The Poetical Works of Hector MacNeill ... A New Edition, Corrected and Enlarged. In Two Volumes |
 | I. |
| II. |
 | The Poetical Works of Hector MacNeill |  |
5
THE HARP, A LEGENDARY TALE.
IN TWO PARTS.
Smeirg a loisgeadh a thiompan ria.
7
PART I.
Still'd is the tempest's blust'ring roar;
Hoarse dash the billows of the sea;—
But who on Kilda's dismal shore
Cries—“Have I burnt my Harp for thee!”
Hoarse dash the billows of the sea;—
But who on Kilda's dismal shore
Cries—“Have I burnt my Harp for thee!”
'Tis Col, wild raving to the gale,
That howls o'er heath, and blasted lea;
Still as he eyes the lessening sail,
Cries—“Have I burnt my Harp for thee!”—
That howls o'er heath, and blasted lea;
Still as he eyes the lessening sail,
Cries—“Have I burnt my Harp for thee!”—
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—Bright was thy fame in Bara's isle,
Sweet bard! where many a rival sung;
Oft hadst thou waked the tear and smile,
As soft thy Harp melodious rung:
Sweet bard! where many a rival sung;
Oft hadst thou waked the tear and smile,
As soft thy Harp melodious rung:
Oft hadst thou touched the female heart,
(To love, I ween! and pity true)
Till Mora came to hear thy art;—
Mora, with eye of softening blue.
(To love, I ween! and pity true)
Till Mora came to hear thy art;—
Mora, with eye of softening blue.
The maid he prized above the throng,
That pressed to hear his raptured strain;—
The maid, who melted at the song,
But trifled with a lover's pain:
That pressed to hear his raptured strain;—
The maid, who melted at the song,
But trifled with a lover's pain:
9
Long had he borne the treach'rous smile,
That cherished hope, and left despair;
The promised bliss, which female guile
As oft dispersed in empty air;
That cherished hope, and left despair;
The promised bliss, which female guile
As oft dispersed in empty air;
Till shunned by every constant maid;
Condemned by friends; by kindred prest;
Deceitful thus, in smiles arrayed,
Mora the sorrowing youth addrest:
Condemned by friends; by kindred prest;
Deceitful thus, in smiles arrayed,
Mora the sorrowing youth addrest:
“Too long, O Col! in plaintive moan
Thou'st strung thy Harp to strains divine;—
Add but two strings of varied tone,
This heart, this yielding heart, is thine.”
Thou'st strung thy Harp to strains divine;—
Add but two strings of varied tone,
This heart, this yielding heart, is thine.”
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Two strings the youth, with anxious care,
Half doubtful, to his Harp applies;
And oft, in vain, he turns each air,
And oft each varying note he tries;
Half doubtful, to his Harp applies;
And oft, in vain, he turns each air,
And oft each varying note he tries;
At length (unrivalled in his art!)
With new-born sounds the valley rings;—
Col claims his Mora's promised heart,
As deep he strikes the varied strings!
With new-born sounds the valley rings;—
Col claims his Mora's promised heart,
As deep he strikes the varied strings!
Three moons, three honied moons, are past
Since Col, enraptured, laughed at care:
And oft the tuneful Harp he blest,
That won a nymph so good and fair:
Since Col, enraptured, laughed at care:
And oft the tuneful Harp he blest,
That won a nymph so good and fair:
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Till mindful of those tender ties,
That fashion's sons would blush to name;
With softened voice, and melting sighs,
He thus accosts his peerless dame:
That fashion's sons would blush to name;
With softened voice, and melting sighs,
He thus accosts his peerless dame:
“Three months, dear partner of my bliss!
Three fleeting months have shed their charms,
Since first I snatched the bridal kiss,
And clasped perfection to my arms:
Three fleeting months have shed their charms,
Since first I snatched the bridal kiss,
And clasped perfection to my arms:
“Yet happiness, however true,
Must fade, if selfish and confined;—
Your friends now claim affections due;
The kindred transports of the mind!
Must fade, if selfish and confined;—
Your friends now claim affections due;
The kindred transports of the mind!
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“Each parent mourns our cold delay;
They think of Mora with a tear:
The gale invites—at early day
To Cana's sea-beat shore we steer.”
They think of Mora with a tear:
The gale invites—at early day
To Cana's sea-beat shore we steer.”
The morn blushed fair; mild blew the gale;
The lark to heaven light warbling springs;
Col smiles with love, spreads quick the sail,
And sweeps with ravished heart the strings!
The lark to heaven light warbling springs;
Col smiles with love, spreads quick the sail,
And sweeps with ravished heart the strings!
But ah! how short the transient gleams,
That light with joy the human breast!—
The tempest raves, and wildly screams
Each frighted sea-fowl to her nest.
That light with joy the human breast!—
The tempest raves, and wildly screams
Each frighted sea-fowl to her nest.
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High rage the billows of the deep,
That lately rolled serenely mild,
And dashed near Kilda's awful steep;
Col clasps his love with horror wild.
That lately rolled serenely mild,
And dashed near Kilda's awful steep;
Col clasps his love with horror wild.
