 | The Dawn in Britain |  |
Behold then, gather fishers, to them, there;
Which mend their nets, in the sun, children and wives:
That view, with wondering eyes these strangers' guise;
Lean-visaged men, as any agate, red;
Long wounden linen cloths, on their pilled heads!
Those shipwrecked women, wimpled, hollow-eyed!
Gauls' wives feel, thronging on them, their strange weed.
Which mend their nets, in the sun, children and wives:
That view, with wondering eyes these strangers' guise;
Lean-visaged men, as any agate, red;
Long wounden linen cloths, on their pilled heads!
Those shipwrecked women, wimpled, hollow-eyed!
Gauls' wives feel, thronging on them, their strange weed.
Is Corbelo, in main Gaul, Armoric haven,
And now a Roman shore. Yearned the saints' hearts,
Then in their breasts: to save, their lips ask Christ,
Save, these dead children, of yond heathen graves!
Fervent, meek-voiced, hark, lifting his two hands,
In tongue which Jesus spake, then Joseph prays;
Saying, Heavenly Father! rue, Lord, for Christ's sake,
On this poor gentile folk, which dwell far-off,
In darkness; that us, (saved, from Thy great Deep,)
Have now received, with kindness, to their shore.
And now a Roman shore. Yearned the saints' hearts,
Then in their breasts: to save, their lips ask Christ,
Save, these dead children, of yond heathen graves!
Fervent, meek-voiced, hark, lifting his two hands,
In tongue which Jesus spake, then Joseph prays;
Saying, Heavenly Father! rue, Lord, for Christ's sake,
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In darkness; that us, (saved, from Thy great Deep,)
Have now received, with kindness, to their shore.
They marked, then, certain man, with thronging Gauls,
Stand, like some soldier of a Roman Province;
Who seems interpret words of Joseph's mouth.
This makes now known himself, unto the saints,
(He freedman also is of worthy Priscus;)
Pistos, Galatian. Sometime, in his youth,
He, in Pamphylia, learned the Syrians' speech:
But are his nation of like tongue with Gauls;
Nephews of them which followed Second Brennus;
And passed o'er Hellespont, with stout Britomart.
Just man is Pistos; and, oftwhiles, in woods,
If haply, he might find healing of some god,
He kneels; and spreads, towards heaven, his groping palms!
Stand, like some soldier of a Roman Province;
Who seems interpret words of Joseph's mouth.
This makes now known himself, unto the saints,
(He freedman also is of worthy Priscus;)
Pistos, Galatian. Sometime, in his youth,
He, in Pamphylia, learned the Syrians' speech:
But are his nation of like tongue with Gauls;
Nephews of them which followed Second Brennus;
And passed o'er Hellespont, with stout Britomart.
Just man is Pistos; and, oftwhiles, in woods,
If haply, he might find healing of some god,
He kneels; and spreads, towards heaven, his groping palms!
In honour Pistos is, mongst Gauls and Romans;
As who hath, not few, Roman citizens saved,
By valour of his only arm, in wars.
When they return, now, to the Roman castrum;
Throngs follow, with the saints, of blue-eyed Gauls.
As who hath, not few, Roman citizens saved,
By valour of his only arm, in wars.
When they return, now, to the Roman castrum;
Throngs follow, with the saints, of blue-eyed Gauls.
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But clamour, after meat, is heard without.
Much gathered folk make hubbub, at these gates.
Mongst whom, some in white saies; whom Gauls call druids,
Priests of their immane gods! and young men, armed;
Which threaten, with fierce spears, the ward of soldiers.
Is this their market-day; when to the dune,
Come in, from upland, men with arms and targe.
Yell furious Gauls, mongst whom, are frantic women;
Yield them, those strangers, come from Bourne-of-Night!
To sacrifice unto Ana, mighty goddess.
(Is this, Great-mother named, of all Gauls' gods.)
Much gathered folk make hubbub, at these gates.
Mongst whom, some in white saies; whom Gauls call druids,
Priests of their immane gods! and young men, armed;
Which threaten, with fierce spears, the ward of soldiers.
