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248
SILCHESTER.
O pride of England's elder time,
Fair in decay as in thy prime,
Vindomis! Caer Segont! what name
Thy wond'rous walls delight to claim,
Queen of the Hills! thy towering throne
Looks on thy vassal vallies down;
And firm as rocks thy ruins stand,
And hem around thy fertile land:
That land where once a city fair
Flourish'd and pour'd her thousands there;
Where now the waving corn fields glow
And trace the wide streets as they grow
O chronicle of ages gone!
Thou dwellest in thy pride alone!
Nature her noiseless circle ranging,
Unchanged still but ever changing,
Hath left nor tree, nor earth, nor flood,
That at thy birth around thee stood;
Now e'en amid thy massy line
The fibres twist, the roots entwine:
Repaying the support it finds,
Deep, fix'd, the living cordage winds;
And oak, and ash, and elmin tree,
Now interlac'd, now waving free,
Rear the proud trunk, the wide branch spread,
And form a forest o'er thy head.
Fair in decay as in thy prime,
Vindomis! Caer Segont! what name
Thy wond'rous walls delight to claim,
Queen of the Hills! thy towering throne
Looks on thy vassal vallies down;
And firm as rocks thy ruins stand,
And hem around thy fertile land:
That land where once a city fair
Flourish'd and pour'd her thousands there;
249
And trace the wide streets as they grow
Leland says, “the corn in these fields is marvellous fair to the eye, and ready to show perfecture, it decayeth owing to the foundation on which it grows.” This happens only on the site of the principal streets, which may be plainly traced during the time that the corn is ripening as well as when it first begins to appear. The general fertility of the land is very remarkable: the average crop last year was 5 quarters of wheat to an acre; whilst the fields without the walls did not produce more than 3 quarters and a half.
O chronicle of ages gone!
Thou dwellest in thy pride alone!
Nature her noiseless circle ranging,
Unchanged still but ever changing,
Hath left nor tree, nor earth, nor flood,
That at thy birth around thee stood;
Now e'en amid thy massy line
The fibres twist, the roots entwine:
Repaying the support it finds,
Deep, fix'd, the living cordage winds;
And oak, and ash, and elmin tree,
Now interlac'd, now waving free,
Rear the proud trunk, the wide branch spread,
And form a forest o'er thy head.
Erst on that wood-cloth'd rampart fell
The tread of Roman sentinel;
Familiar peal'd their graceful tongue,
Thy walls with clanging armour rung;
Or started as discordant sound
Of Saxon war-cry woke the echoes round.
And they are gone! states, empires, all!
Their armour rusts in trophied hall;
Their tongues, the polish'd as the rude,
Sleep in their learned solitude.
That Latian strain, which wont to cheer,
With native tone, the soldier's ear;
Which, faintly warbled, lull'd to rest
The babe upon its mother's breast;
The common speech of toil's rude mates,—
No city now reverberates.
Yes, they are gone! and thou may'st stay,
To view another state decay,
Another tongue to ruin fall,
Ere sinks to earth thy massive wall.
Yet sweetly rural now the sounds,
That venerable wall rebounds:
The plough-boy's whistle clear and strong;
The rosy milk-maid's evening song;
The laugh from schoolboy's joyous breast,
Who seeks the ring-dove's rude-built nest;
The bell which calls the swains to pray;
And the low hymn which dies away;
Sweet sounds of peace, song, prayer, and bell,
Why are ye not unchangeable!
The tread of Roman sentinel;
250
Thy walls with clanging armour rung;
Or started as discordant sound
Of Saxon war-cry woke the echoes round.
And they are gone! states, empires, all!
Their armour rusts in trophied hall;
Their tongues, the polish'd as the rude,
Sleep in their learned solitude.
That Latian strain, which wont to cheer,
With native tone, the soldier's ear;
Which, faintly warbled, lull'd to rest
The babe upon its mother's breast;
The common speech of toil's rude mates,—
No city now reverberates.
Yes, they are gone! and thou may'st stay,
To view another state decay,
Another tongue to ruin fall,
Ere sinks to earth thy massive wall.
