Alfred An Heroic Poem, in Twenty-Four Books. By Joseph Cottle: 4th ed. |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. | BOOK VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
 | Alfred |  |
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BOOK VII.
ARGUMENT.
ALFRED meets an Army of Saxons, fleeing into Wales from Ivar; he persuades them to accompany him to Selwood Forest; meets his troops; sends heralds to arouse his Subjects.
Slow from the cottage door of Ethelney,
Languid at heart, tho' fix'd in his resolve,
The king departed, whilst his fancy pored
On Oddune, close confined, and haply forced
To war with famine: who, both night and morn,
Perchance from watch-tower top, gazed earnestly
To hail approaching succour. Alfred too
Dwelt on Alswitha's fate—that harrowing thought,
The inmate of his mind, that evermore,
When other sorrows came, an entrance gave,
Yet not possession. As he Selwood sought,
In bitterness of spirit, thus he cried.
Languid at heart, tho' fix'd in his resolve,
The king departed, whilst his fancy pored
On Oddune, close confined, and haply forced
To war with famine: who, both night and morn,
Perchance from watch-tower top, gazed earnestly
To hail approaching succour. Alfred too
Dwelt on Alswitha's fate—that harrowing thought,
The inmate of his mind, that evermore,
When other sorrows came, an entrance gave,
Yet not possession. As he Selwood sought,
In bitterness of spirit, thus he cried.
‘Oh, what the cares of him who wears a crown,
‘And feels its heavy charge! What are his woes,
‘The prince, who knows his duties, and revolves
‘At noon, and night—at eve and early morn,
‘What best may serve his subjects, but perceives
‘Crosses and endless barriers throng his way.
‘Ruler of Heaven! Almighty Sire! O, grant
‘Thy guidance and protection; Thy support,
‘In this last struggle for my country's cause!’
‘And feels its heavy charge! What are his woes,
‘The prince, who knows his duties, and revolves
‘At noon, and night—at eve and early morn,
‘What best may serve his subjects, but perceives
‘Crosses and endless barriers throng his way.
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‘Thy guidance and protection; Thy support,
‘In this last struggle for my country's cause!’
Whilst musing thus, with wonder he beheld
A host of strangers. Nearer now they come:
They knew their monarch by the port he bore;
When, with one general shout, aloud they cry,
‘Our King! Our King! Long live our glorious King!’
Alfred, advancing, thus the band address'd:
‘Friends, and brave subjects, cheering is your sight
‘At this lone hour. But, wherefore on your march?
‘And whither bound?’ Their leader thus replied:
‘O, king, we bear sad tidings! there are now,
‘Just landed on thy shores, a host of Danes,
‘Greater than eye hath witness'd and their chief,
‘Ivar the fierce. The company thou seest
‘Are bound to Cambria, for on English soil
‘Thro' Danes, the scourge, the wasters of all lands,
‘Safety is far away.’
A host of strangers. Nearer now they come:
They knew their monarch by the port he bore;
When, with one general shout, aloud they cry,
‘Our King! Our King! Long live our glorious King!’
Alfred, advancing, thus the band address'd:
‘Friends, and brave subjects, cheering is your sight
‘At this lone hour. But, wherefore on your march?
‘And whither bound?’ Their leader thus replied:
‘O, king, we bear sad tidings! there are now,
‘Just landed on thy shores, a host of Danes,
‘Greater than eye hath witness'd and their chief,
‘Ivar the fierce. The company thou seest
‘Are bound to Cambria, for on English soil
‘Thro' Danes, the scourge, the wasters of all lands,
‘Safety is far away.’
Alfred replied,
Indignant at his subjects' cowardice,
‘Men! with your king return, and scorn to flee.
‘Who dares invade our soil!’ When one replied:
‘We must at such a time resist e'en thee.
‘Death hovers round. Our welfare is in flight,
‘And we have vow'd, all that before thee stand,
‘To seek in other climes, that safe retreat
‘Thy kingdom cannot yield.’
Indignant at his subjects' cowardice,
‘Men! with your king return, and scorn to flee.
‘Who dares invade our soil!’ When one replied:
‘We must at such a time resist e'en thee.
‘Death hovers round. Our welfare is in flight,
‘And we have vow'd, all that before thee stand,
‘To seek in other climes, that safe retreat
‘Thy kingdom cannot yield.’
