Studies from the Antique and Sketches from Nature By Charles Mackay |
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THE IVY AND THE BELL. |
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 | Studies from the Antique and Sketches from Nature |  |
177
THE IVY AND THE BELL.
In days when Alfred ruled the land,
As ancient legends tell,
The Ivy was a gardener's lad,
And loved a lady well;
And the Bell that hangs in the turret high
Was the lady pure as snow,
The only daughter of an earl,
A thousand years ago.
As ancient legends tell,
The Ivy was a gardener's lad,
And loved a lady well;
And the Bell that hangs in the turret high
Was the lady pure as snow,
The only daughter of an earl,
A thousand years ago.
That lady fair, so bright and rare,
Had suitors many a one,
Both knights and earls, and knaves and churls,
But she loved the gardener's son.
They pledged their faith, in life or death,
In happiness or woe,
And sealed the promise with a ring,
A thousand years ago.
Had suitors many a one,
Both knights and earls, and knaves and churls,
But she loved the gardener's son.
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In happiness or woe,
And sealed the promise with a ring,
A thousand years ago.
The grim earl read his magic book,
And lo! before his sight,
The deeds they did, the love they hid,
Were clear as morning light.
He swore an oath to slay them both—
The maid for looking low,
The gardener's lad for looking high—
A thousand years ago.
And lo! before his sight,
The deeds they did, the love they hid,
Were clear as morning light.
He swore an oath to slay them both—
The maid for looking low,
The gardener's lad for looking high—
A thousand years ago.
By magic might he changed the lad
Into an Ivy flower,
And the lady bright to the booming Bell
That swings in the donjon-tower.
“Be this,”;quoth he, “the doom they dree,
Who guiled a father so!”
And the grim earl burned his magic books,
A thousand years ago.
Into an Ivy flower,
And the lady bright to the booming Bell
That swings in the donjon-tower.
“Be this,”;quoth he, “the doom they dree,
Who guiled a father so!”
And the grim earl burned his magic books,
A thousand years ago.
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But every time the Bell was rung
The Ivy spread and grew,
“Climb to me! climb!”;said every chime,
“O Ivy! ever true!”
And the Ivy clomb an inch a day,
As never did Ivy grow,
And reached the Bell and covered it o'er,
A thousand years ago.
The Ivy spread and grew,
“Climb to me! climb!”;said every chime,
“O Ivy! ever true!”
And the Ivy clomb an inch a day,
As never did Ivy grow,
And reached the Bell and covered it o'er,
A thousand years ago.
A mortal hand ne'er rang the Bell,
But up in its turret high
It pealed sweet tunes, like Norland runes,
To the breeze that wandered by;
And every year at Christmas Eve,
As winds begin to blow,
You may hear it ring—as oft it rang
A thousand years ago.
But up in its turret high
It pealed sweet tunes, like Norland runes,
To the breeze that wandered by;
And every year at Christmas Eve,
As winds begin to blow,
You may hear it ring—as oft it rang
A thousand years ago.
Sometimes merry, and sometimes sad,
But always sweet and clear,
And all who listen dream of Love,
And the hearts they hold most dear.
For Love's the same, and ever the same,
Though ages ebb and flow;—
O Love, be happier than thou wert
A thousand years ago!
But always sweet and clear,
And all who listen dream of Love,
And the hearts they hold most dear.
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Though ages ebb and flow;—
O Love, be happier than thou wert
A thousand years ago!
| Studies from the Antique and Sketches from Nature | |