Poems, chiefly dramatic and lyric by the Revd. H. Boyd ... containing the following dramatic poems: The Helots, a tragedy, The Temple of Vesta, The Rivals, The Royal Message. Prize Poems, &c. &c |
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SPECIMEN OF THE CAPTIVES,
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 | Poems, chiefly dramatic and lyric |  |
590
SPECIMEN OF THE CAPTIVES,
A ROMANCE,
(READY FOR THE PRESS.)
The exordium gives a short view of the invasion of England by the Danes, in the tenth century, and their defeat by Alfred.
XIII
And now the hurricane was over blown,And to the North retir'd the ruffian blast:
Again the victor climb'd the regal throne,
With Scandinavian spoils superbly grac'd,
And o'er old England's harrast plains, at last,
The dawn of Freedom led the golden day,
While, tir'd of arms, the power of battles cast
His polish'd helm and brigantine away,
And thro' the summer groves, pursu'd the sylvan prey.
591
XIV
With clamorous hounds, to chace the flying doe,The Royal Saxon, on a summer morn,
(While yet the welkin wore a crimson glow)
Awoke the woodland choirs with jocund horn.
And Sol, at last, by flaming coursers borne,
Emerging from the pomp of woods afar,
Began, in umber'd radiance to adorn
The wide, delightful scene, of sylvan war,
From Windsor's purple hills, to Dover's chalky bar.
XV
Following the chace, along the opening vale,Which points its bosom to the passing flood,
They saw a brigantine, with easy sail,
Which up majestic Thames it's course pursu'd,
Borne on the swelling tide: the hunters stood,
And saw the strangers slack the toiling oar,
Awhile, the wond'ring bands each other view'd,
At length the hardy sailors sought the shore,
And in the friendly creek, the wave-worn vessel moor.
XVI
Forth from the Royal retinue, with speed,At Alfred's word, a youthful Baron sprung;
And, as the strangers crost the level mead,
With hasty words addrest the weary throng:
592
Those hostile waters, with forbidden prow;
No more the sons of violence and wrong,
Around our shores in sable squadrons go,
Or dare to ravage here, since Denmark's overthrow!”
XVII
He spoke, and thus the senior of the band,“Say, ere we answer, has our search an end?
We seek the sovereign of this happy land,
And at the awful throne adoring bend?
When first we saw this noble train descend,
Thro' the green forest, to the azure flood,
In glad presage, we deem'd the royal friend
Of Liberty, the sylvan chace pursu'd,
To this delightful shore, along the ecchoing wood.”
XVIII
O gallant youth! confirm this augury,And take the thanks of this o'erlabour'd train!
From Iverdon, beyond the western sea;
We come, the aid of Alfred to obtain,
To rescue from the foe, our lost domain,
Who rages in the centre of our isle;
Where after many battles fought, in vain,
He lords it o'er Juverna's choicest spoil,
While scarce the slender bands support the strenuous toil.”
593
XIX
The wond'ring youth the foreigners survey'd,And gently thus return'd: “Ye guess'd aright!
Come! follow me to yonder welcome shade,
Where yon broad sycamore excludes the light,
For now the burning sun ascends the height
Of Heaven, and yonder halts the royal crew.”
In grateful thanks for this auspicious sight,
They bow to Heaven, and straight their guide pursue,
Where the attendant train the slaughter'd quarry drew.
XX
There sate the Saxon Lord, in royal state,And saw his train prepare the rich repast;
But now, the messenger of Eirin's fate,
By the young Baron led, with fervent haste,
To the green summer hall of Audience prest;
And kneeling low, with supplicating strain,
With pious tears, and ardent prayers, addrest
The warlike Chief, of England's wide domain;
And thus began the guide of Eirin's suppliant train:
XXI
“Father of Freedom! Hear the fervent prayerOf Iverdon, that calls aloud for aid!
While Windsor's woods resound the sylvan war,
And the brown tenants of the summer shade,
Lead on the flying chace, from glade to glade.
594
There Scandinavia's sons in slaughter wade;
While from the breezy hill, and winding dell,
Borne on the sighing gale, the notes of anguish swell.”
XXII
“O leave the flying wolf, and timorous doe,And spend your fury on a nobler game!
The Dane will meet your lance, a daring foe,
And add new glories to your deathless name.
Soon as the winds your mighty march proclaim,
The sacrilegious raven quits her prey,
And, when you lance abroad the bolted flame
Mounts on the winged winds, and sails away,
Like Night's ill omen'd birds, before the shafts of day!”
XXIII
Irresolute the royal warriour stood,While Memory call'd to view, the hated forms
Of burning towns, and fleets, and fields of blood,
And nightly ambuscades, and wild alarms.
His hardy train, tho' terrible in arms,
Yet shudder'd at the sound of Denmark's name;
All who remember'd how the Northern swarms,
On their pale strand, like inundations, came,
And spread along the shore like wide, consuming flame.
595
XXIV
They saw the Saxons doubt, and thus againThe hoary messenger renew'd his plea:
“Think on the moment, when the cruel Dane,
Sagacious of your flight, from sea to sea
Pursu'd your steps, when sacred Athelney,
By many a marsh, and sounding flood secur'd,
The last retreat of parting liberty;
Preserv'd the reliques of the conqu'ring sword,
And in her solemn shades her flying King immur'd.”
XXV
“Who bade the guardian spirit of the night,Wake in her lonely moors the lamping blaze,
That led the Danes, with long, fallacious light,
Far from the path, in many a winding maze,
Where never mortal trode the faithless space;
While the green sward, that felt unusual weight,
With horrid chasm, their flying march betrays;
And all at once, ingulfs the living freight,
While Ivar blam'd their stay, unconscious of their fate.”
XXVI
“He, whose nocturnal flame, and cloud by day,Secur'd thy safety, now thine arm demands!
596
The baffled rage of Scandinavia's bands.
That power, whose mandate mov'd the shifting sands,
And fleets and armies from the port repell'd,
Requires the help of thy victorious hands!
Forbid it, Heaven! the Dane should brave the field,
While Alfred hunts the doe, in summer woods conceal'd!
XXVII
“If pure Religion at thy footstool bends,And seeks thine aid, to hold the foe at bay;
Oh! think thy life was sav'd for nobler ends,
Than with the herd of Kings, to spend in play,
The fleeting hours of Life's uncertain day.
To England's glory, and to Alfred's fame,
Enough was given in many a bloody fray;
Now, let Humanity thy valour claim,
And our insulted Faith thy pious mind inflame!”
XXVIII
Fir'd at the bold address, the courtier crew,Murmur'd, and look'd intolerable scorn;
But the great Regent, to whose mental view,
The gradual chain of events yet unborn;
Rose in clear series, like the dawning morn,
To the sage Envoy thus his answer gave:
“Ierne's unexampled woes I mourn;
And, could my single arm her millions save,
The Scandinavian soon should fill the longing grave!”
597
XXIX
“But well ye know, the general voice must aidThe feeble movements of my bounded sway;
For here no King, in barb'rous pomp array'd,
With arbitrary nod, can raise or lay
Bellona's storm at will: But sage delay,
And public wisdom, strikes a surer wound.
The states assemble with the coming day,
Where fair Augusta shows her hallow'd mound,
Then to the wise Divan your embassy propound.”
XXX
He spoke, with reverence low, the suppliant bandDepart, and soon the brigandine ascend;
The jolly hunters, at their King's command,
To fair Augusta's walls their journey bend;
Behind, in close debate, as friend with friend,
The King with Landin rode, a Neustrian Knight,
In peaceful arts and arms completely train'd,
With whom he us'd to share the social rite,
And on his converse dwelt with ever new delight.
XXXI
For well he knew, with serious themes, or gay,To suit the moment, and the man to please;
And ev'ry land he knew, from Calpes bay,
To where Visurgis meets the northern seas:
598
And ev'ry scene renown'd of modern days,
Were his; and well he knew the mind to seize,
With the resistless charm of artful praise,
On which the sagest mind with ling'ring love delays.
XXXII
And well he knew to ward, with ready thought,Impending peril, or elude the blow;
With stratagems and wiles innumerous fraught,
To baffle or surprize the raging foe.
