Gaston de Blondeville, or The court of Henry III Keeping festival in Ardenne, a romance. St. Alban's Abbey, a metrical tale; With some poetical pieces. By Anne Radcliffe ... To which is prefixed: A memoir of the author, with extracts from her journals. In four volumes |
I. |
III,IV. |
Gaston de Blondeville, or The court of Henry III | ||
I. PART I. THE HAZEL TREE.
A SUMMER SONG OF FAIRIE.
Lightly green with springing buds,
The hazel twines her fairy bowers,
In yon dell o'erhung with woods,
Where the brook its music pours.
The hazel twines her fairy bowers,
In yon dell o'erhung with woods,
Where the brook its music pours.
O'er the margin of the stream
Peeps the yellow marygold,
And lilies, where the waters gleam,
Bend their heads so fair and cold.
Peeps the yellow marygold,
And lilies, where the waters gleam,
Bend their heads so fair and cold.
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Know ye why the Elfin-band
Watch beneath the hazel-bough?
'Tis to guard its Magic Wand
And its blossoms, as they blow.
Watch beneath the hazel-bough?
'Tis to guard its Magic Wand
And its blossoms, as they blow.
These, gathered at the mid-day hour,
To mortal eyes their haunts betray;
That has the strange enchanting power
To call up a prophetic Fay.
To mortal eyes their haunts betray;
That has the strange enchanting power
To call up a prophetic Fay.
Be she down among the rills,
In some wild-wood dingle hid;
Or dancing on the moonlight hills—
She must speed, as she is bid.
In some wild-wood dingle hid;
Or dancing on the moonlight hills—
She must speed, as she is bid.
Or sleep she on the mossy bed,
Under the blossom-breathing lime,
That sheds sweet freshness over head—
The freshness of the morning prime;
Under the blossom-breathing lime,
That sheds sweet freshness over head—
The freshness of the morning prime;
Or stray she with old Thames serene
Through osier-tufts and lofty groves,
By royal towers, or cottaged green,
Still must she leave what best she loves—
Through osier-tufts and lofty groves,
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Still must she leave what best she loves—
Leave the thatched cot, where finest spreads
The turf, 'mid every choicest flower,
And the far-branching chestnut sheds
Over the wave its greenest shower.
The turf, 'mid every choicest flower,
And the far-branching chestnut sheds
Over the wave its greenest shower.
Where, silver-streak'd, that polished wave
Glides by with lingering, sweet farewell,
While stately swans their proud necks lave,
And seem to feel some fairy spell.
Glides by with lingering, sweet farewell,
While stately swans their proud necks lave,
And seem to feel some fairy spell.
Then marvel not that Elfins fair
Guard the thin wand and hazel bloom;
Since these can all their haunts lay bare,
By hidden stream, or forest gloom.
Guard the thin wand and hazel bloom;
Since these can all their haunts lay bare,
By hidden stream, or forest gloom.
—Near Windsor's shades there dwelt a youth,
Who fast was bound in Cupid's chain;
But how to try his lady's truth
By mortal means he sought in vain.
Who fast was bound in Cupid's chain;
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By mortal means he sought in vain.
He to a chamber dim withdrew,
Where serpent's skin and head of toad
Hinted of themes he must pursue,
Ere secret would to him be showed.
Where serpent's skin and head of toad
Hinted of themes he must pursue,
Ere secret would to him be showed.
It was a chamber magical,
Where light in partial gleams appeared,
And showed strange shapes upon the wall,
By his own mystic learning reared.
Where light in partial gleams appeared,
And showed strange shapes upon the wall,
By his own mystic learning reared.
Thence to the hazel-copse he went,
When the sun was flaming high;
And there the twining branches rent;
For then no Fay was watching nigh.
When the sun was flaming high;
And there the twining branches rent;
For then no Fay was watching nigh.
Fast asleep in closed flowers,
And all unheard, and all unseen,
Who, that walked these noontide bowers,
Could guess that any Elves had been?—
And all unheard, and all unseen,
Who, that walked these noontide bowers,
Could guess that any Elves had been?—
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Next, to the forest-hills he hied,
To pull the wild thyme's budding bloom,
Fresh from some haunted dingle's side;
For, it must blow where Fairies come.
To pull the wild thyme's budding bloom,
Fresh from some haunted dingle's side;
For, it must blow where Fairies come.
Just such a dingle still is seen,
Hanging upon the Park's high brow,
Deep buried in the shadowy green,
Where tall o'erarching beeches grow.
Hanging upon the Park's high brow,
Deep buried in the shadowy green,
Where tall o'erarching beeches grow.
Here oft the Fairies revel keep,
To bless the Castle's moonlight hours,
And peep, as winds these branches sweep,
At Windsor diadem'd with towers.
To bless the Castle's moonlight hours,
And peep, as winds these branches sweep,
At Windsor diadem'd with towers.
Grass, that crowns a Fairie's throne,
Marygolds—her canopy,
Lilies, for her cradle known,
These he gathered, three and three.
