The Ingoldsby Legends or, Mirth and Marvels. By Thomas Ingoldsby [i.e. R. H. Barham] |
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 | The Ingoldsby Legends |  |
“'Twas done! the deed that damns me—done
I know not how—I never knew;—
And Here I stood—but not alone,—
The prostrate Boy my madness slew,
Was by my side—limb, feature, name,
'Twas He!!—another—yet the same!
I know not how—I never knew;—
And Here I stood—but not alone,—
The prostrate Boy my madness slew,
Was by my side—limb, feature, name,
'Twas He!!—another—yet the same!
“Away! away! in frantic haste
Throughout that live-long night I flew—
Away! away!—across the waste,—
I know not how—I never knew.—
My mind was one wild blank—and I
Had but one thought,—one hope—to fly!
Throughout that live-long night I flew—
Away! away!—across the waste,—
I know not how—I never knew.—
My mind was one wild blank—and I
Had but one thought,—one hope—to fly!
149
“And still the lightning plough'd the ground,
The thunder roar'd—and there would come
Amidst its loudest bursts a sound
Familiar once—it was—A DRUM!—
Then came the morn,—and light,—and then
Streets,—houses,—spires,—the hum of men.
The thunder roar'd—and there would come
Amidst its loudest bursts a sound
Familiar once—it was—A DRUM!—
Then came the morn,—and light,—and then
Streets,—houses,—spires,—the hum of men.
“And Ocean roll'd before me—fain
Would I have whelm'd me in its tide,
At once beneath the billowy main
My shame, my guilt, my crime to hide;
But He was there!—He crossed my track,—
I dared not pass—He waved me back!
Would I have whelm'd me in its tide,
At once beneath the billowy main
My shame, my guilt, my crime to hide;
But He was there!—He crossed my track,—
I dared not pass—He waved me back!
“And then rude hands detain'd me—sure
Justice had grasp'd her victim—no!
Though powerless, hopeless, bound, secure,
A captive thrall, it was not so;
They cry ‘The Frenchman's on the wave!’
The press was hot—and I a slave.
Justice had grasp'd her victim—no!
Though powerless, hopeless, bound, secure,
A captive thrall, it was not so;
They cry ‘The Frenchman's on the wave!’
The press was hot—and I a slave.
“They dragg'd me o'er the vessel's side;
The world of waters roll'd below;
The gallant ship in all her pride
Of dreadful beauty sought her foe;
—Thou saw'st me; William in the strife—
Alack! I bore a charmed life!
The world of waters roll'd below;
The gallant ship in all her pride
Of dreadful beauty sought her foe;
—Thou saw'st me; William in the strife—
Alack! I bore a charmed life!
“In vain the bullets round me fly,
In vain mine eager breast I bare;
Death shuns the wretch who longs to die,
And every sword falls edgeless there!
Still He is near;—and seems to cry,
‘Not here, nor thus, may Matcham die!’—
In vain mine eager breast I bare;
Death shuns the wretch who longs to die,
And every sword falls edgeless there!
Still He is near;—and seems to cry,
‘Not here, nor thus, may Matcham die!’—
“Thou saw'st me on that fearful day,
When, fruitless all attempts to save,
Our pinnace foundering in the bay,
The boat's-crew met a watery grave,—
All, all—save one—the ravenous sea
That swallow'd all—rejected Me!
When, fruitless all attempts to save,
Our pinnace foundering in the bay,
The boat's-crew met a watery grave,—
All, all—save one—the ravenous sea
That swallow'd all—rejected Me!
150
“And now, when fifteen suns have each
Fulfill'd in turn its circling year,
Thrown back again on England's beach,
Our bark paid off—He drives me Here!
I could not die in flood or fight—
He drives me Here!!”—
“And sarve you right!
Fulfill'd in turn its circling year,
Thrown back again on England's beach,
Our bark paid off—He drives me Here!
I could not die in flood or fight—
He drives me Here!!”—
“And sarve you right!
| The Ingoldsby Legends | |