The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd Centenary Edition. With a Memoir of the Author, by the Rev. Thomas Thomson ... Poems and Life. With Many Illustrative Engravings [by James Hogg] |
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 | The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd |  |
3. PART THIRD.
Imperial England, of the ocean born,
Who from the isles beyond the dawn of morn,
To where waste oceans wash Peruvia's shore,
Hast from all nations drawn thy boasted lore!
Helm of the world, whom seas and isles obey,
Though high thy honours, and though far thy sway,
Thy harp I crave, unfearful of thy frown;
Well may'st thou lend what erst was not thine own.
Who from the isles beyond the dawn of morn,
To where waste oceans wash Peruvia's shore,
Hast from all nations drawn thy boasted lore!
Helm of the world, whom seas and isles obey,
Though high thy honours, and though far thy sway,
Thy harp I crave, unfearful of thy frown;
Well may'st thou lend what erst was not thine own.
Come, thou old bass—I love thy lorldy swell,
With Dryden's twang, and Pope's malicious knell;
But now, so sore thy brazen chords are worn,
By peer, by pastor, and by bard forlorn;
By every grub that harps for venal ore,
And crab that grovels on the sandy shore:
I wot not if thy maker's aim has been
A harp, a fiddle, or a tambourine.
With Dryden's twang, and Pope's malicious knell;
But now, so sore thy brazen chords are worn,
By peer, by pastor, and by bard forlorn;
By every grub that harps for venal ore,
And crab that grovels on the sandy shore:
I wot not if thy maker's aim has been
A harp, a fiddle, or a tambourine.
Come, leave these lanes and sinks beside the sea;
Come to the silent moorland dale with me;
And thou shalt pour, along the mountain hoar,
A strain its echoes never waked before;
Thou shalt be strung where greenwood never grew,
Swept by the winds, and mellowed by the dew.
Come to the silent moorland dale with me;
And thou shalt pour, along the mountain hoar,
A strain its echoes never waked before;
Thou shalt be strung where greenwood never grew,
Swept by the winds, and mellowed by the dew.
Sing of the globes our travellers viewed, that lie
Around the sun, enveloped in the sky:
Thy music slightly must the veil withdraw
From lands they visited and scenes they saw;
From lands, where love and goodness ever dwell;
Where famine, blight, or mildew never fell;
Where face of man is ne'er o'erspread with gloom,
And woman smiles for ever in her bloom:
And thou must sing of wicked worlds beneath,
Where flit the visions and the hues of death.
Around the sun, enveloped in the sky:
Thy music slightly must the veil withdraw
From lands they visited and scenes they saw;
From lands, where love and goodness ever dwell;
Where famine, blight, or mildew never fell;
Where face of man is ne'er o'erspread with gloom,
And woman smiles for ever in her bloom:
And thou must sing of wicked worlds beneath,
Where flit the visions and the hues of death.
The first they saw, though different far the scene,
Compared with that where they had lately been,
To all its dwellers yielded full delight.
Long was the day, and long and still the night;
The groves were dark and deep, the waters still;
The raving streamlets murmured from the hill.
It was the land where faithful lovers dwell,
Beyond the grave's unseemly sentinel;
Where, free of jealousy, their mortal bane,
And all the ills of sickness and of pain,
In love's delights they bask without alloy—
The night their transport, and the day their joy.
The broadened sun, in chamber and alcove,
Shines daily on their morning couch of love;
And in the evening grove, while linnets sing,
And silent bats wheel round on flittering wing,
Still in the dear embrace their souls are lingering.
Compared with that where they had lately been,
To all its dwellers yielded full delight.
Long was the day, and long and still the night;
135
The raving streamlets murmured from the hill.
It was the land where faithful lovers dwell,
Beyond the grave's unseemly sentinel;
Where, free of jealousy, their mortal bane,
And all the ills of sickness and of pain,
In love's delights they bask without alloy—
The night their transport, and the day their joy.
The broadened sun, in chamber and alcove,
Shines daily on their morning couch of love;
And in the evening grove, while linnets sing,
And silent bats wheel round on flittering wing,
Still in the dear embrace their souls are lingering.
“Oh! tell me, Cela,” said the earthly maid,
“Must all these beauteous dames like woman fade?
In our imperfect world, it is believed
That those who most have loved the most have grieved;
That love can every power of earth control,
Can conquer kings and chain the hero's soul;
While all the woes and pains that women prove,
Have each their poignance and their source from love.
What law of nature has reversed the doom,
If these may always love and always bloom?”
“Must all these beauteous dames like woman fade?
