 | Young Arthur |  |
ISABEL'S TALE.
But how came Isabel there?—the night
She fell in the wave, as a star so bright
Shoots from the sky as the lightnings go,
And is lost for ever, but how none know.—
In the harbour there moor'd a foreign bark,
Which traded in traffic which Christians mark
As the bane that shall barter the trembling soul
When the heavenly scribe shall unfold the scroll
Where ev'ry mortal his name shall read,
And a blush shall rise for his purest deed;
For his purest deed shall as scarlet show—
But there is that shall make it as driven snow;
But who in man's birthright tamper and trade
Shall they hope grace from that heavenly aid?
Shall the sellers of man hope for heavenly good
Thro' him who bought man with his sacred blood?
But the reign of that heart-rending traffic is o'er,
Or looks to its fall like the leaf in the sear,
And blessings, O Britain! shall gladden thy shore,
For an off'ring to Heaven so hallow'd, and dear.
She fell in the wave, as a star so bright
Shoots from the sky as the lightnings go,
And is lost for ever, but how none know.—
In the harbour there moor'd a foreign bark,
Which traded in traffic which Christians mark
As the bane that shall barter the trembling soul
When the heavenly scribe shall unfold the scroll
Where ev'ry mortal his name shall read,
And a blush shall rise for his purest deed;
For his purest deed shall as scarlet show—
But there is that shall make it as driven snow;
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Shall they hope grace from that heavenly aid?
Shall the sellers of man hope for heavenly good
Thro' him who bought man with his sacred blood?
But the reign of that heart-rending traffic is o'er,
Or looks to its fall like the leaf in the sear,
And blessings, O Britain! shall gladden thy shore,
For an off'ring to Heaven so hallow'd, and dear.
In the offing a bark there riding lay,
And a boat from that bark was in the bay;
In it a ruthles sailor, who
Serv'd with that slave-purloining crew;
And a boat from that bark was in the bay;
In it a ruthles sailor, who
Serv'd with that slave-purloining crew;
And his soul and body one hue they bore,
Like the pitchy belching of Etna's throat;
His mind that dark night's livery wore,
And his soul on the darkling deed could doat.
He heard Isabel plunge, and he heard their cries
That so lovely a maiden lost should be;
And his fancy suggested that maid a prize,
If darkness shrouded his villainy.
And deeply he div'd in the darken'd wave,
The maid he sav'd from a watery grave;
Then, silent and swift, with his beauteous prey—
As the fiend would inveigle a soul away—
Silent and swift, the bark he made,
And Isabel was to Aleppo convey'd.
Her chains were fitted, her chains were freed;
And with Allan she sought the favor'd isle
Where sorrow never unsooth'd may plead,
Where every sympathy loves to smile.
O, Britain, and thou art a land of souls,
And thou art a land of hearts of gold:
Through thee the river of mercy rolls,
And the joys on its banks their high days hold.
Like the pitchy belching of Etna's throat;
His mind that dark night's livery wore,
And his soul on the darkling deed could doat.
He heard Isabel plunge, and he heard their cries
That so lovely a maiden lost should be;
And his fancy suggested that maid a prize,
If darkness shrouded his villainy.
And deeply he div'd in the darken'd wave,
The maid he sav'd from a watery grave;
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As the fiend would inveigle a soul away—
Silent and swift, the bark he made,
And Isabel was to Aleppo convey'd.
Her chains were fitted, her chains were freed;
And with Allan she sought the favor'd isle
Where sorrow never unsooth'd may plead,
Where every sympathy loves to smile.
O, Britain, and thou art a land of souls,
And thou art a land of hearts of gold:
Through thee the river of mercy rolls,
And the joys on its banks their high days hold.
A villa there stood by Brandon Hall,
Enclos'd by a moat and a towering wall;
There dwelt a Matron of pious fame,
Who from Iberia's proud shores came;
And many a sorrow in youth she knew,
And the scene of her birth was a mournful view;
Blest with wealth and from kindred free,
Save one, who was distant and rov'd the sea,
(A child he had, but she knew not where,)
And Spain presenting no choice but care,
To Britain she came, and, unknown to all,
Secluded herself near Brandon Hall;
Yet not to all unknown; for there,
Her's was the poor man's daily prayer;
Church and charity shar'd her day,
And her's was the kind heart's milky way.
Enclos'd by a moat and a towering wall;
There dwelt a Matron of pious fame,
Who from Iberia's proud shores came;
And many a sorrow in youth she knew,
And the scene of her birth was a mournful view;
Blest with wealth and from kindred free,
Save one, who was distant and rov'd the sea,
(A child he had, but she knew not where,)
And Spain presenting no choice but care,
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Secluded herself near Brandon Hall;
Yet not to all unknown; for there,
Her's was the poor man's daily prayer;
Church and charity shar'd her day,
And her's was the kind heart's milky way.
The bark which Allan and Isabel bore
Was steer'd by a man from Iberia's shore;
And he heard the tale of the youthful pair,
A scion from his own soil the fair;
His sympathy weigh'd their doubtful fate,
And, landing, he sought that matron's gate;
Whom to Britain he brought, and her race he knew,
And Isabel's tale gave his mind a clue
To a pleasing hope, and the hope prov'd true.
