Golden Histories, etc :: :: University of Virginia Library

They say he is already in the forest of Arden and a many merry men with him; and there they live like the old Robin Hood of England; they say many young gentlemen flock to him every day and fleet the time carelessly as they did in the golden age.—As You Like It.

I

All night I swam in golden gloom,
Or hollow sealike murmurs heard,
And now a delicate perfume,
And now the carol of a bird
Pierc'd the thin sleep; or else my doom
Clashed like harsh bells in some vile word.
But dreams and fears with day-dawn fled,
And hope her colour'd bow flung glittering o'er my head.

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II

I breathed the violet breath of morn,
I murmured back all happy sounds,
I crushed thro' rustling ripening corn,
I raced across the willow-grounds,
And over hill and valley borne,
I crossed the blue horizon's bounds,
And as the castle-clock chimed eight,
I saw Maid Marian's smile, and paused by Locksley gate.

III

“Well met!” she cried, and gave her hand,
Half childlike, half with woman's mien.
“Welcome, Sir Hermit, to the land
“Of peacock-plume and Lincoln-green,
“A freeman now mid freemen stand,
“Or kneel but to thy forest queen.
“For lo! the secret sylvan Fates
“Have linked thee, Lord of Leigh, with our sweet Robin's mates.”

IV

She turned; I follow'd as in dream.
Down glimmering twilight paths she led,
Where whisper'd tree to warbling stream,
Where white rose woo'd the lordlier red,
Where emerald ray or amber gleam
Pierc'd the light net of leaves o'erhead,
And now by magic cave we stood,
Shrin'd in the twinkling light of that voluptuous wood.

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V

We entered, and, O wondrous sight!
Fair forest shapes to greet me rose,
Joy brimmed each eye with vernal light,
Strength lent each graceful limb repose;
Here books lay heaped; there, left and right,
Were quivers hung, here shafts and bows;
Here flowers were strewn, and on the floor,
Two large lithe greyhounds crouched, beside the figur'd door.

VI

By fairy power the cave seem'd wrought,
Four windows, nich'd on either side,
Bore blazon'd the pale Lords of Thought,
Or Kings of Action, eagle-eyed;
Each storied pane the sunlight caught,
The broken beams the pavement dyed,
And rainbow-colour'd shadows play'd,
Birdlike above a floor that pearly shells inlaid.

VII

“Up, dreamer, up!” with elf-like grace
The Child-Queen cried, “and follow me,
“For, see the Lord of Locksley Place,
“Our Robin, waits to welcome thee.”
A noble Form with noble face
Stood near me, such should princes be,
A silver arrow crossed his vest,
And roses in his cap half hid the peacock crest.

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VIII

“My Liege,” thus spake that mocking child,
“Must welcome to his sylvan reign,
“One whom wild impulse, vision wild,
“Hail courtier in Queen Fancy's train,
“A hermit he” (the maiden smil'd),
“Half sage, half saint” (she smil'd again),
“A minstrel too, and born to sing
“Honour to Robin Hood! Honour to Sherwood's king!”

IX

She curtsied low; he, laughing, said,
“Welcome, Sir Poet, to our band.
“Our woodland green about thee spread,
“And bear the badges of the land,
“The peacock feather for the head,
“The bow of yew for trusty hand,
“And range our realm from dawn till noon,
“From the first blush of day till rise of silver moon.

X

“But truce to talk. The morning tide
“Brings song and feast. Our forest fare
“Will ‘Hostess Merriment’ provide,
“Yon maiden with the auburn hair.”
I looked; with four sweet mates allied
There moved a fifth, whose presence there,
Like sunshine seem'd, and soon our board,
With daintier viands laugh'd, than fields or woods afford.

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XI

With milk-white bread and that clear gold
Which bees distil from bells of thyme,
With mellow strawberries, dewy-cold,
And mead that Odin's lips sublime
Had gladly quaffed at rite of old,
And curds that, but last curfew chime,
Were flowering in the yellow leas,
And cream more delicate than foam from fairy seas.

XII

Deft, sprite-like hands before me set
All fruits. belov'd of moon and sun,
That, blushing thro' the guardian net,
To lure young bills, had feasted none;
And there, where fern and fox-glove met,
As if for elfin triumph won,
A silver-misted rich perfume
From orient leaf and berry, floated down the room.