Alfred arous'd
From transient slumber, now was hastening fast
To meet his subjects: poring with delight
On future contests, courage bravely tried,
And many a deed, magnanimous, that led
To certain triumph; but when he beheld,
In those he met, the ignoble soul, that shrank
From glorious enterprize, he felt his heart
Sink with such killing damp, as he endures
Who, journeying o'er some rude and barren waste,
Perchance Helsingia, or those desert hills
Tydal or Doffrin, where the whirlwind roars,
Eternal, whilst the eddying snows drift round,
And tempests rave,—sounding their ceaseless war;—
As he endures, while toiling o'er these scenes
Of dread magnificence, and in the joys
Of home partaking, when he sees, aghast,
The bridge, that o'er the boisterous torrent hung,
From clift to clift, borne from its giddy height,
And the loud bellowing tide impassable.
From transient slumber, now was hastening fast
To meet his subjects: poring with delight
On future contests, courage bravely tried,
And many a deed, magnanimous, that led
To certain triumph; but when he beheld,
In those he met, the ignoble soul, that shrank
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Sink with such killing damp, as he endures
Who, journeying o'er some rude and barren waste,
Perchance Helsingia, or those desert hills
Tydal or Doffrin, where the whirlwind roars,
Eternal, whilst the eddying snows drift round,
And tempests rave,—sounding their ceaseless war;—
As he endures, while toiling o'er these scenes
Of dread magnificence, and in the joys
Of home partaking, when he sees, aghast,
The bridge, that o'er the boisterous torrent hung,
From clift to clift, borne from its giddy height,
And the loud bellowing tide impassable.
After a moment's pause, Alfred replied:
‘Before you go, I know that you will hear,
‘Patient, your monarch.’ Round they all approach,
When thus he spake:
‘Before you go, I know that you will hear,
‘Patient, your monarch.’ Round they all approach,
When thus he spake:
‘Subjects! tho' absent long
‘I have been planning for you, and am now
‘Returning in your cause. The adverse hour
‘We all have known, yet, let us not despair,
‘And we shall conquer. Think how Saxons met
‘In former times, the Caledonian host,
‘Fierce from their snowy mountains! Think again,
‘How we, undaunted, faced that daring man—
‘Rollo the Norman, when upon our coast
‘His navy rode, and less than Saxon heart
‘(Such was his might) had awed, but, in our strength,
‘We dared him, and the robber chieftain fled
‘To ravage weaker climes. So shall the foe,
‘That now assaults us, flee. Before the wrath
‘Of injured Saxons, weak the hostile spear,
‘And weak the hand that guides it. Ills may rise,
‘Many, and threaten to destroy our race,
‘The very name of Saxon, but, the day,
‘The glorious day of triumph hastens fast.
‘There is a point in human wretchedness
‘Beyond whose bound, the wretched cannot feel,
‘And nothing here is lasting. We have felt,
‘Each that before me stands, that prostrate state,
‘That absence of all hope, and we may now
‘Look on to happier times. Cheer up, brave men!
‘The king whom you have served, and by whose side
‘Met the fierce fight undaunted, now demands
‘Your further aid, and shall he plead in vain?
‘In desp'rate hour like this, will you forsake
‘Me, your liege Prince? Seek ignominious flight?
‘Have I thus fought and suffered, now to hear
‘The voice of disobedience?—now to find
‘A coward's heart in Saxon? am I doom'd
‘To reign, but not to rule, and at this time,
‘Behold you shun the conflict, when the foe
‘Spreads rapine o'er our land? It cannot be!
‘Some Fiend hath spread the calumny; the sound
‘Came from the air, for never Saxon tongue
‘Dealt in such words.—
‘I have been planning for you, and am now
‘Returning in your cause. The adverse hour
‘We all have known, yet, let us not despair,
‘And we shall conquer. Think how Saxons met
‘In former times, the Caledonian host,
‘Fierce from their snowy mountains! Think again,
‘How we, undaunted, faced that daring man—
‘Rollo the Norman, when upon our coast
‘His navy rode, and less than Saxon heart
‘(Such was his might) had awed, but, in our strength,
‘We dared him, and the robber chieftain fled
‘To ravage weaker climes. So shall the foe,
‘That now assaults us, flee. Before the wrath
‘Of injured Saxons, weak the hostile spear,
‘And weak the hand that guides it. Ills may rise,
‘Many, and threaten to destroy our race,
‘The very name of Saxon, but, the day,
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‘There is a point in human wretchedness
‘Beyond whose bound, the wretched cannot feel,
‘And nothing here is lasting. We have felt,
‘Each that before me stands, that prostrate state,
‘That absence of all hope, and we may now
‘Look on to happier times. Cheer up, brave men!
