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The mountains of hard and perfect ice are the gradual production, +perhaps, of many centuries.—<i><span class="smcap">Leslie's</span> Polar Seas and Regions.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_2_162" id="Footnote_2_162"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_162">2.—Page 346, stanza ii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Here did the venturous Ithacan explore.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Ulysses. <i>Odys.</i>, lib. xi.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_3_163" id="Footnote_3_163"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_163">3.—Page 347, stanza iii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>And, with the birth of fairy forests rife,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Blushes the world of white.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The phenomenon of the red snow on the Arctic mountains is formed +by innumerable vegetable bodies; and the olive green of the Greenland +Sea by Medusan animalcules, the number of which Mr. Scoresby illustrates +by supposing that 80,000 persons would have been employed +since the creation in counting it.—See <span class="smcap">Leslie</span>.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_4_164" id="Footnote_4_164"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_164">4.—Page 347, stanza iv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The morse emerging rears the face of man.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The Morse, or Walrus, supposed to be the original of the Merman; +from the likeness its face presents at a little distance to that of a +human being.</p></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 458]</span></p> + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_5_165" id="Footnote_5_165"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_165">5.—Page 347, stanza viii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Floats the vast ice-field with its glassy blink.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The ice-blink seen on the horizon.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_6_166" id="Footnote_6_166"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_166">6.—Page 348, stanza xiii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>While the dire pest-scourge of the frozen zone.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Though the fearful disease known by the name of the scurvy is not +peculiar to the northern latitudes; and Dr. Budd has ably disproved +(in the Library of Practical Medicine) the old theory that it originated +in cold and moisture; yet the disease was known in the north of +Europe from the remotest ages, while no mention is made of its +appearance in more genial climates before the year 1260.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_7_167" id="Footnote_7_167"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_167">7.—Page 349, stanza xxii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>And round and round the bark the narwal sweeps.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The Sea Unicorn.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_8_168" id="Footnote_8_168"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_168">8.—Page 350, stanza xxv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10"><i>front after front they rise</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>With their bright stare.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The eye of the Walrus is singularly bright.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_9_169" id="Footnote_9_169"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_169">9.—Page 351, stanza xxxvii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The ravening glaucus sudden shooting o'er.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The Larus Glaucus, the great bird of prey in the Polar regions.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_10_170" id="Footnote_10_170"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_170">10.—Page 352, stanza xl.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Blithe from the turf the Dove the blessèd leaves.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Herbs which act as the antidotes to the scurvy (the cochlearia, +&c.) are found under the snows, when all other vegetation seems to +cease.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_11_171" id="Footnote_11_171"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_171">11.—Page 354, stanza liv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The earthlier half, its own and Heaven's before.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +In allusion to the well-known Platonic fancy, that love is the yearning +of the soul for the twin soul with which it was united in a former +existence, and which it instinctively recognizes below. Schiller, in one +of his earlier poems, has enlarged on this idea with earnest feeling and +vigorous fancy.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_12_172" id="Footnote_12_172"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_172">12.—Page 357, stanza lxxiii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Ice-blocks the walls, and hollow'd ice the roof!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The houses of the Esquimaux who received Captain Lyon were thus +constructed:—the frozen snow being formed into slabs of about two +feet long and half a foot thick; the benches were made with snow, +strewed with twigs, and covered with skins; and the lamp suspended +from the roof, fed with seal or walrus oil, was the sole substitute for +the hearth, and furnished light and fire for cooking. +</p><p> +The Esquimaux were known to the settlers and pirates of Norway +by the contemptuous name of dwarfs or pigmies—(<i>Skrœllings</i>).</p></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 459]</span></p> + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_13_173" id="Footnote_13_173"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_173">13.—Page 358, stanza lxxxi.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8"><i>which certain Norway hags</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Had squeezed from heaven and bottled up in bags.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +A well-known popular superstition, not, perhaps, quite extinct at this +day, amongst the Baltic mariners.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_14_174" id="Footnote_14_174"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_174">14.—Page 360, stanza xciv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i22">"<i>I was shot</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Into a ridge of what they call a</i> floe.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The smaller kind of ice-field is called by the northern whale-fishers +"a floe,"—the name is probably of very ancient date.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_15_175" id="Footnote_15_175"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_175">15.—Page 361, stanza cii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>"The dwarfs, deliver'd, kneel, and pull their noses.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +A salutation still in vogue among certain tribes of the Esquimaux.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h4>NOTES TO BOOK X.</h4> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_1_176" id="Footnote_1_176"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_176">1.—Page 366, stanza iii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>A second Sun his lurid front uprears!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The apparition of two or more suns in the polar firmament is well +known. Mr. Ellis saw six—they are most brilliant at daybreak—and +though diminished in splendour, are still visible even after the appearance +of the real sun.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_2_177" id="Footnote_2_177"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_177">2.—Page 369, stanza xxvi.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>And tread where erst the Sire of freemen trod.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Thor's visit to the realms of Hela and Lok forms a prominent +incident in the romance of Scandinavian mythology.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_3_178" id="Footnote_3_178"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_178">3.—Page 370, stanza xxxvii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Enormous couch'd fang'd Iguanodon.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Dr. Mantell, in his "Wonders of Geology," computes the length +of the Iguanodon (formerly an inhabitant of the Wealds of Sussex) at +one hundred feet.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_4_179" id="Footnote_4_179"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_179">4.—Page 371, stanza xxxix.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Herds, that through all the thunders of the surge.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The Deinotherium—supposed to have been a colossal species of +hippopotamus.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_5_180" id="Footnote_5_180"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_180">5.—Page 371, stanza xli.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The Troll's swart people, in their inmost home.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +In Scandinavian mythology, the evil spirits are generally called +Trolls (or Trolds). The name is here applied to the malignant race +of Dwarfs, whose homes were in the earth, and who could not endure +the sun.</p></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 460]</span></p> + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_6_181" id="Footnote_6_181"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_181">6.—Page 373, stanza liii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Dreamless of thrones—and the fierce Visigoth.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Visigoth, <i>poeticè</i> for the Spanish ravagers of Mexico and Peru.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_7_182" id="Footnote_7_182"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_182">7.—Page 373, stanza liv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Calm brows that brood the doom of breathless kings!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Napoleon.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_8_183" id="Footnote_8_183"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_183">8.—Page 377, stanza lxxxvi.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>That calm grand brow the son of Ægir eyed.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Ægir, the God of the Ocean, the Scandinavian Neptune.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_9_184" id="Footnote_9_184"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_184">9.—Page 380, stanza ciii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>And bloodstain'd altars cursed the mountain sod.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The testimony to be found in classical writers as to the original +purity of the Druid worship, before it was corrupted into the idolatry +which existed in Britain at the time of the Roman conquest, is strongly +corroborated by the Welsh triads. These triads, indeed, are of various +dates, but some bear the mark of a very remote antiquity—wholly distinct +alike from the philosophy of the Romans and the mode of thought +prevalent in the earlier ages of the Christian era; in short, anterior to +all the recorded conquests over the Cymrian people. These, like +proverbs, appear the wrecks and fragments of some primæval ethics, or +philosophical religion. Nor are such remarkable alone for the purity +of the notions they inculcate relative to the Deity; they have often, +upon matters less spiritual, the delicate observation, as well as the +profound thought, of reflective wisdom. It is easy to see in them how +identified was the Bard with the Sage—that rare union which produces +the highest kind of human knowledge. Such, perhaps, are the relics of +that sublimer learning which, ages before the sacrifice of victims in +wicker idols, won for the Druids the admiration of the cautious +Aristotle, as ranking among the true enlighteners of men—such the +teachers who (we may suppose to have) instructed the mystical Pythagoras; +and furnished new themes for meditation to the musing +Brahman. Nor were the Druids of Britain inferior to those with whom +the Sages of the western and eastern world came more in contact. On +the contrary, even to the time of Cæsar, the Druids of Britain excelled +in science and repute those in Gaul; and to their schools the Neophytes +of the Continent were sent. +</p><p> +In the Stanzas that follow the description of the more primitive +Cymrians, it is assumed that the rude Druid remains <i>now</i> existent (as +at Stonehenge, &c.), are coeval only with the later and corrupted state +of a people degenerated to idol-worship, and that the Cymrians previously +possessed an architecture, of which no trace now remains, more +suited to their early civilization. If it be true that they worshipped the +Deity only in his own works, and that it was not until what had been a +symbol passed into an idol, that they deserted the mountain-top and +the forest for the temple, they would certainly have wanted the main +inducement to permanent and lofty architecture. Still it may be +allowed, at least to a poet, to suppose that men so sensible as the +primitive Saronides, would have held their schools and colleges in places +more adapted to a northern climate than their favourite oak groves.</p></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 461]</span></p> + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_10_185" id="Footnote_10_185"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_185">10.—Page 380, stanza civ.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>And wing'd the shaft of Scythian Abaris.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The arrow of Abaris (which bore him where he pleased) is supposed +by some to have been the loadstone. And Abaris himself has been, by +some ingenious speculators, identified with a Druid philosopher.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h4>NOTES TO BOOK XI.</h4> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_1_186" id="Footnote_1_186"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_186">1.—Page 386, stanza xxviii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Hung on the music, nor divined the death?</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +See Book ii. pp. 57, 58, from stanza xxvii. to stanza xxx.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_2_187" id="Footnote_2_187"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_187">2.—Page 388, stanza xxxix.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Because that soul refined man's common air!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Perhaps it is in this sense that Taliessin speaks in his mystical poem +called "Taliessin's History," still extant:— +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">"I have been an instructor<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To the whole universe.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I shall remain till the day of doom<br /></span> +<span class="i4">On the face of the earth."<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_3_188" id="Footnote_3_188"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_188">3.—Page 389, stanza xlviii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>And smote the Heathen with the Angel's sword.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The Bishops Germanus and Lupus, having baptized the Britains in +the river Alyn, led them against the Picts and Saxons, to the cry of +"Alleluia." The cry itself, uttered with all the enthusiasm of the +Christian host, struck terror into the enemy, who at once took to flight. +Most of those who escaped the sword perished in the river. This +victory, achieved at Maes-Garmon, was called "Victoria Alleluiatica."—<span class="smcap">Brit. +Eccles. Antiq.</span>, 335; <span class="smcap">Bed.</span>, lib. i. c. i. 20.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_4_189" id="Footnote_4_189"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_189">4.—Page 389, stanza xlix.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Flash'd the glad claymores, lightening line on line.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +"The claymore of the Highlanders of Scotland was no other than the +cledd mawr (cle'mawr) of the Welch."—<span class="smcap">Cymrodorion</span>, vol. ii. p. 106.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_5_190" id="Footnote_5_190"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_190">5.—Page 390, stanza lii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>No mail defends the Cymrian Child of Song.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +No Cymrian bard, according to the primitive law, was allowed the +use of weapons.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_6_191" id="Footnote_6_191"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_191">6.—Page 390, stanza lvii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>And Tudor's standard with the Saxon's head.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The old arms of the Tudors were three Saxons' heads.</p></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 462]</span></p> + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_7_192" id="Footnote_7_192"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_192">7.—Page 393, stanza lxxiii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Lo, Saxons, lo, what chiefs these Walloons lead!</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Walloons,—the name given by the Saxons, in contumely, to the +Cymrians.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_8_193" id="Footnote_8_193"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_193">8.—Page 399, stanza cxvi.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'<i>And what is death?—a name for nothingness.</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The sublime idea of the nonentity of death, of the instantaneous +transit of the soul from one phase and cycle of being to another, is +earnestly insisted upon by the early Cymrian bards, in terms which +seem borrowed from some spiritual belief anterior to that which does +in truth teach that the life of man once begun, has not only no end, +but no pause—and, in the triumphal cry of the Christian, "O grave, +where is thy victory!"—annihilates death.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h4>NOTES TO BOOK XII.</h4> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_1_194" id="Footnote_1_194"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_194">1.—Page 417, stanza xl.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>"The watch-pass 'Vingólf' wins thee thro' the van.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Vingolf. Literally, "The Abode of Friends;" the name for the +place in which the heavenly goddesses assemble.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_2_195" id="Footnote_2_195"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_195">2.—Page 419, stanza liv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>What rites appease thee, Father of the Slain?</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Father of the Slain, Valfader.—Odin.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_3_196" id="Footnote_3_196"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_196">3.—Page 420, stanza lxiv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Her sisters tremble at the Urdar spring.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +"Her sisters tremble," &c.,—that is, the other two Fates (the Present +and the Past) tremble at the Well of Life.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_4_197" id="Footnote_4_197"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_197">4.—Page 424, stanza lxxxix.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>To all the valiant Gladsheim's Halls unclose.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Gladsheim, Heaven: Walhalla ("the Hall of the Chosen") did not +exclude brave foes who fell in battle.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_5_198" id="Footnote_5_198"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_198">5.—Page 425, stanza xcvi.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The Læca shines beside the bautasten.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +The <span class="smcap">Scin Læca</span>, or shining corpse, that was seen before the bautasten, +or burial-stone of a dead hero, was supposed to possess prophetic +powers, and to guard the treasures of the grave.</p></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 463]</span></p> + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_6_199" id="Footnote_6_199"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_199">6.—Page 429, stanza cxxiii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Thy post with Odin—mine with Managarm!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Managarm, the Monster Wolf (symbolically, <span class="smcap">war</span>). "He will be +filled with the blood of men who draw near their end," &c. (<span class="smcap">Prose +Edda</span>).</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_7_200" id="Footnote_7_200"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_200">7.—Page 430, stanza cxxxii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>And the last Fire-God and the Flaming Sword!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +"And the last Fire-God and the Flaming Sword," <i>i.e.</i>, Surtur the +genius, who dwells in the region of fire (Muspelheim), whose flaming +sword shall vanquish the gods themselves in the last day. (<span class="smcap">Prose +Edda</span>).</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_8_201" id="Footnote_8_201"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_201">8.—Page 431, stanza cxxxv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>And ghastly legends teem with tales of <span class="smcap">Faul</span>!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Faul is indeed the name of one of the malignant Powers peculiarly +dreaded by the Saxons.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_9_202" id="Footnote_9_202"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_202">9.—Page 431, stanza cxxxvi.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>From the paled ranks, that evil Bode dismay'd.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +"Bode," Saxon word for Messenger.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_10_203" id="Footnote_10_203"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_203">10.—Page 433, stanza clv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>The wings of Muspell to consume the world.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +Muspell, Fire; the final destroyer.</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_11_204" id="Footnote_11_204"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_204">11.—Page 439, stanza cxcii.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>All save the Cymrian's Ararat—Wild Wales!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">"Their Lord they shall praise,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And their language they shall preserve;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Their land they shall lose,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Except Wild Wales!"<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="rfrnce"> +<span class="smcap">Prophecy of Taliessin.</span> +</p></div> + + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_12_205" id="Footnote_12_205"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_205">12.—Page 439, stanza cxciv.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Thy dauntless blood through Gwynedd's chiefs shall roll.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +This prediction refers to the marriage of the daughter of Griffith ap +Llewellyn (Prince of Gwynedd, or North Wales, whose name and fate +are not unfamiliar to those who have read the romance of "Harold, the +last of the Saxon Kings") with Fleance. From that marriage descended +the Stuarts, and indeed the reigning family of Great Britain.</p></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 464]</span></p> + +<div class="endnote"><p class="center"><a name="Footnote_13_206" id="Footnote_13_206"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_206">13.—Page 440, stanza cxcix.</a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>From Cymri's Dragon England's power shall date,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And peace be born to Cymri from the Dove.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +According to Welch genealogists, Arthur left no son: and I must +therefore invite the believer in Merlin's prophecy to suppose that it +was by a daughter that Arthur's line was continued, and the royalty +of Britain restored to the Cymrian kings, through the House of Tudor; +from the accession of which House may indeed be dated both the final +and cordial amalgamation of the Welch with the English, and the rise +of that power over the destinies of the civilized world, which England +has since established. The reader will pardon me, by the way, if I +have somewhat perplexed him, now and then, by a similarity between +the names of "Genevieve" and "Genevra." Both are used by the +writers of the French Fabliaux as synonymous with Guenever; and the +more shrewd will perhaps perceive that the reason why the name of +Lancelot's mistress has been made almost identical with that of +Arthur's, is to vindicate the fidelity of the Cymrian Queen Guenever +from that scandal which the levity of French romance has most +improperly cast upon it, in connection with Lancelot. It is to be +presumed that those ancient slanderers were misled by the confusion +of names, and that it was his own Genevra, and not Arthur's Genevieve, +who received Lancelot's homage.—But indeed my Lancelot is altogether +a different personage from the Lancelot represented in the Fabliaux as +Arthur's nephew.</p></div> + + +<div class="footnotes"> +<p class="center"><b>FOOTNOTES</b></p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_76" id="Footnote_A_76"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_76"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> I cannot quote the Mabinogion without expressing a grateful sense of the +obligations Lady Charlotte Guest has conferred upon all lovers of our early +literature, in her invaluable edition and translation of that interesting collection +of British romances.</p></div> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_103" id="Footnote_A_103"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_103"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Dryden, with an accurate delicacy of erudition for which one might +scarcely give him credit, does not in his translation follow Virgil's quantity, +<i>Porsënna</i>, but makes the word short, <i>Porsëna</i>.</p></div> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_106" id="Footnote_A_106"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_106"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> It may perhaps occur to the reader that Latin, with which Arthur (in an +age so shortly subsequent to the Roman occupation of Britain) could scarcely +fail to be well acquainted, might have furnished a better mode of communication +between himself and the Augur. But the Latin language would have +been very imperfectly settled at the time of the supposed Etrurian emigration; +would have had small connection with the literature, sacred or profane, of +the Etrurians; and would long have been despised as a rude medley of various +tongues and dialects, by the proud and polished race which the Romans +subjected.</p></div> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_133" id="Footnote_A_133"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_133"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> The <i>w</i> is to be pronounced as <i>oo</i>.</p></div> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 465]</span></p> +<h1><a name="CORN-FLOWERS" id="CORN-FLOWERS"></a>CORN-FLOWERS.</h1> +<h3>A COLLECTION OF POEMS.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">"The Corn-flower opens as the sheaves are rife;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Song is the twin of golden Contemplation,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The Harvest-flower of life."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<h2>BOOK I.</h2> + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 466]</span></p> +<h3>NOTE.</h3> + +<p>Most of the Poems in this First Book have been recently composed, +and hitherto unpublished; and those which have appeared before, have +been, some materially altered, all carefully revised.</p> + +<p>In the Second Book some Poems were written in early life, and have +been but little altered; others—chiefly of a more thoughtful character—are +of later date, and are now printed for the first time.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 467]</span></p> +<h1>CORN-FLOWERS.</h1> + +<h1>BOOK I.</h1> + + +<h2><a name="THE_FIRST_VIOLETS" id="THE_FIRST_VIOLETS"></a>THE FIRST VIOLETS.</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who that has loved knows not the tender tale<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which flowers reveal, when lips are coy to tell?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose youth has paused not, dreaming, in the vale<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Where the rath violets dwell?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo, where they shrink along the lonely brake,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Under the leafless melancholy tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not yet the cuckoo sings, nor glides the snake,<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Nor wild thyme lures the bee;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet at their sight and scent entranced and thrall'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All June seems golden in the April skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How sweet the days we yearn for,—<i>till fulfill'd</i>:<br /></span> +<span class="i5">O distant Paradise,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dear Land to which Desire for ever flees;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Time doth no present to our grasp allow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say in the fix'd Eternal shall we seize<br /></span> +<span class="i5">At last the fleeting Now?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dream not of days to come—of that Unknown<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whither Hope wanders—maze without a clue;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give their true witchery to the flowers;—thine own<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Youth in their youth renew.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Avarice, remember when the cowslip's gold<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lured and yet lost its glitter in thy grasp.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do thy hoards glad thee more than those of old?<br /></span> +<span class="i5"><i>Those</i> wither'd in thy clasp,<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 468]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From <i>these</i> thy clasp falls palsied.—It was then<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That thou wert rich—thy coffers are a lie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas, poor fool, Joy is the wealth of men,<br /></span> +<span class="i5">And Care their penury.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come, foil'd Ambition, what hast thou desired?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Empire and power?—O, wanderer, tempest-tost!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These once were thine, when life's gay spring inspired<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Thy soul with glories lost.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let the flowers charm thee back to that rich time<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When golden Dreamland lay within thy chart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Love bestow'd a realm indeed sublime—<br /></span> +<span class="i5">The boundless human heart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hark, hark again, the tread of bashful feet!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hark the boughs rustling round the trysting-place!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let air again with one dear breath be sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Earth fair with one dear face.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Brief-lived first flowers—first love! The hours steal on<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To prank the world in summer's pomp of hue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But what can flaunt beneath a fiercer sun<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Worth what we lose in you?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oft by a flower, a leaf, in some loved book<br /></span> +<span class="i1">We mark the lines that charm us most;—Retrace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy life;—recall its loveliest passage;—Look,<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Dead violets keep the place!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_IMAGE_ON_THE_TIDE" id="THE_IMAGE_ON_THE_TIDE"></a>THE IMAGE ON THE TIDE.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not a sound is heard<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But my heart by thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breathe not a word,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lay thy hand in mine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How trembling, yet still,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On the lake's clear tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sleep the distant hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the bank beside.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The near and the far,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Intermingled flow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The herb and the star<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Imaged both below.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 469]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So deep and so clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through the shadowy light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The far and the near<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In my soul unite;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The future and past,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Like the bank and hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the surface glass'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Though they tremble still;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Disturb not the dream<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of this double whole;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heav'n in the stream<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On my soul thy soul.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sense cannot count<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(As the waters glass<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The forest and mount<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the clouds that pass)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The shadows and gleams<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In that stilly deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the tranquil dreams<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of a hermit's sleep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>One</i> shadow alone<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On my soul doth fall,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet in the one<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It reflects on All.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IS_IT_ALL_VANITY" id="IS_IT_ALL_VANITY"></a>IS IT ALL VANITY?</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Doubting of life, my spirit paused perplext<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Let fall its fardell of laborious care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the sharp cry of my great trouble vext<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Unsympathizing air.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out on this choice of unrewarded toil,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">This upward path into the realm of snow!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh for one glimpse of the old happy soil<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Fragrant with flowers below!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For what false gold, like alchemists, we yearn,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wasting the wealth we never can recall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joy and life's lavish prime;—and our return?<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Ashes, cold ashes, all!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 470]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Could youth but dream what narrow burial-urns<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hopes that went forth to conquer worlds should hold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How in a tomb the lamp Experience burns<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Amidst the dust of old!—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Look back, how all the beautiful Ideal,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sporting in doubtful moonlight, one by one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fade from the rising of the hard-eyed Real,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Like Fairies from the sun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Love render'd saintlike by its pure devotion;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Knowledge exulting lone by shoreless seas<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Feelings tremulous to each emotion,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">As May leaves to the breeze.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, oh, that grand Ambition, poet-nurst,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When boyhood's heart swells up to the Sublime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on the gaze the towers of Glory first<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Flash from the peaks of Time!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Are they then wiser who but nurse the growth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of joys in life's most common element,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Creeping from hour to hour in that calm sloth<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Which Egoists call "Content?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who freight for storms no hopeful argosy,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who watch no beacon wane on hilltops grey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who bound their all, where from the human eye<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The horizon fades away?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alas for Labour, if indeed more wise<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To drink life's tide unwitting where it flows;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Renounce the arduous palm, and only prize<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The Cnidian vine and rose!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out from the Porch the Stoic cries "For shame!"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What hast thou left us, Stoic, in thy school?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"That pain or pleasure is but in the name?"<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Go, prick thy finger, fool!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Never grave Pallas, never Muse severe<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Charm'd this hard life like the free, zoneless Grace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pleasure is sweet, in spite of every sneer<br /></span> +<span class="i8">On Zeno's wrinkled face.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What gain'd and left ye to this age of ours<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ye early priesthoods of the Isis, Truth,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When light first glimmer'd from the Cuthite's towers;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">When Thebes was in her youth?<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 471]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When to the weird Chaldæan spoke the seer,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When Hades open'd at Heraclean spells,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Fate made Nature her interpreter<br /></span> +<span class="i8">In leaves and murmuring wells?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the keen Greek chased flying Science on,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Upward and up the infinite abyss?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like perish'd stars your arts themselves have gone<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Noiseless to nothingness!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And what is knowledge but the Wizard's ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Kindling a flame to circumscribe a ground?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The belt of light that lures the spirit's wing<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Hems the invoker round.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ponder and ask again "what boots our toil?"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Can we the Garden's wanton child gainsay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When from kind lips he culls their rosy spoil<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And lives life's holiday?