 | Miscellaneous Poems |  |
54
HEVER CASTLE, KENT.
[_]
Hever Castle was the residence of Sir Thomas Boleyn; and Anne Boleyn resided here when courted by Henry VIII. I saw her chamber, with the bed and furniture, as when inhabited by her. The tomb of Sir Thomas Boleyn is the only one belonging to the family remaining in the church of Hever.
“Strange dream for one so young!” I musing said,
As, with slow step, I climb'd the turret-stair;
Her toilet by the casement stood, her bed
Of curtain'd silk, and tapestried couch, were there.
It was the very chamber where she lay,—
Unchanged, though changeful years had pass'd away.
As, with slow step, I climb'd the turret-stair;
Her toilet by the casement stood, her bed
Of curtain'd silk, and tapestried couch, were there.
It was the very chamber where she lay,—
Unchanged, though changeful years had pass'd away.
“Strange dream for one so young!” yet fancies wild,
We know, unsought for, cross the wearied brain,
When Sleep has Reason of her power beguil'd,
And comes, with all her wild fantastic train,
Mocking the mind with semblance.—Let her weep,
If sorrow comes, it comes but in the dreams of sleep.
We know, unsought for, cross the wearied brain,
When Sleep has Reason of her power beguil'd,
And comes, with all her wild fantastic train,
Mocking the mind with semblance.—Let her weep,
If sorrow comes, it comes but in the dreams of sleep.
55
But why of sorrow speak? Herself she saw,
In her own hall, mid festal lamps serene,
Leading the dance; and he, whom all with awe
Beheld, knelt to her as to Beauty's queen;
Hung on her crimson'd cheek, and whisper'd there
Words that breath'd o'er her like enchanted air.
In her own hall, mid festal lamps serene,
Leading the dance; and he, whom all with awe
Beheld, knelt to her as to Beauty's queen;
Hung on her crimson'd cheek, and whisper'd there
Words that breath'd o'er her like enchanted air.
He spake of love that nothing could destroy,
Mocking all time and change; he kiss'd the tear
That dimm'd her soft and downcast eye:—“Enjoy,”
He said, “a monarch's love, unmix'd with fear:”—
And something, too, he spake of one in pain,
Who long enthralled had worn an old and galling chain.
Mocking all time and change; he kiss'd the tear
That dimm'd her soft and downcast eye:—“Enjoy,”
He said, “a monarch's love, unmix'd with fear:”—
And something, too, he spake of one in pain,
Who long enthralled had worn an old and galling chain.
It fled; but when again in sleep repos'd,
Sitting with dark and clouded brows, she saw
Grave bearded Churchmen, in long synod clos'd,
With wrinkled fingers pointing to the law;
And Legates, posting over land and sea:
And much she marvell'd then, for whom those things could be.
Sitting with dark and clouded brows, she saw
Grave bearded Churchmen, in long synod clos'd,
With wrinkled fingers pointing to the law;
And Legates, posting over land and sea:
And much she marvell'd then, for whom those things could be.
But lo! to brighter scenes the conclave chang'd,
For sound of silver clarions shook the air,
And joust, and tournament, and champions, rang'd
In order due, the bridal feast declare;
And one of princely form approach'd the maid,
And, bending, at her feet the regal sceptre laid.
For sound of silver clarions shook the air,
And joust, and tournament, and champions, rang'd
In order due, the bridal feast declare;
And one of princely form approach'd the maid,
And, bending, at her feet the regal sceptre laid.
56
A regal crown her beauteous forehead graced,
And he she lov'd was with her on the throne;
But ever those whom smiling Fortune placed
On flattering heights, has fickle Chance o'erthrown;
Or envious Time, or Destiny, who hides
In awful clouds the hand that o'er man's fate presides.
And he she lov'd was with her on the throne;
But ever those whom smiling Fortune placed
On flattering heights, has fickle Chance o'erthrown;
Or envious Time, or Destiny, who hides
In awful clouds the hand that o'er man's fate presides.
For once again the changeful vision show'd
An aged queen array'd in weeds of woe;
Stern was the look she wore, deep sorrows flow'd
From that great heart, and deathly was the blow:
And so, in injured majesty, she laid
Her steadfast eye of scorn upon the trembling maid.
An aged queen array'd in weeds of woe;
Stern was the look she wore, deep sorrows flow'd
From that great heart, and deathly was the blow:
And so, in injured majesty, she laid
Her steadfast eye of scorn upon the trembling maid.