In our imperfect world, it is believed
That those who most have loved the most have grieved;
That love can every power of earth control,
Can conquer kings and chain the hero's soul;
While all the woes and pains that women prove,
Have each their poignance and their source from love.
What law of nature has reversed the doom,
If these may always love and always bloom?”
“Look round thee, maid beloved, and thou shalt see,
As journeying o'er this happy world with me,
That no decrepitude nor age is here;
No autumn comes the human bloom to sere;
For these have lived in worlds of mortal breath,
And all have passed the dreary bourne of death:
Can'st thou not mark their purity of frame,
Though still their forms and features are the same?”
As journeying o'er this happy world with me,
That no decrepitude nor age is here;
No autumn comes the human bloom to sere;
For these have lived in worlds of mortal breath,
And all have passed the dreary bourne of death:
Can'st thou not mark their purity of frame,
Though still their forms and features are the same?”
Replied the maid, “no difference I can scan,
Save in the fair meridian port of man,
And woman fresh as roses newly sprung:
If these have died, they all have died when young.”
Save in the fair meridian port of man,
And woman fresh as roses newly sprung:
If these have died, they all have died when young.”
“Thou art as artless as thy heart is good;
This in thy world is not yet understood:
But wheresoe'er we wander to and fro,
In heaven above or in the deep below,
What thou misconstruest I shall well explain,
Be it in angel's walk or mortal reign,
In sun, moon, stars, in mountain, or in main.
This in thy world is not yet understood:
But wheresoe'er we wander to and fro,
In heaven above or in the deep below,
What thou misconstruest I shall well explain,
Be it in angel's walk or mortal reign,
In sun, moon, stars, in mountain, or in main.
“Know then, that every globe which thou hast seen,
Varied with valleys, seas, and forests green,
Are all conformed, in subtilty of clime,
To beings sprung from out the womb of time;
And all the living groups where'er they be,
Of worlds which thou hast seen or thou may'st see,
Wherever sets the eve and dawns the morn,
Are all of mankind—all of woman born.
The globes from heaven which most at distance lie
Are nurseries of life to these so nigh;
In those the minds for evermore to be
Must dawn and rise with smiling infancy.
Varied with valleys, seas, and forests green,
Are all conformed, in subtilty of clime,
To beings sprung from out the womb of time;
And all the living groups where'er they be,
Of worlds which thou hast seen or thou may'st see,
Wherever sets the eve and dawns the morn,
Are all of mankind—all of woman born.
The globes from heaven which most at distance lie
Are nurseries of life to these so nigh;
In those the minds for evermore to be
Must dawn and rise with smiling infancy.
“Thus 'tis ordained—these grosser regions yield
Souls, thick as blossoms of the vernal field,
Which after death, in relative degree,
Fairer or darker as their minds may be,
To other worlds are led, to learn and strive
Till to perfection all at last arrive.
This once conceived, the ways of God are plain,
But thy unyielding race in errors will remain.
Souls, thick as blossoms of the vernal field,
Which after death, in relative degree,
Fairer or darker as their minds may be,
To other worlds are led, to learn and strive
Till to perfection all at last arrive.
This once conceived, the ways of God are plain,
But thy unyielding race in errors will remain.
“These beauteous dames, who glow with love unstained,
Like thee were virgins, but not so remained.
Not to thy sex this sere behest is given—
They are the garden of the God of heaven:
Of beauties numberless and woes the heir,
The tree was reared immortal fruit to bear;
And she, all selfish choosing to remain,
Nor share of love the pleasures and the pain,
Was made and cherished by her God in vain.
She sinks into the dust a nameless thing,
No son the requiem o'er her grave to sing;
While she who gives to human beings birth,
Immortal here, is living still on earth—
Still in her offspring lives, to fade and bloom,
Flourish and spread through ages long to come.
Like thee were virgins, but not so remained.
Not to thy sex this sere behest is given—
They are the garden of the God of heaven:
Of beauties numberless and woes the heir,
The tree was reared immortal fruit to bear;
And she, all selfish choosing to remain,
Nor share of love the pleasures and the pain,
Was made and cherished by her God in vain.
She sinks into the dust a nameless thing,
No son the requiem o'er her grave to sing;
While she who gives to human beings birth,
Immortal here, is living still on earth—
Still in her offspring lives, to fade and bloom,
Flourish and spread through ages long to come.
“Now mark me, maiden—why that wistful look?
Though woman must those pains and passions brook,
Beloved of God and fairest of his plan,
Note how she smiles, superior still to man,
As well it her behoves; for was not he
Lulled on her breast and nursed upon her knee?
Her foibles and her failings may be rife,
While toiling through the snares and ills of life;
But he who framed her nature knows her pains,
Her heart dependant, and tumultuous veins,
And many faults the world heap on her head,
Will never there be harshly visited.
