The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan In Two Volumes. With a Portrait |
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 | The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan |  |
III. The Capture.
The wild wood rings, the wild wood gleams,
The wild wood laughs with echoes gay;
Thro' its green heart a bright beck streams,
Sparkling like gold in the sun's beams,
But creeping, like a silvern ray,
Where hanging boughs make dim the day.
Hush'd, hot, and Eden-like all seems,
And onward thro' the place of dreams
Eureka Hart doth stray.
The wild wood laughs with echoes gay;
Thro' its green heart a bright beck streams,
Sparkling like gold in the sun's beams,
But creeping, like a silvern ray,
Where hanging boughs make dim the day.
Hush'd, hot, and Eden-like all seems,
And onward thro' the place of dreams
Eureka Hart doth stray.
Strong, broad-awake, and happy-eyed,
With the loose tangled light for guide,
He wanders, and at times doth pass
Thro' open glades of gleaming grass,
With spiderwort and larkspur spread,
And great anemones blood-red;
On every side the forest closes,
The myriad trees are interlaced,
Starr'd with the white magnolia roses,
And by the purple vines embraced.
Beneath on every pathway shine
The fallen needles of the pine;
Around are dusky scented bowers,
Bridged with the glorious lian-flowers.
Above, far up thro' the green trees,
The palm thrusts out its fan of green,
Which softly stirs in a soft breeze,
Far up against the heavenly sheen.
With the loose tangled light for guide,
He wanders, and at times doth pass
Thro' open glades of gleaming grass,
With spiderwort and larkspur spread,
And great anemones blood-red;
On every side the forest closes,
The myriad trees are interlaced,
Starr'd with the white magnolia roses,
And by the purple vines embraced.
Beneath on every pathway shine
The fallen needles of the pine;
Around are dusky scented bowers,
Bridged with the glorious lian-flowers.
Above, far up thro' the green trees,
The palm thrusts out its fan of green,
Which softly stirs in a soft breeze,
Far up against the heavenly sheen.
And all beneath the topmost palm
Is sultry shade and air of balm,
Where, shaded from the burning rays,
Scream choirs of parroquets and jays;
Where in the dusk of dream is heard
The shrill cry of the echo-bird;
And on the grass, as thick as bees,
Run mocking-birds and wood-doves small
Pecking the blood-red strawberries,
And fruits that from the branches fall;
All rising up with gleam and cry,
When the bright snake glides hissing by,
Springs from the grass, and, swift as light,
Slips after the chameleons bright
From bough to bough, and here and there
Pauses and hangs in the green air,
Festoon'd in many a glistening fold,
Like some loose chain of gems and gold.
Is sultry shade and air of balm,
Where, shaded from the burning rays,
Scream choirs of parroquets and jays;
Where in the dusk of dream is heard
The shrill cry of the echo-bird;
And on the grass, as thick as bees,
Run mocking-birds and wood-doves small
Pecking the blood-red strawberries,
And fruits that from the branches fall;
All rising up with gleam and cry,
When the bright snake glides hissing by,
Springs from the grass, and, swift as light,
Slips after the chameleons bright
From bough to bough, and here and there
Pauses and hangs in the green air,
Festoon'd in many a glistening fold,
Like some loose chain of gems and gold.
Smoke from a mortal pipe is blent
With cedar and acacia scent:
Phlegmatically relishing,
Eureka smokes; from every tree
The wood-doves brood, the sun-birds sing,
The forest doth salute its King,
The monarch Man,—but what cares he?
His eyes are dull, his soul in vain
Hears the strange tongues of his domain,
No echo comes to the soft strain
From the dull cavern of his brain.
With cedar and acacia scent:
Phlegmatically relishing,
Eureka smokes; from every tree
The wood-doves brood, the sun-birds sing,
The forest doth salute its King,
The monarch Man,—but what cares he?
His eyes are dull, his soul in vain
Hears the strange tongues of his domain,
No echo comes to the soft strain
From the dull cavern of his brain.
But hark! what quick and sparkling cry
Darts like a fountain to the sky?
How, human voices! strangely clear,
They burst upon the wanderer's ear.
He stops, he listens—hark again,
Wild rippling laughter rises plain!
