 | THE DEATH OF KING EDMUND. Water-drops |  |
23. THE DEATH OF KING EDMUND.
The Saxon Edmund, reigned o'er Albion's isle,
Nine centuries since.
Scarce had the ruddy bloom
Of seventeen summers ripened on his cheek,
Ere he was called to try the toils that wait
A ruler of rude men. Though his young heart
At times, remembered with a thrill of pride
His grandsire Alfred,—justly styled the Great,
Yet was it idly wont to rest its claim
More on ancestral virtues, than its own,
Boastful of buried glory. Still, he earned
From his barbaric dynasty, the name
Of the Magnificent, and the fierce crews
Of pirate Danes, vexing the British shores,
Confessed his prowess; while his penal codes
Peopled the gibbets with those robber hordes
Who long had foraged on the rifled wealth
Of weaker neighbors.
Thus, the years flowed on,
Till the seventh winter saw the envied crown
Still on his brow. Once, at a royal feast
Around his board, the warriors, and the thanes
Nine centuries since.
Scarce had the ruddy bloom
Of seventeen summers ripened on his cheek,
Ere he was called to try the toils that wait
A ruler of rude men. Though his young heart
At times, remembered with a thrill of pride
His grandsire Alfred,—justly styled the Great,
Yet was it idly wont to rest its claim
More on ancestral virtues, than its own,
Boastful of buried glory. Still, he earned
From his barbaric dynasty, the name
Of the Magnificent, and the fierce crews
Of pirate Danes, vexing the British shores,
Confessed his prowess; while his penal codes
Peopled the gibbets with those robber hordes
Who long had foraged on the rifled wealth
Of weaker neighbors.
Thus, the years flowed on,
Till the seventh winter saw the envied crown
Still on his brow. Once, at a royal feast
Around his board, the warriors, and the thanes
131
He gathered; while with savage mirth they drain'd,
The mighty goblet, smiting on their shields
In chorus, as the scalds some favorite lay
Uplifted, of old heroes.
Deep, the king
Drank of the flowing mead, and gazing round
In fiery exultation, fixed his eye
Amid the distant dimness of the hall,
Upon a banished outlaw.
“Hence!” he cried,
“Dar'st thou to scorn my sentence, and return?—
Hence, from my sight!”
But still, the muffled man
Moved not, and scowling 'neath his bushy locks
With careless credence, or defiance cold,
Gave insolent regard.
So, from his seat
The frantic monarch leaping, mad with wine,
Closed with the ruffian, though a dagger flash'd
Like lightning, and the royal bosom felt
The keenness of its point.—
One moment, high
Spouted the red heart's blood,—the next, there lay
A frowing corse.
Thus, Saxon Edmund fell,
Whom men called king, but Wisdom deems a slave
To appetite and passion. He who boasts
His liberty, yet wears their secret chain,
The mighty goblet, smiting on their shields
In chorus, as the scalds some favorite lay
Uplifted, of old heroes.
Deep, the king
Drank of the flowing mead, and gazing round
In fiery exultation, fixed his eye
Amid the distant dimness of the hall,
Upon a banished outlaw.
“Hence!” he cried,
“Dar'st thou to scorn my sentence, and return?—
Hence, from my sight!”
But still, the muffled man
Moved not, and scowling 'neath his bushy locks
With careless credence, or defiance cold,
Gave insolent regard.
So, from his seat
The frantic monarch leaping, mad with wine,
Closed with the ruffian, though a dagger flash'd
Like lightning, and the royal bosom felt
The keenness of its point.—
One moment, high
Spouted the red heart's blood,—the next, there lay
A frowing corse.
Thus, Saxon Edmund fell,
Whom men called king, but Wisdom deems a slave
To appetite and passion. He who boasts
His liberty, yet wears their secret chain,
132
Doth bow to darker servitude and shame
Than even the serf he scorns.
Giver of grace,
Instruct us with our earliest years to blend
Meekness and temperance, and so 'scape the snare
Of keen remorse, and guilt that hath no hope.
Than even the serf he scorns.
Giver of grace,
Instruct us with our earliest years to blend
Meekness and temperance, and so 'scape the snare
Of keen remorse, and guilt that hath no hope.
| THE DEATH OF KING EDMUND. Water-drops | |