Proud haughty man, the nursling of her care,
Must more than half her crimes and errors bear.
If flowrets droop and fade before their day;
If others sink neglected in the clay:
If trees too rankly earthed too rathly blow,
And others neither fruit nor blossom know,
Let human reason equal judgment frame:
Is it the flower, the tree, or gardener's blame?
Though woman must those pains and passions brook,
Beloved of God and fairest of his plan,
Note how she smiles, superior still to man,
As well it her behoves; for was not he
Lulled on her breast and nursed upon her knee?
Her foibles and her failings may be rife,
While toiling through the snares and ills of life;
But he who framed her nature knows her pains,
Her heart dependant, and tumultuous veins,
And many faults the world heap on her head,
Will never there be harshly visited.
Proud haughty man, the nursling of her care,
Must more than half her crimes and errors bear.
If flowrets droop and fade before their day;
If others sink neglected in the clay:
If trees too rankly earthed too rathly blow,
And others neither fruit nor blossom know,
Let human reason equal judgment frame:
Is it the flower, the tree, or gardener's blame?
“Thou see'st them lovely—so they will remain;
For when the soul and body meet again,
No 'vantage will be held of age, or time,
United at their fairest fullest prime.
The form when purest, and the soul most sage,
Beauty with wisdom shall have heritage,
The form of comely youth, the experience of age.
For when the soul and body meet again,
No 'vantage will be held of age, or time,
United at their fairest fullest prime.
The form when purest, and the soul most sage,
Beauty with wisdom shall have heritage,
The form of comely youth, the experience of age.
“When to thy kindred thou shalt this relate
Of man's immortal and progressive state,
No credit thou wilt gain; for they are blind,
And would, presumptuous, the Eternal bind,
Either perpetual blessings to bestow,
Or plunge the souls he framed in endless woe.
Of man's immortal and progressive state,
No credit thou wilt gain; for they are blind,
And would, presumptuous, the Eternal bind,
Either perpetual blessings to bestow,
Or plunge the souls he framed in endless woe.
136
“This is the land of lovers, known afar,
And named the Evening and the Morning Star.
Oft, with rapt eye, thou hast its rising seen,
Above the holy spires of old Lindeen;
And marked its tiny beam diffuse a hue
That tinged the paleness of the morning blue;
Ah! did'st thou deem it was a land so fair?
Or that such peaceful 'habitants were there?
And named the Evening and the Morning Star.
Oft, with rapt eye, thou hast its rising seen,
Above the holy spires of old Lindeen;
And marked its tiny beam diffuse a hue
That tinged the paleness of the morning blue;
Ah! did'st thou deem it was a land so fair?
Or that such peaceful 'habitants were there?
“See'st thou yon gloomy sphere, thro' vapours dun,
That wades in crimson like the sultry sun?
There let us bend our course, and mark the fates
Of mighty warriors, and of warriors' mates;
For there they toil 'mid troubles and alarms,
The drums and trumpets sounding still to arms;
Till by degrees, when ages are outgone,
And happiness and comfort still unknown,
Like simple babes, the land of peace to win,
The task of knowledge sorrowful begin,
By the enlightened philosophic mind,
More than a thousand ages left behind.
That wades in crimson like the sultry sun?
There let us bend our course, and mark the fates
Of mighty warriors, and of warriors' mates;
For there they toil 'mid troubles and alarms,
The drums and trumpets sounding still to arms;
Till by degrees, when ages are outgone,
And happiness and comfort still unknown,
Like simple babes, the land of peace to win,
The task of knowledge sorrowful begin,
By the enlightened philosophic mind,
More than a thousand ages left behind.
“Oh what a world of vanity and strife!
For what avails the stage of mortal life,
If to the last the fading frame is worn,
The same unknowing creature it was born?
Where shall the spirit rest? where shall it go?
Or how enjoy a bliss it does not know?
It must be taught in darkness and in pain,
Or beg the bosom of a child again.
Knowledge of all, avails the human kind
For all beyond the grave are joys of mind.”
For what avails the stage of mortal life,
If to the last the fading frame is worn,
The same unknowing creature it was born?
Where shall the spirit rest? where shall it go?
Or how enjoy a bliss it does not know?
It must be taught in darkness and in pain,
Or beg the bosom of a child again.
Knowledge of all, avails the human kind
For all beyond the grave are joys of mind.”
So swift and so untroubled was their flight,
'Twas like the journey of a dream by night;
And scarce had Mary ceased, with thought sedate,
To muse on woman's sacred estimate,
When on the world of warriors they alight,
Just on the confines of its day and night;
The purple light was waning west away,
And shoally darkness gained upon the day.