Is this their market-day; when to the dune,
Come in, from upland, men with arms and targe.
Yell furious Gauls, mongst whom, are frantic women;
Yield them, those strangers, come from Bourne-of-Night!
To sacrifice unto Ana, mighty goddess.
(Is this, Great-mother named, of all Gauls' gods.)
Blew Roman clarion forth, then, a stern note!
The garrison, run, in harness, man the walls.
Lucius, centurion, reads, from their tower-gate,
Late edict of the Roman emperor;
Forbidding Gauls, in Roman town, bear arms:
Prohibiting stain altars of the gods,
With human gore, in all the world of Rome!
Spake Lucius, standing forth, in Latin tongue,
Some sea-god saved those shipwrecked guests, to land;
Men that are strangers of a Roman Province;
Which province, to the emperor's self, pertains.
To clamour thus, before a guard of soldiers,
Were perilous. He to many, among the Gauls,
Calling by name, then warns them, to turn home.
The garrison, run, in harness, man the walls.
Lucius, centurion, reads, from their tower-gate,
Late edict of the Roman emperor;
Forbidding Gauls, in Roman town, bear arms:
Prohibiting stain altars of the gods,
With human gore, in all the world of Rome!
Spake Lucius, standing forth, in Latin tongue,
Some sea-god saved those shipwrecked guests, to land;
Men that are strangers of a Roman Province;
Which province, to the emperor's self, pertains.
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Were perilous. He to many, among the Gauls,
Calling by name, then warns them, to turn home.
Those him again saluting, gin persuade
The rest disperse. Hark, when this day far-spent,
Thick sounding hooves, in the now silent street!
An horseman soldier lights, at castrum port:
He entered, an epistle takes to Lucius;
Who brake the seal, and reads, with heavy cheer:
Sempronius, to the trusty captain Lucius,
Wisheth much health. Arrived the quæstor Priscus,
This afternoon, with soldiers, to our shore.
Yet naught would rest, what though he weary were;
But bade men follow, with him, to sea-strand.
When, there, he saw the body of young Lepidus,
His son, already laid upon a pyre,
Brake from him, moaning cry; and in his litter,
He turned his face. But Livia abandoned her,
Beating her breast, with shrieks, upon the bier.
Then I, returning to his litter, found
The quæstor dead; wherein, he stirred no more.
This write I, hastily; and that the public weal,
Might take none hurt; and, in this hope, farewell.
I make to-night, for Priscus, funerals.
The rest disperse. Hark, when this day far-spent,
Thick sounding hooves, in the now silent street!
An horseman soldier lights, at castrum port:
He entered, an epistle takes to Lucius;
Who brake the seal, and reads, with heavy cheer:
Sempronius, to the trusty captain Lucius,
Wisheth much health. Arrived the quæstor Priscus,
This afternoon, with soldiers, to our shore.
Yet naught would rest, what though he weary were;
But bade men follow, with him, to sea-strand.
When, there, he saw the body of young Lepidus,
His son, already laid upon a pyre,
Brake from him, moaning cry; and in his litter,
He turned his face. But Livia abandoned her,
Beating her breast, with shrieks, upon the bier.
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The quæstor dead; wherein, he stirred no more.
This write I, hastily; and that the public weal,
Might take none hurt; and, in this hope, farewell.
I make to-night, for Priscus, funerals.
Recounts that soldier, how the Roman dead,
He, on the chesil banks, beheld, row-laid.
Himself, he saw, young Lepidus' cold corse;
That comely lapped, when he was taken up,
Wild tangles of the sea, from head to feet,
Like fair prætexta. In shole tide he lay;
Where lifting, every billow, his bright locks,
Seemed kiss his cheeks. Men say, did Nereids rise,
Beating their bosoms, from the guilty waves,
On him to gaze; and that the sea-maids sought,
Clipping, in their white arms, his clay-cold corse,
How him to chaufe, with their delicious breasts.
Closed his quencht eyes, they plaited his bright locks.
Bearing him, in their horny hands, to land,
Out of the brown-pitcht bark, rude fishers wept.
He, on the chesil banks, beheld, row-laid.
