Canto the First. The Haunted Mountain.
1. Amo fears to ascend the Mountain—Tára-wéra. 2. A tree-girt
niche. 3. The Mountain. 4. Morning and songsters. 5. The
Lake.
I.
“Shall we run into the cloudlet, love, so luminous and white
That is crouching up in sunshine there on yonder lofty height?
We could step out of the splendour all at once into the mist—
Such a sunny snowy bower where a maiden might be kissed!
From the woody lower terrace we could climb the russet steep
O'er that chasm gorged with tree-tops still in shadow dewy-deep,
Where another slip of vapour, see! against the purple black,
Set on fire by the sunbeam which has caught it there alone,
Like a warrior-chief inciting his adherents to attack,
Has upreared itself upright with one imperious arm outthrown!
Up that slope so smooth and ruddy we could clamber to the crags
To the jutting rim of granite where the crouching cloudlet lags:
In and out the bright suffusion up above there in the skies,
I would follow my fleet darling by the flashing of her eyes,
O'er that lofty level summit, as they vanished vapour-veiled,
Or would glitter out rekindling and then glance away to seek,
Like swift meteors seen a moment, for some other silver streak—
Now bedimmed and now bedazzling till each dodge and double failed,
And I caught her—O would clasp her! such delicious vengeance wreak
On those eyes—the glad, the grand ones! on that laughter-dimpled cheek,
Till with merciless caresses the fine damask flushed and paled,
And half-quenched in burning kisses those bewitching lustres quailed!”
“Nay, but Rano, my adored one—O my heart and soul's delight!
Scarce with all your love to lead me—fold me round from all affright—
Would I dare ascend that Mountain! woody cleft and fissure brown
Are so thick with evil spirits—it has such a dread renown!
Such a hideous Lizard-Monster in its gloomy shades it screens,
That as rugged as the rocks are, winds along the close ravines—
E'en asleep lies with them sinuous like a worm in twisted shell—
And has eaten up more people in old days than I can tell!
Would you go and wake that Taniwha! O not at least to-day:
Look how lovely calm the Lake is!—'twill be sweeter far to stray
In the blue hot brilliant noon-tide to each secret shadowy bay,
And afloat on liquid crystal pass the happy time away!”—
II.
So he, who when he had his will,
For pleasure always went up hill,
So Ranolf spoke; and so replied
His wildwood bride, the diamond-eyed,
When morning's beam began to burn,
Up-springing from their couch of fern
By charming Tára-wéra's side.
A little plot of smooth green grass—
By tapering trees thick-set and tall
Beneath grey rocks that rose o'er all,
Shut in behind—a verdurous wall
Circling that lawny flat so small
Down to the very water's edge,
That spread in front its liquid glass;—
Not far from where, 'mid reed and sedge,
The warm Mahana's rapid tide,
A mile-long stream scarce six feet wide,
Comes rushing through the open pass—
As seeks a hot and fevered child
Its Mother's bosom cool and mild—
To Tára-wéra's ample Lake;
This shallow niche, tree-girt and green,
With nought its still sweet charm to break,
The lovers' lonely bower had been.
III.
In sunshine stretching lightly o'er
The Lake's far end from shore to shore,
Long stripes of gauze-like awning lay—
In stripes serene and white as they,
Re-imaged on its bright blue floor.
And many a rocky rugged bluff,
With crimson-blossoming boscage rough
O'er beetling crest and crevice flung,—
White cliff or dark-green hill afar
With patches bleached of scarp and scar—
Stood boldly forward sunrise-fired,
Or back in sun-filled mist retired.
Untrembling, round the glistening rim
Of that expanse of blooming blue,
From headland bright or inlet's brim,
Long fringes of reflection hung.
Its ramparts stretched along the sky,
One mighty Mountain reared on high
Far o'er the rest a level crest,
With jutting rounded parapet
And rude rock-corbels rough-beset,
Half-blurred by time and tempest's fret;
While smooth its slopes came sweeping down
From that abraded cornice brown.
The mountain this, the ruddy steep,
That Ranolf, sun-awaked from sleep,
So longed to scale; and high in air
In glad imagination share
Its sky-possessing majesty
Of haughty isolation!—there
Into each dark recess to pry
And every sight and secret see
Its lofty level might reveal,
Or those grim fissures' depths conceal,
That split the Mountain into three.
IV.
About the heights, soft clouds a few,
Clung here and there like floating flue;
Like helpless sea-birds breeze-bereft,
Unmoving spread their pinions white—
From jutting crag, deep-bathed in light,
To slip away in snowy flight;
Or closely crouched in shadowy cleft,
Like lambing ewes the flock has left.
Below, o'erjoyed at darkness fleeing,
Reviving Nature woke again
To all the exceeding bliss of being!
The minnows leapt the liquid plain
In shoals—each silvery-shivering train,
A sudden dash of sprinkled rain!
The wild-duck's black and tiny fleet
Shot in-and-out their shy retreat;
The cormorant left his crowded tree
And stretched his tinselled neck for sea;
All Nature's feathered favourites poured
To their adored undoubted Lord
Of light and heat, accordance sweet
Of pure impassioned revelry;
And honey-bird and mocking-bird
And he of clearest melody,
The blossom-loving bell-bird,—each
Delicious-throated devotee
In happy ignorance framed to be
Content with rapture—longing-free
For life or love they cannot reach—
Like chimes rich-tuned, to heaven preferred
The praise of their mellifluous glee!
Each lurking lyrist of the grove
With all his might sung all his love;
Till every foliage-filled ravine
And bower of amaranthine green
Rang persevering ecstasy!
V.
With free elastic hearts that shone
In joy as fresh as morning's own—
Each seated in a light canoe
The kind Lake-villagers supplied—
Amo's the lighter—gayer too,
With snowy tufts of feathers tied
In rows along each ruddy side,—
The pair went paddling, fancy-led;
For here no wond'rous sights of dread
Or beauty lurked to guide their quest
As at Mahana—nothing strange,
Or out of Nature's wonted range.
Yet Ranolf marked with lively zest
What charms the changeful scene possest:
The billowy-tumbling hills—the crags—
The smooth green slopes fern-carpeted;
Low cliffs with feathery foliage graced;
Rock-palisades emerging pale
And grey; and precipices faced
With head-stones—close-set armour-scale
Of gothic-pointed bristling flags;
Flat islets crowned with wood—cliff-bound;
And lake-side bowers and canopies;
And caves and grottoes within these!
And lichened rocks that singly stand
Detached from green umbrageous land,
Mere pedestals for single trees;
Or, jutting out with jagged arms
All plumed and fair with greenery, bear
Into the Lake the forest's charms;
And with the bank that proudly swells,
A wooded wall without a strand,
Make niches, nooks, and liquid cells,
With interlacing boughs o'erspanned.