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Life answers "No—if ended here be life,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Seize what the sense can give—it is thine all;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Disarm thee, Virtue, barren is thy strife;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Knowledge, thy torch let fall.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Seek thy lost Psyche, yearning Love, no more!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Love is but lust, if soul be only breath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who would put forth one billow from the shore<br /></span> +<span class="i8">If the great sea be—Death?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But if the soul, that slow artificer<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For ends its instinct rears <i>from</i> life hath striven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feeling beneath its patient webwork stir<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Wings only freed in Heaven,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Then</i> and but then to toil is to be wise;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Solved is the riddle of the grand desire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which ever, ever, for the Distant sighs,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And must perforce aspire.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Rise, then, my soul, take comfort from thy sorrow;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou feel'st thy treasure when thou feel'st thy load;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life without thought, the day without the morrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">God on the brute bestow'd;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Longings obscure as for a native clime,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flight from what is to live in what may be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God gave the Soul.—Thy discontent with Time<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Proves thine eternity.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 472]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_TRUE_JOY-GIVER" id="THE_TRUE_JOY-GIVER"></a>THE TRUE JOY-GIVER.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh Œvoë, <i>liber Pater</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Oh, the vintage feast divine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the God was in the bosom<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And his rapture in the wine;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the Faun laugh'd out at morning;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When the Mænad hymn'd the night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the Earth itself was drunken<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With the worship of delight;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh Œvoë, <i>liber Pater</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose orgies are upon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hilltops of Parnassus,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The banks of Helicon;—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How often have I hail'd thee!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">How often have I been<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bearer of the thyrsus,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When its wither'd leaves were green.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then the boughs were purple gleaming<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With the dewdrop and the star;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And chanting came the wood-nymph,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And flashing came the car.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Long faded are the garlands<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the thyrsus that I bore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the wood-nymph chanted "Follow"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the vintage-feast of yore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My vineyards are the richest<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Falernian slopes bestow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has the vineherd lost his cunning?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Has the summer lost its glow?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, never on Falernium<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Care-Dispeller trod,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its vine-leaves wreathe no thyrsus,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Its fruits allure no god.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 473]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For ever young, Lyæus;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For ever young his priest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Boy-god of the Morning,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The conqueror of the East,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His wine is Nature's life-blood;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His vineyards bloom upon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hilltops of Parnassus,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The banks of Helicon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the hilltops of Parnassus<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Are free to every age;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have trod them with the Poet,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I have mapp'd them with the Sage;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And I'll take my pert disciple<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To see, with humble eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How the Gladness-bringer honours<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The worship of the wise.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo, the arching of the vine-leaves;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lo, the sparkle of the fount;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hark, the carol of the Mænads;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lo, the car is on the Mount!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ho, room, ye thyrsus-bearers,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Your playmate I have been!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Go, madman," laughs Lyæus,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Thy thyrsus then was green."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And adown the gleaming alleys<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The gladness-givers glide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the wood-nymph murmurs "Follow,"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To the young man by my side.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BELIEF_THE_UNKNOWN_LANGUAGE" id="BELIEF_THE_UNKNOWN_LANGUAGE"></a>BELIEF; THE UNKNOWN LANGUAGE.</h2> + + +<h4>AN IDYLL.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By summer-reeds a music murmur'd low,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And straight the Shepherd-age came back to me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When idylls breathed where Himera's waters flow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or on the Hœmus hill, or Rhodopè;<a name="FNanchor_A_207" id="FNanchor_A_207"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_207" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As when the swans, by Moschus heard at noon,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mourn'd their lost Bion on the Thracian streams;<a name="FNanchor_B_208" id="FNanchor_B_208"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_208" class="fnanchor">[B]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or when Simæthea murmur'd to the moon<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of Myndian Delphis,<a name="FNanchor_C_209" id="FNanchor_C_209"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_209" class="fnanchor">[C]</a>—old Sicilian themes.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 474]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then softly turning, on the margent-slope<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which back as clear translucent waters gave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold, a Shape as beautiful as Hope,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And calm as Grief, bent, singing o'er the wave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To the sweet lips, sweet music seem'd a thing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Natural as perfume to the violet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All else was silent; not a zephyr's wing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stirr'd from the magic of the charmer's net.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What was the sense beneath the silver tone?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What the fine chain that link'd the floating measure?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not mine, to say,—the language was unknown,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And sense was lost in undistinguish'd pleasure.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pleasure, dim-shadow'd with a gentle pain<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As twilight Hesper with a twilight shroud;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or like the balm of a delicious rain<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Press'd from the fleeces of a summer cloud.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the song ceased, I knelt before the singer<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And raised my looks to soft and childlike eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sighing? "What fountain, O thou nectar-bringer<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Feeds thy full urn with golden melodies?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Interpret sounds, O Hebé of the soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Oft heard, methinks, in Ida's starry grove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When to thy feet the charmèd eagle stole,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the dark thunder left the brows of Jove!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Smiling, the Beautiful replied to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And still the language flow'd in words unknown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only in those pure eyes my sense could see<br /></span> +<span class="i1">How calm the soul that so perplex'd my own.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And while she spoke, symphonious murmurs rose;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dryads from trees, Nymphs murmur'd from the rills;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Murmur'd Mænalian Pan from dim repose<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the lush coverts of Pelasgic hills;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Murmur'd the voice of Chloris in the flower;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bent, murmuring from his car, Hyperion;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each thing regain'd the old Presiding Power,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And spoke,—and still the language was unknown.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dull listener, placed amidst the harmonious Whole,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hear'st thou no voice to sense divinely dark?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sweetest sounds that wander to the soul<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Are in the Unknown Language.—Pause, and hark!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 475]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_PILGRIM_OF_THE_DESERT" id="THE_PILGRIM_OF_THE_DESERT"></a>THE PILGRIM OF THE DESERT.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wearily flaggeth my Soul in the Desert;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Wearily, wearily.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sand, ever sand, not a gleam of the fountain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sun, ever sun, not a shade from the mountain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wave after wave flows the sea of the Desert,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Drearily, drearily.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Life dwelt with life in my far native valleys,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Nightly and daily;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Labour had brothers to aid and beguile;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A tear for my tear, and a smile for my smile;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the sweet human voices rang out; and the valleys<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Echoed them gaily.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Under the almond-tree, once in the spring-time,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Careless reclining;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sigh of my Leila was hush'd on my breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the note of the last bird had died in its nest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm look'd the stars on the buds of the spring-time,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Calm—but how shining!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Below on the herbage there darken'd a shadow;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Stirr'd the boughs o'er me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dropp'd from the almond-tree, sighing, the blossom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trembling the maiden sprang up from my bosom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then the step of a stranger came mute through the shadow,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Pausing before me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He stood grey with age in the robe of a Dervise,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">As a king awe-compelling;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the cold of his eye like the diamond was bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if years from the hardness had fashion'd the light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"A draught from thy spring for the way-weary Dervise,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And rest in thy dwelling."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And my herds gave the milk, and my tent gave the shelter;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And the stranger spell-bound me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With his tales, all the night, of the far world of wonder,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the ocean of Oman with pearls gleaming under;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I thought, "O, how mean are the tents' simple shelter<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And the valleys around me!"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 476]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I seized as I listen'd, in fancy, the treasures<br /></span> +<span class="i8">By Afrites conceal'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scared the serpents that watch in the ruins afar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er the hoards of the Persian in lost Chil-Menar;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas! ill that night happy youth had more treasures<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Than Ormus can yield.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Morn came, and I went with my guest through the gorges<br /></span> +<span class="i8">In the rock hollow'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The flocks bleated low as I pass'd them ungrieving,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The almond-buds strew'd the sweet earth I was leaving;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slowly went Age through the gloom of the gorges,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Lightly Youth follow'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We won through the Pass—the Unknown lay before me,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Sun-lighted and wide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then I turn'd to my guest, but how languid his tread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the awe I had felt in his presence was fled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I cried, "Can thy age in the journey before me<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Still keep by my side?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hope and Wisdom soon part; be it so," said the Dervise,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">"My mission is done."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As he spoke, came the gleam of the crescent and spear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chimed the bells of the camel more sweet and more near;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Go, and march with the Caravan, youth," sigh'd the Dervise,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">"Fare thee well!"—he was gone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What profits to speak of the wastes I have traversed<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Since that early time?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One by one the procession, replacing the guide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have dropp'd on the sands, or have stray'd from my side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I hear never more in the solitudes traversed<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The camel-bell's chime.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How oft I have yearn'd for the old happy valley,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">But the sands have no track;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He who scorn'd what was near must advance to the far,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who forsaketh the landmark must march by the star,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the steps that once part from the peace of the valley<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Can never come back.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So on, ever on, spreads the path of the Desert,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Wearily, wearily;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sand, ever sand—not a gleam of the fountain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sun, ever sun—not a shade from the mountain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As a sea on a sea, flows the width of the Desert,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Drearily, drearily.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 477]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How narrow content, and how infinite knowledge!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Lost vale, and lost maiden!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enclosed in the garden the mortal was blest:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A world with its wonders lay round him unguest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That world was his own when he tasted of knowledge—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Was it worth Aden?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_KING_AND_THE_WRAITH" id="THE_KING_AND_THE_WRAITH"></a>THE KING AND THE WRAITH.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">king.</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who art thou, who art thou, indistinct as the spray<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rising up from a torrent in vapour and cloud?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ghastly Phantom, obscuring the splendour of day<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And enveloped in awe, as a corpse with a shroud?<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">wraith.</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">King, my form is thy shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And my life is thy breath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, thy likeness display'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the mirror of Death!<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">king.</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My veins are as ice! 'Tis my voice that I hear!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Tis my form coming forth from the cloud that I see!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My voice?—can its sound be so dread to my ear?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My form?—can myself be so loathly to me?<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">wraith.</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Never Man comes in sight<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of himself till the last;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the flicker of light<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When the fuel is past!<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">king.</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nay, avaunt, lying Spectre, my fears are dispell'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For the likeness that fool'd me is fading away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I see, where the shape of a king was beheld,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But the coil of an earthworm that creeps into clay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">wraith.</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As thy shade I began;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As thyself I depart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thy last looks, O Man,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">See the worm that thou art!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 478]</span></p> +<h2><a name="LOVE_AND_DEATH" id="LOVE_AND_DEATH"></a>LOVE AND DEATH.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Strong as the eagle,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O mild as the dove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How like and how unlike<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O Death and O Love!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Knitting earth to the heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The near to the far,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the step in the dust,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the eye on the star.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ever changing your symbols<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of light or of gloom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now the rue on the altar,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The rose on the tomb.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From Love, if the infant<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Receiveth his breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The love that gave life<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yields a subject to Death.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When Death smites the aged,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Escaping above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flies the soul re-deliver'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By Death unto Love.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And therefore in wailing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">We enter on life;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And therefore in smiling<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Depart from its strife.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus Love is best known<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By the tears it has shed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Death's surest sign<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is the smile of the dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The purer the spirit,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The clearer its view,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The more it confoundeth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The shapes of the two;<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 479]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For, if thou lov'st truly,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou canst not dissever<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The grave from the altar,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Now from the Ever;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And if, nobly hoping,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou gazest above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Death thou beholdest<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The aspect of <span class="smcap">Love</span>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_POET_TO_THE_DEAD" id="THE_POET_TO_THE_DEAD"></a>THE POET TO THE DEAD.</h2> + + +<h4><small>PART I.</small><br /><br /> + +RETROSPECTION FROM THE HALTING-PLACE.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let me pause, for I am weary,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Weary of the trodden ways;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the landscape spreads more dreary<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where it stretches from my gaze.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Many a prize I deem'd a blessing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When I started for the goal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Midway in the course possessing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Adds a burthen to the soul.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By the thorn that scantly shadeth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the slopèd sun reclin'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let me look, before it fadeth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On the eastern hill behind;—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On the hill that life ascended,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">While the dewy morn was young;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the mist with light contended<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the early skylark sung.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then, as when at first united,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rose together Love and Day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nature with her sun was lighted,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And my soul with Viola!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O my young earth's lost Immortal!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Naiad vanish'd from the streams!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eve, torn from me at the portal<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of my Paradise of Dreams!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On thy name, with lips that quiver,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With a voice that chokes, I call.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well! the cave may hide the river,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But the ocean merges all.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 480]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet, if but in self-deceiving,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Can no magic charm thy shade?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come unto my human grieving,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Come, but as the human maid!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By the fount where love was plighted<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where the lone wave glass'd the skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the hands that once united;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By the welcome of the eyes;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By the silence sweetly broken<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When the full heart murmur'd low,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with sighs the words were spoken<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ere the later tears did flow;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By the blush and soft confession;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By the wanderings side by side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the love-denied possession;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the heavenlier, so denied;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By the faith yet undiverted;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By the worship sacred yet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the soul so long deserted,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Come, as when of old we met;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Blooming as my youth beheld thee<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the trysting-place of yore,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hark a footfall! I have spell'd thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lo, thy living smile once more!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><small>PART II.</small><br /><br /> + +THE MEETING-PLACE OF OLD.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Glides the brooklet through the rushes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Now with dipping boughs at play,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now with quicker music-gushes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where the pebbles chafe the way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lonely from the lonely meadows<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Slopes the undulating hill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the slowness of its shadows<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But at sunset gains the rill:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not a sign of man's existence,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not a glimpse of man's abode,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet the church-spire in the distance<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Links the solitude with God.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 481]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All so quiet, all so glowing,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the golden hush of noon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nature's still heart overflowing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the breathless lips of June.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Song itself the bird forsaketh,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Save from wooded deeps remote,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mellowly and singly breaketh,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mellowly, the cuckoo's note.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Tis the scene where youth beheld thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Tis the trysting-place of yore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes, my mighty grief hath spell'd thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Blooming—living—mine once more!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><small>PART III.</small><br /><br /> + +LOVE UNTO DEATH.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hand in hand we stood confiding,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Boy and maiden, hand in hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the path, in twain dividing,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Reach'd the Undiscover'd Land.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, the Hebé then beside me,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Oh, the embodied Dream of Youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With an angel's soul to guide me,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And a woman's heart to soothe!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Like the Morning in the gladness<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the smile that lit the skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Liker Twilight in the sadness<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lurking deep in starry eyes!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gaudier flowerets had effaced thee<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the formal garden set;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nature in the shade had placed thee<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With thy kindred violet;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As the violet to completeness<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Coming evèn ere the day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All thy life a silent sweetness<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Waning with a warmer ray.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So, upon the verge of sorrow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stood we, blindly, hand in hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whispering of a happy morrow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In that undiscover'd land.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 482]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou, O meek one, fame foretelling,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Grown ambitious but for me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While my heart, if proudly swelling,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Beat—ah, not for Fame, but thee!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In that summer-noon we parted,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Life redundant over all.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once again—O broken-hearted—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When the autumn leaves did fall,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Meeting—life from life to sever!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Parting,—as depart the dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the dark "Farewell for ever,"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fades from marble lips, unsaid;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As upon a bark that slowly<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lessens lone adown the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Looks abandon'd Melancholy—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Did thy still eyes follow me!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wilful in thy self devotion,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Patient on the desert shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gazing, gazing, till from ocean<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Waned thy last hope evermore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gentle victim, they might bind thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But to fetter was to slay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As a statue they enshrined thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">At a sepulchre to pray;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bade the bloodless lips not falter;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bade the cold despair be brave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes, the next morn at the altar!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But the next moon in the grave!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Little dream'd they when they bore thee<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To the nuptial funeral shrine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That to <span class="smcap">me</span> they did restore thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And release thy soul to mine!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Well thy noble heart might smother<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nature's agonizing cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What can perjure to another<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Faith—if firm eno' to die!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet can ev'n the grave regain thee?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gain as human love would see?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Darling—Pardon, I profane thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Angel, bend and comfort me!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 483]</span></p> + +<h4><small>PART IV.</small><br /><br /> + +LOVE AFTER DEATH.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cold the loiterer who refuseth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">At the well of life to drink,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the wave a sparkle loseth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the silver cord a link.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the flagging of the forces<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the journey of the soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If the first draught waste the sources,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If the first touch break the bowl!—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On the surface bright with pleasure<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still thy distant shade was cast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! the heart was where the treasure,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the Present with the Past.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If from Fame, the all-deceiver,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Toil contending garlands sought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft our force if but our fever,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And our swiftness flight from Thought.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hollow Pleasure, vain Ambition,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Give me back the impulse free—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hope that seem'd its own fruition,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Life contented but to be,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the earth with Heaven was haunted<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the shepherd age of gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the Venus rose enchanted<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the sunny seas of old.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cease, not mine the ignoble moral<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of an unresisted grief;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can the lightning sear the laurel,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or the winter fade its leaf?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Flowerless, fruitless, to the dying,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Green as when the sap began,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bolt and winter both defying,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So be manhood unto man.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Once I wander'd forth dejected<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the later times of gloom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the icy moon reflected<br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>One</i> still shadow o'er thy tomb.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 484]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There, in desolation kneeling,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Snows around me, stars above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came that second world of feeling,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Came that second birth of Love,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When regret grows aspiration,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When o'er chaos moves the breath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a new-born dim creation<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rising, wid'ning, dawns from death.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then methought my soul was lifted<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the anguish and the strife;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a finer vision gifted<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For the Spirituals of Life;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For the links that, while they thrall us,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Upward mount in just degree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knitting even, if they gall us,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Life to Immortality;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For the subtler glories blending<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With the common air we know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ansel hosts to heaven ascending<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Up the ladder based below.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Straight each harsher iron duty<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Did the sudden light illume;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, what streams of solemn beauty<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Take their sources in the tomb!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><small>PART V.</small><br /><br /> + +THE PANTHEISM OF LOVE PASSING INTO THE IDEAL.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then I rose, at dawn departing,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wan the dead earth, wan the snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wan the frost-beam dimly darting<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where the corn-seed lurk'd below;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From that night, as streams dividing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">At the fountain till the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wildly chafing, gently gliding,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Life has twofold lives for me;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One by mart and forum passing,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vex'd reflection of the crowd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One the hush of forests glassing,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or the changes of the cloud.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 485]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By the calmer stream, for ever<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dwell the ghosts that haunt the heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the phantoms and the river<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Make the Poet-World of Art.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There in all that Fancy gildeth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still thy vanish'd smile I see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And each airy hall it buildeth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is a votive shrine to thee!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Do men praise the labour?—gladden'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That the homage may endure;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do they scorn it?—only sadden'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That thine altar is so poor.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If the Beautiful be clearer<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As the seeker's days decline,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should the Ideal not be nearer<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As my soul approaches thine?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus the single light bereft me<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fused through all creation flows;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gazing where a sun had left me,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lo, the myriad stars arose!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4><small>PART VI.</small><br /><br /> + +THE MEMORY OF LOVE ASSOCIATES ITS CONSOLATIONS WITH ITS HOPES.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now the eastern hill-top fadeth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the arid wastes forlorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the only tree that shadeth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Has the scant leaves of the thorn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not a home to smile before me,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not a voice to cheer is heard;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hush! the thorn-leaves tremble o'er me,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hark, the carol of a bird!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Unto air what charm is given?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Angel, as a link to thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Midway between earth and heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hangs the delicate melody!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How it teacheth while it chideth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is the pathway so forlorn?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mercy over man presideth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And—the bird sings from the thorn.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 486]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Floating on, the music leads me,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As the pausing-place I leave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the gentle wing precedes me<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through the lullèd airs of eve.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stay, O last of all the number,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bathing happy plumes in light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the deafness of the slumber,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till the blindness of the night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Only for the vault to leave thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Only with my life to lose;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let my closing eyes perceive thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fold thy wings amid the yews.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="MIND_AND_SOUL" id="MIND_AND_SOUL"></a>MIND AND SOUL.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hark! the awe-whisperd'd prayer, "God spare my mind!"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dust unto dust, the mortal to the clod;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the high place, the altar that has shrined<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Thine image,—spare, O God!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thought, the grand link from human life to Thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The humble reed that by the Shadowy River<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Responds in music to the melody<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Of spheres that hymn for ever,—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The order of the mystic world within,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The airy girth of all things near and far;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sense, though of sorrow,—memory, though of sin,—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Gleams through the dungeon bar,—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Vouchsafe me to the last!—Though none may mark<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The solemn pang, nor soothe the parting breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still let me seek for God amid the dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And face, unblinded, Death!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whence is this fine distinction twixt the twain<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rays of the Maker in the lamp of clay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spirit and Mind?—strike the material brain,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And soul seems hurl'd away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Touch but a nerve, and Brutus is a slave;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A nerve, and Plato drivels! Was it mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or soul, that taught the wise one in the cave,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The freeman in the wind?<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 487]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If mind—O Soul! what is thy task on earth?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If soul! O wherefore can a touch destroy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or lock in Lethé's Acherontian dearth,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The Immortal's grief and joy?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hark, how a child can babble of the cells<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wherein, beneath the perishable brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fancy invents, and Memory chronicles,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And Reason asks—as now:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mapp'd are the known dominions of the thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But who shall find the palace of the soul?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along what channels shall the source be sought,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The well-spring of the whole?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Look round, vain questioner,—all space survey,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where'er thou lookest, lo, how clear is Mind!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The laws that part the darkness from the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And the sweet Pleïads bind,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The thought, the will, the art, the elaborate power<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the Great Cause from whence the All began,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gaze on the star, or bend above the flower,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Still speak of Mind to man.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the arch soul of soul—from which the law<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is but the shadow, who on earth can see?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What guess cleaves upward through the deeps of awe,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Unspeakable, to thee?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As in Creation lives the Father Soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So lives the soul He breathed amidst the clay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round it the thoughts on starry axles roll,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Life flows and ebbs away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If chaos smote the universe again,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And new Chaldeans shudder'd to explore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amidst the maddening elements in vain<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The harmonious Mind of yore,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Would not God live the same?—the Unseen Spirit,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whether that life or wills or wrecks Creation?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So lives, distinct, the god-spark we inherit,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">When Mind is desolation.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 488]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_GUARDIAN_ANGEL" id="THE_GUARDIAN_ANGEL"></a>THE GUARDIAN ANGEL.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">From Heaven what fancy stole<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dream of some good spirit, aye at hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The seraph whispering to the exile soul<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Tales of its native land?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Who to the cradle gave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The unseen watcher by the mother's side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Born with the birth, companion to the grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The holy angel-guide?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Is it a fable?—"No,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hear <span class="smcap">Love</span> answer from the sunlit air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Still where <i>my</i> presence gilds the darkness—know<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Life's angel-guide is there?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Is it a fable?—Hark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Faith</span> hymns from deeps beyond the palest star,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"<i>I</i> am the pilot to thy wandering bark,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Thy guide to shores afar."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Is it a fable?—sweet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From wave, from air, from every forest tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The murmur spoke, "Each thing thine eyes can greet<br /></span> +<span class="i6">An angel-guide can be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">"From myriads take thy choice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In all that lives a guide to God is given;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ever thou hear'st some angel guardian's voice<br /></span> +<span class="i6">When Nature speaks of Heaven!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 489]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_LOVE_OF_MATURER_YEARS" id="THE_LOVE_OF_MATURER_YEARS"></a>THE LOVE OF MATURER YEARS.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nay, soother, do not dream thine art<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Can altar Nature's stern decree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or give me back the younger heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose tablets had been clear to thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why seek, fair child, to pierce the dark<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That wraps the giant wrecks of old?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou wert not with me in the ark,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When o'er my life the deluge roll'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To thee, reclining by the verge,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The careless waves in music flow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To me the ripple sighs the dirge<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of my lost native world below.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her tranquil arch as Iris builds<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Above the Anio's torrent roar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy life is in the life it gilds,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Born of the wave it trembles o'er.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For thee a glory leaves the skies<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If from thy side a step depart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy sunlight beams from human eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy world is in one human heart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And in the woman's simple creed<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Since first the helpmate's task began,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou ask'st what more than love should need<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The stern insatiate soul of Man.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No more, while youth with vernal gale<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Breathes o'er the brief Arcadia still;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when the Wanderer quits the vale,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But when the footstep scales the hill,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But when with awe the wide expanse,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Pilgrim's earnest eyes explore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How shrinks the land of sweet Romance,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A speck—it was the world before!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 490]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, hark, the Dorian fifes succeed<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The pastoral reeds of Arcady:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo, where the Spartan meets the Mede,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Near Tempé lies—Thermopylé!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Each onward step in hardy life,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Each scene that memory halts to scan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Demands the toil, records the strife,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And love but once is all to man.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Weep'st thou, fair infant, wherefore weep?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Long ages since the Persian sung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The zephyr to the rose should keep,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And youth should only love the young."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ay, lift those chiding eyes of thine;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The trite, ungenerous moral scorn!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The diamond's home is in the mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The violet's birth beneath the thorn;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There, purer light the diamond gives<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Than when to baubles shaped the ray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, safe at least the violet lives<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From hands that clasp—to cast away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bloom still beside the mournful heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Light still the caves denied the star;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh Eve, with Eden pleased to part,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Since Eden needs no comforter!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My soft Arcadian, from thy bower<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I hear thy music on the hill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bless the note for many an hour<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When I too—am Arcadian still.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whene'er the face of Heaven appears,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As kind as once it smiled on me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll steal adown the mount of years,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And come—a youth once more, to thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From bitter grief and iron wrong<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When Memory sets her captive free,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When joy is in the skylark's song,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My blithesome steps shall bound to thee;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When Thought, the storm-bird, shrinks before<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The width of nature's clouded sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A voice shall charm it home on shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To share the halcyon's nest with thee:<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 491]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo, how the faithful verse escapes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The varying chime that laws decree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, like my heart, attracted, shapes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Each wandering fancy back—to <i>thee</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_EVERLASTING_GRAVE-DIGGER" id="THE_EVERLASTING_GRAVE-DIGGER"></a>THE EVERLASTING GRAVE-DIGGER.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Methought I stood amidst a burial-place<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And saw a phantom ply the sexton's trade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale o'er the charnel bow'd the phantom's face,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Noiseless the phantom spade<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Gleam'd in the stars.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wondering I ask'd, "Whose grave dost thou prepare?"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The labouring ghost disdainful paused and said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"To dig the grave is Death my father's care,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">I disinter the dead<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Under the stars."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Therewith he cast a skull before my feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A skull with worms encircled, and a crown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mouldering shreds of Beauty's winding-sheet.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Chilling and cheerless down<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Shimmer'd the stars.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And of the Past," I sigh'd, "are these alone<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The things disburied? spare the dread repose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or bring once more the monarch to his throne,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">To Beauty's cheek the rose."<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Cloud wrapt the stars,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While the pale sexton answer'd, "Fool, away!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou ask'st of Memory that which Faith must give;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mine is the task to disinter the clay,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Hers to bid life revive,"—<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Cloud left the stars.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 492]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_DISPUTE_OE_THE_POETS" id="THE_DISPUTE_OE_THE_POETS"></a>THE DISPUTE OE THE POETS.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An idyll scene of happy Sicily!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out from its sacred grove on grassy slopes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smiles a fair temple, vow'd to some sweet Power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Nature deified. In broad degrees<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From flower-wreath'd porticos the shining stairs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through tiers of Myrtle in Corinthian urns,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glide to the shimmer of an argent lake.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm rest the swans upon the glassy wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Save where the younger cygnets, newly-pair'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through floating brakes of water-lilies, sail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slowly in sunlight down to islets dim.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But farther on, the lake subsides away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into the lapsing of a shadowy rill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Melodious with the chime of falls as sweet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As (heard by Pan in Arethusan glades)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The silvery talk of meeting Naïades.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Where cool the sunbeam slants through ilex-boughs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fane above them and the rill below,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two forms recline; nor, e'er in Arcady<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did fairer Manhood win an Oread's love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or lift diviner brows to earliest stars.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The one of brighter hues, and darker curls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clustering and purple as the fruit o' the vine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seem'd like that Summer-Idol of rich life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom sensuous Greece, inebriate with delight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Orient myth and symbol-worship brought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To blue Cithæron blithe with bounding faun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wood-nymph wild,—Nature's young Lord, Iacchus!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bent o'er the sparkling brook, with careless hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From sedge or sward, he pluck'd or reed or flower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Casting away light wreaths on playful waves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While,—as the curious ripple murmur'd round<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its odorous prey, and eddying whirl'd it on<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er pebbles glancing sheen to sunny falls,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He laugh'd, as childhood laughs, in such frank glee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The very leaves upon the ilex danced<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joyous, as at some mirthful wind in May.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 493]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The other, though the younger, more serene,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to the casual gaze severer far,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To that bright comrade-shape; by contrast seem'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As serious Morn, star-crown'd on Spartan hills,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Noon, when hyacinths flush through Enna's vales,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or murmurous winglets hum 'mid Indian palms.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such beauty his as the first Dorian bore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the far birthplace of Homeric men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond the steeps of Boreal Thessaly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When to the swart Pelasgic Autocthon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blue-eyed Pallas came with lifted spear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, her twin type of the fair-featured North.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Phœbus, the archer with the golden hair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright was the one as Syrian Adon-ai,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Charming the goddess born from roseate seas;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And while the other, leaning on his lyre,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lifted the azure light of earnest eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From flower and wave to the remotest hill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On which the soft horizon melted down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'n so methought had gazed Endymion,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With looks estranged from the luxuriant day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the far Latmos steep—where holy dreams<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nightly renew'd the kisses of the Moon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Entranced I stood, and held my breath to hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The words that seem'd to warm upon their lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if such contest as two Nightingales<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wage, emulous in music, on the peace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That surely dwelt between them, had anon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forced its mellifluous anger:—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">Then I learn'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the fair Two were orphans, rear'd to youth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Song and the lyre, where ringdoves coo remote,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And loitering bees cull sweets in Hyblan dells:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that their discord, as their union, grew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of their rivalry in lyre and song.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Therewith did each in the accustom'd war<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of pastoral singers in Sicilian noons<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strive for his Right—(O Memory aid me now!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the sweet quarrel of alternate hymns.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="blockquot"> +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>ANTHIOS.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As the sunlight that plays on a stream,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As the zephyr that rustles a leaf,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On my soul comes the joy of the beam,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And a zephyr can stir it to grief.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 494]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whether pleasure or pain be decreed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My voice but in music is heard;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the sunny wave murmurs the reed;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the sighing leaf carols the bird.—<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>LYKEGENES.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Unto her hierarch Nature's voices come<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But through the labyrinthine cells of Thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not at the Porch, doth Isis hold her home,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not to the Tyro are her mysteries taught;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The secret dews of many a starry night<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Feed the vast ocean's stately ebb and flow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The leaf is restless where the branch is slight,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still are the boughs whose shades stretch far below.<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>ANTHIOS.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As the skylark that mounts<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With the dawn to the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the flash from the founts<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the swift Helicon,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Song comes;—and I sing!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wouldst thou question me more?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ask the wave or the wing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Why it sparkle or soar!<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>LYKEGENES.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Full be the soul if swift the inspiration!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The corn-flower opens as the sheaves are rife;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Song is the twin of golden Contemplation<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The harvest-flower of life.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Cloud-compeller's bolt the eagle bears,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But when the wings the strength divine have won,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full many a flight around the rock prepares<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Aspirer towards the Sun;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Progressive heights to gradual effort given,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till, all the plumes in light supreme unfurl'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It halts;—and knits unto the dome of heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i1">This pendant ball—the World.<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>ANTHIOS.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hail, O hail, Pierides,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Free Harmonia's zoneless daughters,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom abrupt the Mœnad sees<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By the marge of moonlit waters,<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 495]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Weaving joy in choral measure<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To no law but your sweet pleasure;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wanton winds in loosen'd hair<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lifting gold that gilds the air;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Say, beneath what starry skies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lurk the herbs that purge the eyes?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On what hill-tops should we cull<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moly of the Beautiful?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What the charm the soul to capture<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the cestus-belt of rapture,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the senses, trembling under,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glass the Shadow-land of Wonder,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And no human hand is stealing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er the music-scale of Feeling?<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">As ceased the question rose delicious winds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stirring the waves that kiss'd the tuneful reeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the wealth of sweets in bells of flowers;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So that, methought, out from all life, the Muse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Murmur'd responses low, and echo'd "<span class="smcap">Feeling</span>!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>LYKEGENES.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Divine Corycides,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose chosen haunts are in mysterious cells,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And alleys dim through gleaming laurel-trees<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dusking the shrine of Delphian oracles,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Under whose whispering shade<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sits the lone Pythian Maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose soul is as the glass of human things;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">While up from bubbling streams<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In mists arise the Dreams<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale with the future of tiara'd kings—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say, what the charm which from ambrosial domes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Draws the Immortal to Time's brazen towers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When on the soul the gentle Thunderer comes—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Comes but in golden showers?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, through the sealèd portals of the sense,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fluent as air the Glory glides unsought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the serene effulgent Influence<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rains all the wealth of heaven upon the thought?<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And as the questions ceased, fell every wind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ilex-boughs droop'd heavy as the hush<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In which the prophet Doves brood weird and calm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amid Dodonian groves;—the broken light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On crispèd waves grew smooth; on earth, in heaven,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 496]</span><span class="i0">The inexpressive majesty of Silence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pass'd as some Orient sovereign to his throne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When all the murmurs cease, and every brow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bends down in awe, and not a breath is heard.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet spoke that stillness of the Eternal Mind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That thinks, and, thinking, evermore creates;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Nature seem'd to answer Poesy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From her deep heart, in thought re-echoing "<span class="smcap">Thought</span>."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>ANTHIOS.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou, whose silver lute contended<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With the careless reed of Pan—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou whose wanton youth descended<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To the vales Arcadian,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At whose coming heavenlier joy<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lighteth even Jove's abode,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ever blooming as the boy<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through thine ages as the god;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair Apollo, if the singer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be like thee the gladness-bringer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If the nectar he distil<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make the worn earth useful still;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As thyself when thou wert driven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the Tempè from the heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the infant over whom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saturn bends his brows of gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Roves he not the world a-maying,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From his Idan halls exiled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or with Time repose in playing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As with Saturn's looks the child.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Therewith from far, where unseen hamlets lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In wooded valleys green, came mellowly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laughter and infant voices, borne perchance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the light hearts of happy Children, sporting<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round some meek Mother's knee;—ev'n so, methought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did the familiar, human, innocent, gladness<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through golden Childhood answer Song, "<span class="smcap">The Child</span>."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>LYKEGENES.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Lord of lustrating streams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And altars pure, appalling secret Crime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eternal Splendour, whose all-searching beams<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Illume with life the universe of Time,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All our own fates thy shrine reveals to us;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thither comes Wisdom from the thrones of earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The unraveller of the sphinx—blind Œdipus,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who knows not ev'n his birth!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 497]</span><span class="i0">On whom, Apollo, does thy presence shine<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through the clear daylight of translucent song?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only to him who serveth at the shrine,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The priesthood can belong!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">After due and deep probation,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only dawns thy revelation<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unto the devout beseecher<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Taught by thee to grow the teacher:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall the bearer of thy bow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let the shafts at random go?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If the altar be divine,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is the sacrifice a feast?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should our hands the garland twine<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For the reveller or the priest?<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Therewith from out the temple on the hill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Broke the rich swell of fifes and choral lyres,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the long melody of such large hymns,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As to the conquest of the Python-slayer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hallow'd thy lofty chant, Calliopé!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus from the penetralian aisles divine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The solemn God replied to Song, "<span class="smcap">The Priest</span>."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>ANTHIOS.