And well he knew to bid the passions glow,
Or soothe, to sudden calm, the ductile mind;
The royal Saxon seem'd his worth to know,
Often dependant on his arts refin'd,
When perils, mustering round, against his peace combin'd.
XXXIII
Him Alfred lov'd, but cautious still, and just,Resolv'd his favourite's honour to explore,
And find, if public love, or sacred lust
Of sway, his bosom rul'd with sovereign power;
Ere he disclos'd to light the hallow'd store,
Of sapient counsels in his breast conceal'd.—
—Then musing, as they trac'd the level shore;
A crisis fit, the prudent chief beheld,
And thus, with aspect grave, his seeming views reveal'd.
599
XXXIV
“How blest the Ministers of Life and Light,Whose flaming charity can never fail,
For lack of means!—But we, immerst in night,
And doom'd to wander this sublunar vale,
Where, for a day, we fill the lowest scale
Of intellectual life, lament to see,
Passion, and Prejudice, and Fear prevail;
And sordid Self, with interested plea,
Against the struggling soul's seraphic energy.”
XXXV
“Oh! were it mine!—the soul-ennobling spell,With solitary voice to wake the war;
Soon should resounding Fame my trophies tell,
And purple conquests guide my lofty car!
Nor should the haughty Lord of Denmark dare
To waft his levy'd legions o'er the main!—
—But oh! the cruel Fates have plac'd a bar
Before my hopes!—and Law's unfeeling train
Baffles my ardent prayer, and bids me wish in vain!”
XXXVI
“How do I burn to share the bloody fray,And meet with mutual shock my ancient foe;
But Senates interpose, with cold delay,
And dull debates retard the falling blow.
600
Yet do I love, with sudden powers combin'd
To bear destruction on my sounding prow,
And leave the flying march of Fame behind,
Till Lochlin, in her doom, my dread arrival find!”
XXXVII
In thought, the fond believing minion spy'd,In Alfred's sudden wish, his inmost mind;
And, all too credulous his joy to hide,
The secret byas of the King to find:
Like a light skiff that veers with every wind,
Thus sooth'd the purpose of the royal soul:
“Shall narrow laws the heavenly temper bind?
Shall human ties the hero's hand controll,
Fitted to spread his sway from Indus to the Pole?”
XXXVIII
“Oh Alfred! seize at once the golden hour,That bounteous Heaven by Eirin's doom bestows;
England shall build thy formidable power,
A power, so dreadful to her ancient foes!—
The state must raise a barrier, to oppose
The fierce invasion of the cruel Dane;
And, taught on thy firm valour to repose,
Shall yield to thee, and thy victorious train,
The sovereignty, by land, and fasces of the main!”
601
XXXIX
“Levy thy legions! and if deep Surmise,With jealous eye, thy purpose seem to dread;
Point to the tempest in the northern skies,
Threat'ning afar, and gathering to a head.
Tell of Ierne's plains, with slaughter red!
Show how the conflagration rolls along,
Still with a large supply of fuel fed.
Till Britain's sons, and Gallia's martial throng,
Shall scarce repel the tide of Violence and wrong!”
XL
“Like Julius, thus the trembling senate fill,With constant rumours of invasions nigh;
And dark presages in their hearts instill,
From all the quarters of the angry sky.
Let their great edict bid thy banners fly,
And teach the frighted isle thy need to know;
Yet, suffer not thy legions long to lye
In torpid sloth, but bid their ardour glow
On Gaul's unguarded coast, or Scandinavia's snow!”
XLI
“Old England, soon accustom'd to the sight,Their glorious arbiter shall learn to boast,
And view thy armaments, with proud delight,
The guards of Freedom call'd on every coast;
602
In sweet oblivion of insulting war;
Thy skilful hand, unthought, and unopposed,
With master-movement winds the silken snare
Around their torpid limbs, and crowns reward thy care!”
XLII
“Oh! Alfred! then thy strong benevolence,No more by Senates awed, by forms confin'd,
Shall sally round the world, like light'nings glance,
And match the emanations of thy mind!—
—The Regent of the day, in light enshrin'd,
Shall stop awhile her burning wheels, to see
The fasces of his favour'd isle, resign'd
By the immediate hand of Heav'n, to thee,
Whilst Love, and filial Fear, applaud thy victory!”
XLIII
Some moments, lost in thought, the Monarch stood,While Indignation, join'd with generous Shame,
O'er his warm cheek suffus'd the mantling blood,
And shook with sudden throes his manly frame.
At length, he cry, “Oh Wisdom! Heavenly flame!
In love detach'd, from the primæval light,
To guide our feet, and lift the mortal name,
By just gradations, to an angel's height;
How are thy glories sunk in unsubstantial night?”
603
XLIV
“I ask not power, nor love despotic sway,That slippery boon, so much by mortals sought;
Nor, ask I Reason's clear unclouded ray,
Content to share the less invidious lot
Of virtuous lore, by Heaven, in mercy taught
To erring man, his fault'ring steps to guide!
Be Memory! Fancy! Intellect forgot!
All bounteous Heaven! the dangerous talent hide
If thus ev'n Reason falls to ruin, missapply'd!”
XLV
“How oft thy words, like op'ning summer, clear'dThe clouds, that settled on the deep debate!
How oft, assisted by thy skill, I steer'd
Thro' swallowing sands, the vessel of the state!
Thou subtle, mining spirit! seen too late!
O say what spell, in what portentous hour,
Led thee to brave the storm of public hate;
To mar thy vintage in th'unfolding flower,
To taint my honour first, and then abuse my power?”
XLVI
“Unhappy man! with all thy matchless sense,Thou saw'st not how I led thee to thy shame;
And now, what subterfuge? what weak pretence
Canst thou suggest to veil thy blasted fame?
604
Thy name, once glorious! now alas! how lost!
And know, thy injur'd King would rather claim,
In Freedom's band, his delegated post,
Than all the royal pomp of Asia's splendid coast!”
XLVII
“Go! thou ill-fated man! thy merits past,Ward from thy head the well deserved doom!
But from the hostile plains of Albion, haste!
Wherever Fortune leads thy steps to roam
The land of Liberty denies a home
To such as thee!—and may she still deny
Even the asylum of a quiet tomb,
To that foul hand that labours to untye
The hallow'd cords that bind her freeborn family!”
XLVIII
He spoke, and turn'd away:—With guilty shameOpprest, the favourite found his utterance fail;
Nor dar'd an audience of the King to claim,
His guilt to clear; but down the winding vale
His courser turn'd, while shadowy ev'ning pale
Wav'd o'er the purple hills her banner gray:
Meantime, the Monarch, in a flowery dale,
Joining his jolly troop, at close of day,
To fair Augusta's walls conducts the long array.
605
XLIX
Too generous failing of the manly breast?—The children yet unborn shall rue the day,
When Alfred's pitying hand the wretch releast,
And sent him, like a pestilence, away,
Over the unsuspecting world to stray,
At large, in specious Virtue's fair disguise!
Thus the fair mirrour, with fallacious ray,
Allures the sweet lark from the liquid skies,
And brings the warbler down, ah! never more to rise.
L
Landin the courtiers mist, but nought enquir'd,For oft the King, on expedition bent,
When any sudden call the thought inspir'd,
On errands of deep trust his fav'rites sent:
And oft the night, her cloudy curtain lent,
From prying Fame, their stealthy march to hide.
Thoughtful the Monarch seem'd, and all intent
On public cares, as thro' the portal wide,
And down the crowded way he led the living tide.
LI
In revelry and sport, the evening clos'd,Sweet relaxation of their woodland toil!
Then leaden Sleep his soothing spell impos'd
On every sense:—But Alfred, yet awhile,
Smit with the sufferings of the Sainted Isle,
606
The pleasing charm; and by the wasting oil
Of the nocturnal lamp, at large, pursu'd
His salutary schemes of wide-diffusive good.
LII
Then, closing all with prayer, the royal sage,To the primæval cause his vows addrest;
“O thou! whose power on this sublunar stage,
Me, all unfit, with regal honours grac'd;
And, by my hand, the cruel Dane represt;
Accept my thanks, that from a deadlier foe,
Pride, and the lust of power, thy love releast
Thy delegate, commission'd here below,
To bid thy blessings round in equal measure flow!”