Was steer'd by a man from Iberia's shore;
And he heard the tale of the youthful pair,
A scion from his own soil the fair;
His sympathy weigh'd their doubtful fate,
And, landing, he sought that matron's gate;
Whom to Britain he brought, and her race he knew,
And Isabel's tale gave his mind a clue
To a pleasing hope, and the hope prov'd true.
He came to that villa with prospect fair,
And friendship ever receiv'd him there;
His tale was told, and the matron's heart
Beat as when gratitude bears a part;
For Isabel prov'd that seaman's child
Alone who bore to her kindred name;
And Isabel came where friendship smil'd,
For the matron rejoic'd in the kindred claim.
And there young Allan was press'd to stay
Till fortune should dawn with a brighter day;
And hence oft Allan would stray to lave
With tears of gratitude Simon's grave.
And friendship ever receiv'd him there;
His tale was told, and the matron's heart
Beat as when gratitude bears a part;
For Isabel prov'd that seaman's child
Alone who bore to her kindred name;
And Isabel came where friendship smil'd,
For the matron rejoic'd in the kindred claim.
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Till fortune should dawn with a brighter day;
And hence oft Allan would stray to lave
With tears of gratitude Simon's grave.
And hence oft Allan would rove to stand
On the lot of the alien, his father's land.
And Edith he met; fair Isabel, then
The heart thou had'st toil'd return'd again.
On the lot of the alien, his father's land.
And Edith he met; fair Isabel, then
The heart thou had'st toil'd return'd again.
And was thy bosom in peril or pain
That Allan still wander'd from thy side?
Or did thy bosom reserve maintain,
Like the virgin's delicate, wounded pride?
That Allan still wander'd from thy side?
Or did thy bosom reserve maintain,
Like the virgin's delicate, wounded pride?
Ah, no—first love your hearts still wore,
And O, first love had your bosoms won;
And fancy and friendship your minds cast o'er
The bright wreath woven in sympathy's sun.
And O, first love had your bosoms won;
And fancy and friendship your minds cast o'er
The bright wreath woven in sympathy's sun.
And thou by chance on a day had'st seen
Ernest, who walk'd with a pensive mien;
And the wreath that fancy and friendship wove
Prov'd by its fading no gift of love.
Ernest, who walk'd with a pensive mien;
And the wreath that fancy and friendship wove
Prov'd by its fading no gift of love.
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(With Edith) young Ernest he met thine eye,
But little he knew that thou wert by;
Had thy form, regretted, been his to see
The heart of thy true love had flown to thee.
But little he knew that thou wert by;
Had thy form, regretted, been his to see
The heart of thy true love had flown to thee.
And, “who is that knight,” wouldst thou, trifling, cry,
“Who paces the green with a port so high?
“And where does that knight so stately bide,
“Whose youth seems drest in the pomp of pride?”
“Who paces the green with a port so high?
“And where does that knight so stately bide,
“Whose youth seems drest in the pomp of pride?”
And Allan has tidings brought to thee
“Sir Ernest reposes in Brandon Hall;
“But he must be tried for piracy”—
And thine was the proving that sav'd his fall.
“Sir Ernest reposes in Brandon Hall;
“But he must be tried for piracy”—
And thine was the proving that sav'd his fall.
And all was joy at Brandon Hall
For Ernest's fame restor'd;
And Ernest's feelings were like the fall
Of heavenly manna on the poor man's board.
For Ernest's fame restor'd;
And Ernest's feelings were like the fall
Of heavenly manna on the poor man's board.
For, O, his fame no stain confounds,
And she, his fate who turn'd,
Whom ev'ry winning grace surrounds,
Is lovely Isabel; the maid he mourn'd.
And she, his fate who turn'd,
Whom ev'ry winning grace surrounds,
Is lovely Isabel; the maid he mourn'd.
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And soon their eyes their hearts display,
And soon their tongues declare
No fate can rend the love away
That grateful hearts for graceful virtue bear.
And soon their tongues declare
No fate can rend the love away
That grateful hearts for graceful virtue bear.
One evening, when the hall was bright,
Young Ernest's pray'rs prevail,
And Isabel of that dread night
The negro seiz'd her told the piteous tale.
Young Ernest's pray'rs prevail,
And Isabel of that dread night
The negro seiz'd her told the piteous tale.
At ev'ry sound of Allan's name
Edith was pale or red;
Did jealousy her heart inflame,
'Gainst beauteous Isabel and bow her head?
Edith was pale or red;
Did jealousy her heart inflame,
'Gainst beauteous Isabel and bow her head?
Ah, no — she saw the hearts entwin'd
Of Ernest and the maid;
She knew her own and Allan's join'd,
But her stern father's pride might love invade.
Of Ernest and the maid;
She knew her own and Allan's join'd,
But her stern father's pride might love invade.
Sir Brandon, charm'd with Allan's fame,
Invites him to the hall;
And learns his birth, his ancient name,
And sympathizes in his father's fall.
Invites him to the hall;
And learns his birth, his ancient name,
And sympathizes in his father's fall.
| Young Arthur | |