 | Young Arthur |  |
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SUBJECT X.
Vanity of Hope.—Perplexity of Love.—A Stranger.— Banquet of Friendship.—The Minstrel's Warning.
There's a flower that wakes when the day's begun
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Expanding its leaves to the rising sun;
Its beauties they live in the genial light,
But its calyx is clos'd at the grey of night.
Expanding its leaves to the rising sun;
Its beauties they live in the genial light,
But its calyx is clos'd at the grey of night.
There's a gay fly born at the sun's first gleam,
And it wantons with life in the golden beam;
Its tiny date is one sportive day,
And its death the decline of the solar ray.
And it wantons with life in the golden beam;
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And its death the decline of the solar ray.
There's a flower in form like the orb of light,
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And ever it turns to that radiant sight;
But when the sun to the west has sped
Eastward it turns with a drooping head.
And ever it turns to that radiant sight;
But when the sun to the west has sped
Eastward it turns with a drooping head.
There's a trembling brilliancy dances the wall,
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Which the fancy of infancy tries to stay:
But it whisks away like the bandied ball,
If withdrawn whatever reflects the ray.
Which the fancy of infancy tries to stay:
But it whisks away like the bandied ball,
If withdrawn whatever reflects the ray.
Emblems of life and joy are these,
And human hope is the solar beam;
And when that heavenly ray shall cease
'Tis death to joy, and all life's a dream.
And human hope is the solar beam;
And when that heavenly ray shall cease
'Tis death to joy, and all life's a dream.
Hope in Sir Brandon's heart arose,
And joy to lighten his heart began;
The union he wish'd hope urg'd would close
The sorrows which rack'd the repentant man;
And joy to lighten his heart began;
The union he wish'd hope urg'd would close
The sorrows which rack'd the repentant man;
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For Ernest had won Sir Brandon's heart,
And he deem'd him match for his daughter sweet;
To win his purpose employ'd each art
For a knight, and a friend, and a father meet.
And he deem'd him match for his daughter sweet;
To win his purpose employ'd each art
For a knight, and a friend, and a father meet.
But Ernest and Isabel felt one love;
While Edith and Allan their love was one;
And Sir Brandon's joy may those emblems prove,
His hope but a brief diurnal sun.
While Edith and Allan their love was one;
And Sir Brandon's joy may those emblems prove,
His hope but a brief diurnal sun.
O, there is a bower of woodbines sweet
Near a grove where the nightingales sing;
That bow'r was Edith's lov'd retreat,
And there on her lute, at the noon-tide heat,
To love would she tune the string.
Near a grove where the nightingales sing;
That bow'r was Edith's lov'd retreat,
And there on her lute, at the noon-tide heat,
To love would she tune the string.
For seldom Sir Brandon that grove he sought,
Or that blooming bower pass'd by;
But it chanc'd on a day that his wandering brought
The knight to the spot, and his charm'd ear caught
The soothing of melody.
Or that blooming bower pass'd by;
But it chanc'd on a day that his wandering brought
The knight to the spot, and his charm'd ear caught
The soothing of melody.
The lute he heard and the tasteful art
That wak'd the strain he knew;
And her heavenly voice, which could ever impart
A charm to his ear that entranc'd his heart,
His rapt attention drew.
That wak'd the strain he knew;
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A charm to his ear that entranc'd his heart,
His rapt attention drew.
But there was a deep and a harsher tone,
Which, after, join'd her lay;
A voice he never before had known,—
She singing of love and not alone,
Ah, what do his dark looks say?
Which, after, join'd her lay;
A voice he never before had known,—
She singing of love and not alone,
Ah, what do his dark looks say?
He listen'd 'til love's fond lay was o'er,
When Edith pronounc'd a name—
He heard the name, and he heard no more,
But sprung with fury the bower before,
And his eye wore frenzy's flame.
When Edith pronounc'd a name—
He heard the name, and he heard no more,
But sprung with fury the bower before,
And his eye wore frenzy's flame.
For Allan he saw, “draw! draw!” he cried;
And Edith was at his knee;
But he dash'd the trembling maid aside,
And on Allan he rush'd, with a mad-man's stride,
But Allan prepar'd was he.
And Edith was at his knee;
But he dash'd the trembling maid aside,
And on Allan he rush'd, with a mad-man's stride,
But Allan prepar'd was he.
And Allan he parried the thrust with care,
And the raging knight disarm'd;
His sword return'd with submissive air,
And pardon for Edith implor'd with a pray'r
Which check'd, but, alas! ne'er charm'd.