LIII
“So may I ever by cælestial sight,From coward Doubt, and wild Ambition clear;
'Twixt the extremes, direct my course aright,
And thro' the dreadful shelves securely steer!
Still may I scorn the selfish call to hear,
When Duty pleads, or Glory points the way:
Or pure Religion, from her radiant sphere
Descends, with Freedom at her side, to pray
Her champion's aid, in arms, to chace the fiend away!”
607
LIV
The Monarch thus his aspirations breath'd,While, kept at distance by the solemn prayer,
The power of Slumber stood; then softly wreath'd
Around the regal brow, with gentle care,
The poppy crown, and many a vision fair,
Of op'ning glory, sooth'd the godlike breast:
There first, the fluctuating pomp of war,
The fairy scene in countless horrours drest,
Then golden days come on, and images of rest.
LV
But not compos'd by images of rest,The Gallic fugitive, by Conscience driv'n,
To Edric's stately hall his course addrest,
Beneath the midnight frown of angry Heaven;
Already the reproof, by Alfred giv'n,
Fermented deep, and fir'd his haughty mind,
Nor long his passions kept the balance even;
But soon to dark Revenge the scale enclin'd,
Which soon he thought to sate, with haughty Edric join'd.
LVI
Edric was born of Ina's royal blood,Factious in peace, but nameless in the field.
608
Whose eagle-winged merit oft compell'd
The reverence of immortal hate, and held
Her foes in awe; but haughty Edric thought
His elder line, by policy expell'd
From England's throne, and each occasion sought,
By clamour, force, or fraud, to cross the royal vote.
LVII
Astonish'd to behold his look of care,The malecontent receiv'd his midnight guest,
Who told how Alfred, with the morning star,
Meant to convene the Saxon Thanes in haste,
To treat of Eirin's call, by war opprest:
And in ambiguous phrase he seem'd to tell
Some foul concealment lab'ring in his breast;
Some dark design conceiv'd in lowest hell,
And nourish'd by the King, his subjects rights to quell.
LVIII
And Friendship seem'd with Honour to contend,Whether the secret to conceal, or show;
Yet seem'd his keen, expressive look to lend
A dark, malignant light, that led to know
The secret meaning of his smother'd woe.
And flash'd conviction on the kindling mind
Of Ina's heir, who saw a deadly blow,
Or thought he saw, at Liberty design'd,
And many an image foul of latent fraud combin'd.
609
LIX
Again the Lord of Day illum'd the pole,And all the godlike energies of mind;
And all the tyrants of the human soul,
Envy, and Love, and Hope, and Fear, combin'd;
And Intellect, and Fancy, unconfin'd,
Touch'd into being by the heavenly ray,
Rush'd into life, like the imprison'd wind:
And first Juverna's sons prevent the day,
And to the solemn dome pursue their dubious way.
LX
The valves unfold; the Senatorial band,With din confus'd, the solemn passage throng,
And range in order due, on either hand,
Around the throne, with Danish trophies hung.
But soon, by acclamations loud and long,
The coming father of the state was told:
“Father of Freedom! Hail!” from every tongue
Was heard, and myriads crowded to behold
Their King, as down the lines the long procession roll'd.
LXI
Arriv'd, he sate, and soon the mournful soundOf Supplication in the hall was heard;
And soon Juverna's train, with awe profound,
Before the assembled Potentates appear'd;
And told their tale, in deep distress preferr'd;
610
Abroad, with rising hope alternate chear'd,
And fear deprest, while long in close debate,
Britannia's mighty Thanes, with godlike Alfred sate.
LXII
“Fellows in arms,” the placid Monarch said,“Ye hear Ierne's call, her fervent plea;
Her hamlets and her folds in ruin laid,
And desolation spread from sea to sea.
There Odin's sons, elate with victory,
Follow the banners of the ruthless God.
And shall we bear their horrid blasphemy,
That the great founder of our faith, o'eraw'd,
Suffers the savage foe to waste his fair abode?”
LXIII
“To us, who saw reveal'd, his thund'ring armAnd all the pageants of his power display'd
Strong is the solemn call! the loud alarm
That leads us hence, the falling cross to aid!
Nor shall the arduous business be delay'd
By me, nor will I plead my years decline;
Soon shall the wish of England be obey'd,
Whether, in arms, our western friends to join,
Or to some younger Chief, the glorious post resign.”
611
LXIV
First Redowald, in prudent counsels old,Arose, of large and comprehensive mind;
But his tame spirit sunk, by caution cool'd,
And artful schemes, and politics refin'd;
On that sad morning, ere the battles join'd
On Wilton's Moor, his too sagacious care,
Dishearten'd England, while the Dane, combin'd
With bold Mervinia's legions, rush'd to war,
And Mercia lost the day, and fled the field afar.
LXV
“Is there no charm in peace, or peaceful toils,That thus in search of ill we roam the flood,
And wing our way to the surrounding isles,
Like vultures, following far the scent of blood?
For evermore pursuing or pursu'd?—
—The gods, my friends! a floating barrier drew
Around our shores, and built a bulwark rude,
Of cilffs embattled high, in dreadful view,
From England, to repell the bold invasive crew.”
LXVI
“This awful theatre, by nature made,The circle of our glory seems to bound;
612
This little respite seize, in peace profound,
And glad repose, to heal our ancient wound;
Nor dare to tempt the Scandian arms again,
Nor think the trump of fame will cease to sound
Britannia's martial deeds, by land and main,
The triumphs of our King, and Denmark's broken chain.”
LXVII
“O rather let us hear, with ev'ry moon,The noise of battle ring around our coast,
Young Eldred cry'd “Than soil our trophies won,
With torpid sloth, and leave our gallant host
To linger out their lives, to glory lost;
And, in the tempest of the nations, sleep!
Till Denmark, and Norwegia, unopposed,
With their Milesian allies, cross the deep,
The long expected meed of many an age to reap!”
LXVIII
“Should Freedom's call, and warm Compassion fail,With Piety combin'd, your souls to bend;
Yet, let the voice of policy prevail,
Your idle legions, o'er the sea to send,
And, with the sons of Iverdon, defend
The common bounds, 'gainst the common foe.
In vain, alas! with Sitric you contend,
In vain your navies meet with tilting prow,
If sad Ierne sinks beneath the menac'd blow.
613
LXIX
“In vain, old Ocean guards your threat'ned land,With all her chosen terrours frowning round;
In vain your native valour dyes the strand
With Danish blood, returning wound for wound.
If Eirin's breezy hills, and dale's profound,
And flowery lawns, with lowing herds replete,
And mountains blue, with piny chaplets crown'd
Old Denmarks powers renew, and freight her fleet,
While her embosom'd bays afford a safe retreat!”
LXX
“I see, from all her ports, the sable swarmInsult our frontiers, and our fleet repell.
I see her hundred mouths emit the storm,
Like Hecla's Hill, or flaming Mongibel,
Then re-admit them, like the gorge of hell,
When English valour threats the baleful brood!
Till rallying from the long-retreating dell,
Or gloomy grove, with spirit unsubdu'd,
Their legions launch again, and hide the western flood.”
LXXI
“To arms, to arms,” the gallant Esmond cry'd,“And tear from Dania that distinguish'd prize,
614
Or on our walls her sable standard flies.
To us, old Iverdon, for aid applies,
Her homage, our protection best will pay;
Let Hermon's son, by old experience wise,
To England's care, resign the rescu'd prey,
England, accustom'd long to hold the Dane at bay.”
LXXII
“And, who the bloody purchase ought to share,With honourable toil, by England bought?
Who guards the common bulwark of the war,
But she, that saves Milesius' ancient lot,
Free to her sons?”—The whole assembly caught,
With kindling rapture, thunder'd loud applause,
Till Ardulph rose, and audience calm besought;
Ardulph, the friend of man, and Freedom's cause,
Whose steady wisdom still maintain'd her sacred laws.