‘The king whom you have served, and by whose side
‘Met the fierce fight undaunted, now demands
‘Your further aid, and shall he plead in vain?
‘In desp'rate hour like this, will you forsake
‘Me, your liege Prince? Seek ignominious flight?
‘Have I thus fought and suffered, now to hear
‘The voice of disobedience?—now to find
‘A coward's heart in Saxon? am I doom'd
‘To reign, but not to rule, and at this time,
‘Behold you shun the conflict, when the foe
‘Spreads rapine o'er our land? It cannot be!
‘Some Fiend hath spread the calumny; the sound
‘Came from the air, for never Saxon tongue
‘Dealt in such words.—
‘My subjects! I have long
‘Endured a weighty burden, I have lived,
‘Goaded with cares, which filled my mind by day,
‘And, when night came, assumed a character
‘Ten-fold more fearful. What have I sustain'd
‘These ills for?—to support a crazy crown?
‘For what have I defied the elements,
‘And bared my head, and 'mid the hottest strife,
‘Mix'd undismay'd?—to guard the name of King?
‘Thou know'st, O heart! that now art beating high,
‘Thou know'st it was not! These my feet have toil'd
‘This mind hath ponder'd, and this head endured
‘Life's crushing cares for nobler purposes!—
‘Whom have you dared the fight for? for your king?
‘To save yourselves? or, hurl destruction's brand
‘Fierce on the Danes? No! nobler views were yours.
‘You fought for liberty. You fought to save
‘All that is dear in life—your peaceful homes
‘Your helpless sires, your wives, your innocents!
‘And, not for these alone, but, distant heirs—
‘For generations yet unborn, the race
‘Of future Saxons, down to farthest time;
‘Who, oft as they shall hear what we endured
‘To guard their rights, the precious blood we shed
‘To make their lives secure, and bid the form
‘Of holy Freedom rise engirt with flowers
‘Of amaranthine hue, shall look to Heaven,
‘And with no common fervour bless the names
‘Of us their great forefathers, who for them,
‘Endured, but triumph'd—suffered, but obtain'd.—
‘Now boldly I advance to meet the foe;
‘And you whose souls shrink with the coward's fear,
‘Turn not to me! Haste to your safe retreat,
‘And joy, if joy you can, when far away,
‘To think of those who suffer'd from your flight,
‘To think for what your brethren fought and died.’
Alfred his sword unsheath'd, the scabbard cast
Far in the air, and singly marched along.
All follow'd, shouting, ‘Death or Victory!’
‘Endured a weighty burden, I have lived,
‘Goaded with cares, which filled my mind by day,
‘And, when night came, assumed a character
‘Ten-fold more fearful. What have I sustain'd
‘These ills for?—to support a crazy crown?
‘For what have I defied the elements,
‘And bared my head, and 'mid the hottest strife,
‘Mix'd undismay'd?—to guard the name of King?
‘Thou know'st, O heart! that now art beating high,
‘Thou know'st it was not! These my feet have toil'd
‘This mind hath ponder'd, and this head endured
‘Life's crushing cares for nobler purposes!—
‘Whom have you dared the fight for? for your king?
‘To save yourselves? or, hurl destruction's brand
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‘You fought for liberty. You fought to save
‘All that is dear in life—your peaceful homes
‘Your helpless sires, your wives, your innocents!
‘And, not for these alone, but, distant heirs—
‘For generations yet unborn, the race
‘Of future Saxons, down to farthest time;
‘Who, oft as they shall hear what we endured
‘To guard their rights, the precious blood we shed
‘To make their lives secure, and bid the form
‘Of holy Freedom rise engirt with flowers
‘Of amaranthine hue, shall look to Heaven,
‘And with no common fervour bless the names
‘Of us their great forefathers, who for them,
‘Endured, but triumph'd—suffered, but obtain'd.—
‘Now boldly I advance to meet the foe;
‘And you whose souls shrink with the coward's fear,
‘Turn not to me! Haste to your safe retreat,
‘And joy, if joy you can, when far away,
‘To think of those who suffer'd from your flight,
‘To think for what your brethren fought and died.’