And the raging knight disarm'd;
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And pardon for Edith implor'd with a pray'r
Which check'd, but, alas! ne'er charm'd.
And Allan is banish'd from Brandon Hall,
While Edith is lost in grief;
The eye of Sir Brandon, suffus'd with gall,
Look'd round with the frowning of pride on all,
Save Ernest, his sole relief.
While Edith is lost in grief;
The eye of Sir Brandon, suffus'd with gall,
Look'd round with the frowning of pride on all,
Save Ernest, his sole relief.
A TRAVELLER.
The mirky mantle of night is on,
And a traveller o'er the heath is gone;
That heath is drear at the noon of day,
And the traveller tracks a devious way;
List'ning and stepping with cautious fear;
The blast howls loud in the traveller's ear,
The light'ning darts, and the thunders roll;
First murmuring, as lingering at the pole,
Then rumbling follows th' electric flash;
Then clattering comes with appalling peal,
As if all the Heavens, time's date to seal,
Were falling to earth with according crash.
Cold dews the traveller's limbs o'erspread,
Who tremblingly steps with doubt and dread—
That flash, like the gleaming of reason's ray
Which gives to the maniac a moment's day,
A moment's day but to ken the cost
Of the light for ever in darkness lost;
Which gives him a terrible gleam to see,
How horrid that darkness, how hapless he!—
That flash shews the traveller, now, by its glare,
Enfolded in wrappings which shroud the form;
But whether a man or a woman is there
No eye can distinguish—now through the storm
Heaven guard thee, traveller, on thy way,
And guide thee o'er the heath,
To where some “taper's cheering ray”
And friendly door may invite thy stay,
From danger; haply, death.
Adieu!—and, traveller, thou art gone—
Perchance we'll meet again, anon.
Sir Brandon wandering o'er his wide domain,
Resolve engendering in his anxious brain;
Ernest and Edith all his mind's employ,
A specious hope the sun-beam of his joy;
Beneath a hedge-row found a wearied man,
A woe-worn peasant, who a pray'r began
For pity; want his haggard looks betray,
Beneath the hedge exhausted as he lay;
'Twas early morning, and the plenteous dew
Dropp'd from the white thorn on the fainting hind,
As if the thorn his want and wasting knew,
And o'er him wept; for Nature, ever kind,
Alone seems mov'd by one maternal plan,
To charm and cherish her own offspring, man;
Seems, by her blooming and her treasures given,
To prove her graceful gratitude to heaven
For his blest state, for whom she blooms and bears,
And for whose profit all her produce spares;
Prompted, when fading, by parental care,
(Fearful for him and anxious to prepare
His mind for future) she a glass presents,
The end depicting of all time's events;
Stronger reflection can no glass create,
But man reflects not, or reflects too late.
And a traveller o'er the heath is gone;
That heath is drear at the noon of day,
And the traveller tracks a devious way;
List'ning and stepping with cautious fear;
The blast howls loud in the traveller's ear,
The light'ning darts, and the thunders roll;
First murmuring, as lingering at the pole,
Then rumbling follows th' electric flash;
Then clattering comes with appalling peal,
As if all the Heavens, time's date to seal,
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Cold dews the traveller's limbs o'erspread,
Who tremblingly steps with doubt and dread—
That flash, like the gleaming of reason's ray
Which gives to the maniac a moment's day,
A moment's day but to ken the cost
Of the light for ever in darkness lost;
Which gives him a terrible gleam to see,
How horrid that darkness, how hapless he!—
That flash shews the traveller, now, by its glare,
Enfolded in wrappings which shroud the form;
But whether a man or a woman is there
No eye can distinguish—now through the storm
Heaven guard thee, traveller, on thy way,
And guide thee o'er the heath,
To where some “taper's cheering ray”
And friendly door may invite thy stay,
From danger; haply, death.
Adieu!—and, traveller, thou art gone—
Perchance we'll meet again, anon.
