The poems of Owen Meredith (Honble Robert Lytton.) ::

If there be any of mortal stock
Worthy to say ‘I will waken that lay,’
Uplifted high on a lofty tower
Where the light is holy and fresh from heaven,
In a white robe stoled, with a harp of gold,
He, in the hearing of gods and men,
Should smite his harp; and the matin hour
Should make his lips as were Memnon's, when
That strong marmorean mouth of his
From the rapturous east a reorient ray
Of his mother's fairest effulgences
Did, with a mystical fiery touch,
To a sudden etherial melody wake.
Alas, that in me is no music such
As would then be heard for my hero's sake!
Yet, because for the lack of a bard to make
The world aware of how great they were,
Heroes, 'tis said, there have been upon earth
Whose worth, tho' beyond Agamemnon's worth,

198

Hath miss'd due honour, heroical bird,
Since worthier singers are silent still,
Needs must thou suffer that, undeterr'd
By mine own unworth, and my want of skill,
I make essay, at the dawn of day,
In honour of thine to awaken the lay,
And, as tho' I stood on a lofty tower
Where the light is holy and fresh from heaven,
In a white robe stoled, with a harp of gold,
To hymn high praise of thy prowess and power,
And do homage in song to thy virtues seven.

III.

Handmaid of heroes, Martial Muse!
Bring to me, prithee, a burnisht shield,
Broad argent, pure, without blemish or bruise;
Such as, of old, upon roaring field,
The magnanimous monarch Idomeneus
Was wont in the burly of battle to wield
Mid immortals and mortals of marvellous thews.
By the mighty spirits of warriors old
Let the orb of that mighty shield be borne:
And roll me hither, thro' heavens that hold
High pageant to welcome the triumphing Morn,
Aurora's chariots, whose chargers bold
The youngest-born of the Hours adorn
With housing of glory and harness of gold,
Fann'd by the purple of fiery plumes,
And vermeil inviolate, laughing to scorn
The vividest twine of all Tyrian looms,
Then, ere one of its fleeting ardours faint,

199

Or ever a gorgeous cloud grow wan,
Dip me the pencil in each bright dye
Of that aëry pageant, that I may paint
Whom but the hero that marcheth by
In robes of honour regalian,
Mail'd and mantled, with crest on high,
The valorous marshal of Day's blithe van.

IV.

And all the while, by down and dale
Where dews are fresh and light is clear,
From far away i' the buxom gale
Let brave-mouth'd bronzen music come
Of chiding trump and thunderous drum,
Thrilling the heart of the man who may hear,
Like the moving on of some marvellous tale
Of chivalry joust and knightly cheer.

V.

With royal train,—rich-spouted rain,
From feathery fount, of plumage roll'd
In rearward pomp,—whose sheeny stain
Is sable shot with emerolde;
Breastplate broad of brightest gold;
Scarlet crest, thick turreted
As Cybele's, on stately head;
Beard of ruddier tinct than is
(If old legends lie not) his
Who, full-arm'd, is slumbering still
Hid in the heart of Salzburg hill;
Shining cuishes, greaves of steel;
Spleenful spur on knightly heel;

200

Who is he doth lightly leap,
Flashing forth o' the night's dim tent
When the dew is deep, and the lark asleep,
Orient arms in the Orient?

VI.

It is the guardian, gallant and gay,
Of the great world's drowsy conscience. Day
By day he doth in the twilight wan
Rise up, and, with resonant roundelay,
From the cloven caverns of dream unlock
Sleep's bondsmen, speeding upon their way
The wills and wishes of waken'd man.
How shall we hail him? what is his name?
His names are many, for wide his fame;
Blue-helm'd Bellona's champion,
The Bird of Mars, Alectryon,
The Bird of Fire, the Bird of Lok;
Sacred sire of a sacred clan;
Faithfullest chief of the feathery flock
Since temples arose in Asia,
Or priests and augurs their rites began,
Roman, Grecian, Arabian,
And Runic,—they whose spells could sway
Sea-hurricanes Scandinavian.

VII.