And still her eye was fix'd; yet never word
From those pale lips, nor living accent came;
Nor marvel if no shade of pity stirr'd
That queenly mind,—for violated fame
Was hers,—insulted majesty and pride,
And on her rightful throne sate the incestuous bride.
From those pale lips, nor living accent came;
Nor marvel if no shade of pity stirr'd
That queenly mind,—for violated fame
Was hers,—insulted majesty and pride,
And on her rightful throne sate the incestuous bride.
But fair the star of love still o'er her rose;
And Youth, what bright and golden hours are thine!
Shielding, for so thou canst, from earthly woes,
By transitory gift of powers divine;
Nor speak of wrongs by her, but let her be,
As in her maiden bloom, unblemish'd still and free.
And Youth, what bright and golden hours are thine!
Shielding, for so thou canst, from earthly woes,
By transitory gift of powers divine;
Nor speak of wrongs by her, but let her be,
As in her maiden bloom, unblemish'd still and free.
57
But soon that blooming cheek like marble grew,
And quench'd how soon was love's ethereal flame;
And ever, as each wandering rumour flew,
Sudden and dark the clouds of evil came.
Estrangèd eyes she met, perplexing fears,
And those whom most she loved, pass'd by with tears.
And quench'd how soon was love's ethereal flame;
And ever, as each wandering rumour flew,
Sudden and dark the clouds of evil came.
Estrangèd eyes she met, perplexing fears,
And those whom most she loved, pass'd by with tears.
And then they spake of one, as false as fair,—
False to her virgin vows; nor did they rest
Till they had led her on in wild despair,
And her poor heart was breaking in her breast.
How could it be, that sland'rous tongues in scorn
Could wound a maid like her, so fair and so forlorn?
False to her virgin vows; nor did they rest
Till they had led her on in wild despair,
And her poor heart was breaking in her breast.
How could it be, that sland'rous tongues in scorn
Could wound a maid like her, so fair and so forlorn?
The earth grew dark beneath her feet with shade
Of coming ills, and dark the morning sky
To one in clouds of deepest thought betray'd,
Plunging from woe to woe in agony.
And so she wander'd on, in grief and shame,
While still on heavier wing the night of sorrow came.
Of coming ills, and dark the morning sky
To one in clouds of deepest thought betray'd,
Plunging from woe to woe in agony.
And so she wander'd on, in grief and shame,
While still on heavier wing the night of sorrow came.
For then, in dream or vision once again,
Confusèd sights and shapes mysterious rose,—
Shadows she knew not what, and forms of pain,
And fearful moanings heard at evening's close.
Grim towers appear'd, and many a dungeon-stair,
Winding in darkness far into the misty air.
Confusèd sights and shapes mysterious rose,—
Shadows she knew not what, and forms of pain,
And fearful moanings heard at evening's close.
Grim towers appear'd, and many a dungeon-stair,
Winding in darkness far into the misty air.
58
A lidless coffin at her feet was seen;
His gleaming axe the sullen headsman bore;
Strange sounds and sights forlorn rose up between:—
But lo! the Morn unbars her silver door;
The earth is glittering bright with vernal dew,
And from her trembling couch the affrighted maiden flew.
His gleaming axe the sullen headsman bore;
Strange sounds and sights forlorn rose up between:—
But lo! the Morn unbars her silver door;
The earth is glittering bright with vernal dew,
And from her trembling couch the affrighted maiden flew.
And all to soothe a troubled mind was there,
In sight or sound. The lark his early song
Of joy was trilling in the morning air;
The stock-dove's voice was heard the woods among;
While, one by one, from out the sedgy brake,
The swans came sailing down the bright and silvery lake.
In sight or sound. The lark his early song
Of joy was trilling in the morning air;
The stock-dove's voice was heard the woods among;
While, one by one, from out the sedgy brake,
The swans came sailing down the bright and silvery lake.
Green rose the Kentish hills;—in rich array
The forests spread their leafy umbrage round;
Hawthorn and hazel-copse were blooming gay,
And orchard-crofts with fragrant woodbine crown'd.
How pleas'd she saw, leading his waters pale,
Her own sweet Eden glide adown that pastoral vale!
The forests spread their leafy umbrage round;
Hawthorn and hazel-copse were blooming gay,
And orchard-crofts with fragrant woodbine crown'd.
How pleas'd she saw, leading his waters pale,
Her own sweet Eden glide adown that pastoral vale!
All things awoke to life in earth and air,
Low murmurs crept along the wooded dells;
The wild deer stirr'd from out their ferny lair;
The bee was humming in the cowslip bells.