Himself, he saw, young Lepidus' cold corse;
That comely lapped, when he was taken up,
Wild tangles of the sea, from head to feet,
Like fair prætexta. In shole tide he lay;
Where lifting, every billow, his bright locks,
Seemed kiss his cheeks. Men say, did Nereids rise,
Beating their bosoms, from the guilty waves,
On him to gaze; and that the sea-maids sought,
Clipping, in their white arms, his clay-cold corse,
How him to chaufe, with their delicious breasts.
Closed his quencht eyes, they plaited his bright locks.
Bearing him, in their horny hands, to land,
Out of the brown-pitcht bark, rude fishers wept.
Lucius, centurion, deemed then, march this night,
By the moon's lamp; bearing forth urn and bays,
To bring back Priscus' ashes: yet he fears,
Alway, some new stir of inconstant Gauls.
Even now, men wait speech of him, at the gates.
He went forth to them; and they tell, is tumult,
Again, in Corbelo street. And that, for cause
Of those swart strangers, come from Bourne-of-Night;
Lest they bring pestilence, blast the growing fields,
And fray their fish: Wherefore, they cry, yield Romans
Those uncouth ones; or, else, durst angry Gauls,
At new day-red, assail this Roman castrum!
By the moon's lamp; bearing forth urn and bays,
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Alway, some new stir of inconstant Gauls.
Even now, men wait speech of him, at the gates.
He went forth to them; and they tell, is tumult,
Again, in Corbelo street. And that, for cause
Of those swart strangers, come from Bourne-of-Night;
Lest they bring pestilence, blast the growing fields,
And fray their fish: Wherefore, they cry, yield Romans
Those uncouth ones; or, else, durst angry Gauls,
At new day-red, assail this Roman castrum!
Lucius mislikes the men's both words and looks;
Who hath, with him, for long defence, few soldiers.
Lifting his hands, then, to immortal stars;
Before the Gauls, gan Lucius, by his gods,
Protest, and Fortune of imperial Rome;
Those strangers, whom they fear, should part, this night,
Out of their coasts; so should that peril pass.
Return, quoth now that captain; and shut fast
Their doors, and kindle great fires, on all hearths,
And beet all night; and come, at morrow's break,
Again; when he, in reverence of the dead,
Must offer a swart ewe. With him, all, then,
To Tower Pictonia, a great mourning train,
Descend; to follow Priscus' exequies.
So they, appeased, by Lucius' words, went home.
Who hath, with him, for long defence, few soldiers.
Lifting his hands, then, to immortal stars;
Before the Gauls, gan Lucius, by his gods,
Protest, and Fortune of imperial Rome;
Those strangers, whom they fear, should part, this night,
Out of their coasts; so should that peril pass.
Return, quoth now that captain; and shut fast
Their doors, and kindle great fires, on all hearths,
And beet all night; and come, at morrow's break,
Again; when he, in reverence of the dead,
Must offer a swart ewe. With him, all, then,
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Descend; to follow Priscus' exequies.
So they, appeased, by Lucius' words, went home.
Now the dim night; and only sounds strange chant,
Of Gauls' mad druids. But when is changed the watch,
Lucius commands, waken those shipwrecked strangers;
And bid them ready make, anon, to part!
Of Gauls' mad druids. But when is changed the watch,
Lucius commands, waken those shipwrecked strangers;
And bid them ready make, anon, to part!
Then called those Lucius in, before him, spake;
How foolish Gauls had damned them, to their gods;
And would, in tumult, put to bloody death!
And, o'er all this, do thicken on him troubles,
Since Priscus' death. That God, in so great tempest,
Which ere them saved; should still preserve them forth.
How foolish Gauls had damned them, to their gods;
And would, in tumult, put to bloody death!
And, o'er all this, do thicken on him troubles,
Since Priscus' death. That God, in so great tempest,
Which ere them saved; should still preserve them forth.
Now when the saints; that, sudden, roused from sleep,
And kindly rest, tremble in the night's cold,
Hear, they must, newly, forth, to sea, this night;
They feel, as cold glaive, through their trembling loins,
Smote! Yet they meekly do submit them, (Christ
So bade,) to Lucius' ordinance. The holy women,
That faint again, with sickness of the deep,
Wimpling their eyes, gan weep, for sore constraint.