Wise and wary as one should be
That is vigilant lord of the virtues seven,
First of all upon earth is he
To watch, and be ware of, change in heaven.
For in heaven a bride he hath; and she
Is starry, tender, and fair to see;

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Whose mystical name is Alcyon.
To her he merrily three times three
Soundeth his strepitant clarion.
Since nothing hath he to hide; but, free
And open, he beareth wherever he wend
A fearless front and a spirit bold
In all his wooings and all his wars.
Which well they knew, those Flamens old
Who in honour did hold for his corselet of gold,
His stately stride, and his crest on end,
The armèd comrade of mighty Mars,
And fair Minerva's familiar friend.

VIII.

When he walketh under the vaulted arch
Wherethro' a mounted knight might march
At easy speed his pacing steed
Nor bruise one plume of his helmet crest,
This bird, whose magnanimous graciousness
The least of his kingly gestes express,
Hath so lofty a heart in so lordly a breast
That, with condescensive and sidelong tread,
Lightly he boweth his stately head,
For courtesy's sake, as becometh a king
With his vassals around him progressing.

IX.

Then up on a great sunbeam he springeth,
His clashing vans doth thrice unlock
With a shudder of joy, and make sweet shock
Of all his silken sheeny feathers

202

And wingeth, but not far he wingeth,
His weighty flight, erect and tall
Descending on the breezy wall,
Where he with voice sonorous singeth,
After the fashion of his forefathers
To rally his clan from far away,
His ancient famous roundelay.
But first, as when in martial Rome,
Before the Conscript Fathers all,
Uprising with importance, some
Great orator sedate and tall
Assumed imposing attitude,
With gather'd robe and right arm bare,
So he, in oratoric mood,
With finger'd foot upcurl'd in air,
Fit posture doth select; then high
And shrill is heard the rallying cry
Whereto, his kinsmen, answering him
From distant regions, make reply;
While he, with inward ecstacy,
Doth either dim blue eyelid film
Let fall o'er each delighted eye.

X.

Anon, the noon is high up-wheel'd
And reapers droop in oaten field.
But he for whom my harp I string
(So might I half his glory share!)
In easy state, an orient king
Gracious, grave, and debonair,
Thro' his throng'd seraglio moveth
'Mid his strutting queens; and, stately,
One he seeketh, one reproveth,

203

Ruling all sedately.
Well-skill'd in government is he,
High-couraged, honourable,
And gentle-manner'd, as should be
Good kings whose thrones are stable:
Wise, loving, watchful as a star,
By lofty thoughts uplifted;
And, birds or men, full few there are
So affluently gifted.

XI.

Chanted and told to a harp of gold,
Upon seven strings, should his virtues be;
That be sevenfold as, in time of old,
Were the Seven Spirits of Chivalrie:
Noble Valour, that feareth none:
Prudence, that keepeth what Valour hath won:
Vigilance, arm'd on his watch-tower tall:
Justice, the joyous controller of all:
Temperance, who to the Virtues, her brothers
And sisters, is handmaiden, helping those others:
Courtesy, skill'd without falsehood to please:
And Love, the lifegiver, that leadeth all these.
Chanted and told to a harp of pure gold,
Upon strings that are seven, with song sevenfold,
Worthy to be are his virtues. And we,
If we were as bold, as loving, as free,
High-hearted, strong-soul'd, and wise, as he,
As sober, vigorous, vigilant, just,
And joyous, and scornful of mean mistrust,
Then the world would be what the world to me
Doth seem when I hear, in the sunshine clear,
This minstrel making magnanimous cheer,

204

And hailing the light with a heart of glee.
For his brave song teacheth timely content:
And, far as it reacheth, my soul is sent,
Honouring God's good government,
And greeting the general joy of the world:
While music without, and mirth within,
Mingle my heart with the merry din
Of a loud and high defiance hurl'd
At darkness, and sorrow, and sin.

A cock was painted on the shield of Idomeneus.

The constellation of the Pleiades was called by the Arabian Astronomers “The Hen and chickens.”—

University of Virginia Library

THE LAY OF THE COCK.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

X.

XI.