England :: :: University of Virginia Library

------ We will not stay:
The bay trees in our country all are dead,
And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven;
The pale-fac'd moon looks bloody on the earth,
And lean-look'd prophets whisper fearful change:
Rich men look sad, and ruffians dance and leap.
—Shakspeare.

What horrors haunt the track of civil strife!
Each cottage, shining in its silent dell,
Hath lost some shape belov'd, some honor'd life:
Domestic peace is changed into a hell;
Murder and famine in all places dwell.
What now avails the silken garlands wrought
By love and kindred: sons their sires assail!
Truth, justice, honour, virtue, flourish not:
The Tutelary gods have fled from every spot.

The same who, hand in hand, walk'd long ago,
And gather'd flowers to deck each other's hair—
The same who climb'd the welcome mountain's brow,
Or wandered o'er the summer meadows fair,
Contend like hell-hounds at the shout of war:
Oh, when shall men become so pure and good,
To drive this pestilential curse afar?
When, when, shall cease this horrid thirst of blood?
When, when, shall man return unto his ancient mood?

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The ancient mood, ere sorrow dimm'd the sky—
Ere battle's blood-red standard yet was seen—
That golden age, when man was pure and high;
And love and gladness, in their bowers green,
Each rul'd in sovereignty, a titled Queen!
Ere laughter had a jar, or joy a tear;
Ere any blight had mingled with life's scene:
When men were warm, and women had no fear,
And storm and lightnings slept, nor whirlwinds wander'd near.

The charger's fiery hoofs upon the floor
Of palaces, where grandeur dwelt in pride,
Is seen: the war-plume, 'neath the cottage door,
Where snooded beauty walk'd; and, far and wide,
Where nought but peaceful sounds were wont to glide,
Of birds, and winds, and streams, the battle sound
Is heard, and with the tempests doth divide:
Blood stains the flowers that deck the trampled ground,
And voices of affright, and groans are all around.

Red war leapt forth o'er England—it stalk'd out
Among our pastures. Many a warrior died,
Who, o'er the Saracen, had rais'd the shout
Of triumph, slain by one who, at his side,
Had help'd to beat the foeman in his pride—
To make the standard o'er Jerusalem soar:
High souls, for whom no empire was too wide,
Till, join'd, perchance, with dearest kinsman's gore:
War's chaldron was on fire, and the red fumes stream'd o'er.

163

And Famine came and cropp'd the golden corn,
And slew the cattle in their pastures green,
And shut the eyelids of the fruitful morn,
So that the dews and rains were never seen:
Sorrow and desolation rul'd each scene:
Then fell Disease uprear'd its flaming dart,
Veiling Hope's eyelids, and her brow serene:
Still wilder plague-spots work'd at England heart,—
Impoverish'd, bleeding, sad, and torn in every part.

Famine, that even with drops of living blood,
And death of dearest children, still would buy,
With weight of life, the weight of living food:
Disease, that eats the heart-strings, and doth lie
In burning brains, and in the fever'd eye,
Whose couch is poison, and whose sleep is hell:
Despair that broods in fires that never die;
A hungry skeleton: these, came to dwell
With all the ghastly train that their battalions swell.

And now the haughty barons, castled strong,
Like blood-hounds, hunted each his own domain,
(Made savage by the times they liv'd among;
Them, might of king nor people could restrain.)
Time now hath done for them, what long, in vain,
Men strove; and the black ivy waves his plume
Where war's triumphant banners o'er the plain
Shone far, and spear and helmet lit the gloom:
And where proud heroes fought, the raven hath his home.

164

Gigantic pillars shape the skeleton
Of each majestic and unconquer'd pile;
Still, through vast halls, the carvings on the stone
Tell the old memories of our glorious Isle:
The echoing roof still speak of dance and smile,
The banquet, wassail, song and minstrelsie;
Where'er we walk, the mighty dead beguile
Our dreams, and lift our brooding thoughts more high—
And sometimes to our eyes, do ancient ghosts glide by.

We see the chamber, where, by moonlight sweet,
Some haughty maiden heard her lover's plight,
Or wav'd her kerchief when her warrior's feet
Came for the guerdon of his love and might,
Heroic, from the tournament or fight.
We tread the marble, where dead kings have stood—
The tomb-stones of full many a noble knight;
Or walk in caverns, stain'd with heroes' blood,
Or patriots pure and bright, or martyrs just and good.

And, oh, when all the heavens are deeply blue,
The stars all bright, the winds all breathing low;
And when the morn's fair streamers come in view,
Snow-white, on lake and distant mountain's brow,
How lovely and majestic seem ye now!
Ye seem, as if some genii of the past,
Fairies, or shapes of air, this glorious show
Had rear'd, so lightly tower and buttress vast
Stand forth—such heavenly beams all round about are cast.

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Yea, not in flush of morn, when ploughmen sing,
As merry as the lark; not at bright noon,
When winds and breezes sleep; nor evening,
When love, and leaves, and streamlets join in tune,
Are ye so lovely, as when shines the moon!
Then seem the ghosts of buried forms to rise,
All clad in glittering mail, or rustling gown;
Then wond'rous shapes do flit before the eyes—
Pale phantoms of the past, commission'd from the skies!

Ye, who would know your native land, walk here!
Time, ivy, raven, bat, will tell the tale.
Ponder, and as you ponder, drop a tear,
And think how all things in the end shall fail.
The winter winds among these arches wail—
The only dirge for the majestic dead:
The 'scutcheons and armorial records tell,
That even the mightiest must bow the head,
And greatness, beauty, strength, with conquering Death be wed!

Walk mournfully away, in modest guise;
Ye have been link'd with the old deeds of time;
Ye have held converse with the great and wise,
Who built your fame, and made your land sublime;
Who gave another sunlight to your clime;
Drove off the mists, and rent your bonds in twain!
What though their names have wax'd a little dim,
Their actions live without a spot or stain;
Our liberties and rights still proudly we retain!