Marygolds—her canopy,
Lilies, for her cradle known,
These he gathered, three and three.
Well prepared with hazel-leaves,
Thus the wondrous charm distill,
Which, laid on an eye, that grieves,
Shows each sprite of grove, or rill.
Thus the wondrous charm distill,
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Shows each sprite of grove, or rill.
“Three hazel-wands peel smooth and white,
Just a twelvemonth old—no more:
Thrice on each wand the full name write
Of the Fay you would implore.
Just a twelvemonth old—no more:
Thrice on each wand the full name write
Of the Fay you would implore.
“Then in earth these wands consign;
In earth, that elfin footsteps tread,
Extract them with well-muttered line,
Unheard of man—by man unread.
In earth, that elfin footsteps tread,
Extract them with well-muttered line,
Unheard of man—by man unread.
“Next, to the North your visage turn,
Invoke her name, with thrice told three,
Be she by forest, mead, or bourne,
Her on your magic glass you'll see.”
Invoke her name, with thrice told three,
Be she by forest, mead, or bourne,
Her on your magic glass you'll see.”
With shaking hand he peeled the wand;
Then would he trace her name, I wot;
Edwy the Love-Fay would command;
But Edwy had her name forgot.
Then would he trace her name, I wot;
Edwy the Love-Fay would command;
But Edwy had her name forgot.
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Full of great flaws to aught but love
Is the memory of a lover;
Now he must watch where Fairies rove,
Or this name he'll ne'er recover.
Is the memory of a lover;
Now he must watch where Fairies rove,
Or this name he'll ne'er recover.
Back o'er the sunny hills he goes
To his green home in Windsor shades,
To draw the charm, that shall expose
The Elfin-Court, when day-light fades.
To his green home in Windsor shades,
To draw the charm, that shall expose
The Elfin-Court, when day-light fades.
Down by good Clewer's winding mead,
And where the silver currents glide,
A plume of elms lifts high it's head,
And casts it's shadow on the tide.
And where the silver currents glide,
A plume of elms lifts high it's head,
And casts it's shadow on the tide.
All dark and still the feathery grove
Sleeps in the streamy light below;
The streamy light with placid love
And hushing murmur seems to flow.
Sleeps in the streamy light below;
The streamy light with placid love
And hushing murmur seems to flow.
There Elves, 'twas said, in ringlets went,
When chimes sang midnight to the land,
If then, on Windsor's battlement,
Tip-toe the full-orbed Moon should stand.
When chimes sang midnight to the land,
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Tip-toe the full-orbed Moon should stand.
Duly distilled the flowery charm,
Thither Edway must repair,
And, that no check the spell might harm,
Ere the sun-set he was there.
Thither Edway must repair,
And, that no check the spell might harm,
Ere the sun-set he was there.
The golden tints of Evening lie
Upon the smoothly-flowing stream,
Tint the old walls and turrets high,
And lower on the wood-tops gleam.
Upon the smoothly-flowing stream,
Tint the old walls and turrets high,
And lower on the wood-tops gleam.
And, slanting o'er the willowed vale,
The blessed Henry's fane enshrined,
It's fretted windows, turrets pale,
And pinnacles far ranged behind.
The blessed Henry's fane enshrined,
It's fretted windows, turrets pale,
And pinnacles far ranged behind.
And now the soothing hour is come,
The star-light hour, when all is still,
Save the far-distant village hum,
And the lone watch-bark from the hill;
The star-light hour, when all is still,
Save the far-distant village hum,
And the lone watch-bark from the hill;
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And wheels which, far-off travelling,
Pass unseen in bowery lane,
Like to the sea-tide murmuring,
Now loud and lost, then loud again.
Pass unseen in bowery lane,
Like to the sea-tide murmuring,
Now loud and lost, then loud again.
He laid the charm upon his eyes,
And looked with desperate courage round;
Alas! no tripping phantoms rise
On the shadowy, Fairie ground.
And looked with desperate courage round;
Alas! no tripping phantoms rise
On the shadowy, Fairie ground.
Patience is a lover's duty!
Here, counting every distant chime,
He exalts his lady's beauty,
In quaint, or pity-moving rhime.
Here, counting every distant chime,
He exalts his lady's beauty,
In quaint, or pity-moving rhime.
Till, in the East, a shadowy light,
Rising behind the Castle-walls,
Gives the dim turrets to his sight,
And in mute watch his spirit thralls.
Rising behind the Castle-walls,
Gives the dim turrets to his sight,
And in mute watch his spirit thralls.
As slow the unseen Moon ascends,
More darkly drawn the towers appear,
Till every doubtful mass expands,
And lives upon the radiant air;
More darkly drawn the towers appear,
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And lives upon the radiant air;
Then, peers she o'er the broad Keep's height,
A spreading curve of light serene;
And, faithful to her loved Midnight,
There, reigns it's pale and pensive Queen.
A spreading curve of light serene;
And, faithful to her loved Midnight,
There, reigns it's pale and pensive Queen.