'Twas like the journey of a dream by night;
And scarce had Mary ceased, with thought sedate,
To muse on woman's sacred estimate,
When on the world of warriors they alight,
Just on the confines of its day and night;
The purple light was waning west away,
And shoally darkness gained upon the day.
“I love that twilight,” said the pilgrim fair,
“For more than earthly solemness is there.
See how the rubied waters winding roll;
A hoary doubtful hue involves the pole;
Uneasy murmurs float upon the wind,
And tenfold darkness rears its shades behind.
“For more than earthly solemness is there.
See how the rubied waters winding roll;
A hoary doubtful hue involves the pole;
Uneasy murmurs float upon the wind,
And tenfold darkness rears its shades behind.
“And lo! where, wrapt in deep vermilion shroud,
The daylight slumbers on the western cloud:
I love the scene!—Oh let us onward steer,
The light our steeds, the wind our charioteer!
And on the downy cloud impetuous hurled,
We'll with the twilight ring this warrior world.”
The daylight slumbers on the western cloud:
I love the scene!—Oh let us onward steer,
The light our steeds, the wind our charioteer!
And on the downy cloud impetuous hurled,
We'll with the twilight ring this warrior world.”
Along, along, along the nether sky,
The light before, the wreathed darkness nigh;
Along, along, through evening vapours blue,
Through tinted air and racks of drizzly dew,
The twain pursued their way, and heard afar
The moans and murmurs of the dying war;
The neigh of battle-steeds by field and wall,
That missed their generous comrades of the stall
Which, all undaunted, in the ranks of death.
Yielded, they knew not why, their honest breath;
And, far behind, the hill-wolf's hunger yell,
And watchword passed from drowsy sentinel.
The light before, the wreathed darkness nigh;
Along, along, through evening vapours blue,
Through tinted air and racks of drizzly dew,
The twain pursued their way, and heard afar
The moans and murmurs of the dying war;
The neigh of battle-steeds by field and wall,
That missed their generous comrades of the stall
Which, all undaunted, in the ranks of death.
Yielded, they knew not why, their honest breath;
And, far behind, the hill-wolf's hunger yell,
And watchword passed from drowsy sentinel.
Along, along, through mind's unwearied range,
It flies to the vicissitudes of change.
Our pilgrims of the twilight weary grew,
Transcendent was the scene, but never new;
They wheeled their rapid chariot from the light,
And pierced the bosom of the hideous night.
It flies to the vicissitudes of change.
Our pilgrims of the twilight weary grew,
Transcendent was the scene, but never new;
They wheeled their rapid chariot from the light,
And pierced the bosom of the hideous night.
So thick the darkness, and its veil so swarth,
All hues were gone of heaven and of the earth:
The watch-fire scarce like gilded glow-worm seemed;
No moon nor star along the concave beamed;
Without a halo flaming meteors flew,
Scarce did they shed a sullen sulphury blue;
Whizzing they passed, by folded vapours crossed,
And in a sea of darkness soon were lost.
All hues were gone of heaven and of the earth:
The watch-fire scarce like gilded glow-worm seemed;
No moon nor star along the concave beamed;
Without a halo flaming meteors flew,
Scarce did they shed a sullen sulphury blue;
Whizzing they passed, by folded vapours crossed,
And in a sea of darkness soon were lost.
Like pilgrim birds that o'er the ocean fly,
When lasting night and polar storms are nigh,
Enveloped in a rayless atmosphere,
By northern shores uncertain course they steer;
O'er thousand darkling billows flap the wing,
Till far is heard the welcome murmuring
Of mountain waves, o'er waste of waters tossed,
In fleecy thunder fall on Albyn's coast.
When lasting night and polar storms are nigh,
Enveloped in a rayless atmosphere,
By northern shores uncertain course they steer;
O'er thousand darkling billows flap the wing,
Till far is heard the welcome murmuring
Of mountain waves, o'er waste of waters tossed,
In fleecy thunder fall on Albyn's coast.
So passed the pilgrims through impervious night,
Till, in a moment, rose before their sight
A bound impassable of burning levin,
A wall of flame that reached from earth to heaven.
It was the light shed from the bloody sun,
In bootless blaze upon that cloud so dun;
Its gloom was such as not to be oppressed,
That those perturbed spirits might have rest.
Till, in a moment, rose before their sight
A bound impassable of burning levin,
A wall of flame that reached from earth to heaven.
It was the light shed from the bloody sun,
In bootless blaze upon that cloud so dun;
Its gloom was such as not to be oppressed,
That those perturbed spirits might have rest.
