The Battle of Largs A Gothic Poem. With Several Miscellaneous Pieces [by John Galt] |
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| 2. | CANTO SECOND. |
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 | The Battle of Largs |  |
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CANTO SECOND.
What time the flame-mained steeds of morn,
The eastern mountain-tops adorn;
And golden hoof'd ascending run,
Rein'd by the cheerful visag'd sun,
King Hako, wak'd like one releas'd,
For Erie had his fancy seized;
And with a hideous pantomime
A lurid while perplexed him.
He thus with gasping haste addrest
His consort, rudely shook from rest:
The eastern mountain-tops adorn;
And golden hoof'd ascending run,
Rein'd by the cheerful visag'd sun,
King Hako, wak'd like one releas'd,
For Erie had his fancy seized;
And with a hideous pantomime
A lurid while perplexed him.
He thus with gasping haste addrest
His consort, rudely shook from rest:
‘Oh, I have had a dream so wild—
‘Guilt on no villain ere recoil'd
‘In such a haggard guise, as my
‘Unmarshal'd thoughts last night did try
‘To hurl my reason down. Methought
‘A silent-footed phantom sought
‘My couch. Her locks sulphureous glow,
‘Her furnace eyes, that burn'd below
‘A dismal forehead, glaring wide
‘(Like caves by night in Hecla's side);
‘And what her fangs for staff did grasp,—
‘'Twas fired ir'n. Hell's hatchway's hasp!
‘Reveal'd the horrors of her bosom,
‘Whose mummy udders, lank and loathsome,
‘Were such—abhorrence clamms my speech,
‘And words are weak their shape to teach.
‘Guilt on no villain ere recoil'd
‘In such a haggard guise, as my
‘Unmarshal'd thoughts last night did try
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‘A silent-footed phantom sought
‘My couch. Her locks sulphureous glow,
‘Her furnace eyes, that burn'd below
‘A dismal forehead, glaring wide
‘(Like caves by night in Hecla's side);
‘And what her fangs for staff did grasp,—
‘'Twas fired ir'n. Hell's hatchway's hasp!
‘Reveal'd the horrors of her bosom,
‘Whose mummy udders, lank and loathsome,
‘Were such—abhorrence clamms my speech,
‘And words are weak their shape to teach.
‘Fear, potent necromancer, charm'd
‘Me on, though breathless and alarm'd,
‘Falt'ring to follow, and attend
‘The sullen charnel-visag'd fiend;
‘By frowning cliffs and moaning caves,
‘That grudg'd and gloom'd the ocean waves,
‘She lured my steps; at length she stood,
‘And, scowling o'er the weltering flood,
‘That louder rag'd, she stretch'd her hand,
‘Clutching the red Tartarian brand
‘Aloft, and as the black clouds sunder'd,
‘Dar'd the high heavens till they thunder'd;
‘Then voices of portentous sound,
‘Above, below, and all around,
‘Like the mad clamouring of the damn'd,
‘Mine ears with threats and cautions cram'd,
‘Till Sleep, distracted, burst away,
‘And lent me back the sweets of day.’
‘Me on, though breathless and alarm'd,
‘Falt'ring to follow, and attend
‘The sullen charnel-visag'd fiend;
‘By frowning cliffs and moaning caves,
‘That grudg'd and gloom'd the ocean waves,
‘She lured my steps; at length she stood,
‘And, scowling o'er the weltering flood,
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‘Clutching the red Tartarian brand
‘Aloft, and as the black clouds sunder'd,
‘Dar'd the high heavens till they thunder'd;
‘Then voices of portentous sound,
‘Above, below, and all around,
‘Like the mad clamouring of the damn'd,
‘Mine ears with threats and cautions cram'd,
‘Till Sleep, distracted, burst away,
‘And lent me back the sweets of day.’
King Hako ceased; with ghastly gaze,
Eyes fixt and solder'd with amaze,
The queen a listening statue bent,
Nor mark'd the fatal vision spent,
Nor the wan aspect of her lord,
Till soften'd by his gentle word;
Her boding sorrows breath'd in sighs,
And drops of dread bedew'd her eyes;
While down on Hako's firmer mind,
Th' invisible pervaders bind
The auguries of coming woes;
All aspectable nature shows
A thousand tints of murky shade,
Which baleful Superstition aid.
But soon the Queen's elastic brain
Her fears repel'd, and bright again
With sparkling gleams of fancy shone,
Gladd'ning the minions of her throne.