Sir Brandon wandering o'er his wide domain,
Resolve engendering in his anxious brain;
Ernest and Edith all his mind's employ,
A specious hope the sun-beam of his joy;
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A woe-worn peasant, who a pray'r began
For pity; want his haggard looks betray,
Beneath the hedge exhausted as he lay;
'Twas early morning, and the plenteous dew
Dropp'd from the white thorn on the fainting hind,
As if the thorn his want and wasting knew,
And o'er him wept; for Nature, ever kind,
Alone seems mov'd by one maternal plan,
To charm and cherish her own offspring, man;
Seems, by her blooming and her treasures given,
To prove her graceful gratitude to heaven
For his blest state, for whom she blooms and bears,
And for whose profit all her produce spares;
Prompted, when fading, by parental care,
(Fearful for him and anxious to prepare
His mind for future) she a glass presents,
The end depicting of all time's events;
Stronger reflection can no glass create,
But man reflects not, or reflects too late.
The knight, tho' stern, was ever prompt to spare;
The hind he pitied and receiv'd his pray'r;
The fainting man, to Brandon Hall remov'd,
A liberal bounty and protection prov'd;
Restor'd to vigour, and in dress new dight,
The grateful peasant sought the generous knight;
Sir Ernest met him as the hall he cross'd,
And stood transfix'd, in trembling wonder lost;
Hubert (the peasant he) too, trembling stood,
Rapt in amazement; then a bursting flood
Of tears pour'd forth; and, to his Sire restor'd,
A father's blessing the young knight implor'd.
The hind he pitied and receiv'd his pray'r;
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A liberal bounty and protection prov'd;
Restor'd to vigour, and in dress new dight,
The grateful peasant sought the generous knight;
Sir Ernest met him as the hall he cross'd,
And stood transfix'd, in trembling wonder lost;
Hubert (the peasant he) too, trembling stood,
Rapt in amazement; then a bursting flood
Of tears pour'd forth; and, to his Sire restor'd,
A father's blessing the young knight implor'd.
“Father,” he cried, “a truant son forgive,
“His crime attoning who will henceforth live.”
“Arthur!” the hind, his struggling heart beat high;
“O, truant Arthur! why from Hubert fly?
“Thy mother's life declining is the cost”—
Here words in nature's extacy were lost;
Nor Ernest's splendour nor his tow'ring crest
Aw'd him who caught and clasp'd him to his breast.
“His crime attoning who will henceforth live.”
“Arthur!” the hind, his struggling heart beat high;
“O, truant Arthur! why from Hubert fly?
“Thy mother's life declining is the cost”—
Here words in nature's extacy were lost;
Nor Ernest's splendour nor his tow'ring crest
Aw'd him who caught and clasp'd him to his breast.
“Father” and “son” reciprocally giv'n,
Their souls seem'd wrapt in a sweet trance of heaven;
Sir Brandon enter'd, wondering at the view,
Quick to the knight the happy Ernest flew,
Proclaim'd his father, and Sir Brandon blest
The step that led him to the man distrest;
All on all parts explain'd; their faces share
One look of joy; in Brandon's cross'd by care;
The high Sir Brandon, who, his transport done,
Survey'd Sir Ernest as a peasant's son;
No more the long wish'd match his hope beguil'd,
“A peasant's offspring wed Sir Brandon's child!”—
Allan, for thee now darts a gleam of grace;
But hapless Allan was expell'd the place.
Ernest, the sole prevention to remove
To Edith's liberty and Allan's love,
Purpos'd to Brandon to avow his heart,
And prove his claim, from prudence, to depart;
The danger urge the parting hour delay'd,
Urge his pledg'd honour to the Iberian maid;
With grateful thanks Sir Brandon's bounty pay,
Then seek the scene of happy boyhood's day.
Thus firmly purpos'd to the knight he flies,
Within whose breast new agitations rise.
“Ernest a peasant's son!” exclaim'd the knight
In deep soliloquy “of menial race,
Yet beams his mind the absolute of grace,
By fame recorded, and unmatch'd in fight;
A full career of glory has he run,
And rais'd to rank; but yet—a peasant's son!
A peasant's son? and shall the Brandon blood,
Flowing for ages in a noble flood,
Blend with plebeian stream? and I the base
To raise the fountain of our line's disgrace?
Around my mansion, by the painter's art,
Hang chiefs of yore, who in the canvass live;
Each eye-ball flashing from an hero's heart,
While quarter'd blaz'nings each proud lineage give;
These can I face and fancy not convey
Reproach from all that, reckless of their fame,
I threw a gem of dignity away,
Sprung from their blood, and blended with their name?