And now to sylvan lodge, or hamlet grey,
Slowly the wandering kine were moving on their way.
Low murmurs crept along the wooded dells;
The wild deer stirr'd from out their ferny lair;
The bee was humming in the cowslip bells.
And now to sylvan lodge, or hamlet grey,
Slowly the wandering kine were moving on their way.
59
But, like the victim of some lonely spell,
Slow from her mind the dreams of darkness fled;
And still those cold and deathly breathings fell,
That late had brooded o'er her midnight bed;
Speaking of sorrows pass'd, of gloomy fears,
And things remember'd dim, through long and unknown years.
Slow from her mind the dreams of darkness fled;
And still those cold and deathly breathings fell,
That late had brooded o'er her midnight bed;
Speaking of sorrows pass'd, of gloomy fears,
And things remember'd dim, through long and unknown years.
“Oh! give me back my vernal hours again—
My hours of youth and peace,” the maiden cried;
“Give me the beechen grove, the woodland strain,
And violets blooming by the brooklet's side;
And that sweet bower of eglantine,—the shade
Where, through long summer-days, my careless childhood stray'd.
My hours of youth and peace,” the maiden cried;
“Give me the beechen grove, the woodland strain,
And violets blooming by the brooklet's side;
And that sweet bower of eglantine,—the shade
Where, through long summer-days, my careless childhood stray'd.
“'Twas there I watch'd the glittering insects play,
Circling, with sportive flight, yon sunny rill;
While the tall shadows of those turrets grey
Slept in the moated waters, calm and still,—
Nor ceas'd to linger there, while Evening pale
Drew o'er the shadowy scene her soft and dewy veil.
Circling, with sportive flight, yon sunny rill;
While the tall shadows of those turrets grey
Slept in the moated waters, calm and still,—
Nor ceas'd to linger there, while Evening pale
Drew o'er the shadowy scene her soft and dewy veil.
“Unclouded thus my days of gladness pass'd,
Sweet words and gentle greetings still were mine;
Pleasures to me from hands unseen were cast,
Bright as the azure heavens that o'er me shine;
So fairest thoughts from every heart I drew,
While peace and tenderest hope, like flowers, around me grew.
Sweet words and gentle greetings still were mine;
Pleasures to me from hands unseen were cast,
Bright as the azure heavens that o'er me shine;
So fairest thoughts from every heart I drew,
While peace and tenderest hope, like flowers, around me grew.
60
“Then take me to your shelt'ring arms again,
Ye lov'd companions of my earlier days,—
Green copse, and primrose-bank, and winding lane,
Rich with the golden treasure autumn lays;
And thou, forsaken Streamlet, let me be
Free as the summer winds, to wander still with thee.”
Ye lov'd companions of my earlier days,—
Green copse, and primrose-bank, and winding lane,
Rich with the golden treasure autumn lays;
And thou, forsaken Streamlet, let me be
Free as the summer winds, to wander still with thee.”
But see how slants the sun's departing ray,
Bright clouds are travelling o'er the western hills;
And hark! the hunter's horn and staghound's bay,
Peal after peal the echoing valley fills.
And now, through Hever's gates, in kingly pride,
Led by the monarch's self, the trampling horsemen ride.
Bright clouds are travelling o'er the western hills;
And hark! the hunter's horn and staghound's bay,
Peal after peal the echoing valley fills.
And now, through Hever's gates, in kingly pride,
Led by the monarch's self, the trampling horsemen ride.
And is this but a Poet's tale that's told?—
For see, the wild flower on the castle wall
Spreads its small banners through the ruins old;
Tall grass is waving in the roofless hall.
One lone and solitary tomb, 'tis said,
In silent guard preserves the secrets of the dead.
For see, the wild flower on the castle wall
Spreads its small banners through the ruins old;
Tall grass is waving in the roofless hall.
One lone and solitary tomb, 'tis said,
In silent guard preserves the secrets of the dead.
So musing in the churchway paths I stood,
That look upon those ancient turrets grey,
Wearing their verdant crown of hill and wood;
Then homeward bent my lone and pensive way.
And still I turn'd to gaze and linger there,
Mid those sweet woodland scenes, and shadowy landscapes fair.
That look upon those ancient turrets grey,
Wearing their verdant crown of hill and wood;
Then homeward bent my lone and pensive way.
And still I turn'd to gaze and linger there,
Mid those sweet woodland scenes, and shadowy landscapes fair.
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