Darts like a fountain to the sky?
How, human voices! strangely clear,
They burst upon the wanderer's ear.
He stops, he listens—hark again,
Wild rippling laughter rises plain!
O'er his fair face a look of wonder
Is spreading—‘Injins here—by thunder!’
He cocks his gun, and stands to hear,
Sets his white teeth together tight,
Then, silent-footed as the deer,
Creeps to the sound. The branches bright
Thicken around him; with quick flight
The doves and blue-birds gleam away,
Shooting in showers from spray to spray.
A thicket of a thousand blooms,
Green, rose, white, blue, one rainbow glow,
Closes around him; strange perfumes,
Crush'd underfoot in the rich glooms,
Load the rich air as he doth go;
The harmless snakes around him glow
With emerald eyes; lithe arms of vine
Trip him and round his neck entwine,
Bursting against his stained skin
Their grapes of purple glossy-thin.
But still the rippling laughter flows
Before him as he creeps and goes,
Till suddenly, with a strange look,
He crouches down in a green nook,
Crouches and gazes from the bowers,
Curtain'd and cover'd up in flowers.
Is spreading—‘Injins here—by thunder!’
He cocks his gun, and stands to hear,
Sets his white teeth together tight,
Then, silent-footed as the deer,
Creeps to the sound. The branches bright
Thicken around him; with quick flight
The doves and blue-birds gleam away,
Shooting in showers from spray to spray.
A thicket of a thousand blooms,
Green, rose, white, blue, one rainbow glow,
Closes around him; strange perfumes,
Crush'd underfoot in the rich glooms,
Load the rich air as he doth go;
The harmless snakes around him glow
With emerald eyes; lithe arms of vine
Trip him and round his neck entwine,
Bursting against his stained skin
Their grapes of purple glossy-thin.
But still the rippling laughter flows
Before him as he creeps and goes,
Till suddenly, with a strange look,
He crouches down in a green nook,
Crouches and gazes from the bowers,
Curtain'd and cover'd up in flowers.
O, what strange sight before him lies?
Why doth he gaze with sparkling eyes
And beating heart? Deep, bright, and cool,
Before him gleams a crystal pool,
Fed by the beck: and o'er its brim
Festoons of roses mirror'd dim
Hang drooping low on every side;
And glorious moths and dragon-flies
Hover above, and gleaming-eyed
The stingless snake hangs blossom-wise,
In loose folds sleeping. Not on these
Gazes Eureka thro' the trees:
Snake never made such smiles to grace
His still blue eyes and sun-tann'd face,
And never flower, howe'er so fair,
Would fix that face to such a stare.
And yet like gleaming water-snakes
They wind and wanton in the pool.
Above their waists in flickering flakes
The molten sunlight slips and shakes;
Beneath, their gleaming limbs bathe cool.
One floats above with laughter sweet,
And splashes silver with her feet;
One clinging to the drooping boughs
Leans back, and lets her silken hair
Rain backward from her rippling brows,
While on her shoulders dark and bare
Blossoms fall thick and linger there
Nestling and clinging. To the throat
Cover'd, one dark-eyed thing doth float,
Her face a flower, her locks all wet,
Tendrils and leaves around it set;
O sight most strangely beautiful,
Three Indian Naïads in a pool!
Why doth he gaze with sparkling eyes
And beating heart? Deep, bright, and cool,
Before him gleams a crystal pool,
386
Festoons of roses mirror'd dim
Hang drooping low on every side;
And glorious moths and dragon-flies
Hover above, and gleaming-eyed
The stingless snake hangs blossom-wise,
In loose folds sleeping. Not on these
Gazes Eureka thro' the trees:
Snake never made such smiles to grace
His still blue eyes and sun-tann'd face,
And never flower, howe'er so fair,
Would fix that face to such a stare.
And yet like gleaming water-snakes
They wind and wanton in the pool.
Above their waists in flickering flakes
The molten sunlight slips and shakes;
Beneath, their gleaming limbs bathe cool.
One floats above with laughter sweet,
And splashes silver with her feet;
One clinging to the drooping boughs
Leans back, and lets her silken hair
Rain backward from her rippling brows,
While on her shoulders dark and bare
Blossoms fall thick and linger there
Nestling and clinging. To the throat
Cover'd, one dark-eyed thing doth float,
Her face a flower, her locks all wet,
Tendrils and leaves around it set;
O sight most strangely beautiful,
Three Indian Naïads in a pool!
Eureka, be it understood,
Though beaver-born, is flesh and blood,
And what he saw in day's broad gold
Was stranger far a thousand fold,
Than that wild scene bold Tam O'Shanter
In Scotland saw one winter night,
(Ah with the Scottish Bard to canter,
On Pegasus to Fame instanter,
Singing one song so trim and tight!)
He look'd, and look'd, like Tam; like him.
On the most fair of face and limb
Fixing most long his wondering eye;
For I like greater bards should lie,
If I averr'd that all and one
Who sported there beneath the sun,
Were gloriously fair of face;
But they were women of red race,
Clad in the most bewitching dress,
Their own unconscious loveliness;
And tho' their beauty might not be
Perfect and flawless, they were fine,
Bright-eyed, red-lipp'd, made strong and free
In many a cunning curve and line
A sculptor would have deem'd divine.
Not so the rest, who all around
With fierce eyes squatted on the ground,
Nodding approval:—squaws and crones
Clapping their hands with eager groans.
These were the witches, I might say,
Of this new tropic Alloway.
[As for the Devil—even he
Was by the Serpent represented
Swinging asleep from a green tree,—
Reflected, gloriously painted,
In the bright water where the three
Laugh'd and disported merrily.]
Though beaver-born, is flesh and blood,
And what he saw in day's broad gold
Was stranger far a thousand fold,
Than that wild scene bold Tam O'Shanter
In Scotland saw one winter night,
(Ah with the Scottish Bard to canter,
On Pegasus to Fame instanter,
Singing one song so trim and tight!)
He look'd, and look'd, like Tam; like him.
On the most fair of face and limb
Fixing most long his wondering eye;
For I like greater bards should lie,
If I averr'd that all and one
Who sported there beneath the sun,
Were gloriously fair of face;
But they were women of red race,
Clad in the most bewitching dress,
Their own unconscious loveliness;
And tho' their beauty might not be
Perfect and flawless, they were fine,
Bright-eyed, red-lipp'd, made strong and free
In many a cunning curve and line
A sculptor would have deem'd divine.
Not so the rest, who all around
With fierce eyes squatted on the ground,
Nodding approval:—squaws and crones
Clapping their hands with eager groans.
These were the witches, I might say,
Of this new tropic Alloway.
[As for the Devil—even he
Was by the Serpent represented
Swinging asleep from a green tree,—
Reflected, gloriously painted,
In the bright water where the three
Laugh'd and disported merrily.]
But chiefly poor Eureka gazed,
Trembling, dumb-stricken, and amazed,
On the most beautiful of all,
Who standing on the water-side,
A perfect shape queenly and tall
Stood in the sun erect, and dried
Her gleaming body head to feet
In one broad ray of golden heat.
Naked she stood, but her strange sheen
Of beauty clad her like a queen,
And beaming rings of yellow gold
Were round her wrists and ankles roll'd,
And on her skin Eureka scann'd
A symbol bright as of a brand
Held burning in a human hand.
Trembling, dumb-stricken, and amazed,
On the most beautiful of all,
Who standing on the water-side,
A perfect shape queenly and tall
Stood in the sun erect, and dried
Her gleaming body head to feet
In one broad ray of golden heat.
Naked she stood, but her strange sheen
Of beauty clad her like a queen,
And beaming rings of yellow gold
Were round her wrists and ankles roll'd,
And on her skin Eureka scann'd
A symbol bright as of a brand
Held burning in a human hand.
Smiling, she spake in a strange tongue,
And eager laughter round her rung,
While wading out all lustrous-eyed
She sat upon the water-side,
And pelted merrily the rest
With blossoms bright and flowers of jest.
And eager laughter round her rung,
While wading out all lustrous-eyed
She sat upon the water-side,
And pelted merrily the rest
With blossoms bright and flowers of jest.
Ah, little did Eureka guess,
While wondering at her loveliness,
The same fair form had softly crept
And look'd upon him while he slept,
And thought him (him! the man of Maine!