And when to meet his boisterous chiefs
Her lord conceal'd his nameless griefs,
She bade the festal board be spread,
And maids of light enraptur'd tread,
And bards of soul-refining fire,
Evolve the dance, and wake the wire;
That when the war of Wisdom's o'er,
And Faction pleas'd affrights no more,
Around the air-enriching feast,
The court may social transports taste.
Eyes fixt and solder'd with amaze,
The queen a listening statue bent,
Nor mark'd the fatal vision spent,
Nor the wan aspect of her lord,
Till soften'd by his gentle word;
Her boding sorrows breath'd in sighs,
And drops of dread bedew'd her eyes;
While down on Hako's firmer mind,
Th' invisible pervaders bind
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All aspectable nature shows
A thousand tints of murky shade,
Which baleful Superstition aid.
But soon the Queen's elastic brain
Her fears repel'd, and bright again
With sparkling gleams of fancy shone,
Gladd'ning the minions of her throne.
And when to meet his boisterous chiefs
Her lord conceal'd his nameless griefs,
She bade the festal board be spread,
And maids of light enraptur'd tread,
And bards of soul-refining fire,
Evolve the dance, and wake the wire;
That when the war of Wisdom's o'er,
And Faction pleas'd affrights no more,
Around the air-enriching feast,
The court may social transports taste.
Meanwhile, in grave procession go
The herald scalds, sedate and slow;
And oft with solemn long-blown sounds,
Whose vast and wide expanding bounds
A thousand horns dilate, they call
The chiefs to council in the hall.
The herald scalds, sedate and slow;
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Whose vast and wide expanding bounds
A thousand horns dilate, they call
The chiefs to council in the hall.
His shining throne the King ascends,
Obeisant all th' assembly bends;—
Tho' cast in the least human mould,
His port was firm, alert, and bold;
A proud and lofty spirit beam'd
Through all his form, that nature seem'd
Reluctant with corporeal weight
To circumscribe, or mancipate.
When the rude clanging din had ceas'd,
Of warlike chiefs in armour cas'd,
The Parliament he thus addrest:
Obeisant all th' assembly bends;—
Tho' cast in the least human mould,
His port was firm, alert, and bold;
A proud and lofty spirit beam'd
Through all his form, that nature seem'd
Reluctant with corporeal weight
To circumscribe, or mancipate.
When the rude clanging din had ceas'd,
Of warlike chiefs in armour cas'd,
The Parliament he thus addrest:
‘If any think on battle harms,
‘Or dread the shock of jostling arms,
‘The ins'lent trumpet's rousing voice,
‘Or shrink from glorious enterprize;
‘Let such begone, lest loitering here
‘Their febrile brains be scorch'd with fear;
‘But ye who martial honours claim,
‘And longing woo star-crested fame,
‘From you no thought will I conceal,
‘But every wish and aim reveal.
‘Amidst the old oblivious days,
‘Beyond the reach of tales or lays,
‘The sires of Norway strove to gain
‘Britannia's ocean-moated reign,
‘Those vallies wid'ning to the south,
‘And spacious lawns and climate ruth,
‘Where our brave fathers found renown,
‘O think, the mighty sea god's throne,
‘By manly feats may be our own;
‘Then shall our ships securely sweep
‘To realms beyond the subject deep,
‘Till all within the circling sun
‘Is by our valour sway'd and won.’
‘Or dread the shock of jostling arms,
‘The ins'lent trumpet's rousing voice,
‘Or shrink from glorious enterprize;
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‘Their febrile brains be scorch'd with fear;
‘But ye who martial honours claim,
‘And longing woo star-crested fame,
‘From you no thought will I conceal,
‘But every wish and aim reveal.
‘Amidst the old oblivious days,
‘Beyond the reach of tales or lays,
‘The sires of Norway strove to gain
‘Britannia's ocean-moated reign,
‘Those vallies wid'ning to the south,
‘And spacious lawns and climate ruth,
‘Where our brave fathers found renown,
‘O think, the mighty sea god's throne,
‘By manly feats may be our own;
‘Then shall our ships securely sweep
‘To realms beyond the subject deep,
‘Till all within the circling sun
‘Is by our valour sway'd and won.’
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The monarch ceas'd, and silence spread,
Producing hope, and joy, and dread,
Till rev'rent Drakoff rising show'd
The wisdom well worn age bestow'd.
Like some old tower that decks the plains,
For which the garr'lous village swains,
While sitting on the sward at eve,
With many a pensive survey grieve,
And to th' enquiring pilgrims tell
What chiefs around its ramparts fell,
And how their fathers saw it stand,
The pride and refuge of the land—
Sage Drakoff seem'd, and thus exprest,
The rushing thought that vext his breast.