Now oped a scene, before but dimly seen,
A world of pride, of havoc, and of spleen;
A world of scathed soil and sultry air,
For industry and culture were not there.
The hamlets smoked in ashes on the plain;
The bones of men were bleaching in the rain;
And, piled in thousands, on the trenched heath
Stood warriors bent on vengeance and on death.
A world of pride, of havoc, and of spleen;
A world of scathed soil and sultry air,
For industry and culture were not there.
The hamlets smoked in ashes on the plain;
The bones of men were bleaching in the rain;
And, piled in thousands, on the trenched heath
Stood warriors bent on vengeance and on death.
“Ah!” said the youth, “we timely come to spy
A scene momentous, and a sequel high!
For late arrived on this disquiet coast
A fiend, that in Tartarian gulf was tossed,
And held, in tumult and commotion fell,
The gnashing legions through the bounds of hell
For ages past; but now, by Heaven's decree,
The prelude of some dread event to be
Is hither sent like desolating brand,
The scourge of God, the terror of the land!
He seems the passive elements to guide,
And stars in courses fight upon his side.
A scene momentous, and a sequel high!
For late arrived on this disquiet coast
A fiend, that in Tartarian gulf was tossed,
And held, in tumult and commotion fell,
The gnashing legions through the bounds of hell
For ages past; but now, by Heaven's decree,
The prelude of some dread event to be
Is hither sent like desolating brand,
The scourge of God, the terror of the land!
He seems the passive elements to guide,
And stars in courses fight upon his side.
137
“On yon high mountain will we rest and see
The omens of the times that are to be;
For all the wars of earth and deeds of weir
Are first performed by warrior spirits here;
So linked are souls by one eternal chain,
What these perform those needs must do again:
And thus the Almighty weighs each kingdom's date,
Each warrior's fortune, and each warrior's fate,
Making the future time with that has been
Work onward, rolling like a vast machine.”
The omens of the times that are to be;
For all the wars of earth and deeds of weir
Are first performed by warrior spirits here;
So linked are souls by one eternal chain,
What these perform those needs must do again:
And thus the Almighty weighs each kingdom's date,
Each warrior's fortune, and each warrior's fate,
Making the future time with that has been
Work onward, rolling like a vast machine.”
They sat them down on hills of Alpine form,
Above the whirlwind and the thunder-storm:
For in that land contiguous to the sun
The elements in wild obstruction run;
They saw the bodied flame the cloud impale,
Then river-like fleet down the sultry dale.
While basking in the sunbeam high they lay,
The hill was swathed in dark unseemly gray;
The downward rainbow hung across the rain,
And leaned its glowing arch upon the plain.
Above the whirlwind and the thunder-storm:
For in that land contiguous to the sun
The elements in wild obstruction run;
They saw the bodied flame the cloud impale,
Then river-like fleet down the sultry dale.
While basking in the sunbeam high they lay,
The hill was swathed in dark unseemly gray;
The downward rainbow hung across the rain,
And leaned its glowing arch upon the plain.
While thus they staid, they saw in wondrous wise
Armies and kings from out the cloud arise;
They saw great hosts and empires overrun,
War's wild extreme, and kingdoms lost and won:
The whole of that this age has lived to see,
With battles of the East long hence to be,
They saw distinct and plain, as human eye
Discerns the forms and objects passing by.
Long yet the time ere wasting war shall cease,
And all the world have liberty and peace!
Armies and kings from out the cloud arise;
They saw great hosts and empires overrun,
War's wild extreme, and kingdoms lost and won:
The whole of that this age has lived to see,
With battles of the East long hence to be,
They saw distinct and plain, as human eye
Discerns the forms and objects passing by.
Long yet the time ere wasting war shall cease,
And all the world have liberty and peace!
The pilgrims moved not—word they had not said,
While this mysterious boding vision staid;
But now the virgin, with disturbed eye,
Besought solution of the prodigy.
While this mysterious boding vision staid;
But now the virgin, with disturbed eye,
Besought solution of the prodigy.
“These all are future kings of earthly fame:
That wolfish fiend, from hell that hither came,
Over thy world in ages yet to be
Must desolation spread and slavery,
Till nations learn to know their estimate;
To be unanimous is to be great:
When right's own standard calmly is unfurled,
The people are the sovereigns of the world.
That wolfish fiend, from hell that hither came,
Over thy world in ages yet to be
Must desolation spread and slavery,
Till nations learn to know their estimate;
To be unanimous is to be great:
When right's own standard calmly is unfurled,
The people are the sovereigns of the world.
