Malvern Hills with Minor Poems, and Essays. By Joseph Cottle. Fourth Edition |
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THE DISTRACTED MINSTREL.
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 | Malvern Hills |  |
194
THE DISTRACTED MINSTREL.
THE SONG OF A SURVIVING BARD, AFTER THE SLAUGHTER OF HIS BRETHREN AT MONA.
LIKE a watch-tower, I stand, on the verge of the sea,
Whilst the tempest aroused in his vehemence raves;
The deep tones of ocean, how fearful they be,
When the storm wraps in darkness the mountainous waves!
Whilst the tempest aroused in his vehemence raves;
The deep tones of ocean, how fearful they be,
When the storm wraps in darkness the mountainous waves!
What transports are these! like myself, in despair,
The white-headed billows dash madly the shore:
I love the rude tumult, the rocking of air,
And music to me is this perilous roar.
The white-headed billows dash madly the shore:
I love the rude tumult, the rocking of air,
And music to me is this perilous roar.
Behold! the red thunderbolt ranges the sky!
Beside, rides a Spirit! Ere beheld, he is past!
Ah! seize in thine anger the bolts as they fly,
And crush me, an atom, upwhirl'd on the blast.
Beside, rides a Spirit! Ere beheld, he is past!
Ah! seize in thine anger the bolts as they fly,
And crush me, an atom, upwhirl'd on the blast.
I once dwelt with men; I have laugh'd o'er their tomb,
Ah, no, I have wept, and fresh tears I will shed.
What shadow is that—which still deepens the gloom?
I see it! It speaks! ah, the vision is fled!
Ah, no, I have wept, and fresh tears I will shed.
What shadow is that—which still deepens the gloom?
I see it! It speaks! ah, the vision is fled!
Ye lightnings burst round me! your terrors I hail!
Come, drest in fresh vengeance, thou torrent of fire!
With destruction, o'erwhelming, all Nature assail,
And let the last gleam of existence expire.
Come, drest in fresh vengeance, thou torrent of fire!
With destruction, o'erwhelming, all Nature assail,
And let the last gleam of existence expire.
The earth with foul spells hence to Demons is bound,
If I look to the sky, their dread legions appear;
If I mark the wide waters conflicting around,
Each wave is a car for the beings I fear.
If I look to the sky, their dread legions appear;
If I mark the wide waters conflicting around,
Each wave is a car for the beings I fear.
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My Harp! is it thou? hast thou seen me forlorn?—
In his anguish, one friend cheers old Caradoc's sight.
Thou art dearer to me than the blush of the morn
To the mariner wreck'd in the blackness of night.
In his anguish, one friend cheers old Caradoc's sight.
Thou art dearer to me than the blush of the morn
To the mariner wreck'd in the blackness of night.
Oppress'd, and forsaken, thy sympathies bear;
O come, whilst I lean on thy joys as I go,
I will strive to forget a vile world with its care,
And pluck from my heart the deep arrow of woe.
O come, whilst I lean on thy joys as I go,
I will strive to forget a vile world with its care,
And pluck from my heart the deep arrow of woe.
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Off! Off! fiends accursed! In confounding array,
They have seized my sweet harp! From the clouds, dark and dread,
Lo! a whirlwind advances! O, bear me away
On thy wild wing of fury to rest with the dead.
They have seized my sweet harp! From the clouds, dark and dread,
Lo! a whirlwind advances! O, bear me away
On thy wild wing of fury to rest with the dead.
| Malvern Hills | |