Producing hope, and joy, and dread,
Till rev'rent Drakoff rising show'd
The wisdom well worn age bestow'd.
Like some old tower that decks the plains,
For which the garr'lous village swains,
While sitting on the sward at eve,
With many a pensive survey grieve,
And to th' enquiring pilgrims tell
What chiefs around its ramparts fell,
And how their fathers saw it stand,
The pride and refuge of the land—
Sage Drakoff seem'd, and thus exprest,
The rushing thought that vext his breast.
‘Tho' bending with a load of years,
‘And conquer'd now by age appears
‘That strength with which I hop'd to raise
‘A monument to future days,
‘Whose trophied cone afar sublime,
‘To the remotest verge of time,
‘Should o'er the world its shadow throw,
‘And catch the final sunbeams glow;
‘But though compel'd from martial strife,
‘The Fates that eke my thread of life
‘Beyond the common mortal length,
‘Amidst the crumbling of my strength
‘Their precious mental spark retain
‘Still strong and brilliant in my brain,
‘Perhaps to fire the torch of Truth,
‘And show to bold careering youth
‘How meteor-schemes of conquest tend,
‘And quench'd in stormy darkness end.
‘The sires of Norway cross'd the deep;
‘Their wives as oft did widows weep.
‘What greater strength now nerves the Danes,
‘Than that which fill'd their fathers' veins?
‘What clearer prospects now unfold,
‘Than those which lur'd our sires of old?
‘Will Alexander's ardent pride
‘Than gentle Duncan's less deride?
‘Or will the Stewart on the heath
‘Be easier vanquish'd than Macbeth?
‘O royal Hako, ere too late,
‘Avoid, avert, thy hair-hung fate,
‘Nor fatten Scotland's meagre sod
‘With Norway's best, and bravest blood.’
‘And conquer'd now by age appears
‘That strength with which I hop'd to raise
‘A monument to future days,
‘Whose trophied cone afar sublime,
‘To the remotest verge of time,
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‘And catch the final sunbeams glow;
‘But though compel'd from martial strife,
‘The Fates that eke my thread of life
‘Beyond the common mortal length,
‘Amidst the crumbling of my strength
‘Their precious mental spark retain
‘Still strong and brilliant in my brain,
‘Perhaps to fire the torch of Truth,
‘And show to bold careering youth
‘How meteor-schemes of conquest tend,
‘And quench'd in stormy darkness end.
‘The sires of Norway cross'd the deep;
‘Their wives as oft did widows weep.
‘What greater strength now nerves the Danes,
‘Than that which fill'd their fathers' veins?
‘What clearer prospects now unfold,
‘Than those which lur'd our sires of old?
‘Will Alexander's ardent pride
‘Than gentle Duncan's less deride?
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‘Be easier vanquish'd than Macbeth?
‘O royal Hako, ere too late,
‘Avoid, avert, thy hair-hung fate,
‘Nor fatten Scotland's meagre sod
‘With Norway's best, and bravest blood.’
He ceas'd, the King scowl'd stern on him;
But the black omens of the dream
Soon chang'd the aspect of his frown,
And aw'd the rising anger down.
Then savage Sweno forward sprung;—
His thund'rous throat and hoarse harsh tongue
Discharge the tempest of his soul—
From chief to chief his eyeballs roll,
And oft as Drakoff they survey,
The lightning gleams of passion ray.
As in some shaggy alpin wild,
Amidst a hundred mountains pil'd,
His far-seen head of granite rears
Some huger hill, and grimly bears
The cloud-wrapt storm, while all his woods
And rock-precipitated floods,
In dreadful dissonance combin'd,
Astound the ear, and awe the mind,
Was Sweno, when his charter'd rage
Despis'd the wisdom of the sage.
But as a lofty galley rides
Amidst the confluence of tides,
And strives with varying prow to keep
Her seat serene upon the deep,
Seem'd Asketen, whose gorgeous phrase
The charms of luring hope displays.
But the black omens of the dream
Soon chang'd the aspect of his frown,
And aw'd the rising anger down.
Then savage Sweno forward sprung;—
His thund'rous throat and hoarse harsh tongue
Discharge the tempest of his soul—
From chief to chief his eyeballs roll,
And oft as Drakoff they survey,
The lightning gleams of passion ray.