“Like one machine a nation's governing,
And that machine must have a moving spring;
But of what mould that moving spring should be,
'Tis the high right of nations to decree.
This mankind must be taught, though millions bleed,
That knowledge, truth, and liberty may spread.”
And that machine must have a moving spring;
But of what mould that moving spring should be,
'Tis the high right of nations to decree.
This mankind must be taught, though millions bleed,
That knowledge, truth, and liberty may spread.”
“What meant the vision 'mid the darksome cloud?
Some spirits rose as from unearthly shroud,
And joined their warrior brethren of the free;
Two souls inspired each, and some had three?”
Some spirits rose as from unearthly shroud,
And joined their warrior brethren of the free;
Two souls inspired each, and some had three?”
“These were the spirits of their brethren slain,
Who, thus permitted, rose and breathed again;
For still let reason this high truth recall,
The body's but a mould, the soul is all:
Those triple minds that all before them hurled,
Are called Silesians in this warrior world.”
Who, thus permitted, rose and breathed again;
For still let reason this high truth recall,
The body's but a mould, the soul is all:
Those triple minds that all before them hurled,
Are called Silesians in this warrior world.”
“Oh tell me, Cela, when shall be the time
That all the restless spirits of this clime,
Erring so widely in the search of bliss,
Shall win a milder, happier world than this?”
That all the restless spirits of this clime,
Erring so widely in the search of bliss,
Shall win a milder, happier world than this?”
“Not till they learn, with humbled hearts, to see
The falsehood of their fuming vanity.
What is the soldier but an abject fool—
A king's, a tyrant's, or a statesman's tool?
Some patriot few there are—but ah, how rare!
For vanity or interest still is there;
Or blindfold levity directs his way—
A licensed murderer that kills for pay.
Though fruitless ages thus be overpast,
Truth, love, and knowledge, must prevail at last.”
The falsehood of their fuming vanity.
What is the soldier but an abject fool—
A king's, a tyrant's, or a statesman's tool?
Some patriot few there are—but ah, how rare!
For vanity or interest still is there;
Or blindfold levity directs his way—
A licensed murderer that kills for pay.
Though fruitless ages thus be overpast,
Truth, love, and knowledge, must prevail at last.”
The pilgrims left that climate with delight,
Weary of battle and portentous sight.
Weary of battle and portentous sight.
It boots not all their wanderings to relate,
By globes immense and worlds subordinate,
For still my strain in mortal guise must flow:
Though swift as winged angels they might go,
The palled mind would meet no kind relay,
And dazzled fancy wilder by the way.
By globes immense and worlds subordinate,
For still my strain in mortal guise must flow:
Though swift as winged angels they might go,
The palled mind would meet no kind relay,
And dazzled fancy wilder by the way.
They found each clime with mental joys replete,
And all for which its 'habitants were meet.
They saw a watery world of sea and shore,
Where the rude sailor swept the flying oar,
And drove his bark like lightning o'er the main,
Proud of his prowess, of her swiftness vain;
Held revel on the shore with stormy glee,
Or sung his boisterous carol on the sea.
And all for which its 'habitants were meet.
They saw a watery world of sea and shore,
Where the rude sailor swept the flying oar,
And drove his bark like lightning o'er the main,
Proud of his prowess, of her swiftness vain;
Held revel on the shore with stormy glee,
Or sung his boisterous carol on the sea.
They saw the land where bards delighted stray,
And beauteous maids that love the melting lay;
One mighty hill they clomb with earnest pain,
For ever clomb but higher did not gain:
Their gladsome smiles were mixed with frowns severe;
For all were bent to sing, and none to hear.
And beauteous maids that love the melting lay;
One mighty hill they clomb with earnest pain,
For ever clomb but higher did not gain:
Their gladsome smiles were mixed with frowns severe;
For all were bent to sing, and none to hear.
Far in the gloom they found a world accursed,
Of all the globes the dreariest and the worst.
But there they could not sojourn, though they would,
For all the language was of mystic mood,
A jargon, nor conceived nor understood;
It was of deeds, respondents, and replies,
Dark quibbles, forms, and condescendencies:
And they would argue with vociferous breath,
For months and days, as if the point were death;
And when at last enforced to agree,
'Twas only how the argument should be!
Of all the globes the dreariest and the worst.
But there they could not sojourn, though they would,
For all the language was of mystic mood,
A jargon, nor conceived nor understood;
It was of deeds, respondents, and replies,
Dark quibbles, forms, and condescendencies:
And they would argue with vociferous breath,
For months and days, as if the point were death;
And when at last enforced to agree,
'Twas only how the argument should be!
