The Legend of Genevieve with other tales and poems. By Delta [i.e. David Macbeth Moir] |
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SOLITUDE. |
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 | The Legend of Genevieve |  |
226
SOLITUDE.
The autumnal sun, with melancholy ray,
Towards the approach of twilight, from the west
Faintly shone out; some specks of fleecy cloud,
Scarce colour'd by his glory, hover'd round;
The wind was not: and, as the shadows threw
Their darkness far, the pausing spirit felt
The deep impressive stillness of that hour!
Towards the approach of twilight, from the west
Faintly shone out; some specks of fleecy cloud,
Scarce colour'd by his glory, hover'd round;
The wind was not: and, as the shadows threw
Their darkness far, the pausing spirit felt
The deep impressive stillness of that hour!
Sure never place was more forlorn:—I saw,
Sole image of existence, the grey hawk
Perch'd on an antique stone, once character'd
With figures, now all lichen overgrown.—
Four-sided rose the walls around me, dark,
And sprinkled with the moss of many a year,
Grey mouldering lime, and iron weather-stains,
Piled in old times remote, by artisans
Long perish'd, leaving not a trace behind.
Sole image of existence, the grey hawk
Perch'd on an antique stone, once character'd
With figures, now all lichen overgrown.—
Four-sided rose the walls around me, dark,
And sprinkled with the moss of many a year,
Grey mouldering lime, and iron weather-stains,
Piled in old times remote, by artisans
Long perish'd, leaving not a trace behind.
227
Hard by, in ancient times, a hamlet stood
Fair, as tradition tells:—its habitants,
Sequester'd from the scenes of city life,
Were simple, and were peaceful, like the men
Of patriarchal days; in love they dwelt,
In hope they died, and here were laid to rest.
Arising with the lark, at morn they drove
Their team a-field; or, on the neighbouring hills,
From wanderings and from danger kept their flocks,
The long blue summer through; and when the snows
O'erspread the verdant pasture, by the hearth
'Twas theirs to sing amid their household tasks;
Friendship together knit their willing hearts;
Nor was Love distant, with her rosy smile,
And laughing eyes, to bless the younger train.—
Now, where the hamlet stood, the fern and moss
Spread thick; with prickles arm'd, the bramble throws
Its snake-like branches round; the broad-leaved dock
Shoots rankly; and uncheck'd the nettles spring
Luxuriant, with their tufts of hanging seed.
Silent—alone—one melancholy tree,
With rifted rind, and long, lean, hanging boughs,
Like skeleton arms, upon the wither'd heath
Stands desolate; and with its quivering leaf,
That, as in mockery, saws the twilight sky,
Whispers, How spareless Time hath triumph'd there!
Fair, as tradition tells:—its habitants,
Sequester'd from the scenes of city life,
Were simple, and were peaceful, like the men
Of patriarchal days; in love they dwelt,
In hope they died, and here were laid to rest.
Arising with the lark, at morn they drove
Their team a-field; or, on the neighbouring hills,
From wanderings and from danger kept their flocks,
The long blue summer through; and when the snows
O'erspread the verdant pasture, by the hearth
'Twas theirs to sing amid their household tasks;
Friendship together knit their willing hearts;
Nor was Love distant, with her rosy smile,
And laughing eyes, to bless the younger train.—
Now, where the hamlet stood, the fern and moss
Spread thick; with prickles arm'd, the bramble throws
Its snake-like branches round; the broad-leaved dock
Shoots rankly; and uncheck'd the nettles spring
Luxuriant, with their tufts of hanging seed.
Silent—alone—one melancholy tree,
With rifted rind, and long, lean, hanging boughs,
Like skeleton arms, upon the wither'd heath
Stands desolate; and with its quivering leaf,
228
Whispers, How spareless Time hath triumph'd there!
How silent!—Even the beating of my heart
Feels an intrusion here:—the sward is dim
With moss and danky weeds, and lichen'd stones
That seem, as if from immemorial time,
Upon the same spot to have lain untouch'd.
