Poems and Plays By William Hayley ... in Six Volumes. A New Edition |
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| XX. | CANTO XX. |
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 | Poems and Plays |  |
149
CANTO XX.
[OMITTED]150
While thus I strove my nightly watch to keep,
And struggled with th' oppressive weight of sleep,
As my quick feet, with many a silent stride,
Travers'd th' allotted ground from side to side,
My eye perceiv'd one quarter of the plain
White with the mingled bodies of the slain;
For our incessant fire, that bloody day,
Had slaughter'd numbers in the stubborn fray.
And struggled with th' oppressive weight of sleep,
As my quick feet, with many a silent stride,
Travers'd th' allotted ground from side to side,
My eye perceiv'd one quarter of the plain
White with the mingled bodies of the slain;
For our incessant fire, that bloody day,
Had slaughter'd numbers in the stubborn fray.
As oft I paus'd each distant noise to hear,
Gazing around me with attentive ear,
I heard from time to time a feeble sound
Towards the breathless Indians on the ground,
Still closing with a sigh of mournful length;
At every interval it gather'd strength;
And now it ceas'd, and now again begun,
And still from corse to corse it seem'd to run.
As night's encreasing shade my hope destroys,
To view the source of this uncertain noise,
Eager my mind's unquiet doubts to still,
And more the duties of my post fulfil,
With crouching steps I haste, and earnest eyes,
To the low spot from whence the murmurs rise;
And see a dusky Form, that seems to tread
Slow, on four feet, among the gory dead.
Gazing around me with attentive ear,
I heard from time to time a feeble sound
Towards the breathless Indians on the ground,
Still closing with a sigh of mournful length;
At every interval it gather'd strength;
And now it ceas'd, and now again begun,
And still from corse to corse it seem'd to run.
As night's encreasing shade my hope destroys,
To view the source of this uncertain noise,
Eager my mind's unquiet doubts to still,
And more the duties of my post fulfil,
With crouching steps I haste, and earnest eyes,
To the low spot from whence the murmurs rise;
And see a dusky Form, that seems to tread
Slow, on four feet, among the gory dead.
With terror, that my heart will not deny,
When this strange vision struck my doubtful eye,
Towards it, with a prayer to Heav'n, I prest,
Arms in my hand, my corselet on my breast;
But now the dusky Form, on which I sprung,
Upright arose, and spoke with plaintive tongue:
When this strange vision struck my doubtful eye,
151
Arms in my hand, my corselet on my breast;
But now the dusky Form, on which I sprung,
Upright arose, and spoke with plaintive tongue:
Mercy! to mercy hear my just pretence;
I am a woman, guiltless of offence!
If my distress, and unexampled plight,
No generous pity in thy breast excite;
If thy blood-thirsty rage, by tears uncheck'd,
Would pass those limits which the brave respect;
Will such a deed encrease thy martial fame,
When Heaven's just voice shall to the world proclaim
That by thy ruthless sword a woman died,
A widow, sunk in sorrow's deepest tide?
Yet I implore thee, if 'twas haply thine,
Or for thy curse, as now I feel it mine;
If e'er thy lot, in any state, to prove
How firm the faithful ties of tender love,
O let me bury one brave warrior slain,
Whose corse lies blended with this breathless train!
Remember, he who thwarts the duteous will
Becomes th' approver and the cause of ill.
I am a woman, guiltless of offence!
If my distress, and unexampled plight,
No generous pity in thy breast excite;
If thy blood-thirsty rage, by tears uncheck'd,
Would pass those limits which the brave respect;
Will such a deed encrease thy martial fame,
When Heaven's just voice shall to the world proclaim
That by thy ruthless sword a woman died,
A widow, sunk in sorrow's deepest tide?
Yet I implore thee, if 'twas haply thine,
Or for thy curse, as now I feel it mine;
If e'er thy lot, in any state, to prove
How firm the faithful ties of tender love,
O let me bury one brave warrior slain,
Whose corse lies blended with this breathless train!
Remember, he who thwarts the duteous will
Becomes th' approver and the cause of ill.
Thou wilt not hinder these my pious vows;
War fiercest war, this just demand allows:
The basest tyranny alone is driven
To use the utmost power that chance has given.
Let but my soul its dear companion find,
Then sate thy fury, if to blood inclin'd;
For in such grief I draw my lingering breath,
Life is my dread, beyond the pangs of death.
There is no ill that now can wound my breast,
No good, but what I in my Love possest:
Fly then, ye hours! that keep me from the dead;
For he, the spirit of my life, is fled.
If adverse Heaven my latest wish deny,
On his dear corse to fix my closing eye,
My tortur'd soul, in cruel Fate's despight,
Will soar, the faithful partner of his flight.
War fiercest war, this just demand allows:
The basest tyranny alone is driven
To use the utmost power that chance has given.
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Then sate thy fury, if to blood inclin'd;
For in such grief I draw my lingering breath,
Life is my dread, beyond the pangs of death.
There is no ill that now can wound my breast,
No good, but what I in my Love possest:
Fly then, ye hours! that keep me from the dead;
For he, the spirit of my life, is fled.
If adverse Heaven my latest wish deny,
On his dear corse to fix my closing eye,
My tortur'd soul, in cruel Fate's despight,
Will soar, the faithful partner of his flight.
And now her agony of heart implor'd
An end of all her sorrows from my sword.
Doubt and distrust my troubled mind assail,
That fears deceit in her affecting tale;
Nor was I fully of her faith secure,
Till oft her words the mournful truth insure;
Suspicion whisper'd, that an artful spy
By this illusion might our state descry.
An end of all her sorrows from my sword.
Doubt and distrust my troubled mind assail,
That fears deceit in her affecting tale;
Nor was I fully of her faith secure,
Till oft her words the mournful truth insure;
Suspicion whisper'd, that an artful spy
By this illusion might our state descry.
Howe'er inclin'd to doubt, yet soon I knew,
Though night conceal'd her features from my view,
That truth was stamp'd on every word she said;
So full of grief, so free from guilty dread:
And that bold love, to every danger blind,
Had sent her forth her slaughter'd Lord to find,
Who, in the onset of our bloody strife,
For brave distinction sacrific'd his life.
Though night conceal'd her features from my view,
That truth was stamp'd on every word she said;
So full of grief, so free from guilty dread:
And that bold love, to every danger blind,
Had sent her forth her slaughter'd Lord to find,
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For brave distinction sacrific'd his life.
Fill'd with compassion, when I saw her bent
To execute her chaste and fond intent,
I led her weeping to the higher spot,
To guard whose precincts was that night my lot;
Securely there I begg'd her to relate
The perfect story of her various fate;
From first to last her touching woes impart,
And by the tale relieve her loaded heart.
To execute her chaste and fond intent,
I led her weeping to the higher spot,
To guard whose precincts was that night my lot;
Securely there I begg'd her to relate
The perfect story of her various fate;
From first to last her touching woes impart,
And by the tale relieve her loaded heart.
Ah! she replied, relief I ne'er can know,
Till Death's kind aid shall terminate my woe!
Earth for my ills no remedy supplies,
Beyond all suff'rance my afflictions rise:
Yet, though the task will agonize my soul,
Of my sad story I will tell the whole;
Grief, thus infore'd, my life's weak thread may rend,
And in the killing tale my pangs may end.
Till Death's kind aid shall terminate my woe!
Earth for my ills no remedy supplies,
Beyond all suff'rance my afflictions rise:
Yet, though the task will agonize my soul,
Of my sad story I will tell the whole;
Grief, thus infore'd, my life's weak thread may rend,
And in the killing tale my pangs may end.
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