They saw the land of bedesmen discontent,
Their frames their god, their tithes their testament;
And snarling critics bent with aspect sour
T'applaud the great and circumvent the poor;
And knowing patriots, with important face,
Raving aloud with gesture and grimace—
Their prize a land's acclaim, or proud and gainful place.
Then by a land effeminate they passed,
Where silks and odours floated in the blast:
A land of vain and formal compliment,
Where won the flippant belles and beaux magnificent.
Their frames their god, their tithes their testament;
And snarling critics bent with aspect sour
T'applaud the great and circumvent the poor;
And knowing patriots, with important face,
Raving aloud with gesture and grimace—
138
Then by a land effeminate they passed,
Where silks and odours floated in the blast:
A land of vain and formal compliment,
Where won the flippant belles and beaux magnificent.
They circled nature on their airy wain,
From God's own throne unto the realms of pain;
For there are prisons in the deep below,
Where wickedness sustains proportioned woe,
Nor more nor less; for the Almighty still
Suits to our life the goodness and the ill.
From God's own throne unto the realms of pain;
For there are prisons in the deep below,
Where wickedness sustains proportioned woe,
Nor more nor less; for the Almighty still
Suits to our life the goodness and the ill.
Oh! it would melt the living heart with woe,
Were I to sing the agonies below;
The hatred nursed by those who cannot part;
The hardened brow, the seared and sullen heart;
The still defenceless look, the stifled sigh,
The writhed lip, the staid despairing eye,
Which ray of hope may never lighten more,
Which cannot shun, yet dares not look before.
Oh! these are themes reflection would forbear,
Unfitting bard to sing or maid to hear;
Yet these they saw in downward realms prevail,
And listened many a sufferer's hapless tale,
Who all allowed that rueful misbelief
Had proved the source of their eternal grief;
And all the Almighty punisher arraigned
For keeping back that knowledge they disdained.
Were I to sing the agonies below;
The hatred nursed by those who cannot part;
The hardened brow, the seared and sullen heart;
The still defenceless look, the stifled sigh,
The writhed lip, the staid despairing eye,
Which ray of hope may never lighten more,
Which cannot shun, yet dares not look before.
Oh! these are themes reflection would forbear,
Unfitting bard to sing or maid to hear;
Yet these they saw in downward realms prevail,
And listened many a sufferer's hapless tale,
Who all allowed that rueful misbelief
Had proved the source of their eternal grief;
And all the Almighty punisher arraigned
For keeping back that knowledge they disdained.
“Ah!” Cela said, as up the void they flew,
“The axiom's just—the inference is true;
Therefore no more let doubts thy mind enthral,
Through nature's range thou see'st a God in all:
Where is the mortal law that can restrain
The atheist's heart that broods o'er thoughts profane?
Soon fades the soul's and virtue's dearest tie,
When all the future closes from the eye.”—
By all, the earth-born virgin plainly saw
Nature's unstaid, unalterable law;
That human life is but the infant stage
Of a progressive, endless pilgrimage
To woe, or state of bliss, by bard unsung,
At that eternal fount where being sprung.
“The axiom's just—the inference is true;
Therefore no more let doubts thy mind enthral,
Through nature's range thou see'st a God in all:
Where is the mortal law that can restrain
The atheist's heart that broods o'er thoughts profane?
Soon fades the soul's and virtue's dearest tie,
When all the future closes from the eye.”—
By all, the earth-born virgin plainly saw
Nature's unstaid, unalterable law;
That human life is but the infant stage
Of a progressive, endless pilgrimage
To woe, or state of bliss, by bard unsung,
At that eternal fount where being sprung.
When these wild wanderings all were past and done,
Just in the red beam of the parting sun,
Our pilgrims skimmed along the light of even,
Like flitting stars that cross the nightly heaven,
And lighting on the verge of Phillip plain,
They trode the surface of the world again.
Just in the red beam of the parting sun,
Our pilgrims skimmed along the light of even,
Like flitting stars that cross the nightly heaven,
And lighting on the verge of Phillip plain,
They trode the surface of the world again.
Arm linked in arm, they walked to green Bowhill:
At their approach the woods and lawns grew still;
The little birds to brake and bush withdrew,
The merl away unto Blackandro flew;
The twilight held its breath in deep suspense,
And looked its wonder in mute eloquence.
At their approach the woods and lawns grew still;
The little birds to brake and bush withdrew,
The merl away unto Blackandro flew;
The twilight held its breath in deep suspense,
And looked its wonder in mute eloquence.
They reached the bower, where first, at Mary's knee
Cela arose her guide through heaven to be.
All, all was still—no living thing was seen;
No human footstep marked the daisied green;
The youth looked round, as something were unmeet
Or wanting there to make their bliss complete.
