 | Diana's Looking Glass and Other Poems by Charles D. Bell |  |
6
A LEGEND OF THE LAKES.
Fair was she as an opening day
Blushing with joy to find it May.
Blushing with joy to find it May.
Sweet was she as some red June rose,
Ere all its crimson buds unclose.
Ere all its crimson buds unclose.
Her hair was bright as ruddy morn,
In colour rich as the August corn.
In colour rich as the August corn.
Through a bosom fair as drifted snow,
All gracious thoughts did come and go.
All gracious thoughts did come and go.
Her heart looked out of clear frank eyes,
Filled with all happy memories.
Filled with all happy memories.
She was a noble Baron's child,
Who ruled o'er many a waste and wild,
Who ruled o'er many a waste and wild,
And o'er broad acres rich and fair,
To which fair Hilda was sole heir.
To which fair Hilda was sole heir.
The Baron's castle darkly stood
Close to the waters, near a wood,
Close to the waters, near a wood,
7
Through which there foamed with headlong course
The rapid stream of Ara Force,
The rapid stream of Ara Force,
That rushed by many a bush and brake,
Till rest it found within the lake.
Till rest it found within the lake.
Here Hilda up to woman grew;
Many her joys, her sorrows few.
Many her joys, her sorrows few.
She knew the great depths of the wood,
And where the ring-dove reared her brood;
And where the ring-dove reared her brood;
Where the first violet was found,
And rare long purples deck'd the ground;
And rare long purples deck'd the ground;
Where cuckoo-buds and harebells grew,
And purple fox-gloves held the dew.
And purple fox-gloves held the dew.
Full many a suitor sought her grace,
But in her heart none found a place:
But in her heart none found a place:
The same kind smile on all she bent,
Then on her way passed well content.
Then on her way passed well content.
As cold she seemed as Alpine snow
Without the Alpine rose's glow.
Without the Alpine rose's glow.
8
Sir Wilfrid woo'd her, loved her too,
As well as such a man could do;
As well as such a man could do;
Loved her, but scarce as much as self:
Loved her, but also loved her pelf.
Loved her, but also loved her pelf.
A man he was of craven soul,
Would win by means or fair or foul.
Would win by means or fair or foul.
He woo'd and woo'd, but him she loathed,
Would rather death were her betrothed.
Would rather death were her betrothed.
So she said “No,” and “No,” and “No,”
Yet paled before his look of woe.
Yet paled before his look of woe.
Right wroth was he, and nursed the ire
Which in his bosom burned like fire.
Which in his bosom burned like fire.
Came there at length a gallant knight,
Gentle in peace, and brave in fight,
Gentle in peace, and brave in fight,
With air like Michael's when he drew
His sword to smite the dragon through.
His sword to smite the dragon through.
Sir Lyulph saw the maiden sweet,
Adored the ground beneath her feet;
Adored the ground beneath her feet;
9
Lived in the light of her clear eyes—
Her presence was like Paradise.
Her presence was like Paradise.
And she? Ah, now love's morning broke
O'er Memnon, and the music woke,
O'er Memnon, and the music woke,
And thrilled and throbbed through every chord,
Till passion's deepest depths were stirred.
Till passion's deepest depths were stirred.
His absence was delicious pain;
His presence sunshine after rain.
His presence sunshine after rain.
And as he spake the tender word,
Which all her quivering pulses stirred,
Which all her quivering pulses stirred,
Low, earnest, truthful, as was meet,
Her trembling lips made answer sweet.
Her trembling lips made answer sweet.
'Twas spring-time now; voluptuous June
Would bring them near their marriage moon.
Would bring them near their marriage moon.
The days were numbered as they passed,
And each was brighter than the last.
And each was brighter than the last.
The spring died out, and summer came,
And all the gardens were aflame.
And all the gardens were aflame.
10
Hedge-rows grew sweet with flowers fair,
That flung warm scents upon the air.
That flung warm scents upon the air.
The weeks passed on; but now from far
Came summons to the holy war,
Came summons to the holy war,
Waged by a brave and faithful band
To wrench from Turkish power the land
To wrench from Turkish power the land
Where Christ the Saviour lived and died,
Was mocked, and scourged, and crucified.
Was mocked, and scourged, and crucified.
And Lyulph, knight of grace, must go
To battle with the Paynim foe.
To battle with the Paynim foe.
They parted, and fair Eden's gate
Seemed closed to leave them desolate.
Seemed closed to leave them desolate.
Sir Wilfrid with Sir Lyulph went;
Friends both in name, they shared one tent.
Friends both in name, they shared one tent.
But Lyulph recked not of the dole
That wrung to torture Wilfrid's soul,
That wrung to torture Wilfrid's soul,
Nor knew what evil things lurked there,
Beneath a face so bland and fair.
Beneath a face so bland and fair.
11
In many a bloody field they fought,
And many a deed of valour wrought;
And many a deed of valour wrought;
And side by side upon the plain
Left many a Paynim foeman slain.
Left many a Paynim foeman slain.
But once, when Lyulph, over-bold,
Attacked the infidel in his hold,
Attacked the infidel in his hold,
Sir Wilfrid followed not, but there
Left him the battle's brunt to bear,
Left him the battle's brunt to bear,
And hoped the avenging Turk might slay
Sir Lyulph in the bloody fray.
Sir Lyulph in the bloody fray.
Back Lyulph came not: none could tell
If prisoner made, or if he fell
If prisoner made, or if he fell
In combat slain—all knew him bold;
If dead, that dear his life he sold.
If dead, that dear his life he sold.
The weeks went on, till ten months lay
Between that venture and the day
Between that venture and the day
When Wilfrid, without page or state,
Came riding to the castle gate,
Came riding to the castle gate,
12
With troubled air, and all alone,
With sable plumes, on charger roan.
With sable plumes, on charger roan.
How could he his sad story tell
In Hilda's ears? It struck the knell
In Hilda's ears? It struck the knell
Of hope and love: of all, in sooth,
That lent a joy to her fair youth.
That lent a joy to her fair youth.
It smote her helpless to the ground,
And failed at once sense, sight, and sound.
And failed at once sense, sight, and sound.
They placed her pale upon the bed,
She lay for days and days as dead.
She lay for days and days as dead.
But in the struggle life o'ercame,
She rose at length, but not the same.
She rose at length, but not the same.
A stricken thing in piteous case,
With great sad eyes and white wan face,
With great sad eyes and white wan face,
And the light step, that erst did go
Swift as a fawn's, grew dull and slow.
Swift as a fawn's, grew dull and slow.
'Twas living death; all hope was slain,
Would never bud or bloom again.
Would never bud or bloom again.
13
It now became her only joy,
And one that never seemed to cloy,
And one that never seemed to cloy,
To sit and hear Sir Wilfrid's tale,
With weeping eyes and face all pale.
With weeping eyes and face all pale.
How Lyulph bore him in the fight,
His deeds of prowess and of might.
His deeds of prowess and of might.
How he was first to storm the breach,
And fired his men by deeds and speech.
And fired his men by deeds and speech.
She listened well,—the widowed bride;
And through her tears she flushed with pride
And through her tears she flushed with pride
To hear of him, the true and brave,
Who held her heart within his grave.
Who held her heart within his grave.
But most of all she loved to hear,
Often repeated in her ear,
Often repeated in her ear,
His messages of love to her—
Then would her bosom throb and stir.
Then would her bosom throb and stir.
So Wilfrid gained upon her grace,
As looking daily in her face,
As looking daily in her face,
14
He told the story of her lord,
And deeds wrought by his valiant sword,
And deeds wrought by his valiant sword,
And how he saw her Lyulph die—
Heard his last words—received his sigh;
Heard his last words—received his sigh;
And o'er his dying form bent low
To wipe the death-sweat from his brow.
To wipe the death-sweat from his brow.
And as she listened, listened still,
And knew her father's wish—his will,
And knew her father's wish—his will,
She quelled the bitter inward strife,
And gave her word to be his wife;
And gave her word to be his wife;
But yet she wept her woman's tears,
And trembled with her woman's fears.
And trembled with her woman's fears.
At length within the church they stood,
She in her young sweet womanhood;
She in her young sweet womanhood;
And oh, so fair—so wondrous fair,
In robe of silvery sheen—her hair,
In robe of silvery sheen—her hair,
With diamonds flashed, and pearls all white
Lay on her breast like softened light.
Lay on her breast like softened light.
15
Rich was his garb, as well became
A belted knight of warlike fame:
A belted knight of warlike fame:
And in good sooth he seemed to be
True knight in grace and courtesy.
True knight in grace and courtesy.