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And who can bind in formal duty<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Protean shapes of airy Beauty?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who tune the Teian's lyre of gold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To priestly hymns in temples cold?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Accept the playmate by thy side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ordain'd to charm thee, not to guide.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stream reflects each curve on shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Song alike thy good and error;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let Wisdom be the monitor,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But Song should be the mirror.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To truth direct while Science goes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With measured pace and sober eye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The simplest wild-flower more bestows<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Than Egypt's lore, on Poesy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Magian seer who counts the stars,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Regrets the cloud that veils his skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To me, the Greek, the clouds are cars<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From which bend down divinities!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Like cloud itself this common day<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Let Fancy make awhile the duller,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its iris in the cloud shall play,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And weave thy world the pomp of colour.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 498]</span><span class="i0">He paused; as if in concord with the Song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seem'd to flash forth the universe of hues<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the Sicilian summer: on the banks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crocus, and hyacinth, and anemoné,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Superb narcissus, Cytherea's rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And woodbine lush, and lilies silver-starr'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And delicate cloudlets blush'd in lucent skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yellowing sunbeams shot through purple waves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still from bough to bough the wings of birds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still from flower to flower the gorgeous dyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the gay insect-revellers wandering went—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as I look'd I murmur'd, "Singer, yes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As <span class="smcap">colour</span> to the world, so song to life!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>LYKEGENES.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Conceal'd from Saturn's deathful frown<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The wild Curetes strove,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By chant and cymbal clash, to drown<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The infant cries of Jove.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But when, full-grown, the Thunder-king,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Triumphant o'er the Titan's fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And throned in Ida, look'd on all,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">And all subjected saw;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Saw the sublime Uranian Ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And every joyous living thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calm'd into love beneath his tranquil law;—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then straight above, below, around,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His voice was heard in every sound;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The mountain peal'd it through the cave;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The whirlwind to the answering wave;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By loneliest stream, by deepest dell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It murmur'd in mysterious Pan;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">No less than in the golden shell<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From which the falls of music well<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O'er floors Olympian!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For Jove in all that breathes must dwell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And speak through all to Man.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Singer, who asketh Hermes for his rod,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To lead men's souls into Elysian bowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To whose belief the alter'd earth is trod<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still by Kronidian Powers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If through thy veins the purer tide hath been<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pour'd from the nectar-streams in Hebé's urn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That thou mightst both without thee and within<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feel the pervading Jove—wouldst thou return<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 499]</span><span class="i1">To the dark time of old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Earth-born Force the Heir of Heaven controll'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And with thy tinkling brass aspire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To stifle Nature's music-choir,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And drown the voice of God?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Light, thou poetry of Heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That glid'st through hollow air thy way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That fill'st the starry founts of Even,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And all the azure seas of Day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give to my song thy glorious flow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That while it glads it may illume,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether it gild the iris' bow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And part its rays amid the gloom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or whether, one broad tranquil stream,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It break in no fantastic dyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But calmly weaving beam on beam,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Make Heaven distinct to human eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A truth that floats serene and clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twixt Gods and men an atmosphere;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Less seen itself than bringing all to sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to man's soul what to man's world is Light.<br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then, as the Singer ceased, the western sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Halted a moment o'er the roseate hill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hush'd in pellucent air; and all the crests<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the still groves, and all the undulous curves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of far-off headlands stood distinctly soft<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against the unfathomable purple skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And linking in my thought the outward shows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Beauty with the inward types sublime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By which through Beauty poets lead to Knowledge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And are the lamps of Nature,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">"Yes," I murmur'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Song is to soul what unto life is <span class="smcap">Light</span>!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But gliding now behind the steeps it flush'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The disk of day sunk gradual, gradual down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the homage of the old Religion<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the departing Sun,—the rival two<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ceased their dispute, and bent sweet serious brows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In chorus with the cusps of bended flowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sighing their joint "Farewell, O golden Sun!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now Hesper came, the gentle shepherd-star,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright as when Moschus sung to it;—along<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sacred grove, and through the Parian shafts<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 500]</span><span class="i0">Of the pale temple, shot the glistening rays,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And trembled in the tremor of the wave:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then the fair rivals, as they silent rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turn'd each to each in brotherlike embrace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lone amid starry solitude they stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In equal beauty clasp'd,—and <i>both</i> divine.<a name="FNanchor_A_210" id="FNanchor_A_210"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_210" class="fnanchor">[D]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="GANYMEDE" id="GANYMEDE"></a>GANYMEDE.</h2> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"When Ganymede was caught up to Heaven, he let fall his pipe, on which +he was playing to his sheep."—<span class="smcap">Alexander Ross</span>, <i>Myst. Poet.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Upon the Phrygian hill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He sate, and on his reed the shepherd play'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sunlight and calm: noon in the dreamy glade,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Noon on the lulling rill.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">He saw not, where on high<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The noiseless eagle of the Heavenly King<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rested,—till rapt upon the rushing wing<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Into the golden sky.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">When the bright Nectar Hall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the still brows of bended gods he saw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the quick instinct both of shame and awe<br /></span> +<span class="i6">His hand the reed let fall.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Soul! that a thought divine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bears into heaven,—thy first ascent survey!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What charm'd thee most on earth is cast away;—<br /></span> +<span class="i6">To soar—is to resign!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 501]</span></p> +<h2><a name="MEMNON" id="MEMNON"></a>MEMNON.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Where Morning first appears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waking the rathe flowers in their Eastern bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aurora still with her ambrosial tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Weeps for her Memnon dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Him the Hesperides<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nursed on the marge of their enchanted shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still the smile that then the Mother wore<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Dimples the orient seas.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">He died; and lo, the while<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fire consumed his ashes, glorious things<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With joyous songs, and rainbow-tinted wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Rose from the funeral pile.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">He died; and yet became<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A music; and his Theban image broke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into sweet sounds that with each sunrise spoke<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The Mighty Mother's name.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">O type, thy truth declare!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who is the Child of the Melodious Morn?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who bids the ashes earth receives—adorn<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With new-born choirs the air?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">What can the Statue be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ever answers with enchanted voices<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each rising sun that on its front rejoices?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Speak!—"<span class="smcap">I am Poetry!</span>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 502]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_ANGEL_AND_THE_CHILD" id="THE_ANGEL_AND_THE_CHILD"></a>THE ANGEL AND THE CHILD.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Upon a barren steep,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Above a stormy deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw an Angel watching the wild sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Earth was that barren steep,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Time was that stormy deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the opposing shore—Eternity!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">"Why dost thou watch the wave?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thy feet the waters lave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tide engulfs thee if thou dost delay."<br /></span> +<span class="i4">"Unscathed I watch the wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Time not the Angel's grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wait until the ocean ebbs away."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Hush'd on the Angel's breast<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I saw an Infant rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smiling upon the gloomy hell below.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">"What is the Infant press'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">O Angel, to thy breast?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The child God gave me, in The Long Ago.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">"Mine all upon the earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The Angel's angel-birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smiling each terror from the howling wild."<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Never may I forget<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The dream that haunts me yet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Of Patience nursing Hope—the Angel and the Child</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="TO_A_WITHERED_TREE_IN_JUNE" id="TO_A_WITHERED_TREE_IN_JUNE"></a>TO A WITHERED TREE IN JUNE.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Desolate tree! why are thy branches bare?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">What hast thou done<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To win strange winter from the summer air,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Frost from the sun?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou wert not churlish in thy palmier year<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Unto the herd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tenderly gav'st thou shelter to the deer,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Home to the bird.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 503]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And ever once, the earliest of the grove,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thy smiles were gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Opening thy blossoms with the haste of love<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To the young May.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then did the bees, and all the insect wings<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Around thee gleam;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feaster and darling of the gilded things<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That dwell i' the beam.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy liberal course, poor prodigal, is sped;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">How lonely now!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How bird and bee, light parasites, have fled<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The leafless bough!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Tell me, sad tree, why are thy branches bare?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">What hast thou done<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To win strange winter from the summer air,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Frost from the sun?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Never," replied that forest-hermit lone<br /></span> +<span class="i4">(Old truth and endless!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Never for evil done, but fortune flown,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Are we left friendless.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Yet wholly, nor for winter nor for storm<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Doth Love depart!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We are not all forsaken till the worm<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Creeps to the heart!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ah, nought without, within thee if decay,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Can heal or hurt thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor boots it, if thy heart itself betray,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Who may desert thee!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 504]</span></p> +<h2><a name="ON_THE_REPERUSAL_OF_LETTERS_WRITTEN_IN_YOUTH" id="ON_THE_REPERUSAL_OF_LETTERS_WRITTEN_IN_YOUTH"></a>ON THE REPERUSAL OF LETTERS WRITTEN IN YOUTH.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Strange, as when vaguely through the autumn haze<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Loom the pale scenes last view'd in summer skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out from the mist the thoughts of sunny days<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And golden youth arise.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Were ye, in truth, my thoughts?—along the years<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flies back the wondering and incredulous Mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the still archives of lost hopes and fears<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Your date and tale to find.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gradual and slow, reweaving link to link,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Epoch, and place, and image it recalls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And owns the thoughts it never more can think,—<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Dim pictures in dim halls!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dim pictures now; and once ye breathed and moved,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And took your life as proudly from the sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if immortals!—schemed, aspired, and loved,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And sunk to rest;—sleep on!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On a past self the present self amazed<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Looks, and beholds no likeness!—Canst thou see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the pale features of the phantom raised<br /></span> +<span class="i6">One trace still true to thee?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twas said "The child is father to the man,"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By one whose world was but the shepherd's range.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What seas beyond thy vale, Arcadian,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Ebb and reflow with change!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In the great deeps of reason, heart, and soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through shine or storm still roll the tides unfailing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each separate globule in the restless whole<br /></span> +<span class="i6">In daily airs exhaling.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus evermore, albeit to erring eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The same wild surface dash to shore the spray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That seeming oneness every moment dies,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Drop after drop, away.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 505]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And stern indeed the prison of our doom<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If self from self had no divine escape;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If each dead passion slept not in the tomb;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">If childhood, age could shape.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Happy the man in whom with every year<br /></span> +<span class="i1">New life is born, re-baptized in the past,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In whom each change doth but as growth appear,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The loveliest change the last!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Full many a sun shall vanish from the skies<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And still the aloe show but leaves of thorn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaf upon leaf, and thorn on thorn, arise,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And lo—the flower is born!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_DESIRE_OF_FAME" id="THE_DESIRE_OF_FAME"></a>THE DESIRE OF FAME.</h2> + +<h4>WRITTEN AT THE AGE OF THIRTY.</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I do confess that I have wish'd to give<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My land the gift of no ignoble name.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in that holier air have sought to live,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sunn'd with the hope of Fame.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Do I lament that I have seen the bays<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Denied my own, not worthier brows above,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Foes quick to scoff, and friends afraid to praise,—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">More active hate than love?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Do I lament that roseate youth has flown<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the hard labour grudged its niggard meed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cull from far and juster lands alone<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Few flowers from many a seed?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No! for whoever with an earnest soul<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Strives for some end from this low world afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still upward travels, though he miss the goal,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And strays—but towards a star.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Better than fame is still the wish for fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The constant training for a glorious strife:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The athlete nurtured for the Olympian Game<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Gains strength at least for life.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 506]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wish for Fame is faith in holy things<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That soothe the life, and shall outlive the tomb—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A reverent listening for some angel wings<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That cower above the gloom.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To gladden earth with beauty, or men's lives<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To serve with action, or their souls with truth,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These are the ends for which the hope survives<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The ignobler thirsts of youth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No, I lament not, though these leaves may fall<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the sered branches on the desert plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mock'd by the idle winds that waft; and all<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Life's blooms, its last, in vain!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If vain for others, not in vain for me,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who builds an altar let him worship there;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What needs the crowd? though lone the shrine may be,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Not hallow'd less the prayer.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Eno' if haply in the after days,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When by the altar sleeps the funeral stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When gone the mists our human passions raise,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And Truth is seen alone:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When causeless Hate can wound its prey no more,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And fawns its late repentance o'er the dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If gentle footsteps from some kindlier shore<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Pause by the narrow bed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Or if yon children, whose young sounds of glee<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Float to mine ear the evening gales along,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Recall some echo, in their years to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of not all-perish'd song!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Taking some spark to glad the hearth, or light<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The student lamp, from now neglected fires,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And one sad memory in the sons requite<br /></span> +<span class="i4">What—I forgive the sires.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 507]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_LOYALTY_OF_LOVE" id="THE_LOYALTY_OF_LOVE"></a>THE LOYALTY OF LOVE.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I love thee, I love thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In vain I endeavour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To fly from thine image;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It haunts me for ever.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All things that rejoiced me<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Now weary and pall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I feel in thine absence<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bereft of mine all.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My heart is the dial;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy looks are the sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I count but the moments<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou shinest upon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, royal, believe me,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It is to control<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two mighty dominions,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Heart and the Soul.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To know that thy whisper<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Each pang can beguile;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And feel that creation<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is lit by thy smile.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet every dominion<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Needs care to retain—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dost thou know when thou pain'st me<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or smile at the pain?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alas! the heart-sickness,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The doubt and the dread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When some word that we pine for<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cold lips have not said!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When no pulses respond to<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The feelings we prove;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we tremble to question<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"If <i>this</i> can be love;"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At moments comparing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy heart with mine own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I mourn not my bondage,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I sigh for thy throne.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 508]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For if thou forsake me,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Too well I divine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That no love could defend thee<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From sorrow like mine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And this, O ungrateful,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I most should deplore—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the heart thou hadst broken<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Could shield thee no more!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="A_LAMENT" id="A_LAMENT"></a>A LAMENT.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I stand where I last stood with thee!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Sorrow, O sorrow!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is not a leaf on the trysting-tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is not a joy on the earth to me;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Sorrow, O sorrow!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When shalt thou be once again what thou wert?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, the sweet yesterdays fled from the heart!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Have they a morrow?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here we stood, ere we parted, so close side by side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two lives that once part, are as ships that divide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, moment on moment, there rushes between<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The one and the other, a sea;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, never can fall from the days that have been<br /></span> +<span class="i6">A gleam on the years that shall be!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="LOST_AND_AVENGED" id="LOST_AND_AVENGED"></a>LOST AND AVENGED.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O God, give me rest from a thought!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I cannot escape it nor brave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dread ghost of a joy that I sought<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To harrow my soul from its grave!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Farewell to the smile of the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The cheerful Religion of Trust!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I centred my future in One,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And wake as it crumbles to dust!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, blest are the tears that are shed<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For love that was true to the last.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The future restores us the dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The false we expel from the past.—<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 509]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet all, when I summon my pride<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thyself as I find thee to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again there descends to my side<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The angel I dreamt thee to be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Again thou enchantest my ear;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My soul hangs again on thy breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And murmurs that melt in a tear<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Repeat "I am thine unto death!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Again is the light of thine eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The limpid reflection of Truth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy smile gives me back to the skies<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That lit the ideals of youth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, is it thyself that I mourn,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or is it that dream of my heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which glides from the reach of my scorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And soars from the clay that thou art?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Well, go—take this comfort with thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(I know thou art vain of thy power,)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou hast blighted existence for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou hast left not a germ for the flower;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My star may escape the eclipse,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The music that tuned it is o'er;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The smile may return to my lips—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It fades from my heart evermore;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet dark on thy being will fall<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A shade from the wreck of my own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long years shalt thou sigh over all<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou hast in a day overthrown.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For none shall exalt thee as I!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ah, none whom thy spells may control<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall deck thee in hues from the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And breathe in thy statue his soul.—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">None build from the glories of song<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The brighter existence above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The realm which to poets belong,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The throne they bestow where they love.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 510]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let earth its chill colours regain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The moonlight depart from thy sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Explore through creation in vain<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The fairy land vanish'd with me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I take back the all I had given:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy charm, with my folly is o'er;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the rank I assign'd thee in heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Descend to thy level once more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O grief!—whether here or above,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Must my soul thus be sever'd from thine?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, mourn—though I had not thy love—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The sin that bereaves thee of mine.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_TREASURES_BY_THE_WAYSIDE" id="THE_TREASURES_BY_THE_WAYSIDE"></a>THE TREASURES BY THE WAYSIDE.</h2> + +<h4>A TALE FOR SORROW.</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sky was dull, the scene was wild,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I wander'd up the mountain way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with me went a joyous child,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The man in thought, the child at play,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My heart was sad with many a grief;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mine eyes with former tears were dim;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The child!—a stone, a flower, a leaf,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had each its fairy wealth to him!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From time to time, unto my side<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He bounded back to show the treasure;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I was not hard enough to chide,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor wise enough to share his pleasure.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We paused at last—the child began<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Again his sullen guide to tease;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"They say you are a learnèd man—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So look, and tell me what are these?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Aroused with pain, my listless eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The various spoils scarce wander o'er;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than straight they hail a sage's prize<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In what seem'd infant toys before:<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 511]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This herb was one the glorious Swede<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had given a garden's wealth to find;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That stone had harden'd round a weed<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The earliest deluge left behind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fit stores for science, Discontent<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Had pass'd unheeding on the wild;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Nature had her wonders lent<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As things of gladness to the child!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus, through the present, Sorrow goes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And sees its barren self alone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While healing in the leaflet grows,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Time blooms back within the stone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">O Thou</span>, so prodigal of good,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose wisdom with delight is clad;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How clear should be to Gratitude<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The golden duty—to be glad!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="ADDRESS_TO_THE_SOUL_IN_DESPONDENCY" id="ADDRESS_TO_THE_SOUL_IN_DESPONDENCY"></a>ADDRESS TO THE SOUL IN DESPONDENCY.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No, Soul! not in vain thou hast striven,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unless thou abandon the strife;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forsworn to the banners of Heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If false in the battle of life.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why—counting the gain or the loss—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The badge of the temple assume?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">March on! if thy sign be the Cross,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy triumph must be at the Tomb.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Say, doth not the soldier rejoice<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If placed by his chief at the van?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As spirit, submit to the choice<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The noble would welcome as man.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Farewell to the splendour of light!"