LXXIII
“Ignoble thought! unworthy Albion's race!—For the poor title to an harrast shore,
To sell our proud alliance, and deface
That blazonry of fame, our fathers wore!
If warlike Hengist, thus, in days of yore,
His mercenary aid, to England sold,
No heavenly precept tam'd her lust of power,
615
No law of sympathy, his proud ambition cool'd!”
LXXIV
“Shall she, like ruffians, on the desart strand,When angry Neptune scales the bending skies,
Forbid the toiling mariner to land,
Heedless of prayers, and agonizing cries,
Unless he gives away the golden prize,
The last, sad relique of his naval hoard?—
O let us yet revere the sacred ties,
That fasten man to man, with firm accord,
Nor cause of obloquy to Alfred's name afford.”
LXXV
He spoke, in murmurs low, the list'ning crowd,Their dubious praise, and mingled censure spoke;
But Edric next, his gloomy aspect show'd,
A soul of sullen fire, that scorn'd the yoke
Of regal sway, nor 'vail'd his lofty look,
To Kesar, or to King, whoever frown'd:
From Landin, late, a dark surmise he took,
Of some foul pest, from Eirin's vales profound,
That aim'd the lofty stem of Liberty to wound.
616
LXXVI
He rose, and in his look defiance flamed,And jealousy, matur'd to lasting hate;
And thus, aloud, the malecontent exclaim'd:
“Ye gallant Thanes! that love Britannia's state,
I see the closure of this deep debate,
Pregnant with ills! I see the fabric fair,
Of Liberty, beneath the whelming weight
Of foreign trophies lost, and needless war,
While ages toil in vain, her ruins to repair!”
LXXVII
“Pardon! thou generous friend to England's weal,Whose strenuous arm, with more than mortal might,
Was seen to check the adamantine wheel,
Turn'd by the daughters of eternal night,
That spun our purple doom! our lowly plight
To laurel'd triumphs, and convivial joys
Thy prowess turn'd! But now a sudden blight,
Sent from the awful Regent of the skies,
Sickens our summer blooms, and all the year destroys.”
LXXVIII
“As some pale warriour, when the fever's fire,With scenes of battle fills the madding brain,
617
To reap the harvest of the bloody plain,
And try the tumult of the field again:
Dreaming his strength return'd, while fell disease
New threds his nerves, and boils in every vain;
Thus, the fair visions of fallacious peace,
Tempts us our arms to try beyond the western seas!”
LXXIX
“Can we forget the foe, whose labour tillsThe Mercian vallies, and the Sunward Mound,
Who colonize along the sable hills
Of Cumberland, and Cheviot's utmost bound,
And Deira's plains to Neptune's stormy sound?—
Half these are Danes, and like the brooding storm,
Wait but the heavenly sign, to spread around
Tumult, and disarray, and loud alarm,
Tho' now they seem withheld by Alfred's dreaded arm.”
LXXX
“I see the living rancour of their eye,(Tho' now beneath the yoke they seem to bend)
Like the red promise of the evening sky,
The tempest of the coming day portend.—
Go now—to Eirin's woods your victims send,
Where ruin lurks in deadly ambush near.
Soon yonder clouds, that on your hills impend,
618
Shall deluge all the plain, and mar the mellow year.”
LXXXI
“Ev'n tho' the terrour of the sanguine scourge,Should hold in awe the oft-defeated foe,
While England's heroes o'er the sable surge,
To green Ierne point the lofty prow;
Yet Conquest calls alike, and Overthrow,
For numerous legions still, and new supplies;
Low droops proud Victory, with faded brow,
And moulted plume, beneath yon weeping skies,
If our too cautious hands the levied aid denies.”
LXXXII
“But, verst in plunder, and the waste of war,The veteran soon will scorn our peaceful toil;
And, should some young, ambitious Prince, prepare
To forge new fetters for his native isle,
The warlike band, enured to annual spoil,
To ruin'd provinces, and scenes of blood;
And us'd to purchase the imperial smile
By moonlight wars, beyond the western flood,
Round the tyrannic flag, with chearful haste will crowd.”
LXXXIII
“Then sad Ierne to his standard won,Shall fling her legions in the Royal scale,
619
Shall waste away, or o'er the bosom pale
Of Ocean, fleet before the rising gale,
To other worlds, beyond the Western Main;
Or, like an hermit, in Mervinia's vale,
Live with the mountain hind and toiling swain,
Their hamlets to protect against the ruffian train.”
LXXXIV
“Our laurel'd Chief, beneath the setting star,Shall teach the conquer'd clans the trade of blood,
And from Ierne lead the moving war,
To pale Britannia, o'er the toiling flood,
A savage foe! while England, overaw'd,
Falls to her parricides an easy prize,
Our choicest blood and treasures sent abroad,
To yonder climes that front the western skies,
In vengeance shall return, with ever new supplies.”
LXXXV
“Thus shall our vital moisture drain away,By parching suns, in deadly blights return,
Or, in contagious vapours blot the day,
While our pale shores the dark Invasion mourn.—
Rather let Eirin fall!—let Tamor burn!—
Or bid their King resume his glory lost,
And snatch the wreath away, by Dania worn
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Against the common foe, to rouse the Celtic host.”
LXXXVI
“Perish the thought!” young Adelmar reply'd,“That Gaul should claim the honourable meed,
The doom of conquered Eirin to decide,
And with presumptuous hand their canvass spread,
On our insulted seas! Let Dania bleed!
Bleed England! Eirin! ere an alien power,
From her blue promontories lift his head,
And looks, with lordly frown, the ocean o'er,
On the proud armaments that line our native shore!”
LXXXVII
Alfred arose, his generous heart was pain'dTo find the sland'rous tongue attaint his fame;
He, whose intrepid hand, so long sustain'd
The drooping glories of Britannia's name.
“My friends,” he cry'd, “No more assert the claim
Of England's glory, or religion's aid,
Since cold Suspicion damps the warriours flame,
And candid Virtue, pines in Envy's shade,
Let Denmark, ar her will, our trembling shores invade!”
LXXXVIII
“Say, is your love of freedom more than mine—Ungrateful men!—but let my deeds defend
621
Those brows again, nor shall the Monarch blend
His peaceful hours, with broils that never end,
For transient glory, which the baleful breath
Of pois'nous envy, to the dust can send,
Or low-born jealousy, whose causeless wrath,
Can touch with ranc'rous gall, the most unblemisht faith.”
LXXXIX
“Let the Milesians tell their harrast lord,That England's warlike thanes, with caution wise,
No longer trust their saviour with the sword,
Deaf to the prayers, the supplicating cries,
Of Iverdon! regardless of the ties
Of pure religion, and a common blood!
For me, I here implore the awful skies,
If Alfred e'er forgot the public good,
Be his detested name with obloquy pursu'd!”
XC
“I too have friends! and soon could turn the tideOf clamorous faction, to demand the war,
Or with my solitary voice, decide
The long debate, and for the field declare!
But my consummate glory well can spare
The test, and much I scorn the little art,
To win my people's vote, by means unfair!
622
I love unbounded sway, and scorn to rule a part!”
XCI
“But ye! bold hearts in vain! whose gen'rous voiceIs all for war, who scorn to wait the foe!
In torpid sloth, beneath your native skies;
But pass the barrier, and prevent the blow!
If still your hearts with native ardour glow,
In voluntary bands, to cross the main,
Go! in the name of martial glory! go!
With ardour new, inspire the harrast train,
And with collected strength, repell the raging Dane!”
XCII
He ceast, and sate; a deep, portentous cloud,The sullen brow of Faction overhung;
But now the hour dismist the martial crowd,
And thro' the op'ning valves, the noble throng,
In deep, unsocial silence, pac'd along.
The sad Milesians stood in dumb despair,
With grief, and generous indignation stung,
To find their hopes of new-enkindled war,
And all their prospects gone, like images of air.—
End of the First Canto
623
A band of Saxon Volunteers, under the command of Albert, a Northumbrian, embark for Ireland, to assert the natives against the Danes: They find peace restored, but are detained in Ulster by contrary winds.