And kindly rest, tremble in the night's cold,
Hear, they must, newly, forth, to sea, this night;
They feel, as cold glaive, through their trembling loins,
Smote! Yet they meekly do submit them, (Christ
So bade,) to Lucius' ordinance. The holy women,
That faint again, with sickness of the deep,
Wimpling their eyes, gan weep, for sore constraint.
Fain, would they rest; but Christ, not yet, appoints
To them, abiding place. At Lucius' word,
To them, is measured corn and bread, so much,
As their lapped Syrian mantles might contain.
Come ready to convoy them, guard of soldiers:
They issue to night stars, and unknown voyage.
To them, abiding place. At Lucius' word,
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As their lapped Syrian mantles might contain.
Come ready to convoy them, guard of soldiers:
They issue to night stars, and unknown voyage.
Far ways about, by fields, wet with night dew,
Them bring the soldiers down, to Liger's side;
Where lies, their sea-beat hull, yet, bound in staithe:
And them compel aboard: so hew her cords,
With their impatient glaives; and those fall off.
Last shout the soldiers, Give them prosperous voyage,
The gods, and have good-night! Sets Mnason's carrack,
The ebb, out, to mid-stream. A chill night-wind,
Them seaward drives; and weary are their hearts.
Them bring the soldiers down, to Liger's side;
Where lies, their sea-beat hull, yet, bound in staithe:
And them compel aboard: so hew her cords,
With their impatient glaives; and those fall off.
Last shout the soldiers, Give them prosperous voyage,
The gods, and have good-night! Sets Mnason's carrack,
The ebb, out, to mid-stream. A chill night-wind,
Them seaward drives; and weary are their hearts.
Was then, them thought, one swimming from the land,
They hear; and they, eftsoons, know Pistos' voice;
Whose valiant arms buffet, the chilling water:
For he, to come to them, from shore, would take,
Unrightfully, no man's bark. Pistos, the soldier,
Lo, mongst them, dripping, stands, on their ship's board.
They hear; and they, eftsoons, know Pistos' voice;
Whose valiant arms buffet, the chilling water:
For he, to come to them, from shore, would take,
Unrightfully, no man's bark. Pistos, the soldier,
Lo, mongst them, dripping, stands, on their ship's board.
He, yester, issued was, from Corbelo, forth,
For some affairs of merchandise of his.
But home returned; whilst this Galatian sleeps,
He an Heavenly One, beheld, in shining vision!
Bidding him follow Joseph, in ship-voyage;
With whom is word of the Eternal Life.
He rose then; and ran forth: nor stayed, take aught,
Out of the house; but speeding, on his feet,
He met with those returning legionaries.
Of whom he heard, had Lucius sent them forth;
And how, in their bruised vessel, fleeting were,
Those shipwrecked strangers, from the river's shore.
For some affairs of merchandise of his.
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He an Heavenly One, beheld, in shining vision!
Bidding him follow Joseph, in ship-voyage;
With whom is word of the Eternal Life.
He rose then; and ran forth: nor stayed, take aught,
Out of the house; but speeding, on his feet,
He met with those returning legionaries.
Of whom he heard, had Lucius sent them forth;
And how, in their bruised vessel, fleeting were,
Those shipwrecked strangers, from the river's shore.
The saints receive; and bring dry weed to Pistos.
And marks that Roman soldier, Syrian Joseph,
To be the same he, in his dream, to-night,
Beheld. Last fishers' fires, nigh Liger's mouth,
They lose; then slumber steeps their weary sense.
When morrow breaks, at sea, with stormy signs;
They view main-Gaul's Armoric coast, far off!
And marks that Roman soldier, Syrian Joseph,
To be the same he, in his dream, to-night,
Beheld. Last fishers' fires, nigh Liger's mouth,
They lose; then slumber steeps their weary sense.
When morrow breaks, at sea, with stormy signs;
They view main-Gaul's Armoric coast, far off!
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