Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Sole and lonely lived the maid
Unattended, unafraid,
Good nor evil there she knew
Only clouds, or winds that blew
Wiling to her silken snare
Little birds that sung in air,
Laughing low their joy to see
When her fingers set them free,
Idly with the lambs she played
Or beside the Laber strayed,
Like its waves her childhood ran
Knowing naught of God or man.
Past nor future dared to stir
In her heart a sweet demur,
Past or future she had none,
There she lived from sun to sun,
Lonely daughter of a king
Into woman blossoming,
Oh Genossa!

On a heifer white and bold,
Gay with shining horns of gold,

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Through the forest ways she rode.
Down its neck her tresses flowed
Black as coils of glittering jet,
And her soft eyes, darker yet,
Shone amid the cloudy hair
Blowing round her forehead fair.
Red as blood her mantle rolled
To the greensward, fold on fold,
On her brow for diadem
Sparkled neither gold or gem,
But a blood-red wreath of bloom,
Roses in her ringlets' gloom,
Fair she rode beneath the trees
As a dream the sleeper sees.
Oh Genossa!

Suddenly, one morn of May,
Wondrous visions barred her way;
Lo! a swart and glossy bull,
Short of horn, with forehead full,
Wrinkled front, and eye of flame,
Toward her like a tempest came;
But across the level path,
Pawing in restraint and wrath,
Curving neck and bristled mane,
Show the check of curb and rein;
Swift she sees a splendid gleam,
Gilded armor, blue eyes' beam,
Haughty visage bended low,
Helmet set on brow of snow;

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Ah! her heart is half afraid,
Fear assails the fearless maid.
Oh Genossa!

Softer than a south-wind's sigh,
Gentler than a wood-dove's cry,
Sweeter than the cherubim
Quiring loud their angel hymn,
Falls the voice those proud lips parting;
Into soul and spirit darting
Wilder thrills than death could give,
Thrills that bid the woman live.
Never-more, ah never more,
Shall she stray by wood or shore,
Dreamless, aimless, tranquil, calm,
Stately as a tropic palm,
Undisturbed by hope or prayer,
Innocent as bird in air.
Peace hath left her maiden bosom,
For the bee hath found the blossom.
Oh Genossa!

Day by day, and day by day
In the fragrant woodland way
Met the damsel and the stranger,
Thoughtless she of harm or danger,
Sunshine brimmed the tender sky,
All the birds sung joyously,
Languid odors filled the air,
Summer brooded everywhere,

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And the hoof-beats as they rode
Like a rhythmic legend flowed.
‘Love is sweet, love is sweet,
Sweeter, sweetest;’ beat on beat.
Ever to the throbbing rhyme
All her pulses keeping time
Rapture drowning soul and sense,
Bliss beyond all innocence,
Till, alas! one dewy day
On the bull she rode away,
And the heifer homeward strayed,
Lowing loudly for the maid.
Oh Genossa!

All in vain her kin pursue;
Swifter yet the black bull flew,
Vainly on the gray sea-sands
Rozan's monarch wrings his hands,
Dashing through the wild blue water
Vanisheth his spell-bound daughter.
Silver horns and bloodshot eyes
O'er the dancing billows rise,
And the black bull's hide of jet
With the ocean's spray is wet.
But Genossa closely clings
And the knight about her flings
Closer still his stalwart arm;
Yet he holds with deeper charm.
Thought of dread nor dream of harm
Doth her maiden soul alarm,

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Strength nor fear the work had done,
Love hath conquered! love hath won!
Ah Genossa!

Now in Morgane's fairy cave
Safe they hear the foemen rave,
High above the pale rocks glow
Bluer than the sea below,
Azure, azure everywhere,
Like the vaults of upper air.
And beneath the azure sea
Laps the walls eternally.
Loud she cried in sudden woe,
“Hark! my mother calls below,
From the narrow house of wood
Where she sleeps in solitude.

“'Tis but waves whose lifting shock
Sobs within the rifted rock.”

“Listen, Spountus! Hark! she speaks.”

“What vain word the death-sleep breaks?”

“Daughter! give not flesh and soul
Lawless, unto man's control,
Let the priest with book and bell
Marry thee, if all be well.”

“So, sweet, shall the rite be sped
Honored be the holy dead.”

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Suddenly a little isle,
From the darkness seemed to smile,
Blazing tapers, altar high
Rich with scarlet blazonry,
Mitred priest, and choristers
With whose chant the blue air stirs.
Knight and maiden hand in hand
Swiftly at the altar stand,
And her finger offering
To the priest, she wears the ring.
Ring of fire! in agony
Through the cavern peals a cry:
White and wild she turns to fly.
And a voice laughs scornfully
Ah Genossa!

On and on like dreams of ill,
Ever down an endless hill,
Fainting heart and stumbling feet,
Hurried bride, and bridegroom fleet,
Onward, downward, still they go,
Heralded by shrieks of woe.

“Hist! I hear both wail and weeping!”
“Tis the miners, night-shift keeping.”

“Spountus! down the rock appears,
Drop on drop, like streaming tears.”

“Tis the springs of earth, my bride,
Down the dripping stones they glide.”

330

“Ah my lord! my love, my soul,
How the air burns! like a coal.”

“Aye, the fires are rising fast.
Fires that heat the whirling blast,
Godless maiden! life is past.
Earth for thee no more shall shine,
Heaven withdraws its gleam divine,
This is Hell!—and thou art mine.
Lost Genossa!”