Now Calga's walls they gain'd where Nigel's care,
With genial gifts, delay'd the gallant train;
Their navy now, from Curan's eastern bar
Came round, and now the Saxon Lord again
Resolv'd to man his fleet, and tempt the main,
Since unexpected peace had sheath'd his blade.
With hospitable care, the noble Thane,
From day to day, the gallant youth delay'd,
Till Albert's haste, at length, his fervent prayers outweigh'd.
With genial gifts, delay'd the gallant train;
Their navy now, from Curan's eastern bar
Came round, and now the Saxon Lord again
Resolv'd to man his fleet, and tempt the main,
Since unexpected peace had sheath'd his blade.
With hospitable care, the noble Thane,
From day to day, the gallant youth delay'd,
Till Albert's haste, at length, his fervent prayers outweigh'd.
624
But now, as Heaven ordain'd, the wat'ry star,
Which rules the flood, and bids the tempest rise,
Gave the red signal to the windy war,
And the deep ferment stain'd the angry skies.
The fresh gale sunk, and soon the awful voice
Of the Norwegian wind forbid the sail;
Full thirty days it storm'd: The new allies:
In Nigel'a hall, attend the vocal shell,
That now no more was heard of bloody wars to tell.
Which rules the flood, and bids the tempest rise,
Gave the red signal to the windy war,
And the deep ferment stain'd the angry skies.
The fresh gale sunk, and soon the awful voice
Of the Norwegian wind forbid the sail;
Full thirty days it storm'd: The new allies:
In Nigel'a hall, attend the vocal shell,
That now no more was heard of bloody wars to tell.
O vagrant muse! the wond'rous cause unfold,
Which held Juverna's haughty foe at bay;
And the proud wheels of victory controll'd,
When hapless Iverdon at mercy lay,
And seem'd to wait her doom? Upon a day,
As Sitric led along his weary host,
And thro' Ophalia's woods explor'd his way,
Between two hills, with bow'ry shades embost,
His long laborious march a strange adventure crost.
Which held Juverna's haughty foe at bay;
And the proud wheels of victory controll'd,
When hapless Iverdon at mercy lay,
And seem'd to wait her doom? Upon a day,
As Sitric led along his weary host,
And thro' Ophalia's woods explor'd his way,
Between two hills, with bow'ry shades embost,
His long laborious march a strange adventure crost.
Amid the music of the martial fife,
They heard a pausing strain salute the ear,
Along the vale. But soon, in tuneful strife,
And concert full, arose the anthem clear,
Harmonious psalmody, distinct and near!
And soon emerging full, the cause was seen,
An holy brotherhood, contemning fear,
Led by their Lord, a man of awful mien,
Forsook the gloomy shade, and crost the level green.
They heard a pausing strain salute the ear,
Along the vale. But soon, in tuneful strife,
And concert full, arose the anthem clear,
Harmonious psalmody, distinct and near!
And soon emerging full, the cause was seen,
An holy brotherhood, contemning fear,
625
Forsook the gloomy shade, and crost the level green.
But soon, as by an holy impulse driven,
They wheel'd around, the pagan's march to meet;
Like men, who seem'd to wait the will of Heaven,
Wav'ring, the Scandians stood, nor dar'd to threat
The holy train, who soon, with hasty feet
Arrived, and stood in silence, van to van,
While every heart a falt'ring measure beat;
At length, the leader of the holy clan,
Breaking the solemn pause, in accents slow began.
They wheel'd around, the pagan's march to meet;
Like men, who seem'd to wait the will of Heaven,
Wav'ring, the Scandians stood, nor dar'd to threat
The holy train, who soon, with hasty feet
Arrived, and stood in silence, van to van,
While every heart a falt'ring measure beat;
At length, the leader of the holy clan,
Breaking the solemn pause, in accents slow began.
“Paynim! behold th'inviolable Fair,
The baffled fury of her foes disdains,
From her high battlements, with scornful air,
She waves her hand aloft, and mocks thy pains;
Not her thou tyrant, thy bold voice profanes,
But him who made thee; him, whose sov'reign will,
With matchless patience, still, thine arm sustains,
Thy motions governs, and inspires thy skill,
Tho', oft and oft, forewarn'd, a flagrant rebel still.”
The baffled fury of her foes disdains,
From her high battlements, with scornful air,
She waves her hand aloft, and mocks thy pains;
Not her thou tyrant, thy bold voice profanes,
But him who made thee; him, whose sov'reign will,
With matchless patience, still, thine arm sustains,
Thy motions governs, and inspires thy skill,
Tho', oft and oft, forewarn'd, a flagrant rebel still.”
“Like thee, the minions of thy power blaspheme,
And all thy frantic motions idolize;
Thus, after thee, they chant the baleful theme.
“Ye venerable groves; that proudly rise
“Favorites of Heav'n! usurpers of the skies;
“And you, ye pines! that fan the wint'ry air,
“Whose giant height, the stormy north defies,
“Sublimely waving to the windy war!
“Alas! the edge comes down, which never knew to spare!
And all thy frantic motions idolize;
Thus, after thee, they chant the baleful theme.
626
“Favorites of Heav'n! usurpers of the skies;
“And you, ye pines! that fan the wint'ry air,
“Whose giant height, the stormy north defies,
“Sublimely waving to the windy war!
“Alas! the edge comes down, which never knew to spare!
“Where'er my legions sweep the sandy plain,
“Perennial fountains scarce the draught supply,
“The floods forget their journey to the main,
“And sudden leave their gaping channels dry;
“But hark! blasphemer; to thy lords reply!
“Son of perdition! know thy abject birth,
“Rais'd, like a meteor, to the wondering sky,
“Or, like the whirlwinds of thy native north,
“The rampires of my foes, to level with the earth.
“Perennial fountains scarce the draught supply,
“The floods forget their journey to the main,
“And sudden leave their gaping channels dry;
“But hark! blasphemer; to thy lords reply!
“Son of perdition! know thy abject birth,
“Rais'd, like a meteor, to the wondering sky,
“Or, like the whirlwinds of thy native north,
“The rampires of my foes, to level with the earth.
“For this, my light'nings wither'd all their force,
“For this, their nerveless hands resign'd the spear,
‘As when red Sirius leads the sultry hours,
“And fires to tenfold rage the fervid year!
“They pin'd away, beneath the blast severe,
“Like gray grass, waving o'er the ruin'd wall,
“But now my bridle checks thy mad career;
“Stand! harken! and obey thy sovereign's call,
“Or the horizon round shall tremble at thy fall.”
“For this, their nerveless hands resign'd the spear,
‘As when red Sirius leads the sultry hours,
“And fires to tenfold rage the fervid year!
“They pin'd away, beneath the blast severe,
“Like gray grass, waving o'er the ruin'd wall,
“But now my bridle checks thy mad career;
“Stand! harken! and obey thy sovereign's call,
“Or the horizon round shall tremble at thy fall.”
627
“Slacken thy march, and dread my injur'd name,
“Thou scourge of angry Heaven! thy task is o'er!
“Juverna's Lord, by long affliction tame,
“Acknowledges the rod, and sins no more.
“Thou wast not call'd to lay the realm in gore,
“To sack his towns, and desolate the plain,
“But, by the timely penance to restore
“The chastis'd rebel to his God again,
“And from the spreading taint, to vindicate his reign.
“Thou scourge of angry Heaven! thy task is o'er!
“Juverna's Lord, by long affliction tame,
“Acknowledges the rod, and sins no more.
“Thou wast not call'd to lay the realm in gore,
“To sack his towns, and desolate the plain,
“But, by the timely penance to restore
“The chastis'd rebel to his God again,
“And from the spreading taint, to vindicate his reign.
“That power, whose nod arrests the rolling wave,
“Who rules the whirlwind, and directs the storm;
“Whose sovereign word the dread permission gave,
“Which rous'd to blood thy far destroying arm,
“Now sends his messenger, with mightier charm,
“To take the temper from thy thirsty spear,
“To bid thee sheath the sword, with slaughter warm,
“And from thy brow thy bloody laurel tear;
“Obey the present God, and stop thy mad career!”