251
That venerable wall rebounds:
The plough-boy's whistle clear and strong;
The rosy milk-maid's evening song;
The laugh from schoolboy's joyous breast,
Who seeks the ring-dove's rude-built nest;
The bell which calls the swains to pray;
And the low hymn which dies away;
Sweet sounds of peace, song, prayer, and bell,
Why are ye not unchangeable!
But all is change; upon the wall
The glancing sun-beams gaily fall;
And we may sit, and muse, and view
That mirror tint of greyish blue,
Till visionary shadows throng,
And buried heroes pass along;
Flitting o'er Fancy's vision'd eye,
Like clouds across the noon-day sky.
See ye who leads yon crowded line?
'Tis the usurper Constantine!
The recent purple proudly wearing,
Pomp, state, and pride of Empire bearing,
He treads; and Romans watch his nod,
And Britons own a demi-god.
That band, the flower of British land,
They follow to Gaul's hostile strand;
And weeping mothers line the shore,
To bless those who return no more!—
The glancing sun-beams gaily fall;
And we may sit, and muse, and view
That mirror tint of greyish blue,
Till visionary shadows throng,
And buried heroes pass along;
Flitting o'er Fancy's vision'd eye,
Like clouds across the noon-day sky.
252
'Tis the usurper Constantine!
The recent purple proudly wearing,
Pomp, state, and pride of Empire bearing,
He treads; and Romans watch his nod,
And Britons own a demi-god.
That band, the flower of British land,
They follow to Gaul's hostile strand;
And weeping mothers line the shore,
To bless those who return no more!—
The shadows fly! another race
Is here, of rude and savage face;
Another tongue, another form,
Rough as the wave, loud as the storm.
'Tis Saxon Ælla comes! fly! fly!
Destruction dwells within his eye;
Barbarian chief! he levels all;
Cottage and temple, tower and hall;
Impartial in his cruelty,
Not who oppose, but all shall die;
Nor sex nor age exemption claim,
Unknown to Mercy's very name!
Is here, of rude and savage face;
Another tongue, another form,
Rough as the wave, loud as the storm.
'Tis Saxon Ælla comes! fly! fly!
Destruction dwells within his eye;
Barbarian chief! he levels all;
Cottage and temple, tower and hall;
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Not who oppose, but all shall die;
Nor sex nor age exemption claim,
Unknown to Mercy's very name!
Fades the rude pageant! the bright ray,
That drives it hence, brings England's day.
Hail to the Briton Prince! 'Tis he
Who lives in Merlin's witchery!
'Tis Arthur, Sun of Chivalry!
They come, they come, the glorious train!
The table round is rear'd again!
And gallant knights, and ladies fair,
Enchanters, elfin sprites, are there!
The rich confusion brighter glows,
And blends and dazzles as it grows,
Till hoots yon owl from ivied throne;
The shades dissolve, the vision's gone!
The twilight dim obscures the wall,
The trees in deepening masses fall;
Retiring now, and now advancing,
Like moonlight caverns, darkening glancing;
Whilst from her ruinous shelter creeps,
The rabbit forth, then backward leaps,
Scar'd that unwonted steps intrude,
And break her evening solitude.
Yon sea of leaves, with tremulous motion,
Quiver like foam upon the ocean!
Now murmuring low, now whistling shrill,
The breeze of night blows damp and chill;
The rank grass bends with heavy dew,
And lingering long we sigh Adieu!
That drives it hence, brings England's day.
Hail to the Briton Prince! 'Tis he
Who lives in Merlin's witchery!
'Tis Arthur, Sun of Chivalry!
They come, they come, the glorious train!
The table round is rear'd again!
And gallant knights, and ladies fair,
Enchanters, elfin sprites, are there!
The rich confusion brighter glows,
And blends and dazzles as it grows,
Till hoots yon owl from ivied throne;
The shades dissolve, the vision's gone!
254
The trees in deepening masses fall;
Retiring now, and now advancing,
Like moonlight caverns, darkening glancing;
Whilst from her ruinous shelter creeps,
The rabbit forth, then backward leaps,
Scar'd that unwonted steps intrude,
And break her evening solitude.
Yon sea of leaves, with tremulous motion,
Quiver like foam upon the ocean!
Now murmuring low, now whistling shrill,
The breeze of night blows damp and chill;
The rank grass bends with heavy dew,
And lingering long we sigh Adieu!
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