Lines in Pleasant Places Rhythmics of many moods and quantities. Wise and otherwise |
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THE PERFIDIOUS MILLER. |
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 | Lines in Pleasant Places |  |
238
THE PERFIDIOUS MILLER.
[_]
[A romaunt founded on the well-known legend of the “Miller of Brentnal Mere,” wherein the perjured miller comes to a disastrous end, according to the most exact code of poetic justice.]
The air is chill on heath and hill;
Beyond the desert plain
The sombre mill stands hearkening still
To the river's sad refrain;
Seeming dreaming,
In silent pain,
Of something sadly against its grain.
Beyond the desert plain
The sombre mill stands hearkening still
To the river's sad refrain;
Seeming dreaming,
In silent pain,
Of something sadly against its grain.
The mill-lamp glows, and the window shows
Red in its lurid ray,
And the beam outgoes where the water flows
On its turbid and sullen way;
And on the tide,
Where smiles should play,
There's a gloom as if there's mischief “to pay.”
Red in its lurid ray,
And the beam outgoes where the water flows
On its turbid and sullen way;
And on the tide,
Where smiles should play,
There's a gloom as if there's mischief “to pay.”
The great wheel groans, and the huge mill-stones
Chew up the yellow corn,
But in the tones there are fancied moans,
And sounds of woe forlorn;
And shivering there
Stands Miller Horn
With a pallid face, of terror born.
Chew up the yellow corn,
239
And sounds of woe forlorn;
And shivering there
Stands Miller Horn
With a pallid face, of terror born.
Ah! guesses he well, would he but tell,
That sorry strain he hears,
That, like a knell of a bell, or a yell,
Keeps sounding in his ears:
Ringing, dinging,
Like note of spheres,
That wake nowadays no burning fears!
That sorry strain he hears,
That, like a knell of a bell, or a yell,
Keeps sounding in his ears:
Ringing, dinging,
Like note of spheres,
That wake nowadays no burning fears!
His matted hair diverges there,
And chatter well his teeth;
He hears despair in the ambient air,
And a demon underneath,
Striving, driving,
With fierce pent breath,
To reach him, he feels, with stroke of death.
And chatter well his teeth;
He hears despair in the ambient air,
And a demon underneath,
Striving, driving,
With fierce pent breath,
To reach him, he feels, with stroke of death.
[OMITTED]
'Twas midnight hour, when ghosts have power;
And there amid the gloom
Did he wildly glower through a mealy shower,
As if to read his doom;
When to his ear,
As from a tomb,
A voice cried out, “We come—make room!”
And there amid the gloom
Did he wildly glower through a mealy shower,
As if to read his doom;
When to his ear,
As from a tomb,
A voice cried out, “We come—make room!”
240
Then by the door and through the floor
Came imps of ghastly hue,
Demons galore and more and more
They crowded on his view,
With full intent
He too well knew,
To put him most severely through.
Came imps of ghastly hue,
Demons galore and more and more
They crowded on his view,
With full intent
He too well knew,
To put him most severely through.
But, up to snuff, he tried the bluff—
He knew the game quite well;
He was good stuff, and tough, but rough
Did conscience in him swell;
But bluff he found
Though here it tell,
Was not a game to win in—other places.
He knew the game quite well;
He was good stuff, and tough, but rough
Did conscience in him swell;
But bluff he found
Though here it tell,
Was not a game to win in—other places.
“Who are you, pray, that come this way,
In such fanfaronade?
Hast been in, say, the Black Crook play,
That you are thus arrayed?
Dost think that I
Will be afraid,
Or at your monkey tricks dismayed?
In such fanfaronade?
Hast been in, say, the Black Crook play,
That you are thus arrayed?
Dost think that I
Will be afraid,
Or at your monkey tricks dismayed?
“If spirits thou, pray tell me how
‘Ye constabels’ ye shied?
For round here now they lurk and bow,
And watch on every side;
Not ‘ardent’ thou
Identified,
Or seized thou'dst been and straightway tried.”
‘Ye constabels’ ye shied?
For round here now they lurk and bow,
And watch on every side;
Not ‘ardent’ thou
Identified,
Or seized thou'dst been and straightway tried.”
241
Then from the rout a sprite stepped out,
—A ghostess very grim,—
Both tall and stout, and screechéd out
A speech of ghostly vim,
While on the wall
The light burned dim,
And all the imps glared fierce at him:
—A ghostess very grim,—
Both tall and stout, and screechéd out
A speech of ghostly vim,
While on the wall
The light burned dim,
And all the imps glared fierce at him:
“Dost not know me, thou perjured he?
Better thou ne'er wast born;
I am she whom thy perfidee
Consigned to fate forlorn;
You played me false,
And married Mrs. Horn!”
“Alas!” cried he, “I own the corn.”
Better thou ne'er wast born;
I am she whom thy perfidee
Consigned to fate forlorn;
You played me false,
And married Mrs. Horn!”
“Alas!” cried he, “I own the corn.”
“You vowed,” she said, “that me you'd wed,
—The dearest you had seen,—
Then straight you sped and marri-ed
Amanda Agnes Green;
And I, ah me!
In bitter spleen,
Jumped overboard and closed the scene!
—The dearest you had seen,—
Then straight you sped and marri-ed
Amanda Agnes Green;
And I, ah me!
In bitter spleen,
Jumped overboard and closed the scene!
“Your vow you'll keep; no more you'll sleep
'Twixt peaceful blankets twain;
The froglets peep above the deep,
Where I so long have lain,
And that with me,
By might and main,
You share my river-bed I'm fain.”
'Twixt peaceful blankets twain;
The froglets peep above the deep,
Where I so long have lain,
And that with me,
By might and main,
You share my river-bed I'm fain.”
242
With bitter shriek, with deathly cheek,
“Now spare me, pray,” said he;
“Your looks bespeak some dreadful freak
That bodes no good to me;
My wife at home
Will nervous be,
If I don't come to time nor tea.”
“Now spare me, pray,” said he;
“Your looks bespeak some dreadful freak
That bodes no good to me;
My wife at home
Will nervous be,
If I don't come to time nor tea.”
With jump and bound they hedged him round,
They girt him every way;
His head was wound with a meal-bag found,
His tongue alone had play;
And hard he begged
For another day,
But the ghostess, claiming the groom, said “Nay.’
They girt him every way;
His head was wound with a meal-bag found,
His tongue alone had play;
And hard he begged
For another day,
But the ghostess, claiming the groom, said “Nay.’
The miller they seized, the miller they squeezed
In the hopper, and down he sped;
He merely sneezed as the grinder seized,
And never opened his head;
Indeed I'm sure
All ope had fled
Ere he was ground to gingerbread!
In the hopper, and down he sped;
He merely sneezed as the grinder seized,
And never opened his head;
Indeed I'm sure
All ope had fled
Ere he was ground to gingerbread!
The mill still moans in sorry tones
For the miller's cruel end,
And the miller's bones on the senseless stones
With rye and indian blend:
While underneath
Doth still contend
The struggling fiend with wrench and rend.
For the miller's cruel end,
And the miller's bones on the senseless stones
With rye and indian blend:
While underneath
Doth still contend
The struggling fiend with wrench and rend.
243
When the storm o' nights the soul affrights,
And with fear the nerves are torn,
The gossip delights as she recites
How the ghostess doubled the Horn,
When in the night,
Through the hopper borne,
The miller followed his grist of corn.
And with fear the nerves are torn,
The gossip delights as she recites
How the ghostess doubled the Horn,
When in the night,
Through the hopper borne,
The miller followed his grist of corn.
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