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The Legend of St. Loy

With Other Poems. By John Abraham Heraud
Heraud, John A. (1799-1887)
  
[epigraph]
  
[dedication]

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[section]
  
SONNET
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THE LEGEND of ST. Loy
  
Introduction.
collapse section1. 
CANTO THE FIRST. The Hermitage.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
 III. 
III.
 IV. 
IV.
 V. 
V.
 VI. 
VI.
 VII. 
VII.
 VIII. 
VIII.
 IX. 
IX.
 X. 
X.
 XI. 
XI.
 XII. 
XII.
 XIII. 
XIII.
 XIV. 
XIV.
 XV. 
XV.
 XVI. 
XVI.
 XVII. 
XVII.
 XVIII. 
XVIII.
 XIX. 
XIX.
 XX. 
XX.
 XXI. 
XXI.
 XXII. 
XXII.
 XXIII. 
XXIII.
 XXIV. 
XXIV.
 XXV. 
XXV.
 XXVI. 
XXVI.
 XXVII. 
XXVII.
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CANTO THE SECOND. The Well of St. Loy.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
 III. 
III.
 IV. 
IV.
 V. 
V.
 VI. 
VI.
 VII. 
VII.
 VIII. 
VIII.
 IX. 
IX.
 X. 
X.
 XI. 
XI.
 XII. 
XII.
 XIII. 
XIII.
 XIV. 
XIV.
 XV. 
XV.
 XVI. 
XVI.
 XVII. 
XVII.
 XVIII. 
XVIII.
 XIX. 
XIX.
  
[section]
 XX. 
XX.
 XXI. 
XXI. The Song of Edwy.
 XXII. 
XXII.
 XXIII. 
XXIII.
 XXIV. 
XXIV.
 XXV. 
XXV.
 XXVI. 
XXVI.
 XXVII. 
XXVII.
 XXVIII. 
XXVIII.
 XXIX. 
XXIX.
 XXX. 
XXX.
 XXXI. 
XXXI.
 XXXII. 
XXXII.
 XXXIII. 
XXXIII.
 XXXIV. 
XXXIV.
 XXXV. 
XXXV.
 XXXVI. 
XXXVI.
 XXXIII. 
XXXIII.
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CANTO THE THIRD. The Wood.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
 III. 
III.
 IV. 
IV.
 V. 
V.
 VI. 
VI.
 VII. 
VII.
 VIII. 
VIII.
 IX. 
IX.
 X. 
X.
 XI. 
XI.
 XII. 
XII.
 XIII. 
XIII.
 XIV. 
XIV.
 XV. 
XV.
 XVI. 
XVI.
 XVII. 
XVII.
 XVIII. 
XVIII.
 XIX. 
XIX.
 XX. 
XX.
 XXI. 
XXI.
 XXII. 
XXII.
 XXIII. 
XXIII.
 XXIV. 
XXIV.
 XXV. 
XXV.
 XXVI. 
XXVI.
 XXVII. 
XXVII.
 XXVIII. 
XXVIII.
 XXIX. 
XXIX.
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CANTO THE FOURTH. The Vola.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
 III. 
III.
 IV. 
IV.
 V. 
V.
 VI. 
VI.
 VII. 
VII.
 VIII. 
VIII.
 IX. 
IX.
 X. 
X.
 XI. 
XI.
 XII. 
XII.
 XIII. 
XIII.
 XIV. 
XIV.
 XV. 
XV.
 XVI. 
XVI.
 XVII. 
XVII.
 XVIII. 
XVIII.
 XIX. 
XIX.
 XX. 
XX.
 XXI. 
XXI.
 XXII. 
XXII.
 XXIII. 
XXIII.
 XXIV. 
XXIV.
 XXV. 
XXV.
 XXVI. 
XXVI. The Hymn.
  
Conclusion.
  
THE Farewell to Cottenham.
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POEMS.
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THE Lament of the Bard.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
 III. 
III.
 IV. 
IV.
 V. 
V.
 VI. 
VI.
 VII. 
VII.
 VIII. 
VIII.
  
On attaining the Age of Twenty-one
  
THE Grave of the Bard
  
SONG, to---
  
STANZAS On the Death of His Most Gracious Majesty KING GEORGE THE THIRD.
  
SONNET TO ROBERT SOUTHEY, ESQ.

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XXVI.

As starting from his phrensied dream
To Reason's dim-returning gleam,
Almar, on Edwy's breast sustained,
Wondered the calm that silent reigned.
“How still! how awful!”—trembling he:—
“Like silence dead of sepulchre,
“After the bustle of this stage
“Of earth, of care, of mortal rage!
“Or, like that silence, deep and dread,
“When Michael's trump hath waked the dead,
“Which shall succeed its summons high,
“And wait the judgments of the sky!
43

“But soft — and dream I not? — and have
“They borne thee to their horrid cave?
“Oh, how will thine unwonted sight
“Behold the hideous deeds of Night?
“Behold the rites of Hell, abhorred?
“And Demons rising to his word?
“The spell-appalling change of wile
“Thy heart from Virtue to beguile?
“Oh, they will blast thy tender eye,
“Beneath its lid to pale and die!—
“How shall thine ears sustain the yell,
“The orgies of his fiendish cell?
“Oh, they will sink beneath the wound,
“And never more admit a sound:
“No more, within the evening vale,
“List to the lovelorn nightingale!
“But thou wilt petrify for aye
“In his chill power, and pass away:
“Then find, in cold Obstruction's gloom,
“The end of all thy sorrows come!
“Hell on thy soul, thou man of ill,
“Infernal giant, wild of will,
44

“Impress its fangs in its dark den!
“While she in endless bliss shall reign!
“Thou, Lady fair of wretchedness,
“God pity thee in thy distress!
“I love thee for thy voice alone,
“So like my Arabella's tone!
“What father had not felt as wild
“As I, so long from his dear child,
“Parted so long?—so very long,
“Estranged by mine, and not thy wrong!—
“Why, when a father's heart of love,
“Like cypress, weeps the tomb above
“Where lies inurned his daughter's heart,
“With whom his hopes did all depart;

Almar's had not all departed, as the Reader will perceive from his Story in the next Canto. His daughter might still be living. The other was a stronger argument to excuse the shock, which his pride — the principal trait in his character—had sustained.


“Oh, think ye that he will not deem
“Each gale her voice, in sorrow's dream?
“Yes, and will bless the weeping trees,
“That rustle with the sighing breeze;
“Form from the sounds her voice so dear,
“Turn them to words, and answer her;
“Bless the sweet spirit that from above
“Soothes him with whispers of her love!”
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