Civilizee with beaver-brain!)
Beauteous, in passion's first wild beam,
Beyond all Indian guess or dream!
While wondering at her loveliness,
The same fair form had softly crept
And look'd upon him while he slept,
And thought him (him! the man of Maine!
Civilizee with beaver-brain!)
Beauteous, in passion's first wild beam,
Beyond all Indian guess or dream!
Eureka Hart, though tempted more
Than e'er was mortal man before,
Did not like Tam O'Shanter break
The charm with mad applause or call;
Too wise for such a boor's mistake,
He held his tongue, observing all;
But while the hunter forward leant,
Sharing the glorious merriment,
He moved a little unaware
The better to behold the sport,
And lo! upon the heavy air
Off went his gun with sharp report,
And while the bullet past his ear
Whizz'd quick, he stagger'd with the shock,
And with one scream distinct and clear
Rose the red women in a flock.
The naked bathers stood and scream'd,
The brown squaws cried, their white teeth gleam'd;
And ere he knew, with startled face
He stagger'd to the open space;
The sharp vines tript him, and, confounded,
He stumbled, grasping still his gun,—
And, by the chattering choir surrounded,
Half dazed, lay lengthways in the sun.
Than e'er was mortal man before,
Did not like Tam O'Shanter break
The charm with mad applause or call;
Too wise for such a boor's mistake,
He held his tongue, observing all;
387
Sharing the glorious merriment,
He moved a little unaware
The better to behold the sport,
And lo! upon the heavy air
Off went his gun with sharp report,
And while the bullet past his ear
Whizz'd quick, he stagger'd with the shock,
And with one scream distinct and clear
Rose the red women in a flock.
The naked bathers stood and scream'd,
The brown squaws cried, their white teeth gleam'd;
And ere he knew, with startled face
He stagger'd to the open space;
The sharp vines tript him, and, confounded,
He stumbled, grasping still his gun,—
And, by the chattering choir surrounded,
Half dazed, lay lengthways in the sun.
As when a clumsy grizzly bear
Breaks on a dove-cot unaware,
As when some snake, unwieldy heap,
Drops from a pine-bough, half asleep,
Plump in the midst of grazing sheep;—
Even so into the women-swarm
Suddenly fell the giant's form!
They leapt, they scream'd, they closed, they scatter'd,
Some fled, some stood, all call'd and chatter'd,
And to the man in his amaze
Innumerable seem'd as jays
And parroquets in the green ways.
Had they been men, despite their throng,
In sooth he had lain still less long;
But somehow in the stars 'twas fated,
He for a space was fascinated!
And ere he knew what he should do,
All round about him swarm'd the crew,
Sharp-eyed, quick-finger'd, and, despite
His struggling, clung around him tight;
Half choked, half smother'd by embraces,
In a wild mist of arms and faces,
He stagger'd up; in vain, in vain!
Hags, squaws, and maidens in a chain
Clung round him, and with quicker speed
Than ye this running rhyme can read,
With tendrils tough as thong of hide,
Torn from the trees on every side,
In spite of all his strength, the band
Had bound the Giant foot and hand.
Breaks on a dove-cot unaware,
As when some snake, unwieldy heap,
Drops from a pine-bough, half asleep,
Plump in the midst of grazing sheep;—
Even so into the women-swarm
Suddenly fell the giant's form!
They leapt, they scream'd, they closed, they scatter'd,
Some fled, some stood, all call'd and chatter'd,
And to the man in his amaze
Innumerable seem'd as jays
And parroquets in the green ways.
Had they been men, despite their throng,
In sooth he had lain still less long;
But somehow in the stars 'twas fated,
He for a space was fascinated!
And ere he knew what he should do,
All round about him swarm'd the crew,
Sharp-eyed, quick-finger'd, and, despite
His struggling, clung around him tight;
Half choked, half smother'd by embraces,
In a wild mist of arms and faces,
He stagger'd up; in vain, in vain!
Hags, squaws, and maidens in a chain
Clung round him, and with quicker speed
Than ye this running rhyme can read,
With tendrils tough as thong of hide,
Torn from the trees on every side,
In spite of all his strength, the band
Had bound the Giant foot and hand.
| The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan | |