 | The Dawn in Britain |  |
Summer is ended: gins now season sad,
When nights increased, and weary is the ground;
And hoar dew lies, all day, on the cold grass;
And falls the flickering leaf. Then Shalum ears,
On crookéd plough-beam leaned, (plough which, in Alban,
His Syrian hands had wrought,) chill-breathing field:
And shoulder two wain-oxen the tree forth.
And lay of Zion this, in his travail, sings!
When nights increased, and weary is the ground;
And hoar dew lies, all day, on the cold grass;
And falls the flickering leaf. Then Shalum ears,
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His Syrian hands had wrought,) chill-breathing field:
And shoulder two wain-oxen the tree forth.
And lay of Zion this, in his travail, sings!
And laid up, is his hope, in heaven; that when
Lent-month's smooth winds shall fill, with tepid showers,
This furrowed glebe, should spring his Briton grain;
And, come to Autumn, yield of corn enough,
That eat the brethren might the blesséd loaf,
In a strange land, of Christ's remembrance, both;
And have, for alms-deed, mongst poor heathen folk.
Lent-month's smooth winds shall fill, with tepid showers,
This furrowed glebe, should spring his Briton grain;
And, come to Autumn, yield of corn enough,
That eat the brethren might the blesséd loaf,
In a strange land, of Christ's remembrance, both;
And have, for alms-deed, mongst poor heathen folk.
Winter long twilight, all by day, in Britain,
With stooping mists, seems to those Syrian brethren.
And, Southing, still, the sun, to a spear's height,
Attains uneath: then seems, in heaven's dim light,
As shrouded corse; whose pale beams shot askance,
Down, on wide-withered field, weak shadows cast.
Then rage out, o'er waste bent, blood-curdling blasts!
Which blow the poplars bare. Silent, from spray,
The small fowl flits, to covert; and all beasts
Go lean and weary, in the empty frost.
With stooping mists, seems to those Syrian brethren.
And, Southing, still, the sun, to a spear's height,
Attains uneath: then seems, in heaven's dim light,
As shrouded corse; whose pale beams shot askance,
Down, on wide-withered field, weak shadows cast.
Then rage out, o'er waste bent, blood-curdling blasts!
Which blow the poplars bare. Silent, from spray,
The small fowl flits, to covert; and all beasts
Go lean and weary, in the empty frost.
Hungry, the outlaws crouch then, in poor hall,
Christ's brethren part to them Duneda's corn,
That rests; nor they have less. Christ's love they teach,
And heavenly light, which shines in their own hearts;
And a New Life, to come, on the wide earth.
Christ's brethren part to them Duneda's corn,
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And heavenly light, which shines in their own hearts;
And a New Life, to come, on the wide earth.
Whilst all, without, lies cold and comfortless,
They pray and heal the sick, in fenny Alban.
And made is whole, now, of long languishment,
The lady Keina, by the hand of Joseph.
She with the holy women, priestess pure,
Converseth, and still, daily, asks, to hear
More, of Christ's Love. Among the noble maids,
Was Keina one that waited on the queen,
Spouse to Duneda, when she came from Erinn.
They pray and heal the sick, in fenny Alban.
And made is whole, now, of long languishment,
The lady Keina, by the hand of Joseph.
She with the holy women, priestess pure,
Converseth, and still, daily, asks, to hear
More, of Christ's Love. Among the noble maids,
Was Keina one that waited on the queen,
Spouse to Duneda, when she came from Erinn.
After the queen, (the white-armed Havisa,)
Fairest, in Isca, was accounted Keina.
Then she, to Flan, nigh kinsman to Duneda,
Being joined, in happy marriage, mother was
Of sons. Sith widowed Keina was, alas!
When leading Flan, in battle, the king's warriors,
He foremost fell. In Keina's desolate house,
Sith was; when each one nighed his manly age,
A pining sickness took him, and increased,
In all his limbs; insomuch, that, ere ended
A full year, he, too, in her arms, deceased!