As in some shaggy alpin wild,
Amidst a hundred mountains pil'd,
His far-seen head of granite rears
Some huger hill, and grimly bears
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And rock-precipitated floods,
In dreadful dissonance combin'd,
Astound the ear, and awe the mind,
Was Sweno, when his charter'd rage
Despis'd the wisdom of the sage.
But as a lofty galley rides
Amidst the confluence of tides,
And strives with varying prow to keep
Her seat serene upon the deep,
Seem'd Asketen, whose gorgeous phrase
The charms of luring hope displays.
Thus many an hour in keen debate,
The chieftains pass'd, but fixt was Fate.
The rash, the young, the desp'rate join'd
The largest wish of Hako's mind,
And eager for th' immortal strife,
To him devote both sword and life.
The chieftains pass'd, but fixt was Fate.
The rash, the young, the desp'rate join'd
The largest wish of Hako's mind,
And eager for th' immortal strife,
To him devote both sword and life.
When Nature with the shades of eve
Night's sable veil began to weave,
Dim through the loaded trenchers steam
The torches glare, the warriors gleam,
And foaming ale in ample horns
The shining oaken board adorns.
The hearth with forest splinters rais'd,
In cheerful conflagration blaz'd,
And every face shone through the shade,
With mirth and saffron light array'd.
The Bards on lofty benches rear'd,
Amid the hoary Scalds appear'd,
And pouring forth the flowing verse,
In melody the court immerse.
Sweet Orzincrantz, a youthful bard,
Above the mingling choir is heard:
The royal pair his harpings own,
And bid him swell the lay alone.
Night's sable veil began to weave,
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The torches glare, the warriors gleam,
And foaming ale in ample horns
The shining oaken board adorns.
The hearth with forest splinters rais'd,
In cheerful conflagration blaz'd,
And every face shone through the shade,
With mirth and saffron light array'd.
The Bards on lofty benches rear'd,
Amid the hoary Scalds appear'd,
And pouring forth the flowing verse,
In melody the court immerse.
Sweet Orzincrantz, a youthful bard,
Above the mingling choir is heard:
The royal pair his harpings own,
And bid him swell the lay alone.
His cluster'd curls of raven hue,
Luxuriant round his temples grew,
His eyes ethereal lustre ray,
As o'er the harp his fingers stray;
Now softly sweet, now wildly clear,
The strain enchants the thrilling ear;
Now deep, and slow, and dread, and strange,
The notes to awful measures change:
The scourge of Rage his fancy feels,—
Hark! the loud frantic hurried peals!
Lo with a furious hand he flings
His tingling soul o'er all the strings.
Luxuriant round his temples grew,
His eyes ethereal lustre ray,
As o'er the harp his fingers stray;
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The strain enchants the thrilling ear;
Now deep, and slow, and dread, and strange,
The notes to awful measures change:
The scourge of Rage his fancy feels,—
Hark! the loud frantic hurried peals!
Lo with a furious hand he flings
His tingling soul o'er all the strings.
He sung of Odin's mystic birth,
And union with prolific Earth;
Their amorous indolence and love
In blest Valhalla's ashen grove.
Shaking the harp's resounding frame,
He thunders of his warlike fame,
Describes his 'scapes, his daring toil,
How, issuing from his native soil,
He leaves the sullen Scythian wastes,—
Through various Muscovy he hastes,
And leads his gallant hardy train,
Dauntless by fen, wood, river, plain,—
In regions trackless, nameless, grim,
The vales they pass, the hills they climb,
For Glory nerves the hero's breast,
Till Vict'ry trims the couch of rest.
And union with prolific Earth;
Their amorous indolence and love
In blest Valhalla's ashen grove.
Shaking the harp's resounding frame,
He thunders of his warlike fame,
Describes his 'scapes, his daring toil,
How, issuing from his native soil,
He leaves the sullen Scythian wastes,—
Through various Muscovy he hastes,
And leads his gallant hardy train,
Dauntless by fen, wood, river, plain,—
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The vales they pass, the hills they climb,
For Glory nerves the hero's breast,
Till Vict'ry trims the couch of rest.
Thus music, mirth, and song prevail'd,
Till softly slipping Sleep assail'd
With gentle pressure every eye,
And beckoning all her visions nigh,
Bereft of will the lither mind,
And Memory's linked effigies to Fancy's sway resign'd.
Till softly slipping Sleep assail'd
With gentle pressure every eye,
And beckoning all her visions nigh,
Bereft of will the lither mind,
And Memory's linked effigies to Fancy's sway resign'd.
| The Battle of Largs | |