Wake, Brandon, wake, nor let a fitful love
Urge to a deed ne'er honor can approve;
A fitful love for one who, dear to fame,
Twines round thine heart, all dignity but name;
And yet thou once had'st wed (had Suffolk smil'd)
One without name yet, hold—tho' love beguil'd
Thine heart, and thou hadst wed; the male bestows
Honour, ennobling tho' he lowly chose:
Not so the female, countless is the cost,
Her blood, her honour, and her name are lost.”
Their souls seem'd wrapt in a sweet trance of heaven;
Sir Brandon enter'd, wondering at the view,
Quick to the knight the happy Ernest flew,
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The step that led him to the man distrest;
All on all parts explain'd; their faces share
One look of joy; in Brandon's cross'd by care;
The high Sir Brandon, who, his transport done,
Survey'd Sir Ernest as a peasant's son;
No more the long wish'd match his hope beguil'd,
“A peasant's offspring wed Sir Brandon's child!”—
Allan, for thee now darts a gleam of grace;
But hapless Allan was expell'd the place.
Ernest, the sole prevention to remove
To Edith's liberty and Allan's love,
Purpos'd to Brandon to avow his heart,
And prove his claim, from prudence, to depart;
The danger urge the parting hour delay'd,
Urge his pledg'd honour to the Iberian maid;
With grateful thanks Sir Brandon's bounty pay,
Then seek the scene of happy boyhood's day.
Thus firmly purpos'd to the knight he flies,
Within whose breast new agitations rise.
“Ernest a peasant's son!” exclaim'd the knight
In deep soliloquy “of menial race,
Yet beams his mind the absolute of grace,
By fame recorded, and unmatch'd in fight;
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And rais'd to rank; but yet—a peasant's son!
A peasant's son? and shall the Brandon blood,
Flowing for ages in a noble flood,
Blend with plebeian stream? and I the base
To raise the fountain of our line's disgrace?
Around my mansion, by the painter's art,
Hang chiefs of yore, who in the canvass live;
Each eye-ball flashing from an hero's heart,
While quarter'd blaz'nings each proud lineage give;
These can I face and fancy not convey
Reproach from all that, reckless of their fame,
I threw a gem of dignity away,
Sprung from their blood, and blended with their name?
Wake, Brandon, wake, nor let a fitful love
Urge to a deed ne'er honor can approve;
A fitful love for one who, dear to fame,
Twines round thine heart, all dignity but name;
And yet thou once had'st wed (had Suffolk smil'd)
One without name yet, hold—tho' love beguil'd
Thine heart, and thou hadst wed; the male bestows
Honour, ennobling tho' he lowly chose:
Not so the female, countless is the cost,
Her blood, her honour, and her name are lost.”
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Thus reason'd he when Ernest he beheld,
That sight the conflict of his bosom quell'd;
Ernest he saw, and saw his looks confess'd
Some cause of moment lab'ring in his breast;
The smile inviting confidence inclin'd,
And lur'd young Ernest to disclose his mind:
With graceful modesty, and grateful phrase,
The youth his reasoning and resolve conveys;
His sire to join and seek the lonely gate
Where pining grief and love maternal wait:
Repentant sighs assisted him to tell
(While o'er his cheek ingenuous blushes stole)
The manly narrative: and all his soul
Glow'd with the acmé, Love and Isabel!
That sight the conflict of his bosom quell'd;
Ernest he saw, and saw his looks confess'd
Some cause of moment lab'ring in his breast;
The smile inviting confidence inclin'd,
And lur'd young Ernest to disclose his mind:
With graceful modesty, and grateful phrase,
The youth his reasoning and resolve conveys;
His sire to join and seek the lonely gate
Where pining grief and love maternal wait:
Repentant sighs assisted him to tell
(While o'er his cheek ingenuous blushes stole)
The manly narrative: and all his soul
Glow'd with the acmé, Love and Isabel!
Contending spirits in Sir Brandon strove,
Pride urg'd his will, tho' all his wish was love:
Fast round his heart the gallant youth had twin'd,
And pride as firmly interlac'd his mind.
Pride urg'd his will, tho' all his wish was love:
Fast round his heart the gallant youth had twin'd,
And pride as firmly interlac'd his mind.
Ernest and Edith's nuptials urg'd his art,
His hope sublim'd; the solace of his heart;
Fix'd in resolve, the deed in fancy done,
Is barr'd for ever by—the peasant's son—
Pride triumph'd here; and when the tale he heard
Which to his Edith Isabel preferr'd,
A moment's sunshine o'er his fancy gleam'd,
And his stern eye with transient radiance beam'd;
For now his promise of fair Edith's hand
Honour must cancel, and its breach command;
But learning Ernest's purpose to depart,
Then triumph'd love in Brandon's yearning heart:
With Ernest part? ah! could the youth be spar'd?