Fairest, in Isca, was accounted Keina.
Then she, to Flan, nigh kinsman to Duneda,
Being joined, in happy marriage, mother was
Of sons. Sith widowed Keina was, alas!
When leading Flan, in battle, the king's warriors,
He foremost fell. In Keina's desolate house,
Sith was; when each one nighed his manly age,
A pining sickness took him, and increased,
In all his limbs; insomuch, that, ere ended
A full year, he, too, in her arms, deceased!
And yet did her remain, an only son.
Then, Keina, all days, for this last, the sun,
Besought; she, all nights, sought the starry gods:
And as the needy stretch lean palms, for alms,
So she upcast, to heaven, her tear-worn face!
And to soothsayers, sought Keina, and to wise druids.
From whom returning, to her desolate house,
Departed her son's spirit! She, in night-murk,
Then ran forth, frantic, from abodes of men;
Till, last, in wild moor, she fell down, aswoon;
And lay till dawn: when driving, that way, down,
From the hills, their flocks, some herdfolk poor found Keina!
And they her bare in then, as dead, to Isca;
Where languished, longwhile, Keina, in Havisa's bower;
Aye driven in spirit, as one beside her mind.
And for she most, of women, hapless was;
An extreme passion, on her, daily, seized.
Duneda, at Havisa's asking, after this,
Made Keina Brigida's priestess, light-faced goddess.
Healing, from heaven, now, all her harm allays.
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Besought; she, all nights, sought the starry gods:
And as the needy stretch lean palms, for alms,
So she upcast, to heaven, her tear-worn face!
And to soothsayers, sought Keina, and to wise druids.
From whom returning, to her desolate house,
Departed her son's spirit! She, in night-murk,
Then ran forth, frantic, from abodes of men;
Till, last, in wild moor, she fell down, aswoon;
And lay till dawn: when driving, that way, down,
From the hills, their flocks, some herdfolk poor found Keina!
And they her bare in then, as dead, to Isca;
Where languished, longwhile, Keina, in Havisa's bower;
Aye driven in spirit, as one beside her mind.
And for she most, of women, hapless was;
An extreme passion, on her, daily, seized.
Duneda, at Havisa's asking, after this,
Made Keina Brigida's priestess, light-faced goddess.
Healing, from heaven, now, all her harm allays.
Longtime, might, not suffice the wicker hall,
Where the saints dwell. Must, on the Sabbath days,
Britons, that come to hear the strangers' hymns,
Stand oft in mire; when snow, or rain, without.
Whence taking Ithobal thought, with reed and line;
He casts, how of just stone and timber work,
To edify a new hall, of prayer, for Christ.
Where the saints dwell. Must, on the Sabbath days,
Britons, that come to hear the strangers' hymns,
Stand oft in mire; when snow, or rain, without.
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He casts, how of just stone and timber work,
To edify a new hall, of prayer, for Christ.
When, to the people of outlaws, this is known;
Men wend forth, gladly, o'er the frozen mere,
For stones; some other to the mount ascend,
To hew down wood. But, delved the frozen ground,
And steined; and laid, of well-trod clay, up walls,
As that shipmaster showed: (his helpers, Phelles,
Pistos and Alexander,) with keen bills,
He, and hoarse saws, then frames, by just assize,
Roof-tree; and Britons lay, of hurdle-work,
And sedges of the lake, thereon, up, thatch.
All brought now to good point, pargets the house,
Ithobal; and limns, with ochre, and pourtrays,
With cunning hand, in his Phœnician wise,
Ships, stars, eyes, rudders. And that star is Christ,
The ship His Church, whose rudder is the Spirit;
That guides souls, into Truth, through world's dark waves.
But the Eye is token of High God above.
