Lays of the Highlands and Islands By John Stuart Blackie |
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 | Lays of the Highlands and Islands |  |
68
MAESHOW.
Thou fair green mound on the wide brown heath
Where the strong-winged breezes blow,
I wonder who the wight might be
That slept thy cone below.
Where the strong-winged breezes blow,
I wonder who the wight might be
That slept thy cone below.
Some haughty Jarl, some Norway King,
A stormy loon, whose life
Was still to risk the chanceful death,
And whet the deathful strife.
A stormy loon, whose life
Was still to risk the chanceful death,
And whet the deathful strife.
A Jarl who swept the seas with war,
And ruled with brawny might,
And where his forceful arm prevailed,
Pronounced his lordship right.
And ruled with brawny might,
And where his forceful arm prevailed,
Pronounced his lordship right.
Or was it a Celt, the primal drift
From the men-dispersing East,
When cravens crouched to Nimrod's name,
And despot power increased,—
From the men-dispersing East,
When cravens crouched to Nimrod's name,
And despot power increased,—
69
The Celt who reared the huge grey stones
That stand and scorn the gale,
Erect in pride of hoary strength,
While creeds and kingdoms fail?
That stand and scorn the gale,
Erect in pride of hoary strength,
While creeds and kingdoms fail?
Or was it a dame, a sorceress,
With charm and ban compelling,
Who framed this grassy mound to roof
Her dark and chambered dwelling,
With charm and ban compelling,
Who framed this grassy mound to roof
Her dark and chambered dwelling,
That she with Hela might converse,
And with the Nornies three,
And to her will bend fearful men
With baneful glamourie?
And with the Nornies three,
And to her will bend fearful men
With baneful glamourie?
Or was it a lady fair and fine,
Of queenly worth, to whom
Her lord, with proud regardful grief,
Upreared this stately tomb?
Of queenly worth, to whom
Her lord, with proud regardful grief,
Upreared this stately tomb?
I know not: but, while thus I mused,
A tall, strong-featured man
Came up to me with torch and key,
And thus to speak began:
A tall, strong-featured man
Came up to me with torch and key,
And thus to speak began:
70
“Good sir, if you this mound admire
Without so grassy green,
Within 'twill prick your wonder more,
And tax your wit, I ween.”
Without so grassy green,
Within 'twill prick your wonder more,
And tax your wit, I ween.”
He spoke, and oped the massy door,
And led the way to me,
Thorough a passage long and low,
With mighty masonrie
And led the way to me,
Thorough a passage long and low,
With mighty masonrie
Right bravely fenced; and soon beneath
A chambered vault we stood
Of shapely stones with chilly glance
Of earthy drip bedewed.
A chambered vault we stood
Of shapely stones with chilly glance
Of earthy drip bedewed.
And where the glimmering torch was held—
The tale I tell is true—
A dragon shape upon the wall
Uncouthly came to view.
The tale I tell is true—
A dragon shape upon the wall
Uncouthly came to view.
A dragon of the scaly brood,
Like dire Chimera old,
Transfixed upon the bristling back
By lance of hero bold.
Like dire Chimera old,
Transfixed upon the bristling back
By lance of hero bold.
71
A dragon dire, and eke a snake;
A snake, whose glittering twine
Embraced a rod, like Hermes' wand,
I saw with wondering eyne.
A snake, whose glittering twine
Embraced a rod, like Hermes' wand,
I saw with wondering eyne.
And right and left the cold dank wall
Was lettered strangely round
With scripture rude, to tell the tale
Of him who built the mound.
Was lettered strangely round
With scripture rude, to tell the tale
Of him who built the mound.
But what it told of Saga old
And stout sea-roving loons
I might not know: much wiser men
May spell the mystic Runes.
And stout sea-roving loons
I might not know: much wiser men
May spell the mystic Runes.
This only lore my beggar wit
Could eathly understand,
That mighty men had lived of yore,
And died in Orkney land.
Could eathly understand,
That mighty men had lived of yore,
And died in Orkney land.
I left the chilly chamber then,
And through the passage low
I crept, and walked into the light
Where healthful breezes blow;
And through the passage low
I crept, and walked into the light
Where healthful breezes blow;
72
And in the bright blue sky rejoiced,
And in the grassy sod,
And far and free o'er Harra Moor
With lightsome foot I trod.
And in the grassy sod,
And far and free o'er Harra Moor
With lightsome foot I trod.
| Lays of the Highlands and Islands | |