The only being who his friendship shar'd;
Edith he lov'd, but as a daughter lov'd,
Who all his fondness, not his friendship, prov'd;
Too young for confidence; and woman's breast
He deem'd no shrine where secrecy might rest.
Ernest depart? a conflict here began,
Again he seems an isolated man;
All saw the gloom upon his dark brow borne,
All saw his sternness, stigmatiz'd as scorn;
All saw a soul that seem'd in self to end,
And none affected, as none felt, the friend.
His hope sublim'd; the solace of his heart;
Fix'd in resolve, the deed in fancy done,
Is barr'd for ever by—the peasant's son—
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Which to his Edith Isabel preferr'd,
A moment's sunshine o'er his fancy gleam'd,
And his stern eye with transient radiance beam'd;
For now his promise of fair Edith's hand
Honour must cancel, and its breach command;
But learning Ernest's purpose to depart,
Then triumph'd love in Brandon's yearning heart:
With Ernest part? ah! could the youth be spar'd?
The only being who his friendship shar'd;
Edith he lov'd, but as a daughter lov'd,
Who all his fondness, not his friendship, prov'd;
Too young for confidence; and woman's breast
He deem'd no shrine where secrecy might rest.
Ernest depart? a conflict here began,
Again he seems an isolated man;
All saw the gloom upon his dark brow borne,
All saw his sternness, stigmatiz'd as scorn;
All saw a soul that seem'd in self to end,
And none affected, as none felt, the friend.
And Allan is banish'd, and wanders forlorn;
Fair Edith the frown of her father has borne;
To that frown unaccustom'd, how rankling the smart
Which surcharg'd her bright eye and subdued her fond heart!
And, remote where no echo could mock her sweet tongue,
She tun'd her soft lute, and of sorrow she sung.
Fair Edith the frown of her father has borne;
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Which surcharg'd her bright eye and subdued her fond heart!
And, remote where no echo could mock her sweet tongue,
She tun'd her soft lute, and of sorrow she sung.
LOST PEACE.
O, came ye o'er the barren moor,
Or down the mossy mountain;
O, came ye by yon rosy bow'r,
Or yonder sparkling fountain?
Or, came you by the greenwood shade,
And rove you whence or whither;
And did you see a wand'ring maid?
O, haste and call her hither.
Or down the mossy mountain;
O, came ye by yon rosy bow'r,
Or yonder sparkling fountain?
Or, came you by the greenwood shade,
And rove you whence or whither;
And did you see a wand'ring maid?
O, haste and call her hither.
O, by her lovely eyes of blue,
Whose beams so artless shew her;
O, by her cheeks of amaranth hue
And heavenly smile you'll know her:
What sweeter than her name can be?
'Tis Peace—she's gone ah! whither?
And if you pity feel for me,
O, haste and call her hither!
And Allan, forbidden, he wander'd the waste,
Whose beams so artless shew her;
O, by her cheeks of amaranth hue
And heavenly smile you'll know her:
What sweeter than her name can be?
'Tis Peace—she's gone ah! whither?
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O, haste and call her hither!
The path to the grave of old Simon he trac'd;
Reclin'd on the turf, and abandon'd to grief,
He in plaintive soliloquy sought for relief.
PLAINT.
The turf is o'er thy head,
Ah! thou who sleep'st below,
I press thy grassy bed,
The orphan child of woe.
Subdued by grief, my steps I bend
Where rests my boyhood's only friend.
Ah! thou who sleep'st below,
I press thy grassy bed,
The orphan child of woe.
Subdued by grief, my steps I bend
Where rests my boyhood's only friend.
The turf is o'er thy head,
Unheard must I complain;
And peaceful is thy bed
But pillow'd mine by pain;
All, all my pleasure found an end
With thee, my boyhood's only friend.
Unheard must I complain;
And peaceful is thy bed
But pillow'd mine by pain;
All, all my pleasure found an end
With thee, my boyhood's only friend.
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While Allan wailing lay,
A linnet on a spray
Was sweetly singing;
But deaf was Allan's ear
To what could charm or cheer;
And dead the flowers appear
Around him springing.
A linnet on a spray
Was sweetly singing;
But deaf was Allan's ear
To what could charm or cheer;
And dead the flowers appear
Around him springing.
Could not these flowers move
Emotions to reprove
And mock his sorrow?
Like gratitude each gay,
“We grieve not” seem'd to say,
“Though blooming but to-day,
To fade to-morrow.”
Emotions to reprove
And mock his sorrow?
Like gratitude each gay,
“We grieve not” seem'd to say,
“Though blooming but to-day,
To fade to-morrow.”
That warbling linnet's strain
Seem'd saying, “why complain
When I am praising?
Though but the present mine,
The future, mortal, thine;
And can'st thou so repine
Beyond hope's raising?”
Seem'd saying, “why complain
When I am praising?
Though but the present mine,
The future, mortal, thine;
And can'st thou so repine
Beyond hope's raising?”
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Upon a grave-stone by
A verse, which fix'd the eye,
Seem'd grief's denial;
“There is a sorrow, sane,
There is a wailing, vain;
Shall man of care complain,
Since life's a trial?”
A verse, which fix'd the eye,
Seem'd grief's denial;
“There is a sorrow, sane,
There is a wailing, vain;
Shall man of care complain,
Since life's a trial?”
There sat behind that stone,
On weighty griefs, his own,
An old man musing;
Arous'd by Allan's grief,
Pity prompts relief,
His accent bland but brief,—
“Why hope refusing?”
On weighty griefs, his own,
An old man musing;
Arous'd by Allan's grief,
Pity prompts relief,
His accent bland but brief,—
“Why hope refusing?”
His soothings soon prevail,
And Allan told his tale,
Advice entreating;
And from the scene of woe,
Conversing, on they go,
With friendship's kindly glow,
And grace's greeting.
And Allan told his tale,
Advice entreating;
And from the scene of woe,
Conversing, on they go,
With friendship's kindly glow,
And grace's greeting.
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Ingenuous youth, go, read the sacred page
Of care-indited, profitable, age;
There shalt thou trace the sterling lore of truth:
And, age, O, covet converse with the young;
Grace shalt thou gather from the glow of youth,
And more melodious prove to youth thy tongue.
Of care-indited, profitable, age;
There shalt thou trace the sterling lore of truth:
And, age, O, covet converse with the young;
Grace shalt thou gather from the glow of youth,
And more melodious prove to youth thy tongue.
Sweet is the picture when the head of grey
And brow of care are brighten'd by a smile;
The rust and wrinkle vanishing away
Leave a bright, sacred, beaming to beguile;
And youth approaches with enquiring eye,
Inclining ear, and modesty of mien,
Which proof of reverence and love supply;
Grateful the golden oracles to glean.
And brow of care are brighten'd by a smile;
The rust and wrinkle vanishing away
Leave a bright, sacred, beaming to beguile;
And youth approaches with enquiring eye,
Inclining ear, and modesty of mien,
Which proof of reverence and love supply;
Grateful the golden oracles to glean.
Sir Brandon's mind new perturbation mov'd;
The maid he lean'd on and the man he lov'd
Once to unite his prospect and his pride;
That wish (which pride of ancestry denied)
Resum'd its empire with redoubled force
When render'd hopeless by the young knight's course;
Pride felt abash'd; the struggle was severe:
Ernest depart? affection triumph'd here;
Ernest depart, when, leaving Brandon gates,
Departing friendship on his footstep waits?
Just his departure from a mansion where
His presence but accumulated care:
Just his departure, sorrow to remove
From home abandon'd and maternal love;
Just his departure, every reasoning tried
Of nature, love, necessity, or pride.
The maid he lean'd on and the man he lov'd
Once to unite his prospect and his pride;
That wish (which pride of ancestry denied)
Resum'd its empire with redoubled force
When render'd hopeless by the young knight's course;
Pride felt abash'd; the struggle was severe:
Ernest depart? affection triumph'd here;
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Departing friendship on his footstep waits?
Just his departure from a mansion where
His presence but accumulated care:
Just his departure, sorrow to remove
From home abandon'd and maternal love;
Just his departure, every reasoning tried
Of nature, love, necessity, or pride.
The day is fix'd, Sir Brandon at the thought,
Resum'd the sternness ancient sorrows brought;
Polite to Ernest, portly to the rest,
Save her who, slighted, warm'd alone his breast;
Save her deem'd injur'd, now ordain'd to prove
Redoubled fondness from returning love.
Resum'd the sternness ancient sorrows brought;
Polite to Ernest, portly to the rest,
Save her who, slighted, warm'd alone his breast;
Save her deem'd injur'd, now ordain'd to prove
Redoubled fondness from returning love.
