The Legend of St. Loy With Other Poems. By John Abraham Heraud |
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 | The Legend of St. Loy |  |
XIV.
Roused by the clamour and the yell,Sprang Edwy now before the cell.
What sees he there, that thus he stands
With haggard eyes, and lifted hands?
“O, holy Virgin! —Almar, speed!
“Man's made to mourn! his heart to bleed!
“Behold, the Heavens are all on fire!
“The night, with conflagration dire,
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“In blood-red hue doth burn and glow.
“See Toteham's vast, high, foggy wood,
“Discovered by the broad, bright flood.
“On her own Western brow, in light,
“Shines All Saint's Gothic, towery height.
“The Parish Church of Tottenham is dedicated to All Saints.” William Robinson's “History and Antiquities of the Parish of Tottenham High Cross, 1818.”
“The time of its erection, the cause of its dedication to All Saints, or Sanctis Dominis, to God and his holy Dons, or Doms, as the old English sacramental obligation used to spell it, I cannot yet account for.” Lord Viscount Coleraine (as before).
Surely, then, a Poet has license to suppose it in existence at any time, if to his own advantage.
“Where join the clouds with the misty hill,
“There the deep blood-red mingles still —
“A blazing canopy, around
“With fiery horizon bound!
“O Christ! that desolate spot behold!
“Where the flames in volumes are upward roll'd,
“Whence, o'er the land, this lustre dread
“Flashes around, and overhead.
“The bickering sparks are cast on high,
“In awful grandeur, to the sky!
“The blasts of night assist the fire,
“And aggravate its furious ire!
“Oh, now, methinks, I hear the cry,
“The shrieks of female agony,
“As th' inmates wild from room to room
“Flee in vain from their wretched doom.—
“And the flame gushes out wherever they enter,
“And a thick cloud of smoke coils them up in its centre;
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“To the window-cill, whence they hoped to fling
“Themselves, in mere despair, that seeks
“Refuge in death it strives to shun,
“When terror but within us speaks,
“And peril leaves a choice to none:
“Their hold yet fearing to forego,
“And drop into the void below!
“But some have fallen exhausted there,
“And left their lives in middle air;
“Or in the smouldering flames beneath
“Find torture, and a lingering death!
“The scene is present to mine eyes —
“Blended with this approaching noise,
“It wakes strange thoughts of doubt and fear,
“'Lothbroch wrought that consuming glare!
“Lo! light of torches hither flare;
“Those sounds swell more distinct and near!”
—“And nearer yet, the horrid yell!
“Jesu Maria, shield us well!”
| The Legend of St. Loy | |