 | Duganne's Poetical Works |  |
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BARONIAL TIMES.
1. PART I.—BARONS OF THE PAST.
IN the old baronial times,
When the feudal lords bore sway,
There were high and low, and friend and foe,
As there are in this our day;
There were shrines and fanes, and swords and chains,
Young maids, and old men gray!
And the barons kept high state,
In their ancient castle halls—
And the warders stout watched well without,
Lest foes should scale the walls;
And down far deep, in the donjon-keep,
Were chain'd the barons' thralls.
When the feudal lords bore sway,
There were high and low, and friend and foe,
As there are in this our day;
There were shrines and fanes, and swords and chains,
Young maids, and old men gray!
And the barons kept high state,
In their ancient castle halls—
And the warders stout watched well without,
Lest foes should scale the walls;
And down far deep, in the donjon-keep,
Were chain'd the barons' thralls.
And whenever these barons bold
Would swell their golden hoards,
They summoned their men from hill and glen,
And bared their bright broad-swords;
And the trumpet brayed, and the war-horse neighed,
And the minstrel swept his chords.
And the barons bold rode forth,
And the fray was fierce and long;
For with deadly blows they smote their foes,
And stormed their castles strong—
They sacked and killed, and their coffers filled,—
But the deed (men say) was wrong.
Would swell their golden hoards,
They summoned their men from hill and glen,
And bared their bright broad-swords;
And the trumpet brayed, and the war-horse neighed,
And the minstrel swept his chords.
And the barons bold rode forth,
And the fray was fierce and long;
For with deadly blows they smote their foes,
And stormed their castles strong—
They sacked and killed, and their coffers filled,—
But the deed (men say) was wrong.
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And whenever these barons bold
Would add to their lands a rood,
They grappled the brand, with a red right hand,
And seized whatever they would—
And none said nay, for the strong bore sway,
And the Evil ruled the Good.
And these barons bold waxed great,
Till the feeble feared their might:
They lived like kings, and the bard still sings
Of their deeds in feast and fight;
But to burn and steal, and to sack and kill,
Can never (men say) be right.
Would add to their lands a rood,
They grappled the brand, with a red right hand,
And seized whatever they would—
And none said nay, for the strong bore sway,
And the Evil ruled the Good.
And these barons bold waxed great,
Till the feeble feared their might:
They lived like kings, and the bard still sings
Of their deeds in feast and fight;
But to burn and steal, and to sack and kill,
Can never (men say) be right.
2. PART II.—BARONS OF THE PRESENT.
In the new baronial times,
The barons have doffed their arms—
And the shield is dust, and the spear is rust,
And the sword no more alarms;
And the trumpet-peal and the flash of steel
Have lost their olden charms.
But the barons still bear sway—
In a lordly state they dwell;
They have slaves enow, right well I trow,
And rule with a mighty spell;
And for bright red gold, men's lives untold
These barons buy and sell.
And whenever these barons proud
Would swell their golden store,
They write with a pen in the blood of men,
And the human heart they score:
They shroud the soul with a parchment scroll,
And crush men's hopes with ore.
And the widow's cruse they grasp,
And the orphan's crust of bread—
The blind man's staff they seize, with a laugh,
And the pauper's wretched bed;
Like vampyres they prey on the living clay,
And like ghouls devour the dead.
And acres of goodly land,
And houses of chiselled stone,
Brave ships of the sea, and forests free,—
They gather them, one by one:
The Law is their shield, and the World their field,
And their sword is Gold alone.
The barons have doffed their arms—
And the shield is dust, and the spear is rust,
And the sword no more alarms;
And the trumpet-peal and the flash of steel
Have lost their olden charms.
But the barons still bear sway—
In a lordly state they dwell;
They have slaves enow, right well I trow,
And rule with a mighty spell;
And for bright red gold, men's lives untold
These barons buy and sell.
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Would swell their golden store,
They write with a pen in the blood of men,
And the human heart they score:
They shroud the soul with a parchment scroll,
And crush men's hopes with ore.
And the widow's cruse they grasp,
And the orphan's crust of bread—
The blind man's staff they seize, with a laugh,
And the pauper's wretched bed;
Like vampyres they prey on the living clay,
And like ghouls devour the dead.
And acres of goodly land,
And houses of chiselled stone,
Brave ships of the sea, and forests free,—
They gather them, one by one:
The Law is their shield, and the World their field,
And their sword is Gold alone.
Now, tell me the noblest men!—
The barons who lived of old—
The wild, proud lords, with their crimson swords,
And their deeds so fierce and bold,—
Or the barons who ride o'er men's hearts in pride,
The barons whose swords are gold!
The barons who lived of old—
The wild, proud lords, with their crimson swords,
And their deeds so fierce and bold,—
Or the barons who ride o'er men's hearts in pride,
The barons whose swords are gold!
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