Alfred his sword unsheath'd, the scabbard cast
Far in the air, and singly marched along.
All follow'd, shouting, ‘Death or Victory!’
‘Alfred beheld and cried, ‘Ye gallant host,
‘Receive my praises. Now again I see
‘My former subjects; now th' inspiring hope
‘Of triumph and prosperity makes glad,
‘The heart, once sinking; now the time draws near
‘When Saxons, long estranged from happiness,
‘May forward look and smile. Your country's hope,
‘To Selwood's forest near I lead you on.
‘Yet, first approach, who dar'd resist my will,
‘And talk'd of flight rather than victory.’
Trembling, the man drew near; when thus the king.
‘Coward! be this thy punishment. Away!
‘Flee thou to Cambria. By thyself depart,
‘And we will fight thy battles. We will screen
‘Thy children from the fury of the Danes.’
‘Receive my praises. Now again I see
‘My former subjects; now th' inspiring hope
‘Of triumph and prosperity makes glad,
‘The heart, once sinking; now the time draws near
‘When Saxons, long estranged from happiness,
‘May forward look and smile. Your country's hope,
‘To Selwood's forest near I lead you on.
‘Yet, first approach, who dar'd resist my will,
‘And talk'd of flight rather than victory.’
Trembling, the man drew near; when thus the king.
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‘Flee thou to Cambria. By thyself depart,
‘And we will fight thy battles. We will screen
‘Thy children from the fury of the Danes.’
The man replied, ‘Pardon an erring mind.
‘'Till these thy words I knew not the full cause
‘For which we combat. Now I see aright.
‘My heart is true, and if I do not hence
‘Fight manfully, and due atonement make
‘For past offence—let my sons curse their sire.’
Alfred replied: ‘Saxon my wrath is past!
‘Th' Almighty asks no more, and why should man.
‘Thou art my friend.’ This having said, they all,
Sought the near forest Selwood.
‘'Till these thy words I knew not the full cause
‘For which we combat. Now I see aright.
‘My heart is true, and if I do not hence
‘Fight manfully, and due atonement make
‘For past offence—let my sons curse their sire.’
Alfred replied: ‘Saxon my wrath is past!
‘Th' Almighty asks no more, and why should man.
‘Thou art my friend.’ This having said, they all,
Sought the near forest Selwood.
Braver men
Ne'er combated misfortune, than who dwelt
Embower'd there. When first they heard their king
Cry, ‘March to Selwood. Thither shall ye find
‘Hope and your prince together;’ on they march'd,
And in their monarch's ills forgot their own.
They there a fortress rear'd entrench'd and strong,
And peace was with them. Round a little hill
They pitch'd their tents, with trees all cover'd o'er,
The growth of ages, 'mid whose spreading limbs
Of beech, and oak, and elm, the castle rose,
Cheering each Saxon's heart.—
Ne'er combated misfortune, than who dwelt
Embower'd there. When first they heard their king
Cry, ‘March to Selwood. Thither shall ye find
‘Hope and your prince together;’ on they march'd,
And in their monarch's ills forgot their own.
They there a fortress rear'd entrench'd and strong,
And peace was with them. Round a little hill
They pitch'd their tents, with trees all cover'd o'er,
The growth of ages, 'mid whose spreading limbs
Of beech, and oak, and elm, the castle rose,
Cheering each Saxon's heart.—
And when the hour,
The silent hour of sunset, deep'ning slow,
Made grey the forest, on the roots of trees,
Or stones, or mosses, many a mournful group
Sat with fix'd brow, and told some direful tale
Of Danish cruelty, hair-breadth escapes,
Or, filled with sorrow, mourn'd their fallen friends.
The silent hour of sunset, deep'ning slow,
Made grey the forest, on the roots of trees,
Or stones, or mosses, many a mournful group
Sat with fix'd brow, and told some direful tale
Of Danish cruelty, hair-breadth escapes,
Or, filled with sorrow, mourn'd their fallen friends.
'Twas on a tranquil eve when thus they sat,
Communing. In her glory the fair moon
Shone over head. The breeze of night was still,
And quietness, unbroken quietness,
Mark'd all around; save where the bittern's voice
Came from far distance, making yet more plain
The silence universal. When one spake:—
‘Dread apprehensions fill my mind. I feel
‘Fears, searching—for our wise and noble king.