For cold's the form, o'er which he hung
With raptured eye the morn before;
And mute and tuneless is the tongue,
That charmed so late on Bara's shore;
With raptured eye the morn before;
And mute and tuneless is the tongue,
That charmed so late on Bara's shore;
And pale and lifeless is the cheek,
That glowed so late with rosy hue;
The eye, that melting joys could speak,
Is closed!—the eye of soft'ning blue.
That glowed so late with rosy hue;
The eye, that melting joys could speak,
Is closed!—the eye of soft'ning blue.
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Hard with the furious surge he strove,
His love and fav'rite Harp to save;
Till deep in Crona's sea-worn cove,
He bears them safe from storm and wave.
His love and fav'rite Harp to save;
Till deep in Crona's sea-worn cove,
He bears them safe from storm and wave.
But cove, nor love's assiduous care
Could ebbing life's warm tide restore!—
Pale, wet, and speechless lay the fair
On Kilda's bleak and stormy shore.
Could ebbing life's warm tide restore!—
Pale, wet, and speechless lay the fair
On Kilda's bleak and stormy shore.
Oft, oft her breathless lips of clay
With frantic cries he fondly prest;
And while a senseless corse she lay,
He strained her madly to his breast.—
With frantic cries he fondly prest;
And while a senseless corse she lay,
He strained her madly to his breast.—
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But who can paint with pencil true
The scene, when sighs first struggling stole
(Which thus by magic love he drew)
Deep lab'ring from her fluttering soul!
The scene, when sighs first struggling stole
(Which thus by magic love he drew)
Deep lab'ring from her fluttering soul!
“She breathes!—she lives!” the minstrel cried,
“Life has not fled this beauteous form!—
Protecting heaven, some aid provide!—
Shield—shield my trembler from the storm!
“Life has not fled this beauteous form!—
Protecting heaven, some aid provide!—
Shield—shield my trembler from the storm!
“No roof its friendly smoke displays!—
No storm-scaped faggot, turf, nor tree—
No shrub to yield one kindly blaze,
And warm my love to life and me!
No storm-scaped faggot, turf, nor tree—
No shrub to yield one kindly blaze,
And warm my love to life and me!
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“Dark grows the night!—and cold and sharp
Beat wind, and hail, and drenching rain!
Nought else remains—I'll burn my Harp!”
He cries, and breaks his Harp in twain.
Beat wind, and hail, and drenching rain!
Nought else remains—I'll burn my Harp!”
He cries, and breaks his Harp in twain.
“For thee, O Mora! oft it rung,
To guard thee from each rival's art;
And now, though broken and unstrung,
It guards from death thy constant heart.”
To guard thee from each rival's art;
And now, though broken and unstrung,
It guards from death thy constant heart.”
Bright flamed the fragments as he spoke;
One parting sigh his Harp he gave:
The storm-drenched faggots blaze through smoke,
And snatch his Mora from the grave.
One parting sigh his Harp he gave:
The storm-drenched faggots blaze through smoke,
And snatch his Mora from the grave.
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PART II.
Now heedless raved the stormy night,
For instant terror frowned no more,
And cheerful blazed the spreading light
Round Kilda's dark and dismal shore;
For instant terror frowned no more,
And cheerful blazed the spreading light
Round Kilda's dark and dismal shore;
And cheerful smiled the grateful pair,
And talked of death and dangers past,—
When loud the voice of wild despair
Came rushing on the midnight blast.
And talked of death and dangers past,—
When loud the voice of wild despair
Came rushing on the midnight blast.
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Chill horror seized each lover's heart.—
“Ah me! what dismal sounds draw near!—
Defend us, heaven!” with sudden start
Cried Mora, thrilled with frantic fear.
“Ah me! what dismal sounds draw near!—
Defend us, heaven!” with sudden start
Cried Mora, thrilled with frantic fear.
One hand supports his trembling wife,
The other grasps his trusty glave;
“My Harp,” he cries, “has given thee life,
And this, that precious life shall save!”
The other grasps his trusty glave;
“My Harp,” he cries, “has given thee life,
And this, that precious life shall save!”
“No danger comes,” deep sighed a form,
As near the cave it shiv'ring stood;
“A stranger, shipwrecked by the storm,
Implores the gen'rous and the good;
As near the cave it shiv'ring stood;
“A stranger, shipwrecked by the storm,
Implores the gen'rous and the good;
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“No danger comes—ah me! forlorn!
A wretch by woes and tempests tost!—
From love, from friends, and kindred torn,
And dashed on Kilda's frightful coast!
A wretch by woes and tempests tost!—
From love, from friends, and kindred torn,
And dashed on Kilda's frightful coast!
“Restless with grief, at op'ning day
For Lewis' isle I spread the sail;
Sweet rose the lark with cheerful lay,
And sweetly blew the flatt'ring gale!
For Lewis' isle I spread the sail;
Sweet rose the lark with cheerful lay,
And sweetly blew the flatt'ring gale!
“Ah fate relentless! thus to cheat
With baneful lure and treach'rous smile!—
Were human suff'rings not complete
Till wrecked on Kilda's desert isle!