XIII

So went our revels: so we play'd
Our happy masque of memories old,
So frolicked in the sun and shade,
In youth's Saturnian age of gold.
So went our revels. Glen and glade
Re-echoed to the masquers bold,
And still we laughed, still sang unseen,
And when the green leaves danc'd, danc'd back in rival-green.

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XIV

O honour to those golden days!
O honour to those rainbow hours!
O honour to the simple lays
Of Childhood singing to the Flowers!
O honour to the heart that prays
In the dim Past's enchanted bowers!
Honour to forest glade and glen,
And the sweet sylvan life that ne'er shall come agen

XV

Such life was ours: from mere delight
In the green woods, it was agreed,
From morn's first blush to star-rise bright,
The merry outlaw's life to lead.
True Saxons we, that knew aright
The wearers of the Lincoln-weed,
The gentle heart and daring grace
That made them champion long an old oppressed race.

XVI

Then bow and bugle, song and tale,
Glad feast in bower, and dance on lea,
Made the shy spirit of Mirth prevail,
And strengthened and ennobled me.
Then life was like the summer gale
That blows across the summer sea;
Then like a king I looked around—
My palace roof the sky, and earth all fairy ground.

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XVII

Then all my days were like the May,
When May with earth's warm breath is mild,
Hope, soaring, sang her prophet lay,
And Fancy with wild dreams beguil'd,
Or Wisdom smiling, ran to play
With Love, the golden-wingèd Child,
—Love, that alone true life can give,
For love is life, and only when we love we live.

XVIII

A child like me no love could feel,
Yet what delicious tears I shed,
What glorious hopes did morn reveal,
What dainty dreams pale Twilight fed,
What bells from magic towers would peal,
Drowned in blue distance, when I led,
'Neath silver cloud or cloud of gold,
My beautiful Maid Marian over heath and wold.

XIX

A child like me could feel no love,
I only felt as poets feel,
When purple mornings break above
The golden world they half reveal,
And over mountain, lawn, and grove,
The tender lights of sunrise steal:
I only felt as saints that die
Dreaming of heaven, with angels smiling down the sky.

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XX

But this is over. Long, long years,
Long winters and long springs are flown,
And griefs as countless as my fears,
And some few joys the man has known.
Yet oft to Fancy reappears
That fair dead world, while, sad and lone,
Sweet memories haunt the twilight hours,
Like far-off meadowy gales round old deserted bowers.

XXI

We never bended bow again,
Nor filled with tuneful breath the horn,
But wanderers wild, o'er land and main,
Soon held the Child's Romance in scorn.
Yet dreams like ours are rarely vain,
The blossom drops, the fruit is born;
And thus, beneath our English skies,
In deeds of princely love our Locksley's visions rise.

XXII

Old times, old thoughts revive again,
Love lights the barren moor with flowers;
And still to grace the Saxon men
Return the antique Sylvan Powers,
Till every hill-crest, every glen
Laughs with white homes and rosy bowers.
And all that dwell in sun and shade
Our Robin bless, and bless our Marian gentle maid.

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XXIII

Nay, gentle wife! but maid no more,
For in the home where Robin dwells,
Our Marian heard the vows of yore,
Ring echoing back in happy bells,
And true to the old love he bore
My wildwood fay of thousand spells,
Above the gathering storms of life,
Herald of azure calm he throned that halcyon wife.

XXIV

O golden years advance, advance!
O years of regal work and thought!
O doubting hearts! the child's romance,
Shall into splendid fact be wrought;
By laughing years, in choral dance,
The world's great summer shall be brought,
And cradled hours shall wake and sing
An autumn rich in fruits, as once in buds the spring.

XXV

A fairer knighthood shall be ours,
Than ever Norman baron knew,
With sweeter women in our bowers,
For tenderer, nobler, men to woo,
Truth from a thousand starry towers
Her flaming torch shall lift anew,
And Art, that old diviner truth,
Shall bring again the age of man's resplendent youth.

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XXVI

Then Science, reconcil'd with Song,
Shall throb with life's melodious beat,
Then Song, thro' Science wise and strong,
Shall her impassion'd tale repeat,
Then Right shall reign, discrowning Wrong,
Then old Compliance shall be sweet,
Then star to kindred star shall call,
And soul to soul shall answer, “Love is Lord of all.”