The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan In Two Volumes. With a Portrait |
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Thro' the Wood. |
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 | The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan |  |
IV. Thro' the Wood.
Through the gleaming forest closes,
Where on white magnolia-roses
Light the dim-draped queen reposes,
Lo, they lead the captive Giant.
Where on white magnolia-roses
Light the dim-draped queen reposes,
Lo, they lead the captive Giant.
Shrieking shrill as jays around him,
They have led him, they have bound him,
With a wreath of vine-leaves crown'd him,
Which he weareth, half defiant.
They have led him, they have bound him,
With a wreath of vine-leaves crown'd him,
Which he weareth, half defiant.
If their ears could hear him swearing!
Of his oaths he is not sparing,
While, with hands sharp-claw'd for tearing.
Hags and beldams burn to rend him.
Of his oaths he is not sparing,
While, with hands sharp-claw'd for tearing.
Hags and beldams burn to rend him.
If the younger, prettier creatures
Heard that tallest of beseechers,
While he pleads with frantic features!
But they do not comprehend him.
Heard that tallest of beseechers,
While he pleads with frantic features!
But they do not comprehend him.
In their Indian tongue they're crying,
From the forest multiplying,
Mocking, murmuring, leaping, flying,
While he shouts out, ‘D—the women!’
From the forest multiplying,
Mocking, murmuring, leaping, flying,
While he shouts out, ‘D—the women!’
All his mighty strength is nothing:
Like a ship, despite his loathing,
Mid these women scant of clothing
He is tossing, struggling, screaming.
Like a ship, despite his loathing,
Mid these women scant of clothing
He is tossing, struggling, screaming.
Crown'd like Bacchus on he passes,
O'er deep runlets, through great grasses,
While [like flies around molasses]
Fair and foul are round him humming!
O'er deep runlets, through great grasses,
While [like flies around molasses]
Fair and foul are round him humming!
Half a day they westward wander,
Stopping not to rest or ponder;
Then the forest ends; and yonder
Wild dogs bark to hear them coming.
Stopping not to rest or ponder;
Then the forest ends; and yonder
Wild dogs bark to hear them coming.
Cluster'd in an open clearing
Stand the wigwams they are nearing,
Bark the dogs, a strange foot fearing,
Low the cattle,—straight before them.
Stand the wigwams they are nearing,
Bark the dogs, a strange foot fearing,
Low the cattle,—straight before them.
Out into the sunlight leaping,
There they see the wigwams sleeping,
With a blue smoke upward creeping,
And the burning azure o'er them!
There they see the wigwams sleeping,
With a blue smoke upward creeping,
And the burning azure o'er them!
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All is still, save for the screaming
Children from the wigwams streaming,
All is still and sweet to seeming,
Not a man's face forward thrusting.
Children from the wigwams streaming,
All is still and sweet to seeming,
Not a man's face forward thrusting.
Thinks Eureka, ‘This looks stranger—
Ne'er a man—then double danger;
Many a year I've been a ranger,—
Woman's mercy put no trust in!’
Ne'er a man—then double danger;
Many a year I've been a ranger,—
Woman's mercy put no trust in!’
As he speaks in trepidation,
All his heart in palpitation,
He is fill'd with admiration
At a vision wonder-laden.
All his heart in palpitation,
He is fill'd with admiration
At a vision wonder-laden.
From the largest wigwam, slowly,
While the women-band bow lowly,
Comes an old man white and holy,
Guided gently by a maiden!
While the women-band bow lowly,
Comes an old man white and holy,
Guided gently by a maiden!
| The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan | |