The Dawn in Britain by Charles M. Doughty |
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 | The Dawn in Britain |  |
Issued, like lamp, from wild wood of the skies,
Now moon outshines; and cast great forest stems,
Whose crooked boughs rock on this frozen wind,
Swart shadows; and weep oft their snowy crests,
Down on sheen hulver thicket boughs, beneath.
Caradoc them deems, who now, night-dreamer walks,
With darkened mood, shafts, harnessed Roman soldiers:
And wind-gusts, piping loud, blow like an horn!
Now moon outshines; and cast great forest stems,
Whose crooked boughs rock on this frozen wind,
Swart shadows; and weep oft their snowy crests,
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Caradoc them deems, who now, night-dreamer walks,
With darkened mood, shafts, harnessed Roman soldiers:
And wind-gusts, piping loud, blow like an horn!
Like ureox, then, he rushed; and rang dark forest,
With battle-shout of great Caratacus!
With that Rome-quelling brand, which ere of Brennus,
He slays, (alas, for ruth!) the rinded trees.
Romans him-thought those stedfast timber-ranks;
Him-seemed his hands smote tribunes and centurions.
With battle-shout of great Caratacus!
With that Rome-quelling brand, which ere of Brennus,
He slays, (alas, for ruth!) the rinded trees.
Romans him-thought those stedfast timber-ranks;
Him-seemed his hands smote tribunes and centurions.
Last stumbling Caradoc forth, on some gnarled root;
(So that strong vertue, of drowsy herbs, now wrought;
Which Nessa steeped, in hall, in the king's mead;)
Wallowed in snow, the warsire slumbers fast.
Rest hero, sleep, under these starry gods!
(So that strong vertue, of drowsy herbs, now wrought;
Which Nessa steeped, in hall, in the king's mead;)
Wallowed in snow, the warsire slumbers fast.
Rest hero, sleep, under these starry gods!
Like to some swart vast fowl, how silent Night,
(As Day she covered, with her dusky wings,)
Broods o'er dim sullen round, of earth and woods!
It night of the moon-measurer of the year,
Is, wherein Belisama, eyebright goddess,
Girded in kirtle blue, with woodwives sheen,
Wont to fare forth; and her shield-maidens' train,
And loud hounds, in the forest-skies above.
(As Day she covered, with her dusky wings,)
Broods o'er dim sullen round, of earth and woods!
It night of the moon-measurer of the year,
Is, wherein Belisama, eyebright goddess,
Girded in kirtle blue, with woodwives sheen,
Wont to fare forth; and her shield-maidens' train,
And loud hounds, in the forest-skies above.
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She, Caradoc seeing, stays her aery wain:
And, marvelling! in cloud-cliff, her divine team
She bound: so lights this faery queen, benign,
(Like her sire Belin,) to the kin of men.
She goddess, leaning on her spear-staff, wakes
In this his loneness, in cold midnight grove,
Over the hero's sleep: and, in herself,
Quoth; what is blind, brief, discourse of man's life,
But as a spark, out of eternal Night;
That shines as gledeworm, in the world, a moment:
Or glairy path of snail, which in the sun,
Glisters an hour; the next, of dew or rain,
Is molten. Like to hart, of a great horn,
Fallen in some hunter's pit, lies here king Caradoc,
Man best beloved, mongst Britons, of all gods!
Yet is, of mortal wights, an old said saw;
Is worth no weal, who may no woe endure.
And, marvelling! in cloud-cliff, her divine team
She bound: so lights this faery queen, benign,
(Like her sire Belin,) to the kin of men.
She goddess, leaning on her spear-staff, wakes
In this his loneness, in cold midnight grove,
Over the hero's sleep: and, in herself,
Quoth; what is blind, brief, discourse of man's life,
But as a spark, out of eternal Night;
That shines as gledeworm, in the world, a moment:
Or glairy path of snail, which in the sun,
Glisters an hour; the next, of dew or rain,
Is molten. Like to hart, of a great horn,
Fallen in some hunter's pit, lies here king Caradoc,
Man best beloved, mongst Britons, of all gods!
Yet is, of mortal wights, an old said saw;
Is worth no weal, who may no woe endure.
Sith, with her shield-brim, she traced round him, sleeping,
A circuit; wherein enter, him to hurt,
Might sprite, nor wight, nor beast, nor element!
A circuit; wherein enter, him to hurt,
Might sprite, nor wight, nor beast, nor element!
In his dead slumber, dreams the glory of Britain,
He sees Hell's brazen kingdom open wide,
Land of the sunless dead, derne plain beneath,
Full all of dread inextricable paths;
Whereo'er, for light of day, hangs fiery mist.
There journey trains of spirits, whose cold graved joints
Lapped some in clay; some lie in foundered ships,
Other cast under thorny brakes and moss;
With creeping things, which suffer cold and wet:
He sees then glorious Thorolf go to land!
He sees Hell's brazen kingdom open wide,
Land of the sunless dead, derne plain beneath,
Full all of dread inextricable paths;
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There journey trains of spirits, whose cold graved joints
Lapped some in clay; some lie in foundered ships,
Other cast under thorny brakes and moss;
With creeping things, which suffer cold and wet:
He sees then glorious Thorolf go to land!
But day-star risen, passed Belisama forth.
Then cometh soon up the tardy sun, above
These Winter woods, like targe of glistering brass;
And grows glad morning light, from part to part.
Like to a pair of scales, thus chant pale druids,
In giant palm of world-sustaining god,
Is Day and Night. What hour Day riseth forth,
Descends the baleful Night behind his back.
Then cometh soon up the tardy sun, above
These Winter woods, like targe of glistering brass;
And grows glad morning light, from part to part.
Like to a pair of scales, thus chant pale druids,
In giant palm of world-sustaining god,
Is Day and Night. What hour Day riseth forth,
Descends the baleful Night behind his back.
| The Dawn in Britain | |