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Greek could exulting exclaim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Resign'd to the Hades of Night,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To live in the air as <span class="smcap">a name</span>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Could he, for a future so vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Every pang in the present control,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet thou of a moment complain<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In thine infinite life as a soul?<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 512]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Like thee, do not millions receive<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Their chalice embitter'd with gall?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If good be creation—believe<br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>That</i> good which is common to all!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In evil itself, to the glance<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the wise, half the riddles are clear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were wisdom but perfect, perchance,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The rest might in love disappear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The thunder that scatters the pest<br /></span> +<span class="i1">May be but a type of the whole;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And storms which have darken'd the breast<br /></span> +<span class="i1">May bring but its health to the soul.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Can earth, where the harrow is driven,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The sheaf in the furrow foresee,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or thou guess the harvest of heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where iron has enter'd in thee?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 513]</span></p> +<h1><a name="CORNFLOWERSII" id="CORNFLOWERSII"></a>CORN-FLOWERS.</h1> + + +<h1>BOOK II.</h1> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_SABBATH" id="THE_SABBATH"></a>THE SABBATH.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fresh glides the brook and blows the gale,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yet yonder halts the quiet mill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The whirring wheel, the rushing sail,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">How motionless and still!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Six days of toil, poor child of Cain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy strength the slave of Want may be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The seventh thy limbs escape the chain—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A God hath made thee free!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, tender was the law that gave<br /></span> +<span class="i1">This holy respite to the breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To breathe the gale, to watch the wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And know—the wheel may rest!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But where the waves the gentlest glide<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What image charms, to lift, thine eyes?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spire reflected on the tide<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Invites thee to the skies.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To teach the soul its nobler worth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">This rest from mortal toils is given;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go, snatch the brief reprieve from earth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And pass—a guest to Heaven.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They tell thee, in their dreaming school,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of Power from old dominion hurl'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When rich and poor, with juster rule,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shall share the alter'd world.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alas! since Time itself began,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That fable hath but fool'd the hour;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each age that ripens Power in Man,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But subjects Man to Power.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 514]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet every day in seven, at least,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">One bright republic shall be known;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man's world awhile hath surely ceased,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When God proclaims his own!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Six days may Rank divide the poor,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O Dives, from thy banquet-hall—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The seventh the Father opes the door,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And holds His feast for all!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_HOLLOW_OAK" id="THE_HOLLOW_OAK"></a>THE HOLLOW OAK.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hollow is the oak beside the sunny waters drooping;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thither came, when I was young, happy children trooping;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dream I now, or hear I now—far, their mellow whooping?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gay below the cowslip bank, see the billow dances,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There I lay beguiling time—when I lived romances;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dropping pebbles in the wave, fancies into fancies;—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Farther, where the river glides by the wooded cover,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the merlin singeth low, with the hawk above her<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came a foot and shone a smile—woe is me, the Lover!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Leaflets on the hollow oak still as greenly quiver,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Musical amid the reeds murmurs on the river;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the footstep and the smile?—woe is me for ever!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 515]</span></p> +<h2><a name="LOVE_AND_FAME" id="LOVE_AND_FAME"></a>LOVE AND FAME.</h2> + +<h4>WRITTEN IN EARLY YOUTH.</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>I.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It was the May when I was born,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Soft moonlight through the casement stream'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still, as it were yestermorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I dream the dream I dream'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw two forms from fairy land,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Along the moonbeam gently glide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until they halted, hand in hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My infant couch beside.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>II.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With smiles, the cradle bending o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I heard their whisper'd voices breathe—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The one a crown of diamond wore,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The one a myrtle wreath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Twin brothers from the better clime,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A poet's spell hath lured to thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say which shall, in the coming time,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy chosen fairy be?"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>III.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I stretch'd my hand, as if my grasp<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Could snatch the toy from either brow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And found a leaf within my clasp,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">One leaf—as fragrant now!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If both in life may not be won,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Be mine, at least, the gentler brother—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For he whose life deserves the one,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In death may gain the other.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 516]</span></p> +<h2><a name="LOVE_AT_FIRST_SIGHT" id="LOVE_AT_FIRST_SIGHT"></a>LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>I.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Into my heart a silent look<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flash'd from thy careless eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And what before was shadow, took<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Light of summer skies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The first-born love was in that look;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Venus rose from out the deep<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of those inspiring eyes.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>II.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My life, like some lone solemn spot<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A spirit passes o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grew instinct with a glory not<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In earth or heaven before.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet trouble stirr'd the haunted spot,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And shook the leaves of every thought<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thy presence wander'd o'er!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>III.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My being yearn'd, and crept to thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As if in times of yore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy soul had been a part of mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which claim'd it back once more.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy very self no longer thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But merged in that delicious life,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Which made us <span class="smcap">one</span> of yore!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IV.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There bloom'd beside thee forms as fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">There murmur'd tones as sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But round thee breathed the enchanted air<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Twas life and death to meet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And henceforth thou alone wert fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And though the stars had sung for joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thy whisper only sweet!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 517]</span></p> +<h2><a name="LOVES_SUDDEN_GROWTH" id="LOVES_SUDDEN_GROWTH"></a>LOVE'S SUDDEN GROWTH.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>I.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But yestermorn, with many a flower<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The garden of my heart was dress'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A single tree has sprung to bloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whose branches cast a tender gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That shadows all the rest.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>II.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A jealous and a tyrant tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That seeks to reign alone;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As if the wind's melodious sighs,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The dews and sunshine of the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Were only made for One!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>III.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A tree on which the Host of Dreams<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Low murmur mystic things,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">While hopes, those birds of other skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To dreams themselves chant low replies—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ah, wherefore have they wings?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IV.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The seasons nurse the blight and storm,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The glory leaves the air—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The dreams and birds will pass away,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The blossom wither from the spray—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One day—the stem be bare—<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>V.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But mine has grown the Dryad's life,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Coeval with the tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The sun, the frost, the bloom, the fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My fate, sweet tree, must share them all,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To live and die with thee!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 518]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_LOVE-LETTER" id="THE_LOVE-LETTER"></a>THE LOVE-LETTER.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As grains of gold that in the sands<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of Lydian waters shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The welcome sign of mountain lands<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That veil the silent mine;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus may the river of my thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That glideth now to thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reveal the wealth as yet unwrought,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which Love has heap'd in me!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So strove I to enrich the scroll<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To thy dear hands consign'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I thought to leave the lavish soul<br /></span> +<span class="i1">No golden wish behind!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, fool! to think an hour could drain<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What life can scarce explore—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enough, if guided by the grain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy heart should seek the ore!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_LANGUAGE_OF_THE_EYES" id="THE_LANGUAGE_OF_THE_EYES"></a>THE LANGUAGE OF THE EYES.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Those eyes—those eyes—how full of Heaven they are!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When the calm twilight leaves the heaven most holy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell me, sweet eyes, from what divinest star<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Did ye drink in your liquid melancholy?<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Tell me, belovèd eyes!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Was it from yonder orb that ever by<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The quiet moon, like Hope by Patience, hovers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The star to which hath sped so many a sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Since lutes in Lesbos hallow'd it to Lovers?<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Was that your Fount, sweet Eyes?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ye Sibyl books, in which the truths foretold<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Inspire the Heart, your dreaming priest, with gladness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright Alchemists that turn to thoughts of gold<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The leaden cares ye steal away from sadness,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Teach only me, sweet Eyes!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hush! when I ask ye how, at length, to gain<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The cell where Love, the sleeper, yet lies hidden,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loose not those arch lips from their rosy chain;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Be every answer, save your own, forbidden—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Feelings are words for Eyes!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 519]</span></p> +<h2><a name="DOUBT" id="DOUBT"></a>DOUBT.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bright laughs the sun; the birds, that are to air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like song to life, are gaily on the wing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In every mead the handmaid hours prepare<br /></span> +<span class="i3">The delicates of spring;<a name="FNanchor_A_211" id="FNanchor_A_211"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_211" class="fnanchor">[E]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i4">But, if she love me not!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To me at this fair season still hath been<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In every wild-flower an exhaustless treasure,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, when the young-eyed violet first was seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Methought to breathe was pleasure;—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But, if she love me not!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How, in thy twilight, Doubt, at each unknown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dim shape, the superstitious Love will start;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How Hope itself will tremble at its own<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Light shadow on the heart!—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Ah, if she love me not!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well; I will know the worst, and leave the wind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To drift or drown the venture on the wave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life has two friends in grief itself most kind—<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Remembrance and the Grave—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Mine, if she love me not!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_ASSURANCE" id="THE_ASSURANCE"></a>THE ASSURANCE.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I am loved, I am loved—Jubilate!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hark! hark! how the happy note swells<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To and fro from the fairy bells,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With which the flowers melodiously<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To their banquet halls invite the bee!—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"He is loved, he is loved—Jubilate!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The echo at rest on her mountain-keep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Murmurs the sound in her broken sleep—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"He is loved, he is loved—Jubilate!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And those gossips, the winds, have come to scout<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What the earth is so happy about,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they catch the sound, and circle it round—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"He is loved, he is loved—Jubilate!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the rivers, who, all the world must know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were in love with the stars ever since they could flow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a dimpled cheek and a joyous sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whisper it up to the list'ning sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"He is loved, he is loved—Jubilate!"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 520]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It is not the world that I knew before;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where is the gloom that its glory wore?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not a foe could offend, nor a friend betray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old Hatred hath gone to his grave to-day!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hark! hark! his knell we toll,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here's to the peace of his sinful soul!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the earth below, in the heaven above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nothing is left me now but Love.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love, Love, honour to Love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I am loved, I am loved—Jubilate!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="MEMORIES_THE_FOOD_OF_LOVE" id="MEMORIES_THE_FOOD_OF_LOVE"></a>MEMORIES, THE FOOD OF LOVE.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When shall we come to that delightful day,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When each can say to each, "Dost thou remember?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let us fill urns with rose-leaves in our May,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And hive the thrifty sweetness for December!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For who may deem the throne of love secure,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till o'er the <i>Past</i> the conqueror spreads his reign?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That only land where human joys endure,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That dim elysium where they live again!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Swell'd by a thousand streams the deeps that float<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The bark on which we risk our all, should be.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A rill suffices for the idler's boat:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It needs an ocean for the argosy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The heart's religion keeps, apart from time,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The sacred burial-ground of happy hours;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The past is holy with the haunting chime<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of dreamy sabbath bells from distant towers.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oft dost thou ask me, with that bashful eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"If I shall love thee evermore as now!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feasting as fondly on the sure reply,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As if my lips were virgin of the vow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sweet does that question, "Wilt thou love me?" fall<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Upon the heart that has forsworn its will:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when the words hereafter we recall,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Dost thou remember?" shall be sweeter still.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 521]</span></p> +<h2><a name="ABSENT_YET_PRESENT" id="ABSENT_YET_PRESENT"></a>ABSENT, YET PRESENT.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As the flight of a river<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That flows to the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My soul rushes ever<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In tumult to thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A twofold existence<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I am where thou art;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My heart in the distance<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Beats close to thy heart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Look up, I am near thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I gaze on thy face;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I see thee, I hear thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I feel thine embrace.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As a magnet's control on<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The steel it draws to it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is the charm of thy soul on<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The thoughts that pursue it.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And absence but brightens<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The eyes that I miss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And custom but heightens<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The spell of thy kiss.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It is not from duty,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Though that may be owed,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is not from beauty,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Though that be bestow'd;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But all that I care for,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And all that I know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is that, without wherefore,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I worship thee so.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Through granite as breaketh<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A tree to the ray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As a dreamer forsaketh<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The grief of the day,<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 522]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My soul in its fever<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Escapes unto thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O dream to the griever,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O light to the tree!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A twofold existence<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I am where thou art;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hark, hear in the distance<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The beat of my heart!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="LOVERS_QUARRELS" id="LOVERS_QUARRELS"></a>LOVERS' QUARRELS.</h2> + +<h4>AN OLD MAXIM REFUTED.</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They never loved as thou and I,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who preach'd the laughing moral,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That aught which deepens love can lie<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In true love's lightest quarrel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They never knew, in times of fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The safety of affection,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor sought, when angry fate drew near,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Love's altar for protection.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They never knew how kindness grows<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A vigil and a care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor watch'd beside the heart's repose<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In silence and in prayer;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For weaker love be storms enough<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To frighten back desire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We have no need of gales so rough<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To fan our steadier fire.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twere sweet to kiss thy tears away,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If tears those eyes must know;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But sweeter still to hear thee say,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Thou never badst them flow."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wrongful word will rankling live<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When wrong itself has ceased,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And love, that all things may forgive,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Can ne'er forget the least.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 523]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If pain can not from life depart,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">There's pain enough around us;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rose we wear upon the heart<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Should have no thorn to wound us.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And hollow sounds the wildest vow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If memory wake, the while,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bitter taunt—the darken'd brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The stinging of a smile.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There is no anguish like the hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whatever else befall us,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When one the heart has raised to power<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Exerts it but to gall us.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet if—this calm too blest to last—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Some cloud, at times, must be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm not so proud but I would cast<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The fault alone on me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So deeply blent with thy dear thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All faith in human kindness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Methinks if thou couldst change in aught,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The only bliss were blindness.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But no—if rapture may not last,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It ne'er shall bring regret,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor leave one look in all the past<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Twere mercy to forget.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Repentance often finds, too late,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To wound us is to harden;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And love is on the verge of hate,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Each time it stoops for pardon.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 524]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_LAST_SEPARATION" id="THE_LAST_SEPARATION"></a>THE LAST SEPARATION.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We shall not rest together, love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When death has wrench'd my heart from thine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sun may smile thy grave above,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When clouds are dark on mine!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I know not why, since in the tomb<br /></span> +<span class="i1">No instinct fires the silent heart—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet it seems a thought of gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That even dust should part;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That, journeying through the toilsome past,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thus hand in hand and side by side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rest we reach should, at the last,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The shapes we wore divide;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That the same breezes should not sigh<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The self-same funeral boughs among,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor o'er one grave, at daybreak, die<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The night-bird's lonely song!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A foolish thought! the spirit goal<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is not where matter wastes away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If soul at last regaineth soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What boots it where the dust decay?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A foolish thought, yet human too!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For love is not the soul's alone:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It winds around the form we woo—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The mortal we have known!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The eyes that speak such tender truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The lips that every care assuage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hand that thrills the heart in youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And smoothes the couch in age;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With these—The Human,—human love<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Will twine its thoughts and weave its doom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still confound the life above<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With death beneath the tomb!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And who shall tell, in yonder skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What earthlier instincts we retain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What link, to souls released, supplies<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The old material chain?<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 525]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The stars that pierced this darksome state<br /></span> +<span class="i1">May fade in that meridian shore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And human love, like human hate,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Be memory—and no more!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Away the doubt! alas, how cold<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Would all the promised heaven appear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did yearning love no more behold<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What made its Eden here!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But wheresoe'er the spirit flies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It haunts us in the shape it wore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We give the angel in the skies<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The mortal's smile of yore;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet, ah, when souls from life escape,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Material forms no more they know;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not Heaven itself restores the shape<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So fondly loved below!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Immortal spirits meet above;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But mine is still the human heart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in its faithful human love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It mourns that dust should part!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_POPE_AND_THE_BEGGAR" id="THE_POPE_AND_THE_BEGGAR"></a>THE POPE AND THE BEGGAR.</h2> + +<h4>THE DESIRES THE CHAINS, THE DEEDS THE WINGS.</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I saw a soul beside the clay it wore,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When reign'd that clay the Hierarch-Sire of Rome;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hundred priests stood ranged the bier before,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Within St. Peter's dome.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And all was incense, solemn dirge, and prayer,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And still the soul stood sullen by the clay:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O soul, why to thy heavenlier native air<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Dost thou not soar away?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the soul answer'd, with a ghastly frown,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"In what life loved, death finds its weal or woe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slave to the clay's Desires, they drag me down<br /></span> +<span class="i6">To the clay's rot below!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It spoke, and where Rome's purple ones reposed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They lower'd the corpse; and downwards from the sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both soul and body sunk—and darkness closed<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Over that twofold one!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 526]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Without the church, unburied on the ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">There lay, in rags, a beggar newly dead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above the dust no holy priest was found,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">No pious prayer was said!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But round the corpse unnumber'd lovely things,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hovering unseen by the proud passers by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Form'd, upward, upward, upward, with bright wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">A ladder to the sky!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And what are ye, O beautiful?" "We are,"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Answer'd the choral cherubim, "His Deeds!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then his soul, sparkling sudden as a star,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Flash'd from its mortal weeds,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, lightly passing, tier on tier, along<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The gradual pinions, vanish'd like a smile!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just then, swept by the solemn-visaged throng<br /></span> +<span class="i6">From the Apostle's pile.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Knew ye this beggar?" "Knew! a wretch, who died<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Under the curse of our good Pope, now gone!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Loved ye that Pope?" "He was our Church's pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And Rome's most holy son!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then did I muse: such are men's judgments; blind<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In scorn or love! In what unguess'd-of things,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Desires or Deeds—do rags and purple find<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The fetters or the wings!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_BEAUTIFUL_DESCENDS_NOT" id="THE_BEAUTIFUL_DESCENDS_NOT"></a>THE BEAUTIFUL DESCENDS NOT.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In Cyprus, looking on the lovely sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lone by the marge of music-haunted streams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A youthful poet pray'd: "Descend from high,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou of whose face each youthful poet dreams.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once more, Urania, to the earth be given<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The beauty that makes beautiful the heaven."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Swift to a silver cloudlet, floating o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A rushing Presence rapt him as he pray'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What he beheld I know not, but once more<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The midnight heard him sighing to the shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Again, again unto the earth be given<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The beauty that makes beautiful the heaven."<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 527]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"In vain," a sweet voice answer'd from the star,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Her grace on thee Urania did bestow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unworthy he the loftier realms afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Who woos the gods above to earth below;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rapt to the Beautiful thy soul must be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And not the Beautiful debased to thee!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_LONG_LIFE_AND_THE_FULL_LIFE" id="THE_LONG_LIFE_AND_THE_FULL_LIFE"></a>THE LONG LIFE AND THE FULL LIFE.</h2> + +<h4>IMITATED FROM CLAUDIAN'S "OLD MAN OF VERONA."</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In mine own hamlet, where, amidst the green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By moss-grown pales white gleaming cots are seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There dwelt a peasant in his eightieth year,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dear to my childhood—now to memory dear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the same hut in which his youth had pass'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dwelt his calm age, till earth received at last;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where first his infant footsteps tottering ran,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Propp'd on his staff crawl'd forth the hoary man;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That quiet life no varying fates befell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The patriarch sought no Laban's distant well;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Rothschild's wealth, of Wellesley's mighty name<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To that seal'd ear no faintest murmur came.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His grand event was when the barn took fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His world the parish, and his king the squire.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor clock nor kalend kept account with time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suns told his days, his weeks the sabbath chime;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His spring the jasmine silvering round his door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And reddening apples spoke of summer o'er.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To him the orb that set o'er yonder trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tired like himself, lit no antipodes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the vast world of human fears and hopes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Closed to his sight where yon horizon slopes,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That beech which now o'ershadows half the way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He saw it planted in my grandsire's day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rooted alike where first they braved the weather,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He and the oaks he loved grew old together.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not ten miles distant stands our County-hall—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To him remoter than to thee Bengal;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the next shire appear'd to him to be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What seas that closed on Franklin seem to thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus tranquil on that happy ignorance bore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The green old age still hearty at fourscore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To him, or me—with half the world explored,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And half his years—did life the more afford?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There the grey hairs, and here the furrow'd breast!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ask, first—is life a journey or a rest?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If rest, old Man, long life indeed was thine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if a journey—oh, how short to mine!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 528]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_MIND_AND_THE_HEART" id="THE_MIND_AND_THE_HEART"></a>THE MIND AND THE HEART.</h2> + +<h4>"MA VIE C'EST UN COMBAT."</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Why, ever wringing life from art<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Do men my patient labour find?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I still the murmur of my heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My one consoler is my mind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though every toil but wakes the spell<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To rouse the Falsehood and the Foe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can all the storms that chafe the well,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Disturb the silent <span class="smcap">Truth</span> below?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Mind can reign in Mind alone.—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O Pride, the hollow boast confess!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What slave would not reject a throne<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If built amidst a wilderness?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Before my gaze I see my youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The ghost of gentler years, arise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With looks that yearn'd for every truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And wings that sought the farthest skies.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fresh from the golden land of dreams,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Before this waking world began,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How bright the radiant phantom seems<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Beside the time-worn weary man!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How, then, the Heart rejoiced in all<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That roused the quick aspiring Mind!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What glorious music Hope could call<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From every Memory left behind!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Experience drew not then to earth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The looks that Fancy rear'd above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all that took their kindred birth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From thought or feeling,—blent in love.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In vain a seraph's hand had raised<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The mask from Falsehood's fatal brow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still as fondly I had gazed<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On looks that freeze to marble now.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Can aught that Mind bestows on toil<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Replace the earlier heavenly ray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That did but tremble o'er the soil,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To warm creation into May?<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 529]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But now, in Autumn's hollow sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The heart its waning season shows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the clearness of the sky<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Foretells the coming of the snows.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Farewell, sweet season of the Heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And come, O iron rule of Mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I see the Golden Age depart,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And face the war it leaves behind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Me nevermore may Feeling thrall,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Resign'd to Reason's stoic reign—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But oh, how much of what we call<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Content—is nothing but Disdain!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_LAST_CRUSADER" id="THE_LAST_CRUSADER"></a>THE LAST CRUSADER.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Left to the Saviour's conquering foes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The land that girds the Saviour's grave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Godfrey's crosier-standard rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He saw the crescent-banner wave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There, o'er the gently-broken vale,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The halo-light on Zion glow'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There Kedron, with a voice of wail,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By tombs<a name="FNanchor_A_212" id="FNanchor_A_212"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_212" class="fnanchor">[F]</a> of saints and heroes flow'd;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There still the olives silver o'er<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The dimness of the distant hill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There still the flowers that Sharon bore,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Calm air with many an odour fill.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Slowly <span class="smcap">The Last Crusader</span> eyed<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The towers, the mount, the stream, the plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thought of those whose blood had dyed<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The earth with crimson streams in vain!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He thought of that sublime array,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Hosts, that over land and deep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Hermit marshall'd on their way,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To see those towers, and halt to weep!<a name="FNanchor_B_213" id="FNanchor_B_213"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_213" class="fnanchor">[G]</a><br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 530]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Resign'd the loved familiar lands,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'er burning wastes the cross to bear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rescue from the Paynim's hands<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The empire of a sepulchre!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And vain the hope, and vain the loss,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And vain the famine and the strife;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vain the faith that bore the Cross,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The valour prodigal of life!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And vain was Richard's lion-soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And guileless Godfrey's patient mind—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like waves on shore, they reach'd the goal,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To die, and leave no trace behind!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O God!" the last Crusader cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"And art thou careless of thine own?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For us thy Son in Salem died,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Salem is the scoffer's throne!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And shall we leave, from age to age,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To godless hands the Holy Tomb?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against thy saints the heathen rage—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Launch forth thy lightnings, and consume!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Swift, as he spoke, before his sight<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A form flash'd, white-robed, from above;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All Heaven was in those looks of light,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But Heaven, whose native air is love.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Alas!" the solemn Vision said,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"<i>Thy</i> God is of the shield and spear—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bless the Quick and raise the Dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Saviour-God descended here!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ask not the Father to reward<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The hearts that seek, through blood, the Son;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O warrior! never by the sword<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Saviour's Holy Land is won!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 531]</span></p> +<h2><a name="FOREBODINGS" id="FOREBODINGS"></a>FOREBODINGS.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What are ye?—Strangers from the Phantom shore?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lights that precede Funereal Destinies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'n as the Spectres of the Sun, before<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He rises from the dearth of Arctic seas?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What demon presence haunts the haggard air?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What ice-wind checks the blood and lifts the hair?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What are ye?—"Nightmares known not to the sane,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A sick man's sickly dreams"—the Leech replies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then prates he much of viscera, spleen, and brain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And lays the Ghost with Galen;—"To the wise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All things are matter;" well, we would be taught,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, Leech, dissect the brain;—Now show me <i>Thought</i>!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shame!—to the body, must the soul fulfil<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A slavery thus subjected and entire?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must every crevice into light be still<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Choked with the clod? Each dread, and each desire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of things unknown, be track'd unto its germ<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In some crazed fibre rotting to the worm?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Trust we the dry philosophies that sneer<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Back every guess into the world of spirit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And what were left the present to revere?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And where would fade the future we inherit?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Try Heaven and Hell by the physician's test,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And men know neither—while they well digest!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What mortal hand the airy line can draw<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Twixt Superstition in its shadowy terror<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still Religion in its starry awe?—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Truth when sublime flows least distinct from error;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light of itself eludes our human eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let it take colour, and it spans the skies!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Doubtful Foreshadows, have ye then of yore<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Never been prophets, murmuring weal or woe?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beckoning no Sylla over seas of gore?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Warning no Julius of the fatal blow?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seen in no mother-guise by that pale son<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who led the Mede, and sleeps in Marathon?<a name="FNanchor_A_214" id="FNanchor_A_214"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_214" class="fnanchor">[H]</a><br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 532]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You, the Earth-shakers from whose right hands war<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Falls, as from Jove's the thunderbolt, obey;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gaul's sceptic Cæsar had his guardian star,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stout Cromwell's iron creed its chosen day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis in proportion as men's lives are great,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, fates themselves,—they glass the shades of Fate.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The wisest sage the antique wisdom knew,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gazing into blue space long silent hours,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would commune with his Genius: as the dew<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Recruits the river, so the unseen Powers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Nature feed with thoughts spiritual, soul.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Belief alone links knowledge to The Whole.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hail, then, each gleam, albeit of angry skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Terrible never to the noble sight!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hail the dread lightning, if it lift the eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Up from the dust into the Infinite!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look through thy grate, thou saddest captive, Doubt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thank the flash that shows a Heaven without.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="ORAMA_OR_FATE_AND_FREEWILL" id="ORAMA_OR_FATE_AND_FREEWILL"></a>ORAMA; OR, FATE AND FREEWILL.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thin, shadowy, scarce divided from the light,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I saw a phantom at the birth of morn:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its robe was sable, but a fleecy white<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flow'd silvering o'er the garb of gloom; a horn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It held within its hand; no faintest breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stirr'd its wan lips—death-like, it seem'd not Death.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My heart lay numb within me; and the flow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of life, like water under icebergs, crept;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pulses of my being seem'd to grow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">One awe;—voice fled the body as it slept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But from its startled depth arose the soul<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And king-like spoke:—<br /></span> +<span class="i10">"What art thou, that dost seem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To have o'er Immortality control?"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the Shape answer'd, not by sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i16">"A Dream!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Dream, but not a Dream: the Shade of things<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To come—a herald from the throne of Fate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I ruled the hearts of earth's primæval kings,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I gave their life its impulse and its date:<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 533]</span><span class="i0">Grey Wisdom paled before me, and the stars<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Were made my weird interpreters—my hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aroused the whirlwind of the destined wars,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And bow'd the nations to my still command.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Dream, but not a Dream;—a type, a sign,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pale with the Future, do I come to thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lot of Man is twofold; gaze on thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And choose thy path into eternity."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus spoke the Shade; and as when autumn's haze<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rolls from a ghostly hill, and gives to view<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The various life of troubled human days,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So round the phantom, pale phantasma grew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And landscapes rose on either side the still<br /></span> +<span class="i1">River of Time, whose waves are human hours.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"What," said my soul, "doth not the Omniscient Will<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Foreshape, foredoom; if so, what choice is ours?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Ghost replied:—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">"Deem'st thou the art divine<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Less than the human? Doth inventive Man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All adverse means in one great end combine,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And close each circle where the thought began,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So that his genius, bent on schemes sublime,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Scarce notes the obstructions to its purposed goal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But turns each discord of the changeful time<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Into the music of a changeless whole?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And deem'st thou Him who breathes, and worlds arise,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But the blind agent of His own cold law?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fool! doth yon river less reflect the skies<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Because some wavelet eddies round a straw?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still to Man's choice is either margin given<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Beside the Stream of Time to wander free:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still, as nourish'd by the dews of Heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Glides the sure river to the solemn sea.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Choose as thou wilt!"—<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Then luminously clear<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flash'd either margin from the vapoury shade;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What I beheld unmeet for mortal ear,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor dare I tell the choice the mortal made.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when the Shape had left me, and the dawn<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Smote the high lattice with a starbeam pale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As a blind man when from his sight withdrawn<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The film of dark,—or as unto the gale<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaps the live war-ship from the leaden calm,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So joyous rose, look'd forth, and on to Fate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bounded my soul! Yet nor the Olympian palm<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which fierce contestors hotly emulate,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 534]</span><span class="i0">Nor roseate blooms in Cytherean dell,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor laurel shadowing murmurous Helicon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strain'd my desire divinely visible<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the lone course it was my choice to run.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherefore was then my joy?—<span class="smcap">That I was free!</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not my life doom'd, as I had deem'd till then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An iron link of grim Necessity,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A sand-grain wedged amidst the walls of men;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The good, the ill, the happiness or woe,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That waited, not a thraldom pre-decreed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But from myself as from their germ to grow,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Let the Man suffer, still the Slave was freed!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Predestine earth, and heavenly Mercy dies;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The voice of sorrow wastes its wail on air;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Freewill restores the Father to the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unlocks from ice the living realm of prayer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gives creation what the human heart<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gives to the creature, life to life replying.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O epoch in my being, and mine art,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Known but to me!—How oft do thoughts undying<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like rainbows, spring between the cloud and beam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Colouring the world yet painted on—a dream.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="footnotes"> +<h4>FOOTNOTES</h4> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_207" id="Footnote_A_207"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_207"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Theocrit. Id. 7.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_208" id="Footnote_B_208"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_208"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Mosch, Id. 3; Epitaph on Bion.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_209" id="Footnote_C_209"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_209"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> Theocrit. Id. 2.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_210" id="Footnote_A_210"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_210"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> The reader will perceive that this poem is intended to illustrate a dispute +which can never, perhaps, be critically solved—viz., whether the true business +of the poet be to delight or to instruct;—and he will therefore be disposed to +forgive me if he recognize certain thoughts or expressions freely borrowed +from the various poets, who may be said to represent either side of the question. +Among the moderns, <span class="smcap">Schiller</span> especially has suggested ideas and +illustrations on behalf of the more earnest creed professed by <span class="smcap">Lykegenes</span>—while +<span class="smcap">Goethe</span> has been pressed to the aid of <span class="smcap">Anthios</span>. The Greek poets have +here and there suggested a line on either side. After this general acknowledgment +of obligation, it would be but pedantic to specify each special instance +of imitative paraphrase or direct translation.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_211" id="Footnote_A_211"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_211"><span class="label">[E]</span></a> "The choicest delicates from yonder mead."—<i>The Faithful Shepherdess.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_212" id="Footnote_A_212"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_212"><span class="label">[F]</span></a> The valley Jehoshaphat, through which rolls the torrent of the Kedron, is +studded with tombs.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_213" id="Footnote_B_213"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_213"><span class="label">[G]</span></a> See Tasso, Ger. Lib. cant. iii. st. vi.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_214" id="Footnote_A_214"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_214"><span class="label">[H]</span></a> Hippias, before the battle of Marathon, in which he was slain, dreamt a +dream that he slept with his mother.—See Herodotus.</p></div> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 535]</span></p> +<h1><a name="EARLIER_POEMS" id="EARLIER_POEMS"></a>EARLIER POEMS.</h1> + +<h3>CHIEFLY CRITICAL OR REFLECTIVE.<a name="FNanchor_A_215" id="FNanchor_A_215"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_215" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></h3> + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 536]</span></p> +<h1>EARLIER POEMS.</h1> + + +<h2><a name="THE_SOULS_OF_BOOKS" id="THE_SOULS_OF_BOOKS"></a>THE SOULS OF BOOKS.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>I.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sit here and muse!—it is an antique room—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High-roof'd with casements, through whose purple pane<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unwilling Daylight steals amidst the gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shy as a fearful stranger.<br /></span> +<span class="i12">There <small>THEY</small> reign<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(In loftier pomp than waking life had known),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Kings of Thought!—not crown'd until the grave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Agamemnon sinks into the tomb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The beggar Homer mounts the Monarch's throne!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye ever-living and imperial Souls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who rule us from the page in which ye breathe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All that divide us from the clod ye gave!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Law—Order—Love—Intelligence—the Sense<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Beauty—Music and the Minstrel's wreath!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What were our wanderings if without your goals?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As air and light, the glory ye dispense,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Becomes our being—who of us can tell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What he had been, had Cadmus never taught<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The art that fixes into form the thought—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had Plato never spoken from his cell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or his high harp blind Homer never strung?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kinder all earth hath grown since genial Shakspeare sung!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>II.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hark! while we muse, without the walls is heard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The various murmur of the labouring crowd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How still, within those archive-cells interr'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Calm Ones reign!—and yet they rouse the loud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Passions and tumults of the circling world!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 537]</span><span class="i0">From them, how many a youthful Tully caught<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The zest and ardour of the eager Bar;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From them, how many a young Ambition sought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gay meteors glancing o'er the sands afar—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By them each restless wing has been unfurl'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And their ghosts urge each rival's rushing car!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They made yon Preacher zealous for the truth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They made yon Poet wistful for the star;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gave Age its pastime—fired the cheek of Youth—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The unseen sires of all our beings are,—<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>III.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now so still! This, Cicero, is thy heart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hear it beating through each purple line.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is thyself, Anacreon—yet thou art<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wreath'd, as in Athens, with the Cnidian vine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I ope thy pages, Milton, and, behold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy spirit meets me in the haunted ground!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sublime and eloquent, as while, of old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It flamed and sparkled in its crystal bound;"<a name="FNanchor_A_216" id="FNanchor_A_216"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_216" class="fnanchor">[B]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">These <i>are</i> yourselves—your life of life! The Wise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Minstrel or Sage) <i>out</i> of their books are clay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But <i>in</i> their books, as from their graves, they rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Angels—that, side by side, upon our way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Walk with and warn us!<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Hark! the world so loud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And <i>they</i>, the movers of the world, so still!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What gives this beauty to the grave? the shroud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scarce wraps the Poet, than at once there cease<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Envy and Hate! "Nine cities claim him dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through which the living Homer begg'd his bread!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And what the charm that can such health distil<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From wither'd leaves—oft poisons in their bloom?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We call some books immoral! <i>Do they live?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">If so, believe me, <small>TIME</small> hath made them pure.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Books, the veriest wicked rest in peace—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God wills that nothing evil should endure;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The grosser parts fly off and leave the whole,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the dust leaves the disembodied soul!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come from thy niche, Lucretius! Thou didst give<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man the black creed of Nothing in the tomb!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well, when we read thee, does the dogma taint?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No; with a listless eye we pass it o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And linger only on the hues that paint<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Poet's spirit lovelier than his lore.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 538]</span><span class="i0">None learn from thee to cavil with their God;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None commune with thy genius to depart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without a loftier instinct of the heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou mak'st no Atheist—thou but mak'st the mind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Richer in gifts which Atheists best confute—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Fancy and Thought</span>! 'Tis these that from the sod<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lift us! The life which soars above the brute<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ever and mightiest, breathes from a great Poet's lute!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo! that grim Merriment of Hatred;<a name="FNanchor_B_217" id="FNanchor_B_217"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_217" class="fnanchor">[C]</a>—born<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of him—the Master-Mocker of Mankind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside the grin of whose malignant spleen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Voltaire's gay sarcasm seems a smile serene,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do we not place it in our children's hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leading young Hope through Lemuel's fabled lands?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God's and man's libel in that foul yahoo!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well, and what mischief can the libel do?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O impotence of Genius to belie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its glorious task—its mission from the sky!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift wrote this book to wreak a ribald scorn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On aught the man should love or Priest should mourn—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lo! the book, from all its ends beguiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A harmless wonder to some happy child!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IV.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All books grow homilies by time; they are<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Temples, at once, and Landmarks. In them, we<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who <i>but</i> for them, upon that inch of ground<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We call "<span class="smcap">The Present</span>," from the cell could see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No daylight trembling on the dungeon bar;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turn, as we list, the globe's great axle round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Traverse all space, and number every star,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And feel the Near less household than the Far!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is no Past, so long as Books shall live!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A disinterr'd Pompeii wakes again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For him who seeks yon well; lost cities give<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up their untarnish'd wonders, and the reign<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Jove revives and Saturn:—At our will<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rise dome and tower on Delphi's sacred hill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bloom Cimon's trees in Academe;<a name="FNanchor_C_218" id="FNanchor_C_218"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_218" class="fnanchor">[D]</a>—along<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leucadia's headland sighs the Lesbian's song;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Egypt's Queen once more we sail the Nile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And learn how worlds are barter'd for a smile:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rise up, ye walls, with gardens blooming o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ope but that page—lo, Babylon once more!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 539]</span></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>V.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ye make the Past our heritage and home:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And is this all? No: by each prophet-sage—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No; by the herald souls that Greece and Rome<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sent forth, like hymns, to greet the Morning Star<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That rose on Bethlehem—by thy golden page,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Melodious Plato—by thy solemn dreams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">World-wearied Tully!—and above ye all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By <small>THIS</small>, the Everlasting Monument<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of God to mortals, on whose front the beams<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flash glory-breathing day—our lights ye are<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the dark Bourne beyond; in you are sent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The types of Truths whose life is <span class="smcap">The To-come</span>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In you soars up the Adam from the fall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In you the <span class="smcap">Future</span> as the <span class="smcap">Past</span> is given—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'n in our death ye bid us hail our birth;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unfold these pages, and behold the Heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without one grave-stone left upon the Earth!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="LA_ROCHEFOUCAULD_AND_CONDORCET" id="LA_ROCHEFOUCAULD_AND_CONDORCET"></a>LA ROCHEFOUCAULD AND CONDORCET.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Led by the Graces, through a court he moved,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"All men revered him, and all women loved;"<a name="FNanchor_A_219" id="FNanchor_A_219"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_219" class="fnanchor">[E]</a>—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Happier than Paris, when to <i>him</i> there came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The three Celestials—Learning, Love, and Fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He found the art to soothe them all, and see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Golden Apple shared amidst the Three.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet he, this man, for whom the world assumed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each rose that in Gargettian<a name="FNanchor_B_220" id="FNanchor_B_220"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_220" class="fnanchor">[F]</a> gardens bloom'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Left to mankind a legacy of all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That from earth's sweetness can extract a gall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With him, indeed, poor Love is but a name—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Virtue a mask—Beneficence a game.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Eternal Egotist, the Human Soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sees but in Self the starting-post and goal.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nipp'd in the frost of that cold, glittering air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High thoughts are dwarf'd, and youth's warm dreams despair!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He lived in luxury, and he died in peace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And saints in powder wept at his decease!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man loves this sparkling satire on himself;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gaze round—see Rochefoucauld on every shelf!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 540]</span><span class="i0">Look on the other;—Penury made him sour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His learnèd youth the hireling slave of power;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His Manhood cast amidst the stormiest time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hideous stage, half frenzy and all crime:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the Dungeon's floor of stone he died,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Life's last Friend, his Horace, by his side!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet he—this Sage—who found the world so base,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Left what?—His "Progress of the Human Race."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A golden dream of man without a sin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All virtue round him and all peace within!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man does not love such portraits of himself,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thrusts the unwelcome Flatterer from the shelf.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="JEALOUSY_AND_ART" id="JEALOUSY_AND_ART"></a>JEALOUSY AND ART.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If bright Apollo be the type of Art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So is flay'd Marsyas that of Jealousy:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the bare fibres which for ever smart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the sunbeams that rejoice the sky.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had Marsyas ask'd not with the god to vie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The god had praised the cunning of his flute.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou stealest half Apollo's melody,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tune but thy reed in concert with his lute.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each should enrich the other—each enhance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By his own gift the common Beautiful:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That every colour more may charm the glance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All varying flowers the garland-weavers cull;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Adorn'd by Contrast, Art no rival knows,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The violet steals not perfume from the rose.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_MASTER_TO_THE_SCHOLAR" id="THE_MASTER_TO_THE_SCHOLAR"></a>THE MASTER TO THE SCHOLAR.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Write for the pedant Few, the vein shall grow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cold at its source and meagre in its flow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But for the vulgar Many wouldst thou write,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How coarse the passion, and the thought how trite!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nor Few, nor Many—riddles from thee fall?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Author, as Nature smiles—so write;—for <span class="smcap">All</span>!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 541]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_TRUE_CRITIC" id="THE_TRUE_CRITIC"></a>THE TRUE CRITIC.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Taste is to sense, as Charity to soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A bias less to censure than to praise;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A quick perception of the arduous whole,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where the dull eye some careless flaw surveys.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Every true critic—from the Stagirite<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To Schlegel and to Addison—hath won<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His fame by serving a reflected light,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And clearing vapour from a clouded sun.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who envies him whose microscopic eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">See but the canker in the glorious rose?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not much I ween the Zoïlus we prize,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Though even Homer may at moments doze.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Praise not to me the sharp sarcastic sneer,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mocking the Fane which Genius builds to Time.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High works are Sabbaths to the Soul! Revere<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Even some rare discord in the solemn chime.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When on the gaze the Venus dawns divine,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Cobbler comes the slipper to condemn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Slave alone descends into the mine<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To work the dross—the Monarch wears the gem.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="TALENT_AND_GENIUS" id="TALENT_AND_GENIUS"></a>TALENT AND GENIUS.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Talent convinces—Genius but excites;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This tasks the reason, that the soul delights.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Talent from sober judgment takes its birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And reconciles the pinion to the earth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Genius unsettles with desires the mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Contented not till earth be left behind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Talent, the sunshine on a cultured soil;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ripens the fruit, by slow degrees, for toil;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Genius, the sudden Iris of the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On cloud itself reflects its wondrous dyes:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to the earth, in tears and glory, given,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clasps in its airy arch the pomp of Heaven!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Talent gives all that vulgar critics need—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And frames a horn-book for the Dull to read;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Genius, the Pythian of the Beautiful,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaves its large truths a riddle to the Dull—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From eyes profane a veil the Isis screens,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fools on fools still ask—"What Hamlet means?"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 542]</span></p> +<h2><a name="EURIPIDES" id="EURIPIDES"></a>EURIPIDES.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If in less stately mould thy thoughts were cast<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Than thy twin Masters of the Grecian stage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lone, 'mid the loftier wonders of the Past,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou stand'st—more household to the Modern Age;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou mark'st that change in Manners when the frown<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the vast Titans vanish'd from the earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When a more soft Philosophy stole down<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the dark heavens to man's familiar hearth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With thee came Love and Woman's influence o'er<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Her sterner Lord; and Poesy, till then<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Sculpture, warm'd to Painting;<a name="FNanchor_A_221" id="FNanchor_A_221"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_221" class="fnanchor">[G]</a> what before<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Glass'd but the dim-seen Gods, grew now to men<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clear mirrors, and the Passions took their place,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where a serene if solemn Awe had made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The scene a temple to the elder race:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The struggles of Humanity became<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not those of Titan with a God, nor those<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the great Heart with that unbodied Name<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By which our ignorance would explain our woes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And justify the Heavens,—relentless <span class="smcap">Fate</span>;—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But, truer to the human life, thine art<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made thought with thought, and will with will debate,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And placed the God and Titan in the Heart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy Phædra and thy pale Medea were<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The birth of that most subtle wisdom, which<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dawn'd in the world with Socrates, to bear<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Its last most precious offspring in the rich<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And genial soul of Shakspeare. And for this<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wit blamed thee living, Dulness taunts thee dead.<a name="FNanchor_B_222" id="FNanchor_B_222"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_222" class="fnanchor">[H]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet the Pythian did not speak amiss<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When in thy verse the latent truths she read,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 543]</span><span class="i0">And hail'd thee wiser than thy tribe.<a name="FNanchor_A_223" id="FNanchor_A_223"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_223" class="fnanchor">[I]</a> Of thee<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All genius in our softer times hath been<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The grateful echo; and thy soul we see<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still through our tears—upon the later Scene.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doth the Italian for his frigid thought<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Steal but a natural pathos,—hath the Gaul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To mimes that ape the form of heroes taught<br /></span> +<span class="i1">One step that reels not underneath the pall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the dark Muse—this praise we give, nor more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They just remind us—thou hast lived before!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But that which made thee wiser than the Schools<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Was the long sadness of a much-wrong'd life;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sneer of satire, and the gibe of fools,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The broken hearth-gods and the perjured wife.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Sorrow is the messenger between<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Poet and Men's bosoms:—Genius can<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fill with unsympathizing Gods the Scene,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But Grief alone can teach us what is Man!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_BONES_OF_RAPHAEL" id="THE_BONES_OF_RAPHAEL"></a>THE BONES OF RAPHAEL.</h2> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>When the author was in Rome, in the year 1833, the bones of Raphael were +discovered, and laid for several days in state in one of the churches.</p></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wave upon wave, the human ocean stream'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along the chancel of the solemn pile;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, with a softer day, the tapers beam'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the Bier within the vaulted aisle:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, mingled with the crowd, I halted there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ask'd a Roman scholar by my side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What sainted dust invoked the common prayer?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Stranger!" the man, as in disdain, replied,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nine days already hath the Disinterr'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Been given again to mortal eye, and all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The great of Rome, the Conclave and the Pope,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have flock'd to grace the second funeral<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of him whose soul, until it fled, like Hope,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gave Beauty to the World:—But haply thou,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A dweller of the North, hast never heard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of one who, if no saint in waking life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Communed in dreams with angels, and transferr'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heaven in which we trust his soul is now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the mute canvas.—Underneath that pall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Repose the bones of Raphael!"<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 544]</span><span class="i14">Not a word<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I answer'd, but in awe I drew more near,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And saw the crowd toil on in busy strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eager which first should touch the holy bier,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I ask'd a boor, more earnest than the rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Whose bones are these?"<br /></span> +<span class="i10">"I know not what his name;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, since the Pope and Conclave have been here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doubtless a famous Saint!"<br /></span> +<span class="i11">The Boor express'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The very thought the wandering stranger guess'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which wiser, he, the Scholar, who had sneer'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hear the Stranger canonize the Dead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or they, the Boor, the Stranger, who revered<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Saint, where he the Artist?—Answer, Fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose Saints are not the Calendar's! Perchance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tasso and Raphael, age to age, have given<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The earth a lustre more direct from Heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than San Gennaro, or thy Dennis, France;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or English George!—Read History.<a name="FNanchor_B_224" id="FNanchor_B_224"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_224" class="fnanchor">[J]</a>—<br /></span> +<span class="i16">When the crowd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were gone, I slipp'd some coins into the hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a grave-visaged Priest, who took his stand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside the Bier, and bade him lift the shroud;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there I paused, and gazed upon the all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Worm had spared to Raphael.—He had died,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As sang the Alfieri of our land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the embrace of Beauty<a name="FNanchor_C_225" id="FNanchor_C_225"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_225" class="fnanchor">[K]</a>—beautiful<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Himself as Cynthia's lover!—That, the skull<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once pillow'd on soft bosoms, which still rise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With passionate life, in canvas;—in the void<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of those blank sockets shone the starry eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, <i>like</i> the stars, found home in heaven! The pall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With its dark hues, gave forth, in gleaming white,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The delicate bones; for still an undestroy'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beauty, amidst decay, appear'd to dwell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About the mournful relics; and the light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In crownlike halo, lovingly did fall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the broad brow,—the hush'd and ruin'd cell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the old Art—Nature's sweet Oracle!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Believe or not, no horror seem'd to wrap<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 545]</span><span class="i0">What has most horror for our life—the Dead:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sleep slept soft, as in a mother's lap,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if the Genius of the Grecian Death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That with a kiss inhaled the parting breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, wing'd for Heaven, stood by the charnel porch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lowering, with looks of love, th' extinguish'd torch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had taken watch beside the narrow bed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from the wrecks of the beloved clay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had scared, with guardian eyes, each ghastlier shape away!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, Moralist, with truths of tritest worth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tell us how "to this complexion" all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That beautify the melancholy earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Must come at last!" The little and the low,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mob of common men, rejoice to know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How the grave levels with themselves the great:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For something in the envy of the small<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still loves the vast Democracy of Death!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But flatter not yourselves—in death the fate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Genius still divides itself from yours:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, ev'n upon the earth! For Genius lives<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not in your life—it does not breathe your breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It does not share your charnels;—but insures<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In death itself the life that life survives!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Genius to you what most you value gave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The noisy forum and the glittering mart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The solid goods and mammon of the world,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In <i>these</i> your life—and <i>these</i> with life depart!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grudge not what Genius to itself shall claim—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A life that lived but in the dreams of Art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A world whose sunshine was the smile from Fame.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These die not, Moralist, when all are hurl'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fasces and sceptre, in the common grave:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Genius, in life or death, is still the same—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Death but makes deathless what Life ask'd—<span class="smcap">the Name</span>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 546]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_ATHENIAN_AND_THE_SPARTAN" id="THE_ATHENIAN_AND_THE_SPARTAN"></a>THE ATHENIAN AND THE SPARTAN.</h2> + +<h4>A DIALOGUE.</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>THE ATHENIAN.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stern Prisoner in thy rites of old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Learning blind, to Beauty cold,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never for thee, with garlands crown'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lyre and myrtle circle round;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dull to the Lesbian ruby's froth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou revellest in thy verjuice broth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Phidian art our temples shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like mansions meet for gods divine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou think'st <i>thy</i> gods despise such toys,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shrines are made—for scourging boys,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As triflers, thou canst only see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Drama's Kings—our glorious Three.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No Plato fires your youth to thinking,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your nobler school,—in Helots drinking!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Contented as your sires before—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Little makes ye loathe The More.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We, ever pushing forward, still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take power, where powerless, from the will;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We, ever straining at the All,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With hands that grasp when feet may fall,<a name="FNanchor_A_226" id="FNanchor_A_226"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_226" class="fnanchor">[L]</a>—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth, ocean,—near and far,—we roam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Fame, where Fortune,—there a home!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You hold all progress degradation,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Improvement but degeneration,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And only wear your scarlet coat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When self-defence must cut a throat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet ev'n in war, your only calling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A snail would beat your best at crawling;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We slew the Mede at Marathon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While you were gazing at the moon!<a name="FNanchor_B_227" id="FNanchor_B_227"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_227" class="fnanchor">[M]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pshaw, man, lay by these antique graces,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">True wisdom hates such solemn faces!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spartans, if only livelier fellows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would make ev'n <span class="smcap">us</span> a little jealous!<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 547]</span><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>THE SPARTAN</small> (<i>calmly</i>).<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Friend, Spartans when they need improvement<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take models not from endless movement.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We found our sires the lords of Greece;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ask'd why? this answer—"Laws and Peace."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enough for us to hold our own;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who grasps at shadows risks the bone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You're ever up, and ever down,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's something fix'd in True Renown.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The New has charms for men, I'm told;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Granted,—but all our gods are old.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Better to imitate a god<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than shift like men.<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>THE ATHENIAN</small> (<i>impatiently</i>).<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">You are so odd!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is no sense in these laconics.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ho, Dromio! bring my last Platonics.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This mode of arguing, though emphatic,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is quite eclipsed by the Socratic.<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>SPARTAN.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Friend—<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>ATHENIAN.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4"><i>You</i> have said. Now listen! Peace!<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>SPARTAN.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Friend—<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>ATHENIAN.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Gods! his tongue will never cease!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I tell you, man is made for walking,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not standing still.<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>SPARTAN.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">My friend—<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>ATHENIAN.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">And talking!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forward's my motto—life and motion!<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>SPARTAN.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mine be the Rock, as thine the Ocean.<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>TIME.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Discuss, ye symbols of the twain<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Great Creeds—<span class="smcap">the Steadfast and Improving</span>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The one shall rot that would remain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The one wear out in moving!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 548]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE" id="THE"></a><small>THE</small><br /> +PHILANTHROPIST AND THE MISANTHROPE.</h2> + +<h4>A DIALOGUE.</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>THE PHILANTHROPIST.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yes, thou mayst sneer, but still I own<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A love that spreads from zone to zone:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No time the sacred fire can smother!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where breathes the man, I hail the brother.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man! how sublime,—from Heaven his birth—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The God's bright Image walks the earth!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if, at times, his footstep strays,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I pity where I may not praise.<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>THE MISANTHROPE.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou lov'st mankind. Pray tell me, then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What history best excuses men?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long wars for slight pretences made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See murder but a glorious trade;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each landmark from the savage state,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doth virtue or a vice create?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do ships speed plenty o'er the main?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What swells the sail? The lust of gain!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What makes a law where laws were not?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strength's wish to keep what Strength has got!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If rise a Few—the true Sublime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who lend the light of Heaven to Time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What the return the Many make?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The poison'd bowl! the fiery stake!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou lov'st mankind,—come tell me, then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lov'st thou the past career of men?<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>THE PHILANTHROPIST.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nay, little should I love mankind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If their dark <span class="smcap">Past</span> my praise could find,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is because—<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>THE MISANTHROPE.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">A moment hold!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enough gone times: <i>our own</i> behold!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What lessons doth a past of woe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And crime upon our age bestow?<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 549]</span><span class="i0">How few amongst the tribes of earth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Are rescued from the primal wild;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What countless lands the ocean's girth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By savage rites and gore defil'd!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Afric—a mart of human flesh;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Asia—a satrapy of slaves!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yonder tracts from Nature fresh,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Worn empires fill with knaves?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are men at home more good and wise?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My friend, thou read'st the daily papers;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perchance, thou seest but laughing skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where I but mists and vapours.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But much the same seems each disease.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What most improved? The doctor's fees!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Law can still oppress the Weak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Proud still march before the Meek.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still crabbed Age and heedless Youth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still Power perplex'd, asks "What is Truth?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To no result our squabbles come:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To some what's best is worst to some.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The few the cake amongst them carve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And labourers sweat and poets starve;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Envy still on Genius feeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And not one modest man succeeds.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All much the same for prince and peasant—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've done.—How dost thou love the <span class="smcap">Present</span>?<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>THE PHILANTHROPIST.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Tis not man's Present or man's Past;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Beyond</i>, man's friend his eye must cast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must see him break each galling fetter;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To gain the best, desire the better—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Discontent itself we borrow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The glorious yearnings for the morrow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Science and Truth like waves advance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the antique Ignorance.<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>THE MISANTHROPE.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Like waves—the image not amiss!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They gain on that side—lose on this;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pleased, after fifty ages, if<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They gulp at last an inch of cliff.<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>THE PHILANTHROPIST.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You really cannot think by satire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To mine the truths you cannot batter;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man's destinies are brightening slowly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With them entwined each thought most holy.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 550]</span><span class="i0">What though the <span class="smcap">Past</span> my horror moves,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">No Eden though the <span class="smcap">Present</span> seems,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who loves Mankind, their <span class="smcap">Future</span> loves,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And trusts, and lives—<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>THE MISANTHROPE.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">In dreams!<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>WISDOM.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In both extremes there seems convey'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A truth to own, and yet deny;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But what between the extremes has made<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The master-difference?<br /></span> +</div><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><small>HOPE.</small><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What wert thou, Wisdom, but for me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though thou the Past, the Present see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through <small>ME</small> alone, the eye can mark<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The <i>Future</i> dawning on the dark.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I plant the tree, and till the soil;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I show the fruit,—where thou the toil;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where thou despondest, I aspire—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thine sad Content, mine bright Desire.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under my earthlier name of <span class="smcap">Hope</span>,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The love to things unborn is given,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But call me <span class="smcap">Faith</span>—behold I ope<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The flaming gates of Heaven!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take <small>ME</small> from Man, and Man is both<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Dastard and the Slave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Love is lust, and Peace a sloth,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And all the Earth a Grave!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 551]</span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_IDEAL_WORLD" id="THE_IDEAL_WORLD"></a>THE IDEAL WORLD.</h2> + + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 552]</span></p> +<h4>ARGUMENT.</h4> + + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Section I.</span></p> + +<p>The Ideal World—Its realm is everywhere around us—Its inhabitants are +the immortal personifications of all beautiful thoughts—To that World we +attain by the repose of the senses.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Section II.</span></p> + +<p>Our dreams belong to the Ideal—The diviner love for which youth sighs, not +attainable in life—But the pursuit of that love, beyond the world of the senses, +purifies the soul, and awakes the Genius—Instances in Petrarch—Dante.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Section III.</span></p> + +<p>Genius, lifting its life to the Ideal becomes itself a pure idea—It must comprehend +all existence: all human sins and sufferings—But, in comprehending, +it transmutes them—The Poet in his twofold being—The actual and the ideal—The +influence of Genius over the sternest realities of earth—Over our +passions—wars and superstitions—Its identity is with human progress—Its +agency, even where unacknowledged, is universal.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Section IV.</span></p> + +<p>Forgiveness to the errors of our benefactors.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Section V.</span></p> + +<p>The Ideal is not confined to Poets—Algernon Sydney recognizes his Ideal in +liberty, and believes in its triumph where the mere practical man could behold +but its ruins—Yet liberty in this world must ever be an Ideal, and the land that +it promises can be found but in death.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Section VI.</span></p> + +<p>Yet all have two escapes into the Ideal World; viz. Memory and Hope—Example +of Hope in youth, however excluded from action and desire—Napoleon's +son.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Section VII.</span></p> + +<p>Example of Memory as leading to the Ideal—Amidst life, however humble, +and in a mind however ignorant—the village widow.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Section VIII.</span></p> + +<p>Hence in Hope, Memory, and Prayer, all of us are Poets.</p> + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 553]</span></p> +<h2>THE IDEAL WORLD.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>I.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Around "this visible diurnal sphere,"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">There floats a world that girds us like the space;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On wandering clouds and gliding beams career<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Its ever-moving, murmurous Populace.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There, all the lovelier thoughts conceived below,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ascending live, and in celestial shapes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To that bright World, O Mortal, wouldst thou go?