With baneful lure and treach'rous smile!—
Were human suff'rings not complete
Till wrecked on Kilda's desert isle!
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“Lured by the light that gleams afar,
With fainting steps these cliffs I prest:—
O! may it prove a polar star,
And guide to pity's shelt'ring breast!”
With fainting steps these cliffs I prest:—
O! may it prove a polar star,
And guide to pity's shelt'ring breast!”
Quick from his grasp the falchion flies,
As Col each opening arm extends;
“Approach, ill fated youth!” he cries,
“Here—here are none but suff'ring friends!
As Col each opening arm extends;
“Approach, ill fated youth!” he cries,
“Here—here are none but suff'ring friends!
“Like thee, we hailed the matin song,
The flatt'ring gale, and faithless tide!—
How sweet! by zephyrs borne along,
My Harp and Mora by my side!
The flatt'ring gale, and faithless tide!—
How sweet! by zephyrs borne along,
My Harp and Mora by my side!
21
“Why starts the youth?—approach—draw near.
Behold the wreck of storm and wave.—
'Tis all that's left—my Harp so dear
I burned, that fair one's life to save!”
Behold the wreck of storm and wave.—
'Tis all that's left—my Harp so dear
I burned, that fair one's life to save!”
First pale, then crimson grew his cheek,
And sorely shook his manly frame!
His fault'ring tongue refused to speak,
Save to repeat his Mora's name—
And sorely shook his manly frame!
His fault'ring tongue refused to speak,
Save to repeat his Mora's name—
A name, which oft had charmed his ear,
And e'en from childhood grew more sweet;
A name, which love had rendered dear,
And sorrow taught him to repeat!
And e'en from childhood grew more sweet;
A name, which love had rendered dear,
And sorrow taught him to repeat!
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Long had he nursed the kindling flame,
Long, long possessed her virgin heart;
But party feuds and discord came,
And forced the tend'rest pair to part.
Long, long possessed her virgin heart;
But party feuds and discord came,
And forced the tend'rest pair to part.
Torn hapless thus from all he loved,
The wretched wand'rer left his home;
From isle to isle incessant roved;—
His only wish—to idly roam!
The wretched wand'rer left his home;
From isle to isle incessant roved;—
His only wish—to idly roam!
Oft had he braved the tempest's war,
Unaided in his slender bark;
Oft lonely steered by some faint star,
That glimmered through th' involving dark;
Unaided in his slender bark;
Oft lonely steered by some faint star,
That glimmered through th' involving dark;
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Oft, oft uncertain whither driven,
Or near some rock, or breaker borne;
He'd quit his helm to guiding heaven,
And sigh his cheerless lot till morn!
Or near some rock, or breaker borne;
He'd quit his helm to guiding heaven,
And sigh his cheerless lot till morn!
Oft had the wild heath been his bed,
On some lone hill, or craggy steep;
While light'nings flashed around his head,
And eagles screamed his woes asleep.
On some lone hill, or craggy steep;
While light'nings flashed around his head,
And eagles screamed his woes asleep.
Thus passed his wand'ring life away,
“A wretch by woes and tempests tost,”
Till fortune, in her changeful play,
Wrecked him on Kilda's fatal coast.
“A wretch by woes and tempests tost,”
Till fortune, in her changeful play,
Wrecked him on Kilda's fatal coast.
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Ah! little thought he, while he strove
'Gainst whelming wave and rocky shore,
Yon light would guide him to his love,
For whom these ceaseless ills he bore!
'Gainst whelming wave and rocky shore,
Yon light would guide him to his love,
For whom these ceaseless ills he bore!
“Why starts the youth!—approach—draw near;
Behold the wreck of storm and wave!—
'Tis all that's left!—my Harp so dear
I burned, that fair one's life to save!”
Behold the wreck of storm and wave!—
'Tis all that's left!—my Harp so dear
I burned, that fair one's life to save!”
A glance from Mora's speaking eye
Half calmed the fond youth's labouring breast.
The tale goes round—the bleak winds sigh,
And Col mistrustless sinks to rest.
Half calmed the fond youth's labouring breast.
The tale goes round—the bleak winds sigh,
And Col mistrustless sinks to rest.
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Ah! how could cold distrust possess
A breast so gen'rous, kind, and true!
A heart still melting to distress,
To love—false fair one! and to—you.
A breast so gen'rous, kind, and true!
A heart still melting to distress,
To love—false fair one! and to—you.
The morn arose with aspect drear,
The waves still dash with sullen roar.—
Col starts from rest—no Mora's near,
The treach'rous pair are far from shore!
The waves still dash with sullen roar.—
Col starts from rest—no Mora's near,
The treach'rous pair are far from shore!
From Kilda's cliff that towers on high,
He spies the white sail far at sea;
And, while the big tear fills each eye,
Cries, “Have I burned my Harp for thee!”
He spies the white sail far at sea;
And, while the big tear fills each eye,
Cries, “Have I burned my Harp for thee!”
| The Poetical Works of Hector MacNeill | |