“Who rules the whirlwind, and directs the storm;
“Whose sovereign word the dread permission gave,
“Which rous'd to blood thy far destroying arm,
“Now sends his messenger, with mightier charm,
“To take the temper from thy thirsty spear,
“To bid thee sheath the sword, with slaughter warm,
“And from thy brow thy bloody laurel tear;
“Obey the present God, and stop thy mad career!”
“Dreamer! avaunt!” the haughty Monarch cries,
“Nor tempt the sword that spares thy trembling age.”
“O thou, whose volleying thunder shakes the skies,”
The sage exclaims, “behold the Scandian's rage,
“And bid the heav'nly truth his heart engage:
“Struck by that hand, which caus'd the rock to flow,
“Let thy descending peace his fury suage,
“And teach the haughty rebel to forego
“The blood-stain'd diadem, that binds his haughty brow.”
“Nor tempt the sword that spares thy trembling age.”
“O thou, whose volleying thunder shakes the skies,”
The sage exclaims, “behold the Scandian's rage,
“And bid the heav'nly truth his heart engage:
“Struck by that hand, which caus'd the rock to flow,
“Let thy descending peace his fury suage,
628
“The blood-stain'd diadem, that binds his haughty brow.”
“Look up! fond man, and see the heav'nly sign,
That shews how soon thy glories fleet away!”
Just then, so well the brotherhood divine
Had tim'd their message; o'er the orb of day,
A dim eclipse began its gradual way,
And ominous ev'ning, o'er the prospect clos'd,
In slow solemnity, while deep dismay,
In horror, stole along the Danish host,
As Day's bright chariot hung in total darkness lost.
That shews how soon thy glories fleet away!”
Just then, so well the brotherhood divine
Had tim'd their message; o'er the orb of day,
A dim eclipse began its gradual way,
And ominous ev'ning, o'er the prospect clos'd,
In slow solemnity, while deep dismay,
In horror, stole along the Danish host,
As Day's bright chariot hung in total darkness lost.
The plumy choirs their sprightly carols ceast,
And to th'asylum of the grove withdrew;
And the wild woodland tenants went to rest,
While the bright marshal of the starry crew,
Undazzled by the day, look'd out to view,
The dread defection of the solar light;
And now, the sacred bands began anew,
Their solemn descant, like the bird of night,
That chears the lonely hours, remov'd from mortal sight.
And to th'asylum of the grove withdrew;
And the wild woodland tenants went to rest,
While the bright marshal of the starry crew,
Undazzled by the day, look'd out to view,
The dread defection of the solar light;
And now, the sacred bands began anew,
Their solemn descant, like the bird of night,
That chears the lonely hours, remov'd from mortal sight.
No murmurs thro' the shadowy host was heard,
In holy horrour to the raptur'd strain;
List'ning: At last a dubious glimpse appear'd,
Of Sol, emerging from the dark domain
Of Cynthia's orb, but then, the gladsome train,
Chorus'd the light in Hallelujahs high:
“Thus, thus, shall Faith and Freedom gild again,
The wide horizon round with light and joy,
When Dania's storms overblown, shall leave the light'n'd sky.”
In holy horrour to the raptur'd strain;
List'ning: At last a dubious glimpse appear'd,
Of Sol, emerging from the dark domain
629
Chorus'd the light in Hallelujahs high:
“Thus, thus, shall Faith and Freedom gild again,
The wide horizon round with light and joy,
When Dania's storms overblown, shall leave the light'n'd sky.”
'Twas then, the Pagan van began to melt,
And down their polish'd arms, repentant, flung;
Soon either wing the soft infection felt,
Which run, like lambent flame, the ranks along;
Till all in tears dissolv'd, the martial throng,
As if they meant to wash their stains away,
Around the holy man imploring throng,
And for th'initial rite began to pray,
To purge the taint of sin, which yet infecting lay.
And down their polish'd arms, repentant, flung;
Soon either wing the soft infection felt,
Which run, like lambent flame, the ranks along;
Till all in tears dissolv'd, the martial throng,
As if they meant to wash their stains away,
Around the holy man imploring throng,
And for th'initial rite began to pray,
To purge the taint of sin, which yet infecting lay.
And first, the monarch dofft his shining mail,
And first, the limpid stream obedient sought,
Which stole in murmurs down the shady vale,
Perennial spring! with cooling treasures fraught,
Then all assembling round the sacred spot;
The band, alternate, share the cleaning rite,
Successive, by the holy brethren taught,
Those truths, that broke the gloom of ancient night
And chear'd the darken'd soul with intellectual light.
And first, the limpid stream obedient sought,
Which stole in murmurs down the shady vale,
Perennial spring! with cooling treasures fraught,
Then all assembling round the sacred spot;
The band, alternate, share the cleaning rite,
Successive, by the holy brethren taught,
Those truths, that broke the gloom of ancient night
And chear'd the darken'd soul with intellectual light.
Now Fame, that us'd of bloody broils to tell,
The welcome news, to Eirin's Monarch bore,
What wond'rous chance, the royal Dane befell,
Met by his Saviour in the desart hoar.
And he, profuse so late of human gore,
Seem'd to renounce the desolating trade,
A Christian now! a man of blood no more!
Compell'd to sheath, his far-destroying blade,
By him, whose sovereign word the rising tempest laid.
The welcome news, to Eirin's Monarch bore,
630
Met by his Saviour in the desart hoar.
And he, profuse so late of human gore,
Seem'd to renounce the desolating trade,
A Christian now! a man of blood no more!
Compell'd to sheath, his far-destroying blade,
By him, whose sovereign word the rising tempest laid.
Soon more than Rumour told the wond'rous tale,
For now, to Eirin's King, an Envoy came,
From the new convert in the sacred vale,
Whose message stampt the vague report of Fame;
Peace he propos'd, in royal Sitric's name,
And amicable league to Eirin's Lord,
With a fair pledge of peace, the northern Dane;
Sweet Eleanor, by rival Kings ador'd,
But for himself reserv'd the conquests of the sword.
For now, to Eirin's King, an Envoy came,
From the new convert in the sacred vale,
Whose message stampt the vague report of Fame;
Peace he propos'd, in royal Sitric's name,
And amicable league to Eirin's Lord,
With a fair pledge of peace, the northern Dane;
Sweet Eleanor, by rival Kings ador'd,
But for himself reserv'd the conquests of the sword.
Not all the darts of love are tip'd with lead;
Not all to low pursuits the bosom fire;
But oft with generous thoughts, the mind they feed,
And fervent thirst of genuine fame inspire,
Far from the Syren glance, ye youths retire,
Which leads to shame; but when the heav'nly boy,
Fanns, with his purple wings, the proud desire
Of honest fame, the bold adventure try,
And labour to obtain the plaudit of the sky!
Not all to low pursuits the bosom fire;
But oft with generous thoughts, the mind they feed,
And fervent thirst of genuine fame inspire,
631
Which leads to shame; but when the heav'nly boy,
Fanns, with his purple wings, the proud desire
Of honest fame, the bold adventure try,
And labour to obtain the plaudit of the sky!
The one is common to the savage kind,
The lion's fury, and the panther's flame,
The other dignified by love of mind,
A nobler origin is known to claim,
When min'd, by lapse of time, the mundane frame,
And all its perishable scenes decay,
Thou still shalt live, immortal, and the same
In the high noon of everlasting day,
And all the blest above confess thy potent sway.
The lion's fury, and the panther's flame,
The other dignified by love of mind,
A nobler origin is known to claim,
When min'd, by lapse of time, the mundane frame,
And all its perishable scenes decay,
Thou still shalt live, immortal, and the same
In the high noon of everlasting day,
And all the blest above confess thy potent sway.
A youth there was, of Gothmund's warlike train,
Who, not by lucre led, nor thirst of blood,
But love of glory, past the northern main,
And foremost still in front of danger stood,
The first to scale the wall, to pass the flood,
To dare the ambush, or the camp explore;
But when the royal Dane, by Heav'n subdu'd,
Had seem'd to give the trade of slaughter o'er,
His hours he pass'd in peace, on Senu's gentle shore.