The day is fix'd, the banquet they prepare;
Ernest must Brandon's parting bounty share;
All are invited of respect and name,
All who might notice from Sir Brandon claim.
Ernest must Brandon's parting bounty share;
All are invited of respect and name,
All who might notice from Sir Brandon claim.
The day arrives; Sir Brandon's brow of care
Essays the smile of gallantry to wear;
A specious sunshine, ill assum'd the part,
Joy in his eye, but anguish in his heart.
Essays the smile of gallantry to wear;
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Joy in his eye, but anguish in his heart.
The day arrives, and all, invited, there;
The guests enraptur'd and the banquet rare;
In all the blaze of dignified attire,
To grace her seat, and gratify her sire,
Eclipsing all the splendour she display'd
By looks angelic, sat the blooming maid;
The graceful Edith, all her father's pride,
Beaming she sat in radiance by his side.
So by some darkling cloud you may behold
The sun more bright from the contrasted gloom;
While its reflected rays with blended gold
Give the dense cloud false splendour to assume.
The smiling guests, in honour to the day,
A blaze of grandeur gorgeously display:
Close by the knight the musing Ernest plac'd
Was mark'd by modesty and manly taste;
With simple fancy decorated o'er,
His knighthood's badge and ruby cross he wore;
And by Sir Ernest, at his host's desire,
Attir'd as seeming, sat the peasant sire;
Hubert, his father, as Sir Ernest thought,
As all he told, and all the accent caught;
While Hubert brooding, and abash'd, receiv'd
Warm 'gratulations for the tale believ'd:
For such a son, an honour known to few,
A son whose sire not even Hubert knew.
The guests enraptur'd and the banquet rare;
In all the blaze of dignified attire,
To grace her seat, and gratify her sire,
Eclipsing all the splendour she display'd
By looks angelic, sat the blooming maid;
The graceful Edith, all her father's pride,
Beaming she sat in radiance by his side.
So by some darkling cloud you may behold
The sun more bright from the contrasted gloom;
While its reflected rays with blended gold
Give the dense cloud false splendour to assume.
The smiling guests, in honour to the day,
A blaze of grandeur gorgeously display:
Close by the knight the musing Ernest plac'd
Was mark'd by modesty and manly taste;
With simple fancy decorated o'er,
His knighthood's badge and ruby cross he wore;
And by Sir Ernest, at his host's desire,
Attir'd as seeming, sat the peasant sire;
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As all he told, and all the accent caught;
While Hubert brooding, and abash'd, receiv'd
Warm 'gratulations for the tale believ'd:
For such a son, an honour known to few,
A son whose sire not even Hubert knew.
Where strays the gazings of the blushing youth?
To where sits beauty, loveliness and truth;
To Edith?—no; to one whose fame might tell
Her Edith's rival, blooming Isabel:
For high Sir Brandon, chivalrous of soul,
Deem'd no regrets at parting should controul
The “gallant bearing” of a knight; this mov'd
The maid to welcome whom young Ernest lov'd;
Tho' pride might sicken at the galling sight
Of her who triumph'd in his hope's despite:
Hence beauteous Isabel, with splendour chaste,
Plac'd by fair Edith, the glad circle grac'd;
And there the Matron whose maternal heart
Foster'd fair Isabel possess'd a part;
And there too Allan; Allan? where was he?
I' th' welcome garb of wandering minstrelsy;
Allan, and that old man; 'twas he the heath
Who cross'd 'mid storm, while fear presag'd his death;
But heaven a safegard to his footsteps gave,
And led to Allan at old Simon's grave;
A minstrel he; retain'd at Brandon Hall
To aid the pleasures of the festival.
By his wise counsel, Allan (who the string
Could wake with cunning, and with science sing)
With manner feign'd, false beard, and alter'd look,
The harper's habit and his calling took;
And when he sung—alas! she knew not why,
The tear stood trembling in lov'd Edith's eye;
He sung of love condemn'd with woe to cope,
His ballad's burthen “constancy and hope;”
Oft as he sung, his brow Sir Brandon bent,
Pain'd by past scenes, then soften'd to content;
Abstracting thought the scene before him shrouds—
He sat as sits a man when watching clouds;
A cumb'rous giant of dark shade who sees,
Stretch'd all his length at an enormous ease;
While groupes of shadowy rocks come rolling on,
And crush the monster 'neath the unreal stone;
That giant Brandon, cares those thickening rocks,
Which, ever threat'ning, still prepar'd new shocks.
With all a “master's hand” and “prophet's fire,”
The aged minstrel hastens to inspire
Their glowing hearts with strains that care confound,
Soul in the sense, and magic in the sound;
His eyes were fire of glory when he sung,
The vaulted roof with bursting plaudits rung;
He sung of love; then languish'd every eye,
The tear half started, and half heav'd the sigh;
The minstrel sigh'd—then, with an awful look,
The chords he thunder'd, while his weak frame shook,
And thus he sung—
To where sits beauty, loveliness and truth;
To Edith?—no; to one whose fame might tell
Her Edith's rival, blooming Isabel:
For high Sir Brandon, chivalrous of soul,
Deem'd no regrets at parting should controul
The “gallant bearing” of a knight; this mov'd
The maid to welcome whom young Ernest lov'd;
Tho' pride might sicken at the galling sight
Of her who triumph'd in his hope's despite:
Hence beauteous Isabel, with splendour chaste,
Plac'd by fair Edith, the glad circle grac'd;
And there the Matron whose maternal heart
Foster'd fair Isabel possess'd a part;
And there too Allan; Allan? where was he?
I' th' welcome garb of wandering minstrelsy;
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Who cross'd 'mid storm, while fear presag'd his death;
But heaven a safegard to his footsteps gave,
And led to Allan at old Simon's grave;
A minstrel he; retain'd at Brandon Hall
To aid the pleasures of the festival.
By his wise counsel, Allan (who the string
Could wake with cunning, and with science sing)
With manner feign'd, false beard, and alter'd look,
The harper's habit and his calling took;
And when he sung—alas! she knew not why,
The tear stood trembling in lov'd Edith's eye;
He sung of love condemn'd with woe to cope,
His ballad's burthen “constancy and hope;”
Oft as he sung, his brow Sir Brandon bent,
Pain'd by past scenes, then soften'd to content;
Abstracting thought the scene before him shrouds—
He sat as sits a man when watching clouds;
A cumb'rous giant of dark shade who sees,
Stretch'd all his length at an enormous ease;
While groupes of shadowy rocks come rolling on,
And crush the monster 'neath the unreal stone;
That giant Brandon, cares those thickening rocks,
Which, ever threat'ning, still prepar'd new shocks.
295
The aged minstrel hastens to inspire
Their glowing hearts with strains that care confound,
Soul in the sense, and magic in the sound;
His eyes were fire of glory when he sung,
The vaulted roof with bursting plaudits rung;
He sung of love; then languish'd every eye,
The tear half started, and half heav'd the sigh;
The minstrel sigh'd—then, with an awful look,
The chords he thunder'd, while his weak frame shook,
And thus he sung—
THE MINSTREL'S WARNING.
Where is the faith of honour fled?
Where has love made a lowly bed?
Where triumph spread for peace the toil,
And fed and fatten'd on the spoil.
Where has love made a lowly bed?
Where triumph spread for peace the toil,
And fed and fatten'd on the spoil.
Where grew the lily of the vale?
Where now the nightshade taints the gale;
Where was the rose of beauty born?
Where now all's blasted but the thorn.
Where now the nightshade taints the gale;
Where was the rose of beauty born?
Where now all's blasted but the thorn.
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Where is the vow deceit has sworn?
To heaven on sweeping whirlwinds borne;
To heaven 'tis borne, recorded there,
Dread to the traitor, and despair!
To heaven on sweeping whirlwinds borne;
To heaven 'tis borne, recorded there,
Dread to the traitor, and despair!
The sun of innocence shone bright!
'Tis where? for ever set in night,
And yet the blasting cloud rides high
Which veil'd that sun in honour's sky.
'Tis where? for ever set in night,
And yet the blasting cloud rides high
Which veil'd that sun in honour's sky.
“Where is the lamb the poor man rear'd,
Which in his bosom lay?
Alas, the rich man, stern and sear'd,
Has torn that lamb away!”
Which in his bosom lay?
Alas, the rich man, stern and sear'd,
Has torn that lamb away!”
And thou, proud knight, who, bent on me,
My purpose seem'st to scan,
Thine shall the prophet's answer be—
“Thou art, thou art the man!”
My purpose seem'st to scan,
Thine shall the prophet's answer be—
“Thou art, thou art the man!”
| Young Arthur | |