—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bind but thy senses, and thy soul escapes:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To care, to sin, to passion close thine eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sleep in the flesh, and see the Dreamland rise!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hark, to the gush of golden waterfalls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or knightly tromps at Archimagian walls!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the green hush of Dorian Valleys mark<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The River Maid her amber tresses knitting:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When glow-worms twinkle under coverts dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And silver clouds o'er summer stars are flitting,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With jocund elves invade "the Moone's sphere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear;"<a name="FNanchor_A_228" id="FNanchor_A_228"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_228" class="fnanchor">[N]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, list! what time the roseate urns of dawn<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Scatter fresh dews, and the first skylark weaves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joy into song—the blithe Arcadian Faun<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Piping to wood-nymphs under Bromian leaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While, slowly gleaming through the purple glade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come Evian's panther car, and the pale Naxian Maid.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Such, O Ideal World, thy habitants!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All the fair children of creative creeds—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the lost tribes of Phantasy are thine—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From antique Saturn in Dodonian haunts,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or Pan's first music waked from shepherd reeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the last sprite when heaven's pale lamps decline,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heard wailing soft along the solemn Rhine.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 554]</span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>II.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thine are the Dreams that pass the Ivory Gates,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With prophet shadows haunting poet eyes!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thine the beloved illusions youth creates<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the dim haze of its own happy skies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vain we pine—we yearn on earth to win<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The being of the heart, our boyhood's dream.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Psyche and the Eros ne'er have been,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Save in Olympus, wedded!—As a stream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glasses a star, so life the ideal love;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Restless the stream below—serene the orb above!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ever the soul the senses shall deceive;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here custom chill, there kinder fate bereave:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For mortal lips unmeet eternal vows!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Eden-flowers for Adam's mournful brows!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We seek to make the moment's angel-guest<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The household dweller at a human hearth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We chase the bird of Paradise, whose nest<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Was never found amid the bowers of earth.<a name="FNanchor_B_229" id="FNanchor_B_229"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_229" class="fnanchor">[O]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet loftier joys the vain pursuit may bring,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Than sate the senses with the boons of time;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bird of Heaven hath still an upward wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The steps it lures are still the steps that climb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the ascent, although the soil be bare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More clear the daylight and more pure the air.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let Petrarch's heart the human mistress lose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He mourns the Laura, but to win the Muse:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could all the charms which Georgian maids combine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Delight the soul of the dark Florentine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like one chaste dream of childlike Beatrice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Awaiting Hell's stern pilgrim in the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Snatch'd from below to be the guide above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And clothe Religion in the form of Love?<a name="FNanchor_C_230" id="FNanchor_C_230"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_230" class="fnanchor">[P]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>III.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O, thou true Iris! sporting on thy bow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of tears and smiles—Jove's herald, Poetry!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou reflex image of all joy and woe—<br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>Both</i> fused in light by thy dear phantasy!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo! from the clay how Genius lifts its life,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And grows one pure Idea—one calm soul!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 555]</span><span class="i0">True, its own clearness must reflect our strife;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">True, its completeness must comprise our whole:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But as the sun transmutes the sullen hues<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of marsh-grown vapours into vermeil dyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And melts them later into twilight dews,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shedding on flowers the baptism of the skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So glows the Ideal in the air we breathe—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So from the fumes of sorrow and of sin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doth its warm light in rosy colours wreathe<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Its playful cloudland, storing balms within.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Survey the Poet in his mortal mould<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Man amongst men, descended from his throne!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moth that chased the star now frets the fold,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Our cares, our faults, our follies are his own.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Passions as idle, and desires as vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vex the wild heart, and dupe the erring brain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Freedom's field the recreant Horace flies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To kiss the hand by which his country dies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Mary's grave the mighty Peasant turns,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hoarse with orgies rings the laugh of Burns.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Rousseau's lips a lackey's vices own,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lips that could draw the thunder on a throne!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when, from Life the Actual, <span class="smcap">Genius</span> springs,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When, self-transform'd by its own Magic rod,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It snaps the fetters and expands the wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And drops the fleshly garb that veil'd the god,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How the mists vanish as the form ascends!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How in its aureole every sunbeam blends!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the Arch-Brightener of Creation seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">How dim the crowns on perishable brows!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The snows of Atlas melt beneath the sheen,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Through Thebaid caves the rushing splendour flows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cimmerian glooms with Asian beams are bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Earth reposes in a belt of light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now stern as Vengeance shines the awful form,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arm'd with the bolt and glowing through the storm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sets the great deeps of human passion free,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whelms the bulwarks that would breast the sea.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Roused by its voice the ghastly Wars arise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mars reddens earth, the Valkyrs pale the skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dim Superstition from her hell escapes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With all her shadowy brood of monster shapes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here Life itself lie scowl of Typhon<a name="FNanchor_D_231" id="FNanchor_D_231"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_231" class="fnanchor">[Q]</a> takes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There Conscience shudders at Alecto's snakes;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 556]</span><span class="i0">From Gothic graves at midnight yawning wide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In gory cerements gibbering spectres glide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And where o'er blasted heaths the lightnings flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Black secret hags "do deeds without a name!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet through its direst agencies of awe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light marks its presence and pervades its law,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, like Orion when the storms are loud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It links creation while it gilds a cloud.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By ruthless Thor, free Thought, frank Honour stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fame's grand desire, and zeal for Fatherland;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The grim Religion of Barbarian Fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With some Hereafter still connects the Here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lifts the gross sense to some spiritual source,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thrones some Jove above the Titan Force,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till, love completing what in awe began,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the rude savage dawns the thoughtful man.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, O behold the glorious Comforter!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still bright'ning worlds, but gladd'ning now the hearth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or like the lustre of our nearest star,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fused in the common atmosphere of earth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It sports like hope upon the captive's chain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Descends in dreams upon the couch of pain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To wonder's realm allures the earnest child;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the chaste love refines the instinct wild;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as in waters the reflected beam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still where we turn, glides with us up the stream;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And while in truth the whole expanse is bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yields to each eye its own fond path of light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So over life the rays of Genius fall,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give each his track because illuming all.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>IV.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hence is that secret pardon we bestow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the true instinct of the grateful heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the Sons of Song. The good they do<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the clear world of their Uranian art<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Endures for ever; while the evil done<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the poor drama of their mortal scene,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is but a passing cloud before the sun;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Space hath no record where the mist hath been.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Boots it to us, if Shakspeare err'd like man?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Why idly question that most mystic life?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eno' the giver in his gifts to scan;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To bless the sheaves with which thy fields are rife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor, blundering, guess through what obstructive clay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The glorious corn-seed struggled up to day.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 557]</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>V.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But not to you alone, O Sons of Song,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wings that float the loftier airs along.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whoever lifts us from the dust we are,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Beyond the sensual to spiritual goals;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who from the <span class="smcap">Moment</span> and the <span class="smcap">Self</span> afar<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By deathless deeds allures reluctant souls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gives the warm life to what the Limner draws,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plato but thought what godlike Cato was.<a name="FNanchor_E_232" id="FNanchor_E_232"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_232" class="fnanchor">[R]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Recall the wars of England's giant-born,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is Elyot's voice—is Hampden's death in vain?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have all the meteors of the vernal morn<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But wasted light upon a frozen main?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where is that child of Carnage, Freedom, flown?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Sybarite lolls upon the Martyr's throne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lewd, ribald jests succeed to solemn zeal;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And things of silk to Cromwell's men of steel.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cold are the hosts the tromps of Ireton thrill'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hush'd the senates Vane's large presence fill'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In what strong heart doth the old manhood dwell?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where art thou Freedom?—Look—in Sidney's cell!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There still as stately stands the living Truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smiling on age as it had smiled on youth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her forts dismantled, and her shrines o'erthrown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The headsman's block her last dread altar-stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No sanction left to Reason's vulgar hope—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far from the wrecks expands her prophet's scope.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Millennial morns the tombs of Kedron gild,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hands of saints the glorious walls rebuild,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till, each foundation garnish'd with its gem,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High o'er Gehenna flames Jerusalem!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O thou blood-stain'd Ideal of the free,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose breath is heard in clarions—Liberty!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sublimer for thy grand illusions past,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou spring'st to Heaven—Religion at the last.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alike below, or commonwealths, or thrones,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where'er men gather some crush'd victim groans;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only in death thy real form we see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All life is bondage—souls alone are free.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus through the waste the wandering Hebrews went,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fire on the march, but cloud upon the tent.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At last on Pisgah see the prophet stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before his vision spreads the <span class="smcap">Promised Land</span>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But where reveal'd the Canaan to his eye?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the mountain he ascends to die.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 558]</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VI.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet whatsoever be our bondage here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All have two portals to the Phantom sphere,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who hath not glided through those gates that ope,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond the Hour, to <span class="smcap">Memory</span> or to <span class="smcap">Hope</span>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give Youth the Garden,—still it soars above—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seeks some far glory—some diviner love.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Place Age amidst the Golgotha—its eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still quit the graves, to rest upon the skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And while the dust, unheeded, moulders there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Track some lost angel through cerulean air.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lo! where the Austrian binds, with formal chain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The crownless son of earth's last Charlemain—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Him, at whose birth laugh'd all the violet vales<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(While yet unfallen stood thy sovereign star,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Lucifer of Nations)—hark, the gales<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Swell with the victor-shout from hosts, whose war<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rended the Alps, and crimson'd Memphian Nile—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Way for the coming of the Conqueror's Son:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Woe to the Merchant-Carthage of the Isle!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Woe to the Scythian Ice-world of the Don!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Thunder Lord, thy Lemnian bolts prepare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Eagle's eyrie hath its eagle heir!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hark, at that shout from north to south, grey Power<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quails on its weak, hereditary thrones;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And widow'd mothers prophesy the hour<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of future carnage to their cradled sons.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What! shall our race to blood be thus consign'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Até claim an heirloom in mankind?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are these red lots unshaken in the urn?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Years pass—approach, pale Questioner—and learn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chain'd to his rock, with brows that vainly frown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fallen Titan sinks in darkness down!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sadly gazing through his gilded grate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold the child whose birth, was as a fate!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far from the land in which his life began;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wall'd from the healthful air of hardy man;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rear'd by cold hearts, and watch'd by jealous eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His guardians jailors, and his comrades spies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each trite convention courtly fears inspire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To stint experience and to dwarf desire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Narrows the action to a puppet stage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And trains the eaglet to the starling's cage.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the dejected brow and smileless cheek,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What weary thought the languid lines bespeak:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till drop by drop, from jaded day to day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sickly life-streams ooze themselves away.<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 559]</span><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet oft in <span class="smcap">Hope</span> a boundless realm was thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That vaguest Infinite—the Dream of Fame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Son of the sword that first made kings divine,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Heir to man's grandest royalty—a Name!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then didst thou burst upon the startled world,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And keep the glorious promise of thy birth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then were the wings that bear the bolt unfurl'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A monarch's voice cried, "Place upon the Earth!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A new Philippi gain'd a second Rome,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the Son's sword avenged the greater Cæsar's doom.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But turn the eye to Life's sequester'd vale,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And lowly roofs remote in hamlets green.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft in my boyhood where the moss-grown pale<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fenced quiet graves, a female form was seen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each eve she sought the melancholy ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lingering paused, and wistful look'd around;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If yet some footstep rustled through the grass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Timorous she shrunk, and watch'd the shadow pass.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, when the spot lay lone amidst the gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crept to one grave too humble for a tomb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There silent bow'd her face above the dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For, if in prayer, the prayer was inly said;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still as the moonbeam, paused her quiet shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still as the moonbeam, through the yews to fade.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose dust thus hallow'd by so fond a care?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What the grave saith not—let the heart declare.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">On yonder green two orphan children play'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By yonder rill two plighted lovers stray'd.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In yonder shrine two lives were blent in one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And joy-bells chimed beneath a summer sun.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poor was their lot—their bread in labour found;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No parent bless'd them, and no kindred own'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They smiled to hear the wise their choice condemn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They loved—they loved—and love was wealth to them!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hark—one short week—again the holy bell!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still shone the sun, but dirge-like boom'd the knell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when for that sweet world she knew before<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look'd forth the bride,—she saw a grave the more.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full fifty years since then have pass'd away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her cheek is furrow'd, and her hair is grey.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet when she peaks of <i>him</i> (the times are rare),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hear in her voice how youth still trembles there!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The very name of that young life that died,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still heaves the bosom, and recalls the bride.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'>[Pg 560]</span><span class="i0">Lone o'er the widow's hearth those years have fled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The daily toil still wins the daily bread;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No books deck sorrow with fantastic dyes:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her fond romance her woman heart supplies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, to the sabbath of still moments given,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Day's taskwork done)—to memory, death, and heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There may—(let poets answer me!) belong<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thoughts of such pathos as had beggar'd song.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="cen"> +<span class="i0"><b>VIII.</b><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yes, while thou hopest, music fills the air;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">While thou rememberest, life reclothes the clod;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While thou canst feel the electric chain of prayer,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Breathe but a thought, and be a soul with God!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let not these forms of matter bound thine eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He who the vanishing point of Human things<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lifts from the landscape—lost amidst the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Has found the Ideal which the poet sings—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has pierced the pall around the senses thrown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And is himself a poet—though unknown.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'>[Pg 561]</span></p> +<h2><a name="EPIGRAPH" id="EPIGRAPH"></a>EPIGRAPH.</h2> + +<h4>"COGITO—ERGO SUM."</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Self of myself, unto the future age<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pass, murmuring low whate'er thine own has taught,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I think, and therefore am,"—exclaim'd the Sage:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As now the Man, so henceforth be the page;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">A life, because a thought.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Through various seas, exploring shores unknown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A soul went forth, and here bequeaths its chart—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here Doubt retains the question, Grief the groan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And here may Faith still shine, as when she shone<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And saved a sinking heart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From the lost nectar-streams of golden youth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From rivers loud with Babel's madding throng,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From wells whence Lore invokes reluctant Truth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that blest pool the wings of angels smooth,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Life fills mine urns of song.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Calmly to time I leave these images<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of things experienced, suffer'd, felt, and seen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fruits shed or tempest-torn from changeful trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shells murmuring back the tides in distant seas—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Signs where a Soul has been.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As for the form Thought takes—the rudest hill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Echoes denied to gardens back may give;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life speaks in all the forms which Thought can fill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thought once born can perish not—here still<br /></span> +<span class="i8">I think, and therefore live!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="footnotes"> +<h4>FOOTNOTES</h4> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_215" id="Footnote_A_215"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_215"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> These Poems, with one exception, have received but little alteration since +they were first composed, and are taken from the little volume called +"Eva, &c." The Poem called "<span class="smcap">The Ideal World</span>," to which I refer as an +exception, appeared in a much ruder form in the earlier editions of the +"Pilgrims of the Rhine," to which it served as a Preface. I recast, and, +indeed, re-wrote it for the last edition of that work, from which (with slight +corrections, and the omission of the verses which connected the poem with the +tale by which it was first accompanied) it is now reprinted.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_216" id="Footnote_A_216"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_216"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> "Comus."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_217" id="Footnote_B_217"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_217"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> "Gulliver's Travels."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_218" id="Footnote_C_218"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_218"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> Plut. in "Vit. Cim."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_219" id="Footnote_A_219"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_219"><span class="label">[E]</span></a> "The men respect you, and the women love you."—Such was the subtle +compliment paid by Prior to one equally ambitious of either distinction; viz. +Henry St. John, Lord Bolingbroke.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_220" id="Footnote_B_220"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_220"><span class="label">[F]</span></a> Epicurean.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_221" id="Footnote_A_221"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_221"><span class="label">[G]</span></a> The celebrated comparison between Sculpture and the Ancient Painting +and the Modern Dramatic Poetry, is not applicable to Euripides, who has a +warmth and colour of passion which few, indeed, of the moderns have surpassed, +and from which most of the modern writers have mediately, if not +directly, borrowed their most animated conceptions.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_222" id="Footnote_B_222"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_222"><span class="label">[H]</span></a> Among the taunting accusations which Aristophanes, in his Comedy of +the Frogs, lavishes upon Euripides, through the medium of Æschylus, is that +of having introduced female love upon the stage! Æschylus, indeed, is made, +very inconsistently, considering his Clytemnestra (Ran. 1. 1042) to declare +that he does not know that <i>he</i> ever represented a single woman in love. At a +previous period of the comedy, Euripides is also ridiculed, through a boast +ironically assigned to his own lips, for having debased Tragedy by the introduction +of domestic interest—(household things, οικεΐα πράγματα). Upon +these and similar charges have later critics, partly in England, especially in +Germany, sought by duller diatribes to perpetuate a spirit of depreciation +against the only ancient tragic poet who has vitally influenced the later stage. +The true merit of Euripides is seen in the very ridicule of Aristophanes.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_223" id="Footnote_A_223"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_223"><span class="label">[I]</span></a> "Wise Sophocles, wiser Euripides, wisest of all, Socrates," was the well-known +decision of the Delphian Oracle. Yet the wisdom of Euripides was not +in the philosophical sentences with which he often mars the true philosophy +of the drama. His wisdom is his pathos.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_224" id="Footnote_B_224"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_224"><span class="label">[J]</span></a> Gibbon, after a powerful sketch of the fraud, the corruption, and the vices +of George the Cappadocian, thus concludes:—"The odious stranger, disguising +every circumstance of time and place, assumed the mask of a martyr, a saint, +and a Christian hero; and the infamous George of Cappadocia has been transformed +into the renowned St. George of England, the patron of arms, of +chivalry, and the garter."—<i>Gibbon's Decline and Fall</i>, vol. iv. c. xxiii.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_225" id="Footnote_C_225"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_225"><span class="label">[K]</span></a> +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Italian Beauty! didst thou not inspire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Raphael, who died in thy embrace?"—<span class="smcap">Byron.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_226" id="Footnote_A_226"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_226"><span class="label">[L]</span></a> Thucyd. lib. 1, c. 68-71 (The Speech of the Corinthians).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_227" id="Footnote_B_227"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_227"><span class="label">[M]</span></a> Herod. lib. 6, c. 120.</p></div> + + + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_228" id="Footnote_A_228"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_228"><span class="label">[N]</span></a> Midsummer's Night Dream.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_229" id="Footnote_B_229"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_229"><span class="label">[O]</span></a> According to a belief in the East, which is associated with one of the +loveliest and most familiar of Oriental superstitions the bird of Paradise is +never seen to rest upon the earth—and its nest is never to be found.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_230" id="Footnote_C_230"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_230"><span class="label">[P]</span></a> It is supposed by many of the commentators on Dante, that in the form +of his lost Beatrice, who guides him in his Vision of Heaven, the poet allegorizes +Religious Faith.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_231" id="Footnote_D_231"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_231"><span class="label">[Q]</span></a> The gloomy Typhon of Egypt assumes many of the mystic attributes of +the Principle of Life which, in the Grecian Apotheosis of the Indian Bacchus, +is represented in so genial a character of exuberant joy and everlasting youth.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_E_232" id="Footnote_E_232"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_232"><span class="label">[R]</span></a> "What Plato thought, and godlike Cato was."—<span class="smcap">Pope.</span></p></div> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 100%;" /> +<h2>FICTION.</h2> + +<h3>STANDARD EDITION OF THE</h3> + +<h4>NOVELS AND ROMANCES OF SIR EDWARD +BULWER LYTTON, BART., M.P.<br /> +<br /> +Uniformly printed in crown 8vo, corrected and revised throughout, with new Prefaces.</h4> + +<p class="center">20 vols. in 10, price £3 3s. cloth extra; or any volumes separately, +in cloth binding, as under:—</p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Book List"> +<tr><th> </th><th><i>s.</i></th><th><i>d.</i></th></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>RIENZI: <span class="smcap">The Last of the Tribunes</span></td><td align='left'>3</td><td align='left'>6</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>PAUL CLIFFORD</td><td align='left'>3</td><td align='left'>6</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>PELHAM: <span class="smcap">or, The Adventures of a Gentleman</span></td><td align='left'>3</td><td align='left'>6</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>EUGENE ARAM. <span class="smcap">A Tale</span></td><td align='left'>3</td><td align='left'>6</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>LAST OF THE BARONS</td><td align='left'>5</td><td align='left'>0</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>LAST DAYS OF POMPEII</td><td align='left'>3</td><td align='left'>6</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>GODOLPHIN</td><td align='left'>3</td><td align='left'>0</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>PILGRIMS OF THE RHINE</td><td align='left'>2</td><td align='left'>6</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>NIGHT AND MORNING</td><td align='left'>4</td><td align='left'>0</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>ERNEST MALTRAVERS</td><td align='left'>3</td><td align='left'>6</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>ALICE; 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These works abound +in illustrations that teach benevolence to the rich, and courage to the poor; they +glow with the love of freedom; they speak a sympathy with all high aspirations, and +all manly struggle; and where, in their more tragic portraitures, they depict the +dread images of guilt and woe, they so clear our judgment by profound analysis, while +they move our hearts by terror or compassion, that we learn to detect and stifle in +ourselves the evil thought which we see gradually unfolding itself into the guilty deed."—<i>Extract +from Bulwer Lytton and his Works.</i></p></div> + +<p>The above are printed on superior paper, bound in cloth. 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B. DISRAELI'S NOVELS.</h4> + +<p class="center"><b>In fcap 8vo, price 1s. 6d. each, boards.</b><br /> + +THE YOUNG DUKE.<br /> +TANCRED.<br /> +VENETIA.<br /> +CONTARINI FLEMING.<br /> +CONIGSBY.<br /> +SYBIL.<br /> +ALROY.<br /> +IXION.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><b>In fcap 8vo, price 2s. each, boards.</b><br /> + +HENRIETTA TEMPLE.<br /> +VIVIAN GREY.<br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"We commend Messrs. 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Other than that, the original text has been presented as such +in this HTML version.</p> +</div></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Poetical Works of Sir Edward +Bulwer Lytton, Bart. M.P., by Edward Bulwer Lytton + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE POETICAL WORKS OF SIR *** + +***** This file should be named 34298-h.htm or 34298-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/2/9/34298/ + +Produced by Brian Foley and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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