Who, not by lucre led, nor thirst of blood,
But love of glory, past the northern main,
And foremost still in front of danger stood,
The first to scale the wall, to pass the flood,
To dare the ambush, or the camp explore;
But when the royal Dane, by Heav'n subdu'd,
Had seem'd to give the trade of slaughter o'er,
His hours he pass'd in peace, on Senu's gentle shore.
It chanc'd, as wand'ring at the close of light,
Along the mazes of a solemn grove,
When settling o'er the shade, approaching night,
Her gentle glooms with easy finger wove,
O'er ev'ry ally green, and gay alcove;
He heard, afar, a lamentable strain,
Of some benighted traveller, who strove
To scape the hand of violence, in vain,
And now with piercing cries the forest rang again.
Along the mazes of a solemn grove,
632
Her gentle glooms with easy finger wove,
O'er ev'ry ally green, and gay alcove;
He heard, afar, a lamentable strain,
Of some benighted traveller, who strove
To scape the hand of violence, in vain,
And now with piercing cries the forest rang again.
He hurried on, instructed by his ear,
And soon the soul-affecting cause beheld,
A young Milesian virgin, lovely, fair,
With her attendant maids, by ruffians held,
Of Scandian race, who prowl'd the nightly field,
Like famish'd wolves, to seize their feeble prey,
But soon the sword of Theodolfe, compell'd
The lawless sons of spoil to haste away,
Like the nocturnal crew, which shun the eye of day.
And soon the soul-affecting cause beheld,
A young Milesian virgin, lovely, fair,
With her attendant maids, by ruffians held,
Of Scandian race, who prowl'd the nightly field,
Like famish'd wolves, to seize their feeble prey,
But soon the sword of Theodolfe, compell'd
The lawless sons of spoil to haste away,
Like the nocturnal crew, which shun the eye of day.
She thank'd the gallant youth, with grateful tears,
And at his warm request her lineage told;
Her ancestors, in Eirins golden years,
Ansoba's sons with gentle sway controll'd,
Now in a neighb'ring vale, her parent old,
The reliques of his ancient state possest,
Since cruel Dania chang'd the times of gold,
And claim'd the flow'ry borders of the west,
To hapless Iverdon, a dire, unwelcome guest.
And at his warm request her lineage told;
Her ancestors, in Eirins golden years,
Ansoba's sons with gentle sway controll'd,
Now in a neighb'ring vale, her parent old,
The reliques of his ancient state possest,
Since cruel Dania chang'd the times of gold,
And claim'd the flow'ry borders of the west,
To hapless Iverdon, a dire, unwelcome guest.
633
The gallant Theodolfe the virgin led,
To the near mansion of her aged sire;
The sire, with hospitable rites, delay'd
The saviour of his child, while young Desire
Fann'd in the warriour's heart the latent fire.
The father saw, and hail'd the growing flame;
Fair Emma felt her gratitude inspire
A correspondent glow, but maiden shame,
And inborn dignity the infant wish o'ercame.
To the near mansion of her aged sire;
The sire, with hospitable rites, delay'd
The saviour of his child, while young Desire
Fann'd in the warriour's heart the latent fire.
The father saw, and hail'd the growing flame;
Fair Emma felt her gratitude inspire
A correspondent glow, but maiden shame,
And inborn dignity the infant wish o'ercame.
But soon the sire, in pity to the pair,
And won to yield, by Theodolfe's request,
Prevents the wishes of the conscious fair,
And tells the passion of his noble guest,
The lover oft before his suit had prest;
But still, with soft denial, to her sire
The maid referr'd; but when the youth confest
To the benignant man his warm desire,
He soon his sanction gave, and blest the sacred fire.
And won to yield, by Theodolfe's request,
Prevents the wishes of the conscious fair,
And tells the passion of his noble guest,
The lover oft before his suit had prest;
But still, with soft denial, to her sire
The maid referr'd; but when the youth confest
To the benignant man his warm desire,
He soon his sanction gave, and blest the sacred fire.
Their faith seem'd one, the pure baptismal rite,
The noble convert with his King had shar'd;
The maid consents, and soon his sacred light,
With chearful haste, the nuptial god prepar'd.
—Oh! let the holy rite be yet deferr'd,
Unhappy sire! till Tamor's Feast be o'er,
While Sitric veils his fraud, with double guard:
But soon, the genial board shall float in gore,
And strife the signal sound to Eirin's furthest shore.
[OMITTED]
The noble convert with his King had shar'd;
The maid consents, and soon his sacred light,
With chearful haste, the nuptial god prepar'd.
—Oh! let the holy rite be yet deferr'd,
Unhappy sire! till Tamor's Feast be o'er,
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But soon, the genial board shall float in gore,
And strife the signal sound to Eirin's furthest shore.
—Why hangs the husband o'er yon fatal scroll,
While streaming tears his infant joys profane?
Why does he gaze in agony of soul,
On the fair links of yonder golden chain,
Giv'n by his lovely bride, but giv'n in vain?
Alas! a stronger link of holy dread
Fetters his mind.—But oh! illustrious Dane,
Yet ere the moment of escape be fled,
Preserve thy lovely spouse, and sire's devoted head!
While streaming tears his infant joys profane?
Why does he gaze in agony of soul,
On the fair links of yonder golden chain,
Giv'n by his lovely bride, but giv'n in vain?
Alas! a stronger link of holy dread
Fetters his mind.—But oh! illustrious Dane,
Yet ere the moment of escape be fled,
Preserve thy lovely spouse, and sire's devoted head!
But now, with wild alarm, his lovely spouse
Perceives the tempest of the hero's breast;
How fast the tide of passion ebbs and flows,
How oft by dark despondence lull'd to rest.
With suppliant tears, the lovely mourner prest
The secret of his swelling grief to know,
And thus, at length, the conquer'd youth addrest
His spouse, tho' oft the storm of bursting woe,
And sorrow's bitter show'r forbad the cause to show.
Perceives the tempest of the hero's breast;
How fast the tide of passion ebbs and flows,
How oft by dark despondence lull'd to rest.
With suppliant tears, the lovely mourner prest
The secret of his swelling grief to know,
And thus, at length, the conquer'd youth addrest
His spouse, tho' oft the storm of bursting woe,
And sorrow's bitter show'r forbad the cause to show.
“Lost! lost, alas! beyond my power to save,
I now must leave whate'er I hold most dear,
Leave her, perhaps, to fill the gloomy grave,
And I, unhappy I, am doom'd to bear
A share in Eirin's woes!” alarm'd to hear
His words, and his impassion'd looks to see;
Again she pray'd her noble spouse to clear
The secret of the deadly embassy,
By every soothing art, and every tender plea.
I now must leave whate'er I hold most dear,
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And I, unhappy I, am doom'd to bear
A share in Eirin's woes!” alarm'd to hear
His words, and his impassion'd looks to see;
Again she pray'd her noble spouse to clear
The secret of the deadly embassy,
By every soothing art, and every tender plea.
“Alas,” he cry'd, “the final blow is given,
Which seals the doom of this devoted land;
The signal of her fall is seen in heaven,
And Odin triumphs o'er the bloody strand,
The horrid business, long by Sitric plann'd,
Is ripe at last, and labours to a close—
Ev'n now, perhaps, he gives the stern command,
From Tamor's hall to let destruction loose,
Careless of obloquy and violated vows!”
Which seals the doom of this devoted land;
The signal of her fall is seen in heaven,
And Odin triumphs o'er the bloody strand,
The horrid business, long by Sitric plann'd,
Is ripe at last, and labours to a close—
Ev'n now, perhaps, he gives the stern command,
From Tamor's hall to let destruction loose,
Careless of obloquy and violated vows!”
“Oh could my single hand avert our doom!—
But cruel Honour, link'd with Fate, denies;
How sweet, with you, in distant climes to roam,
And spend our days beneath more gentle skies;
But oh! the martial oath, the hallow'd ties
That binds with more than adamantine force
The warriours soul!—Oh Heav'ns! the flames arise,
Yonder the sign of blood ascending soars,
Haste! haste! your instant flight! and quit those deadly shores!”
But cruel Honour, link'd with Fate, denies;
How sweet, with you, in distant climes to roam,
And spend our days beneath more gentle skies;
But oh! the martial oath, the hallow'd ties
That binds with more than adamantine force
The warriours soul!—Oh Heav'ns! the flames arise,
Yonder the sign of blood ascending soars,
Haste! haste! your instant flight! and quit those deadly shores!”