‘In wretched state he left us. Sad his heart;
‘And in the depth of hard disquietude
‘He bade us all farewell. Such wrongs are his,
‘That, how his brain may suffer, we may hope,
‘But cannot say. I mark'd his last address;
‘He seem'd bewilder'd. Never shall I more
‘Our king behold! his road was perilous,
‘And some avenging Dane, or Melancholy,
‘Or Frenzy wild, hath on him seiz'd, and then
‘Where is the hope of Britons? Here we are,
‘Eating our pittance, but at length ordain'd
‘To death or abject servitude.’ No tongue
Answered the warrior, and, as mute they sat,
A noise is heard! Each upward sprang and cried,
‘To arms! The enemy!’
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Shone over head. The breeze of night was still,
And quietness, unbroken quietness,
Mark'd all around; save where the bittern's voice
Came from far distance, making yet more plain
The silence universal. When one spake:—
‘Dread apprehensions fill my mind. I feel
‘Fears, searching—for our wise and noble king.
‘In wretched state he left us. Sad his heart;
‘And in the depth of hard disquietude
‘He bade us all farewell. Such wrongs are his,
‘That, how his brain may suffer, we may hope,
‘But cannot say. I mark'd his last address;
‘He seem'd bewilder'd. Never shall I more
‘Our king behold! his road was perilous,
‘And some avenging Dane, or Melancholy,
‘Or Frenzy wild, hath on him seiz'd, and then
‘Where is the hope of Britons? Here we are,
‘Eating our pittance, but at length ordain'd
‘To death or abject servitude.’ No tongue
Answered the warrior, and, as mute they sat,
A noise is heard! Each upward sprang and cried,
‘To arms! The enemy!’
Scarce had they said,
When each appear'd, clad in his war array.
Spies are appointed. Now the fearful noise
Draws nearer, and more loud and terrible
It sounded in their ears. The chieftains still
Ponder how best to act, when one exclaim'd,
‘The trying hour is come. I know yon voice.
‘It is the shout of Danes! Some traitorous tongue
‘Hath told them our retreat, and they are now
‘Hastening to meet us. We have lost our king,
‘But not our courage.’ All, their swords displayed,
And clash'd their shields, and felt the fixed resolve
To die or triumph. Wistfully they look'd,
Each silent, when they saw the spies approach.
They cry, ‘The king! He comes, our monarch comes!’
Forth with wild ecstasy they rush, while now
The springs of hope burst forth, and shouts arise,
Startling the tranquil sky.
When each appear'd, clad in his war array.
Spies are appointed. Now the fearful noise
Draws nearer, and more loud and terrible
It sounded in their ears. The chieftains still
Ponder how best to act, when one exclaim'd,
‘The trying hour is come. I know yon voice.
‘It is the shout of Danes! Some traitorous tongue
‘Hath told them our retreat, and they are now
‘Hastening to meet us. We have lost our king,
‘But not our courage.’ All, their swords displayed,
And clash'd their shields, and felt the fixed resolve
To die or triumph. Wistfully they look'd,
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They cry, ‘The king! He comes, our monarch comes!’
Forth with wild ecstasy they rush, while now
The springs of hope burst forth, and shouts arise,
Startling the tranquil sky.
Alfred his friends,
Well-known, beheld. He sees their glistening eyes
Speak clear of exultation. Glad at heart,
He would have greeted each, embraced them all,
But all had equal claims, and where to turn
He knew not, pond'ring still. So feels the man
Who after wearying toil, has reach'd at length
Some lofty summit, from whose brow, his eye
Roams o'er the space below; tho' charm'd with all,
Yet gazing idly; doubtful where to fix
His ravish'd sight, on distant hill, or mead,
Or woody vale, or foaming cataract,—
Like some huge serpent, with its glittering scales,
Coiling o'er crags, or with its line of light
Streaking the mount,—as sleeping in its joy;
So still it seems, by distance sooth'd to rest.
Alfred prepared to speak, but still the shouts—
‘Long live our king!’ drown'd each inferior sound;
When on he pass'd, surrounded by a host
Of loud-rejoicing subjects. Now the king
Approach'd the citadel, and, from the bank,
High heap'd, that belted it, addressed his troops.