Men wend forth, gladly, o'er the frozen mere,
For stones; some other to the mount ascend,
To hew down wood. But, delved the frozen ground,
And steined; and laid, of well-trod clay, up walls,
As that shipmaster showed: (his helpers, Phelles,
Pistos and Alexander,) with keen bills,
He, and hoarse saws, then frames, by just assize,
Roof-tree; and Britons lay, of hurdle-work,
And sedges of the lake, thereon, up, thatch.
All brought now to good point, pargets the house,
Ithobal; and limns, with ochre, and pourtrays,
With cunning hand, in his Phœnician wise,
Ships, stars, eyes, rudders. And that star is Christ,
The ship His Church, whose rudder is the Spirit;
That guides souls, into Truth, through world's dark waves.
But the Eye is token of High God above.
At length, lo, in her time, returns the stork!
Now is the old year's winter-sorrow past.
Ewes yean, in pinfold, green-grown is the grass;
And every ewe hath twins. Is lenten month,
When early riseth day; with liquid voice,
Of throstles, in the thicks; and swallows flit,
From Britons' eaves, o'er Alban mere, aloft.
Then noised, Caligula was, in Rome, cut-off:
And as shire waves dance to a summer strand,
Was heard the nations' laughter, to far Britain!
Now is the old year's winter-sorrow past.
Ewes yean, in pinfold, green-grown is the grass;
And every ewe hath twins. Is lenten month,
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Of throstles, in the thicks; and swallows flit,
From Britons' eaves, o'er Alban mere, aloft.
Then noised, Caligula was, in Rome, cut-off:
And as shire waves dance to a summer strand,
Was heard the nations' laughter, to far Britain!
Son of Cunobelin, noble Togodumnos,
Returned from Rome: but the Red Prince, Adminius,
Yet fugitive dwells. And fled had that Adminius,
From Britain; where, despised his father's age,
Envying his brethren, the king's royal sons,
He cast supplant them, and their sire depose.
Dwells also, in Rome, Icenian Bericos,
King, whom his folk, (strong nation of East-march,
Of the Isle,) expulsed, and warlike Antethrigus,
Returned from Rome: but the Red Prince, Adminius,
Yet fugitive dwells. And fled had that Adminius,
From Britain; where, despised his father's age,
Envying his brethren, the king's royal sons,
He cast supplant them, and their sire depose.
Dwells also, in Rome, Icenian Bericos,
King, whom his folk, (strong nation of East-march,
Of the Isle,) expulsed, and warlike Antethrigus,
Now had conspired those twain, bewray to Cæsar,
Their foster soil: but, still, did Togodumnos,
Being, that time, in great Rome, frustrate them both;
Who went up, bearing, to Rome's temple-hill,
The gold-rayed vowéd crown, which king Cunobelin
Sent, Lord of Britain, to the Latin gods.
For had those, with their traitorous hands of gold,
So wrought, with greedy senators, that a day
Might not be named, wherein should sit the senate,
To hear cause of Cunobelin's embassage.
Their foster soil: but, still, did Togodumnos,
Being, that time, in great Rome, frustrate them both;
Who went up, bearing, to Rome's temple-hill,
The gold-rayed vowéd crown, which king Cunobelin
Sent, Lord of Britain, to the Latin gods.
For had those, with their traitorous hands of gold,
So wrought, with greedy senators, that a day
Might not be named, wherein should sit the senate,
To hear cause of Cunobelin's embassage.
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But slain, Ire-of-the-gods! Caligula Cæsar;
Parted from Rome, repassed prince Togodumnos
High Alps; left, in his room, Caratacus:
Whom had the king, their father, after sent,
(Ere few days, to the city, arrived that prince,)
Finish Cunobelin's business and prefer,
For Britain's peace, a new request to Cæsar;
That he would send back Britain's fugitives.
Parted from Rome, repassed prince Togodumnos
High Alps; left, in his room, Caratacus:
Whom had the king, their father, after sent,
(Ere few days, to the city, arrived that prince,)
Finish Cunobelin's business and prefer,
For Britain's peace, a new request to Cæsar;
That he would send back Britain's fugitives.
| The Dawn in Britain | |