When the far-chiming bells had ceased
In Mary's Chapel stood the priest,
In Mary's Chapel stood the priest,
A holy man, and old and grey,
And 'gan the solemn words to say.
And 'gan the solemn words to say.
But ere the troth-ring he had given,
And they were one in sight of Heaven,
And they were one in sight of Heaven,
There came a sudden hurried tread,
So loud, it might have waked the dead
So loud, it might have waked the dead
Who slept, each in his shroud, alone,
Beneath the sacred chancel stone.
Beneath the sacred chancel stone.
A knight, all armed, strode up the aisle,
His helmet doff'd, and with a smile
His helmet doff'd, and with a smile
That burned defiant, like a flame,
As on with steady pace he came;
As on with steady pace he came;
16
And then a stern deep voice was heard,
That through each bosom thrilled and stirred;
That through each bosom thrilled and stirred;
“Hold, hold, Sir Priest, or by my faith,
Another word shall be thy death—
Another word shall be thy death—
“By promise, oath, and vow, and sign,
I claim this bride, for she is mine.
I claim this bride, for she is mine.
“This perjured, forsworn, craven knight,
Like some foul ulcer hurts the sight.
Like some foul ulcer hurts the sight.
“False in deed, and false in word,
With him I deign to cross no sword.
With him I deign to cross no sword.
“Let him pass out through yonder gate,
Object of loathing and of hate.”
Object of loathing and of hate.”
Sir Wilfrid like an aspen shook,
With awe-struck eyes and ashen look,
With awe-struck eyes and ashen look,
Half drew his sword from out its sheath,
Then paused with quick and labouring breath.
Then paused with quick and labouring breath.
But Hilda, pale as some wan moon
That seems within night's arms to swoon,
That seems within night's arms to swoon,
17
Would down have fall'n upon the ground,
Had not her maidens gathered round,
Had not her maidens gathered round,
And held her up a little space,
Clasped in their warm and fast embrace.
Clasped in their warm and fast embrace.
Out spoke the priest, and trembling said,
“Art living man, or from the dead?
“Art living man, or from the dead?
“Who art thou? Who? On battle plain
Sir Lyulph lies amongst the slain.
Sir Lyulph lies amongst the slain.
“This gallant knight did see him die,
And closed his eyes”—“Sir Priest, that lie
And closed his eyes”—“Sir Priest, that lie
“I thrust back in his throat,—his heart,
Ah! craven soul! thou well mayst start;
Ah! craven soul! thou well mayst start;
“A scorn and proverb be thy name,
Hence in thy self-contempt and shame!”
Hence in thy self-contempt and shame!”
He then with arms all opened wide,
Turned to the place where stood the bride,
Turned to the place where stood the bride,
And spoke: “Hilda, my love, my life,
I claim thee here my bride, my wife.
I claim thee here my bride, my wife.
18
“Say, am I not thine own,—thine own?
Art thou not mine alone,—alone?
Art thou not mine alone,—alone?
“Lo, in this holy place I stand,
Art thou not mine both heart and hand?
Art thou not mine both heart and hand?
“If thou art true, and lov'st me still,
Art here 'gainst heart, if not 'gainst will,
Art here 'gainst heart, if not 'gainst will,
“Come to this true and loving breast,
Here lay thy head down, love, and rest.”
Here lay thy head down, love, and rest.”
A cry through choir and chancel rang—
Into his folding arms she sprang,
Into his folding arms she sprang,
And with a sense of joy and pain,
Felt her heart beat 'gainst his again.
Felt her heart beat 'gainst his again.
All heaven seemed opened to them there,
Within that house of holy prayer.
Within that house of holy prayer.
Sir Wilfrid meantime shrunk away,
To hate and jealousy a prey;
To hate and jealousy a prey;
A perjured, coward, selfish soul:
What was for him save bitter dole?
What was for him save bitter dole?
19
All good men's loathing, true men's scorn,
He passed forth friendless and forlorn.
He passed forth friendless and forlorn.
Then Lyulph took the craven's place,
With Hilda in her pure, sweet grace,
With Hilda in her pure, sweet grace,
And ere they left God's House of prayer,
The priest had bless'd them kneeling there;
The priest had bless'd them kneeling there;
The words were said, the token given,
And they were one in sight of heaven.
And they were one in sight of heaven.
| Diana's Looking Glass and Other Poems by Charles D. Bell | |