They paused—they sighed—then with a silent awe
Walked onward to the halls of Carelha'.
Cela arose her guide through heaven to be.
All, all was still—no living thing was seen;
No human footstep marked the daisied green;
The youth looked round, as something were unmeet
Or wanting there to make their bliss complete.
They paused—they sighed—then with a silent awe
Walked onward to the halls of Carelha'.
They heard the squires and yeomen, all intent,
Talking of some mysterious event;
They saw the maidens in dejection mourn,
Scarce daring glance unto a yeoman turn.
Straight to the inner chamber they repair,
Mary beheld her widowed mother there,
Flew to her arms, to kiss her and rejoice:
Alas! she saw her not nor heard her voice,
But sat unmoved with many a bitter sigh,
Tears on her cheek, and sorrow in her eye!
In sable weeds her lady form was clad,
And the white lawn waved mournful round her head.
Mary beheld, arranged in order near,
The very robes she last on earth did wear;
And shrinking from the disregarded kiss,
“Oh, tell me, Cela!—tell me what is this?”
Talking of some mysterious event;
They saw the maidens in dejection mourn,
Scarce daring glance unto a yeoman turn.
Straight to the inner chamber they repair,
Mary beheld her widowed mother there,
Flew to her arms, to kiss her and rejoice:
Alas! she saw her not nor heard her voice,
But sat unmoved with many a bitter sigh,
Tears on her cheek, and sorrow in her eye!
In sable weeds her lady form was clad,
And the white lawn waved mournful round her head.
Mary beheld, arranged in order near,
The very robes she last on earth did wear;
And shrinking from the disregarded kiss,
“Oh, tell me, Cela!—tell me what is this?”
“Fair maiden of the pure and guileless heart,
As yet thou knowest not how nor what thou art;—
Come, I will lead thee to yon hoary pile,
Where sleep thy kindred in their storied isle:
There I must leave thee in this world below;
'Tis meet thy land these holy truths should know:
But, Mary, yield not thou to bootless pain,
Soon we shall meet, and never part again.”
As yet thou knowest not how nor what thou art;—
Come, I will lead thee to yon hoary pile,
Where sleep thy kindred in their storied isle:
There I must leave thee in this world below;
'Tis meet thy land these holy truths should know:
But, Mary, yield not thou to bootless pain,
Soon we shall meet, and never part again.”
He took her hand, she dared not disobey,
But, half reluctant, followed him away.
They paced along on Ettrick's margin green,
And reached the hoary fane of old Lindeen:
It was a scene to curdle maiden's blood—
The massy church-yard gate wide open stood;
The stars were up, the valley steeped in dew,
The baleful bat in silent circles flew;
No sound was heard, except the lonely rail
Harping his ordinal adown the dale;
And soft and slow upon the breezes light
The rush of Ettrick breathed along the night.
Dark was the pile, and green the tombs beneath,
And dark the gravestones on the sward of death.
But, half reluctant, followed him away.
They paced along on Ettrick's margin green,
And reached the hoary fane of old Lindeen:
It was a scene to curdle maiden's blood—
The massy church-yard gate wide open stood;
The stars were up, the valley steeped in dew,
The baleful bat in silent circles flew;
No sound was heard, except the lonely rail
Harping his ordinal adown the dale;
And soft and slow upon the breezes light
The rush of Ettrick breathed along the night.
Dark was the pile, and green the tombs beneath,
And dark the gravestones on the sward of death.
Within the railed space appeared to view
A grave new opened—thitherward they drew;
And there beheld, within its mouldy womb,
A living, moving tenant of the tomb!
It was an aged monk, uncouth to see,
Who held a sheeted corpse upon his knee,
And busy, busy, with the form was he!
At their approach he uttered howl of pain,
Till echoes groaned it from the holy fane,
Then fled amain.—Ah! Cela, too, is gone;
And Mary stands within the grave alone!
With her fair guide her robes of heaven are fled,
And round her fall the garments of the dead!
A grave new opened—thitherward they drew;
And there beheld, within its mouldy womb,
A living, moving tenant of the tomb!
It was an aged monk, uncouth to see,
Who held a sheeted corpse upon his knee,
And busy, busy, with the form was he!
At their approach he uttered howl of pain,
Till echoes groaned it from the holy fane,
Then fled amain.—Ah! Cela, too, is gone;
And Mary stands within the grave alone!
With her fair guide her robes of heaven are fled,
And round her fall the garments of the dead!
Here I must seize my ancient harp again,
And chaunt a simple tale, a most uncourtly strain.
And chaunt a simple tale, a most uncourtly strain.
| The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd | |