Sir Marmaduke Maxwell, A Dramatic Poem :: :: University of Virginia Library

We furrow'd the foam of the bonnie green sea,
And sweet was the sound of its waters to me;
We bore away eastward; it seem'd as grey day
Gan to mottle the mountains—away, and away,
As we wanton'd, the billows came curling in night
I' th' eastward,—but westward they sparkled in light.
The wind in our mainsail sang fitful and loud,
And the cry of the sea-eagle came from the cloud;
We pass'd wooded headland, and sharp promontory,
And ocean-rock famous in maritime story;
Till the sun with a burst o'er the tall eastern pines,
Shower'd his strength on the ocean in long gleaming lines—
And lo! and behold! we rode fair in the bay
Of that fairest of friths, the broad sunny Solway:
There tower'd haughty Skiddaw; here rose Criffel green;
There, haunted Caerlaverock's white turrets between,
Green Man, like a garden, lay scenting the seas;
Gay maidens gazed seaward from sunny Saint Bees—

165

Dumfries's bright spires, Dalswinton's wild hill,
Comlongan's grey turrets,—deep Nith, winding still
'Tween her pine-cover'd margins her clear-gushing waters,
Which mirror the shapes of her song-singing daughters;
Thou too, my own Allanbay, sea-swept and sunny;
Whitehaven for maidens, black, comely, and bonny;
And generous Arbigland, by mariners hallow'd,
A name known in prayer, and in blessing, and ballad.

2.

As I look'd, two gay barks from their white halsers broke
With a shout o'er the billows from Barnhourie rock;
Their white pennons flaunted, their masts seem'd to bend;
As they pass'd the rough headland of cavern'd Colvend;
My ancient guide smiled, and his old hand he lay'd
On the helm,—and the ship felt his wish and obey'd:
Her head from sweet Allanbay suddenly turning,
Sprung away—and the billows beneath her seem'd burning.
Nigh the sister barks came, and the deep shores were ringing
With a merry wild legend the seamen kept singing,
Nor man's voice alone o'er the sea-wave could render
Bard's labour so witching, and charming, and tender;
For I heard a rich voice through that old legend pour'd,
The voice too of Her I long served and adored;
Hard fortune, false friends, and mine ill-destinie,
And the dark grave have sunder'd that sweet one from me.

166

3.

Soon the sister barks came, and shout, yelloch, and mirth,
Now rung in the water, and rung in the earth;
And I saw on the decks, with their merry eyes glancing,
And all their fair temple locks heaving and dancing,
Not my true love alone; but maids mirthsome and free,
And as frank as the wind to the leaf of the tree.
There was Katherine Oneen, Lurgan's bonniest daughter,
Gay Mally Macbride, from the haunted Bann water,
And she who lays all seamen's hearts in embargoes,
Who have hearts for to lose, in old kind Carrickfergus.
Green Nithsdale had sent me her frank Nannie Haining,
With an eye that beam'd less for devotion than sinning;
Mary Carson the meek, and Kate Candlish the gay,
Two maids from the mountains of blythe Galloway;
And Annand, dear Annand, my joys still regarding,
Sent her joyous Johnstone, her blythesomer Jardine;
And bonnie Dumfries, which the muse loves so well,
Came gladdening my heart with her merry Maxwell;
And loveliest and last, lo! a sweet maiden came,
I trust not my tongue with recording her name,—
She is flown to the land of the leal, and I'm left,
As a bird from whose side the left wing has been reft.

4.

Glad danced all the damsels—their long flowing hair
In bright tresses swam in the dewy morn air;
More lovely they look'd, and their eyes glanced more killing,
As the music wax'd louder, and warmer, and thrilling;

167

The waves leap'd and sang, and seem'd with the meek lute
To keep, not to give, the meet time to the foot.
The shaven masts quiver'd, the barks to the sound
Moved amid the deep waters with start and with bound;
All the green shores remurmur'd, and there seemed to run
Strange shapes on the billows; the light of the sun
Was lustrous and wild, and its shooting gleam gave
More of cold than of warmth to the swelling sea-wave.
I trembled and gazed, for I thought on the hour,
When the witch has her will, and the fiend has his power,
And the sea-spirit rides the dark waters aboon,
Working mariners woe 'neath the Hallowmass moon.
And I thought on my old merry mate, Martin Halmer,
Doom'd till doomsday to sail in a vessel of glamour,
Between sunny Saint Bees and the Mouth of the Orr—
Wives pray still, as shrieking he shoots from the shore.

5.

Now nigh came the sister barks—nigher and nigher—
More gay grew the song, more melodious the lyre;
More lovely maids look'd, and their feet leap'd more free,
The rocks rung, and more merrily sung the green sea:
And I gazed, for I could not but gaze, and there stood—
Meek and mild her dark eye-glance down-cast on the flood—
That fair one whose looks, while ships swim the salt sea,
While light comes to morning, and leaves to the tree,
While birds love the greenwood, and fish the fresh river,
Shall bless me, and charm me, for ever and ever.

168

O I deem'd that nought evil might mimic the light
Of those dark eyes divine, and that forehead so bright,
Nought from the grim sojourn unhallow'd, unshriven,
Dared put on the charms, and the semblance of heaven;
She glanced her eye on me—from white brow to bosom,
All ruddy she wax'd, as the dewy rose blossom.
I call'd on my love—with a blush and a sigh,
And side-looking, as still was her wont, she drew nigh.

6.

“Heaven bless thee!” I said,—even while I was speaking,
The phantom barks vanish'd, with yelling and shrieking;
And mine Ancient Guide glared, as a tiger will glare,
When he comes to his den and the hunters are there:
And changing his shape, to a cormorant he grew,
Thrice clanging his wings round the shallop he flew;
And away from the sea and the shore, in his flight,
Fast faded and vanish'd that charmed day-light.
Down on the dread deck then my forehead I laid,
Call'd on Him that's on high—to his meek Son, I pray'd:
The spectre bark shook—'neath my knees seem'd to run
The planking, like snow in the hot summer sun:
Such darkness dropt on me as when the sea wars
With the heaven, and quenches the moon, and the stars;
And my dread guide flew round me, in swift airy rings,
Stooping down, like a sea raven, clapping his wings—
A raven no more, now a fire he became,
And thrice round the shallop has flown the fiend-flame;
In the flame flew a form; and the bark, as he shot
Shrivel'd down to a barge, and a bottomless boat—

169

And I call'd unto him who is mighty to save;
Swift his spirit flew down and rebuked the sea-wave,
And smote the charm'd boat; with a shudder it sounded
Away through the flood, on the greensward I bounded;
And back flew the boat, to a black mist I saw
It dissolve—I gazed seaward in terror and awe;
While my Fiend Guide passed off, like a shadow, and said
“Mahoun had not power to harm hair of thy head!”
I praised God, and pondering sought gladly my way,
To the merriment-making in sweet Allanbay.
But never may landsman or mariner more
Muse in Hallowmass eve on that haunted sea shore;
Nor behold the fiend's wonders he works in the main,
With my Guide and his dread Spectre Shallop again!