Well-known, beheld. He sees their glistening eyes
Speak clear of exultation. Glad at heart,
He would have greeted each, embraced them all,
But all had equal claims, and where to turn
He knew not, pond'ring still. So feels the man
Who after wearying toil, has reach'd at length
Some lofty summit, from whose brow, his eye
Roams o'er the space below; tho' charm'd with all,
Yet gazing idly; doubtful where to fix
His ravish'd sight, on distant hill, or mead,
Or woody vale, or foaming cataract,—
Like some huge serpent, with its glittering scales,
Coiling o'er crags, or with its line of light
Streaking the mount,—as sleeping in its joy;
So still it seems, by distance sooth'd to rest.
Alfred prepared to speak, but still the shouts—
‘Long live our king!’ drown'd each inferior sound;
When on he pass'd, surrounded by a host
Of loud-rejoicing subjects. Now the king
Approach'd the citadel, and, from the bank,
High heap'd, that belted it, addressed his troops.
‘Saxons and friends beloved! you thus to meet,
‘After short absence, in some common time,
‘Would waken pleasure, but to see you now
‘With hearts your own, unconquer'd, and prepared
‘Once more to serve your country,—warms my breast
‘With exultation, such as clothes in shade
‘Past sorrows, now retiring like a dream.
‘Yet memory checks the ardour of my speech.
‘When last we parted, many a heavy care
‘Press'd on my heart, but since that cheerless hour,
‘My woes have doubled. She whom I adored,—
‘Your queen—Alswitha, now, no longer lives!
‘The Danes have murder'd her!’
‘After short absence, in some common time,
‘Would waken pleasure, but to see you now
‘With hearts your own, unconquer'd, and prepared
‘Once more to serve your country,—warms my breast
‘With exultation, such as clothes in shade
‘Past sorrows, now retiring like a dream.
‘Yet memory checks the ardour of my speech.
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‘Press'd on my heart, but since that cheerless hour,
‘My woes have doubled. She whom I adored,—
‘Your queen—Alswitha, now, no longer lives!
‘The Danes have murder'd her!’
The rising wind,
That at that instant swept across the trees—
Their topmost branches spreading more and more,
Till every limb, both far and near, obey'd
The general impulse, seem'd to imitate
The murmur that at first around the king
Rose in slow-moving sounds, then spread itself,
Till every Saxon heard the doleful news.
That at that instant swept across the trees—
Their topmost branches spreading more and more,
Till every limb, both far and near, obey'd
The general impulse, seem'd to imitate
The murmur that at first around the king
Rose in slow-moving sounds, then spread itself,
Till every Saxon heard the doleful news.
Alfred again: ‘If ever man endured
‘Perplexities and sore disquietude,
‘That man am I! I, for Alswitha feel,
‘For you, my friends, your children yet unborn.
‘Hence, learn of me your monarch.—Late, I saw
‘The hopeless prospect, and despair endured,
‘Palsying the heart! but now, when deeper wrongs
‘Have press'd me down, my soul, elastic, spurns
‘Its feeble trammels, and to action calls
‘Its firm and latent powers. A little grief
‘Hearts may o'erwhelm, when ills of bolder sort
‘Meet due resistance—such has been my lot.
‘This is my resolution. I am come
‘To dare again the war; to claim once more,
‘Warriors! your final efforts; to arouse
‘Each Saxon, and inspire his heart anew.
‘What tho' the base Northumbrian shun the fight,
‘And Mercia in this dark extremity,
‘Withhold her promised succour, let our hearts
‘Glow with intenser zeal. Let Wessex' sons
‘Shine greatest in misfortune. Let us rise,
‘And bid distrust, stand off! despair, avaunt!
‘And learn that courage, arm'd in freedom's cause,
‘No barrier knows.—Think, oh ye list'ning host!
‘How many injur'd spirits round us throng,
‘And urge us to the fight! how many tongues
‘Of children and of mothers, wives and friends,
‘Plead at the throne of justice for our cause,
‘And us, their brave defenders! Think again
‘Of future generations, who shall feel
‘The blaze of liberty, or eat the bread
‘Of anguish and subjection.’—Louder yet,
Sounded through all the air, the general shout,
‘Long live our monarch! Death or victory!’
When thus again the king;
‘Perplexities and sore disquietude,
‘That man am I! I, for Alswitha feel,
‘For you, my friends, your children yet unborn.
‘Hence, learn of me your monarch.—Late, I saw
‘The hopeless prospect, and despair endured,
‘Palsying the heart! but now, when deeper wrongs
‘Have press'd me down, my soul, elastic, spurns
‘Its feeble trammels, and to action calls
‘Its firm and latent powers. A little grief
‘Hearts may o'erwhelm, when ills of bolder sort
‘Meet due resistance—such has been my lot.
‘This is my resolution. I am come
‘To dare again the war; to claim once more,
‘Warriors! your final efforts; to arouse
‘Each Saxon, and inspire his heart anew.
‘What tho' the base Northumbrian shun the fight,
‘And Mercia in this dark extremity,
‘Withhold her promised succour, let our hearts
‘Glow with intenser zeal. Let Wessex' sons
‘Shine greatest in misfortune. Let us rise,
‘And bid distrust, stand off! despair, avaunt!
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‘No barrier knows.—Think, oh ye list'ning host!
‘How many injur'd spirits round us throng,
‘And urge us to the fight! how many tongues
‘Of children and of mothers, wives and friends,
‘Plead at the throne of justice for our cause,
‘And us, their brave defenders! Think again
‘Of future generations, who shall feel
‘The blaze of liberty, or eat the bread
‘Of anguish and subjection.’—Louder yet,
Sounded through all the air, the general shout,
‘Long live our monarch! Death or victory!’
When thus again the king;
‘I know too well
‘What Saxon heart is made of, to suspect
‘Your resolution, bold and gallant men!
‘Yet, know that courage, courage good and true,
‘Thinks deep, and, from a view dispassionate,
‘Looks well around; in silence calculates
‘Each possibility; then calmly plans—
‘What best may lead to a triumphant end.
‘This you have done, and heaven will prosper you.—
‘Disastrous news prevails! Ivar the Dane
‘On Saxon soil hath landed, with new hordes
‘Bent on our utter ruin. Undismay'd
‘I heard the tidings. It inflamed my heart
‘With more determin'd zeal, and from mine eyes
‘Tore the thick film. I then beheld this truth,—
‘Most clear,—that nothing now could Britain save
‘But her own innate courage, with the smiles
‘Of him who smiles on courage, when the cause
‘Like ours is just.—Soon as to-morrow's sun
‘Illumes the east, a chosen band shall speed
‘Throughout our towns and villages, to call
‘All men to arms, in whom there still survives
‘One latent spark of love to home, or friends,
‘Country, or king:—to tell them with a voice—
‘Oracular, that if they now should fail
‘To join our standard, and let cowardice
‘Unnerve their spirits, hope itself is fled,
‘And we must hence crouch at the conqueror's car!
‘What Saxon heart is made of, to suspect
‘Your resolution, bold and gallant men!
‘Yet, know that courage, courage good and true,
‘Thinks deep, and, from a view dispassionate,
‘Looks well around; in silence calculates
‘Each possibility; then calmly plans—
‘What best may lead to a triumphant end.
‘This you have done, and heaven will prosper you.—
‘Disastrous news prevails! Ivar the Dane
‘On Saxon soil hath landed, with new hordes
‘Bent on our utter ruin. Undismay'd
‘I heard the tidings. It inflamed my heart
‘With more determin'd zeal, and from mine eyes
‘Tore the thick film. I then beheld this truth,—
‘Most clear,—that nothing now could Britain save
‘But her own innate courage, with the smiles
‘Of him who smiles on courage, when the cause
‘Like ours is just.—Soon as to-morrow's sun
‘Illumes the east, a chosen band shall speed
‘Throughout our towns and villages, to call
‘All men to arms, in whom there still survives
‘One latent spark of love to home, or friends,
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‘Oracular, that if they now should fail
‘To join our standard, and let cowardice
‘Unnerve their spirits, hope itself is fled,
‘And we must hence crouch at the conqueror's car!
‘Not so,’—full many a warrior round exclaim'd,
‘Nor at to-morrow's dawn will we depart
‘To rouse thy people, we will, undismay'd,
‘This instant leave thee. Yonder silver orb
‘Shall light our steps, and many a gallant man
‘Soon crowd around thy standard.’
‘Nor at to-morrow's dawn will we depart
‘To rouse thy people, we will, undismay'd,
‘This instant leave thee. Yonder silver orb
‘Shall light our steps, and many a gallant man
‘Soon crowd around thy standard.’
Forth they speed—
To range thro' Wessex, calling all to arms.
To range thro' Wessex, calling all to arms.
| Alfred | |