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'Twas night, the father, and the weeping fair,
With a few trusty slaves, the hero led,
Down to the shore, but watchful Hinguar, there,
All round his cruel sentinels had spread,
And soon they met the deadly ambuscade:
Short was their strife, and threats and pray'rs, in vain,
The youth employ'd: in vain, he oft display'd
His faithful service to the royal Dane,
The captive pair were led to join the sentenc'd train.
With a few trusty slaves, the hero led,
Down to the shore, but watchful Hinguar, there,
All round his cruel sentinels had spread,
And soon they met the deadly ambuscade:
Short was their strife, and threats and pray'rs, in vain,
The youth employ'd: in vain, he oft display'd
His faithful service to the royal Dane,
The captive pair were led to join the sentenc'd train.
Gothmund arriv'd; in vain the youth implor'd,
The reverend father, and the fair, to free,
Immortal hate inspir'd the haughty Lord,
For Theodolfe's unshaken amity
To Eugene well he knew, and spurn'd his plea.
The hapless husband, struck with pale despair,
Stood for a while, in speechless agony,
Then sought (a slender boon) to see the fair,
For her tremendous doom, his Emma to prepare.
The reverend father, and the fair, to free,
Immortal hate inspir'd the haughty Lord,
For Theodolfe's unshaken amity
To Eugene well he knew, and spurn'd his plea.
The hapless husband, struck with pale despair,
Stood for a while, in speechless agony,
Then sought (a slender boon) to see the fair,
For her tremendous doom, his Emma to prepare.
Gothmund agreed, but hell inspir'd the thought,
To rend the bleeding heart with anguish new,
Then to the gloomy jail, the youth was brought,
Where Emma sate, retir'd from mortal view.
The awful scene to come, had chang'd her hue,
To saintly pale, yet still peculiar grace
Liv'd in her look, and deeper homage drew,
Than when the rose of health adorn'd her face,
For somewhat seem'd her mind, above its lot to raise.
To rend the bleeding heart with anguish new,
Then to the gloomy jail, the youth was brought,
Where Emma sate, retir'd from mortal view.
The awful scene to come, had chang'd her hue,
To saintly pale, yet still peculiar grace
Liv'd in her look, and deeper homage drew,
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For somewhat seem'd her mind, above its lot to raise.
Her hands were clasp'd, but not in guilty grief,
Not, like a Magdalene, she rais'd her eye
With penitential tears, to beg relief—
Nor heav'd her bosom with one fearful sigh,
But, like a winged virtue, sent from high,
To this bad world, to walk the fated round,
She seem'd to meditate the op'ning sky,
As one on heaven's eternal voyage bound,
By fiery instinct rais'd to spurn the sordid ground.
Not, like a Magdalene, she rais'd her eye
With penitential tears, to beg relief—
Nor heav'd her bosom with one fearful sigh,
But, like a winged virtue, sent from high,
To this bad world, to walk the fated round,
She seem'd to meditate the op'ning sky,
As one on heaven's eternal voyage bound,
By fiery instinct rais'd to spurn the sordid ground.
But when he came, the angel left her look,
And all the woman rush'd upon her soul;
Her Heav'n-aspiring mind, awhile forsook
Her fiery-winged friends above the pole,
And mingled grief, and love connubial stole
In tears away “and do the fates allow
This boon,” she cry'd “before I reach the goal,
To see the partner of my bliss below,
Ere yet my parting soul the cares of life forego.”
And all the woman rush'd upon her soul;
Her Heav'n-aspiring mind, awhile forsook
Her fiery-winged friends above the pole,
And mingled grief, and love connubial stole
In tears away “and do the fates allow
This boon,” she cry'd “before I reach the goal,
To see the partner of my bliss below,
Ere yet my parting soul the cares of life forego.”
He clasp'd the weeping fair, and “yet,” he cry'd,
“A moment is allow'd, a slender space,
Yet, ere it fleet, thy lover's fate decide,
If mutual love, or length of happy days,
Or my eternal peace with Emma weighs;
Renounce the cross! and quit the sentenc'd train,
While Sitric, yet, the fatal word delays;
Proud Gothmund then may storm, but storm in vain,
To see his rescued prey contemn the broken chain.
“A moment is allow'd, a slender space,
Yet, ere it fleet, thy lover's fate decide,
If mutual love, or length of happy days,
Or my eternal peace with Emma weighs;
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While Sitric, yet, the fatal word delays;
Proud Gothmund then may storm, but storm in vain,
To see his rescued prey contemn the broken chain.
“Think what a triumph to the Dane is giv'n,
What savage joy, to see his ancient hate
Against thy husband, seal'd by angry Heaven,
And his deep malice fed by Emma's fate.
Oh Emma! think, before 'tis yet too late;
Renounce the cross; and disappoint his wrath,
Revere thy fire! revere thy mourning mate,
Nor leave thy constant Theodolfe, beneath,
To drag a hated life, nor dare to 'venge thy death.”
What savage joy, to see his ancient hate
Against thy husband, seal'd by angry Heaven,
And his deep malice fed by Emma's fate.
Oh Emma! think, before 'tis yet too late;
Renounce the cross; and disappoint his wrath,
Revere thy fire! revere thy mourning mate,
Nor leave thy constant Theodolfe, beneath,
To drag a hated life, nor dare to 'venge thy death.”
He ceast, for sparkling indignation warm,
Lived in her look, and light'ned in her eye,
A heav'nly glow inhancing every charm;
“And is it thus you break the dearer tye,
That bound us with the sanction of the sky:
O bitterness of death! exalted pain!
I thought, when fortune dash'd my cup of joy,
This single consolation might remain,
To find us link'd above, in pure Emmanuel's reign.
Lived in her look, and light'ned in her eye,
A heav'nly glow inhancing every charm;
“And is it thus you break the dearer tye,
That bound us with the sanction of the sky:
O bitterness of death! exalted pain!
I thought, when fortune dash'd my cup of joy,
This single consolation might remain,
To find us link'd above, in pure Emmanuel's reign.
“Immortal guardians, thro' the dreadful test
Sustain my virtue, and my faith uphold;
For what is virtue, when the tranquil breast
Nor tryal knows, to purge the genuine gold
From earthly dross.—O negligent and cold,
To pure enjoyment, and the charms of mind;
I thought thy manly spirit, uncontroll'd,
Had left the accidents of life behind,
And each sublunar chance, to mortal man assign'd!”
Sustain my virtue, and my faith uphold;
For what is virtue, when the tranquil breast
Nor tryal knows, to purge the genuine gold
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To pure enjoyment, and the charms of mind;
I thought thy manly spirit, uncontroll'd,
Had left the accidents of life behind,
And each sublunar chance, to mortal man assign'd!”
“And what is life, my Theodolfe,” she cry'd,
“Without the heart-felt joy, the heavenly glow,
Of self-acquittance, rais'd by virtuous pride,
O'er every transitory chance below?
Shall I survive, the final overthrow
Of conscience, reason, and eternal truth,
To feel the viewless sting of endless woe,
Above the pow'r of ought on earth to soothe;
Ah! lure me not to shame! mistaken, generous youth, &c.”
“Without the heart-felt joy, the heavenly glow,
Of self-acquittance, rais'd by virtuous pride,
O'er every transitory chance below?
Shall I survive, the final overthrow
Of conscience, reason, and eternal truth,
To feel the viewless sting of endless woe,
Above the pow'r of ought on earth to soothe;
Ah! lure me not to shame! mistaken, generous youth, &c.”
End of the Specimen.
Christian Law, so called from the famous gospel precept—Do unto others as you would they should do unto you.
Then follows an account of the division and allotment of a portion of the conquered country to the Dane, and the preparations for the royal nuptials. Suspicion of treachery, on the side of the Dane, entertained by Negil, and his dispute in the Milesian Senate, with Colmar, on the subject. The commencement of the story of Theodolfe and Emma concludes the Specimen.
| Poems, chiefly dramatic and lyric | |