And touches, with her silver ray,
Terrace and woody steep below
The river's willow-sheltered bay,
And waters quivering as they flow.
Terrace and woody steep below
The river's willow-sheltered bay,
And waters quivering as they flow.
Where'er th' Enchantress points her wand,
Forth from the deep of darkness crowd
Pale glimmering shapes, and silent stand
As waked from Death's unfolding shroud.
Forth from the deep of darkness crowd
Pale glimmering shapes, and silent stand
As waked from Death's unfolding shroud.
The landscape lived, clear spread the lawn
The groves their shadowy tops unfurled,
And airy hills in prospect dawn,
Like vision of another world.
The groves their shadowy tops unfurled,
And airy hills in prospect dawn,
Like vision of another world.
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The chimes sang midnight; Edwy shook,
While by the grove of elm he stood,
And cast a sly and wistful look
Around the turf and o'er the flood.
While by the grove of elm he stood,
And cast a sly and wistful look
Around the turf and o'er the flood.
That wrinkled flood, all silver bright,
No sail of Fairie pinnace showed,
Nor, 'neath the still elm's bowery night,
A glimpse of elfin-pageant glowed.
No sail of Fairie pinnace showed,
Nor, 'neath the still elm's bowery night,
A glimpse of elfin-pageant glowed.
St. George's chimes, with falter sweet,
Like infants, tried their task to say;
But, waked from midnight's slumber meet,
Th' imperfect accents died away.
Like infants, tried their task to say;
But, waked from midnight's slumber meet,
Th' imperfect accents died away.
And soft they sunk to sleep again,
Ere the slow song was duly closed,
As seeming feebly to complain
Of broken rest, e'en while they dozed.
Ere the slow song was duly closed,
As seeming feebly to complain
Of broken rest, e'en while they dozed.
But Fairies met not Edwy's eye;
For, here, alas! no more they rove;
Some urchins of the College nigh
Had surely scared them from the grove;
For, here, alas! no more they rove;
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Had surely scared them from the grove;
Such as the forest-keepers here
Have followed, helter-skelter, round
Hills, woods and dales, for tracking deer;
Till fond Thames bore the wights to ground;
Have followed, helter-skelter, round
Hills, woods and dales, for tracking deer;
Till fond Thames bore the wights to ground;
To Eton ground, where, safe from law,
And praising oft the helping tide,
They peeped, well hid in grass, and saw
The foresters on t'other side!
And praising oft the helping tide,
They peeped, well hid in grass, and saw
The foresters on t'other side!
Such as the May-pole
oft has watched
Doff gown and mount the coach on high;
Such as the tavern-dinner snatched,
The bottle drank and ate the pie,
Doff gown and mount the coach on high;
Such as the tavern-dinner snatched,
The bottle drank and ate the pie,
In fifteen minutes and away!
And, if an oxen-herd they met,
Sprung on their horns, in laughing play,
Then gravely joined the school-room set.
And, if an oxen-herd they met,
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Then gravely joined the school-room set.
Oh! those were happy times, I ween,
The light of Morning o'er the sky—
That touches all the varied scene
With life-full gleams of hope and joy.
The light of Morning o'er the sky—
That touches all the varied scene
With life-full gleams of hope and joy.
The angered fairies, in revenge,
Still, the tale goes, “their tyrants flout;”
Plunge them in scrapes and mischief strange,
Then leave them to a flogging-bout!
Still, the tale goes, “their tyrants flout;”
Plunge them in scrapes and mischief strange,
Then leave them to a flogging-bout!
But oft good Robin proves their friend,
And lays his bandage on the eyes
Of the grave Heads, who mildly blend
Remembrance with severe surmise.
And lays his bandage on the eyes
Of the grave Heads, who mildly blend
Remembrance with severe surmise.
And now, in more removed ground,
Up in the high Park's ancient shade,
On the grey forest's lonely bound,
These fairies dance in secret glade;
Up in the high Park's ancient shade,
On the grey forest's lonely bound,
These fairies dance in secret glade;
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Where oaks Plantagenet still frown,
Great Edward's tree e'en each appears,
A warlike ruin, gaunt and lone,
The spectre of five hundred years.
Great Edward's tree e'en each appears,
A warlike ruin, gaunt and lone,
The spectre of five hundred years.
Nursed by long centuries gone by,
Reared in the storms, that wrecked their kings,
Oh! could they give the Past a sigh,
And speak the tale of vanished things,
Reared in the storms, that wrecked their kings,
Oh! could they give the Past a sigh,
And speak the tale of vanished things,
The peopled scenes they have beheld,
In long succession, varied guise,
More wonders here had stood revealed,
Than aught, that Fairie dream supplies.
In long succession, varied guise,
More wonders here had stood revealed,
Than aught, that Fairie dream supplies.
Thus Edwy, with a face of rue,
Returned home for future feat;
Thus he, who does adventure woo,
Must sometimes disappointment meet.
Returned home for future feat;
Thus he, who does adventure woo,
Must sometimes disappointment meet.
Gaston de Blondeville, or The court of Henry III | ||