The very graves have moulder'd to decay,
Tenantless—boneless—clods of common earth:
The storms, the piercing winds, and plashing rains,
So long have beat upon them, and the snows,
Melting in spring, so often soak'd them through
And through, that every undulating swell
Is levell'd.
Feels an intrusion here:—the sward is dim
With moss and danky weeds, and lichen'd stones
That seem, as if from immemorial time,
Upon the same spot to have lain untouch'd.
The very graves have moulder'd to decay,
Tenantless—boneless—clods of common earth:
The storms, the piercing winds, and plashing rains,
So long have beat upon them, and the snows,
Melting in spring, so often soak'd them through
And through, that every undulating swell
Is levell'd.
Oh! how dim, how desolate!—
The aspect of mortality is press'd
Like lead upon my soul:—that human things
Such as I am, and others are, and such
As those were, who of old were buried here,
Should lie and rot amid the damp, wet mould,
Moveless, and voiceless, senseless, silent, still,
To nourish for a while the earth-worm's brood,—
Then pass to nothing, like a morning mist,—
Nor leave one token, nor one trace behind!
The aspect of mortality is press'd
Like lead upon my soul:—that human things
Such as I am, and others are, and such
As those were, who of old were buried here,
Should lie and rot amid the damp, wet mould,
Moveless, and voiceless, senseless, silent, still,
To nourish for a while the earth-worm's brood,—
Then pass to nothing, like a morning mist,—
Nor leave one token, nor one trace behind!
229
Musing, I stand a breathing creature here
In loneliness, beneath the twilight sky,
Silent, and circled with forgotten graves!—
A hundred years have come, and pass'd away,
Since last a fellow-mortal in this field
Did make his bed of rest; a hundred years,
Eluded, have the drilling insects bored
Their passage through the sterile soil, nor found
Aught new to be a banquet for their brood;—
No kind descendant, kindling with the fire
Of ancestry, in filial reverence comes
Hither to gaze, where his forefathers lay;
Their generation, their descendants, all
That knew them living, or might weep them dead—
Their thoughts, their deeds, their names, their memories,
Have floated down the stream of time, to join
The ocean of oblivion, on whose breast
Of their existence not one wreck appears.—
In loneliness, beneath the twilight sky,
Silent, and circled with forgotten graves!—
A hundred years have come, and pass'd away,
Since last a fellow-mortal in this field
Did make his bed of rest; a hundred years,
Eluded, have the drilling insects bored
Their passage through the sterile soil, nor found
Aught new to be a banquet for their brood;—
No kind descendant, kindling with the fire
Of ancestry, in filial reverence comes
Hither to gaze, where his forefathers lay;
Their generation, their descendants, all
That knew them living, or might weep them dead—
Their thoughts, their deeds, their names, their memories,
Have floated down the stream of time, to join
The ocean of oblivion, on whose breast
Of their existence not one wreck appears.—
Silently as the clouds of summer heaven,
Across the skies of life they fleeted by,
And were not; like the flaky snow, that falls
Melting within the ocean stream;—the mist
That floats upon the gentle morning air,
And dies to nothingness at glowing noon;
Like valley flowers, which at the sunrise ope
Their golden cups, and shut at eventide!
Across the skies of life they fleeted by,
And were not; like the flaky snow, that falls
Melting within the ocean stream;—the mist
That floats upon the gentle morning air,
And dies to nothingness at glowing noon;
230
Their golden cups, and shut at eventide!
A remnant from the flock of human kind
They lie cut off—a solitary tribe:
Now o'er the spot, where erst their ashes lay,
The dews may fall, the rains may beat unknown,
The winds may journey, and the weeds may spring,—
None heed them, and none hear them—all is still.
They lie cut off—a solitary tribe:
Now o'er the spot, where erst their ashes lay,
The dews may fall, the rains may beat unknown,
The winds may journey, and the weeds may spring,—
None heed them, and none hear them—all is still.
| The Legend of Genevieve | |