 | Brother Fabian's Manuscript |  |
102
NICKAR THE SOULLESS.
Where by the marishes
Boometh the bittern,
Nickar the soulless One
Sits with his ghittern.
Sits inconsolable,
Friendless and foeless,
Wailing his destiny,
Nickar the soulless.
Boometh the bittern,
Nickar the soulless One
Sits with his ghittern.
Sits inconsolable,
Friendless and foeless,
Wailing his destiny,
Nickar the soulless.
Footing the treacherous
Marish untrodden,
Glides by a Wanderer
Hooded in hodden;
Grey is his gaberdine,
Grey are his hosen:
Track that he travels by
No man had chosen.
Marish untrodden,
Glides by a Wanderer
Hooded in hodden;
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Grey are his hosen:
Track that he travels by
No man had chosen.
“Wherefore thus sorrowful
“Sitt'st thou and sighest?
“Oft when it furthest seems,
“Succour is nighest.”
““Friend,” quoth the soulless One,
“Friend of the friendless,
“Vain are all comforters,
“Sorrow is endless!
“Sitt'st thou and sighest?
“Oft when it furthest seems,
“Succour is nighest.”
““Friend,” quoth the soulless One,
“Friend of the friendless,
“Vain are all comforters,
“Sorrow is endless!
“Mine, O to make her mine!
“Mine, and for ever!
“Why did I gaze on her?
“Mine she is never!
“Down by the river-aits
“Walked she at day-rise,
“Beautiful, bright as a
“Child of the Faeries;
“Mine, and for ever!
“Why did I gaze on her?
“Mine she is never!
“Down by the river-aits
“Walked she at day-rise,
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“Child of the Faeries;
“Kirtled right maidenly,
“Broidered her bodice,
“Belted with emeralds
“Fit for a Goddess,
“Came where the whispering
“Aspen leaves quiver,
“Just where the silver mere
“Spreads from the river,
“Broidered her bodice,
“Belted with emeralds
“Fit for a Goddess,
“Came where the whispering
“Aspen leaves quiver,
“Just where the silver mere
“Spreads from the river,
“Came for a morning bath,
“Lovely and lonely,
“Ornan the swan-breasted,
“Ornan the only!
“Came, and the silken fret
“Deftly untwining,
“Let fall the golden locks,
“Ripple-like shining.
“Lovely and lonely,
“Ornan the swan-breasted,
“Ornan the only!
“Came, and the silken fret
“Deftly untwining,
“Let fall the golden locks,
“Ripple-like shining.
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“Laid by her aumoner,
“Unclasped her brooches,
“Loosened her carcanet,
“Starry with ouches,
“Doffed the rich baudekin
“Broidered with myrtle,
“Unlooped the ruby knops
“Loosing her kirtle—
“Unclasped her brooches,
“Loosened her carcanet,
“Starry with ouches,
“Doffed the rich baudekin
“Broidered with myrtle,
“Unlooped the ruby knops
“Loosing her kirtle—
“Kirtle of cramoisie,
“Glist'ning with bezants,
“Samite the purfled sleeve,
“Slashed into crescents.
“Down from her girdlestead,
“Rustling and gleaming,
“Fall the rich webs and gold,
“Fountain-like streaming;
“Glist'ning with bezants,
“Samite the purfled sleeve,
“Slashed into crescents.
“Down from her girdlestead,
“Rustling and gleaming,
“Fall the rich webs and gold,
“Fountain-like streaming;
“Snow-white the corset is,
“Snow-white the camise;
“Snow-white herself as the
“Swans of the Thamise.
“Beautiful, fair as the
“Swan when she stretches
“Wings and neck over her
“Nest in the sedges,
“Snow-white the camise;
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“Swans of the Thamise.
“Beautiful, fair as the
“Swan when she stretches
“Wings and neck over her
“Nest in the sedges,
“Stands she in midst of her
“Jewels and vesture;
“O for the pride in her
“Maidenly gesture!
“O those blue eyne of hers,
“Glancing so keenly!
“O those fair limbs of hers,
“Fashioned so queenly!
“Jewels and vesture;
“O for the pride in her
“Maidenly gesture!
“O those blue eyne of hers,
“Glancing so keenly!
“O those fair limbs of hers,
“Fashioned so queenly!
“Down to the mere she steps,
“Where by the margent
“Brightly the morning-red
“Glints on the argent;
“Stands there a moment in
“Womanhood peerless,
“Then like a Mermaiden
“Plunges in fearless!
“Where by the margent
“Brightly the morning-red
“Glints on the argent;
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“Womanhood peerless,
“Then like a Mermaiden
“Plunges in fearless!
“Bright the hair follows her
“Swimming and plashing,
“Bright as the walk of light
“Sunsetward flashing;
“Ah, what a lunacy
“Thus to behold her,
“Watching the ripples kiss
“Softly her shoulder!
“Swimming and plashing,
“Bright as the walk of light
“Sunsetward flashing;
“Ah, what a lunacy
“Thus to behold her,
“Watching the ripples kiss
“Softly her shoulder!
“Watching the snowy limbs
“Cleaving the waters,
““Is she indeed,” methought,
““One of earth's daughters?”
“Mine, O to make her mine,
“Mine and for ever!
“Why did I gaze on her?
“Mine she is never!”
“Cleaving the waters,
““Is she indeed,” methought,
““One of earth's daughters?”
“Mine, O to make her mine,
“Mine and for ever!
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“Mine she is never!”
““Tush!” quoth the Wanderer,
““Fondly thou sighest!
“Oft when it furthest seems,
“Succour is nighest!
“Had but the maiden thus
“Pledged me her clothing,
“She had not won them back
“Certes, for nothing!
““Fondly thou sighest!
“Oft when it furthest seems,
“Succour is nighest!
“Had but the maiden thus
“Pledged me her clothing,
“She had not won them back
“Certes, for nothing!
“Would she have drowned herself,
“Think you, to spy you!
“Would her white arms have donned
“Swan-wings to fly you?
“Come, for a bargain, now,
“Such as I trade in!
“What wilt thou give an' I
“Grant thee the maiden?”
“Think you, to spy you!
“Would her white arms have donned
“Swan-wings to fly you?
“Come, for a bargain, now,
“Such as I trade in!
“What wilt thou give an' I
“Grant thee the maiden?”
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““Give?” quoth the soulless One,
““What should I give thee?
“Gift have I none, even
“Could I believe thee!
“None, save the ghittern here,
“Friend of my weeping,
“This, which the Mermaidens
“Gave me in keeping.
““What should I give thee?
“Gift have I none, even
“Could I believe thee!
“None, save the ghittern here,
“Friend of my weeping,
“This, which the Mermaidens
“Gave me in keeping.
“Often men heark to its
“Harping impassioned,
“Little they reck the while
“Whence it was fashioned!
“Look you, how white it is,
“Polished and slender;
“Once a heart beat in it,
“Royally tender!
“Harping impassioned,
“Little they reck the while
“Whence it was fashioned!
“Look you, how white it is,
“Polished and slender;
“Once a heart beat in it,
“Royally tender!
“'Tis the breast-bone of an
“Emperor's daughter,
“One whom a sister's hand
“Slew under water!
“Famous the history,
“Molten in metre,
“Long ere the Aser gods
“Fled before Peter.
“Emperor's daughter,
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“Slew under water!
“Famous the history,
“Molten in metre,
“Long ere the Aser gods
“Fled before Peter.
“Look at the runes on it,
“Finger the strings, too!
“Sweeter its tone than aught
“Minstrel e'er sings to!”
““Pardon,” quoth Evil-eye,
““Truly, no bungler
“Fashioned your ghittern, but
“I am no jongleur!
“Finger the strings, too!
“Sweeter its tone than aught
“Minstrel e'er sings to!”
““Pardon,” quoth Evil-eye,
““Truly, no bungler
“Fashioned your ghittern, but
“I am no jongleur!
“Gift so imperial
“Seems me moreover,
“Guerdon too costly for
“Blessing a lover!
“Thee of thine only wealth
“Shame 'twere to rifle,
“All that I ask for is
“Just a mere trifle!
“Seems me moreover,
“Guerdon too costly for
“Blessing a lover!
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“Shame 'twere to rifle,
“All that I ask for is
“Just a mere trifle!
“Death shoots at human kind,
“Hits me or hits thee,
“Only just give me thy
“Soul when it quits thee!
“Tush! A man's soul, my friend,
“Trust me, in fact is
“Great but in theory,
“Nothing in practice!
“Hits me or hits thee,
“Only just give me thy
“Soul when it quits thee!
“Tush! A man's soul, my friend,
“Trust me, in fact is
“Great but in theory,
“Nothing in practice!
“Only souls hap to be
“That which I trade in;
“Come, give me thine, my friend!
“Thine is the maiden!”
Nickar the soulless One,
Nickar the crafty,
Thrummed on his ghittern-strings,
Inwardly laughed he!
“That which I trade in;
“Come, give me thine, my friend!
“Thine is the maiden!”
Nickar the soulless One,
Nickar the crafty,
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Inwardly laughed he!
“Say, if I barter it,
“Thou, canst thou take it?
“Ill were a covenant
“Made but to break it.
“Look you, this soul of mine
“Clings so about me,
“He is not born that can
“Drag it without me!
“Thou, canst thou take it?
“Ill were a covenant
“Made but to break it.
“Look you, this soul of mine
“Clings so about me,
“He is not born that can
“Drag it without me!
“Trust me, so straitly the
“Life-blood hath tied us,
“Death the Divider's self
“Cannot divide us!”
““Aye?” quoth the Wanderer,
“Is it so fast in?
“Haply 'twill loose in the
“Grave thou art cast in.
“Life-blood hath tied us,
“Death the Divider's self
“Cannot divide us!”
““Aye?” quoth the Wanderer,
“Is it so fast in?
“Haply 'twill loose in the
“Grave thou art cast in.
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“I, I can sever it
“Ev'n were it faster;
“In my own handicraft,
“Trust me, I'm master.
“Come, now, to please thee, I'll
“Bargain, my brother,
“If I don't take it, to
“Find thee another.
“Ev'n were it faster;
“In my own handicraft,
“Trust me, I'm master.
“Come, now, to please thee, I'll
“Bargain, my brother,
“If I don't take it, to
“Find thee another.
“If I should fail in it,
“Will I, or nill I,
“Yours is another soul
“Clean as a lily!”
Nickar the soulless One,
Nickar the crafty,
Thrummed on his ghittern-strings,
Inwardly laughed he!
“Will I, or nill I,
“Yours is another soul
“Clean as a lily!”
Nickar the soulless One,
Nickar the crafty,
Thrummed on his ghittern-strings,
Inwardly laughed he!
“If to a covenant,”
Then quoth the Dark One,
“Name you've not learnt to sign,
“Still you can mark one.
“Pardon!” He lifted the
Hand of the singer,
Swift with a needle-point
Pricked he his finger!
Then quoth the Dark One,
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“Still you can mark one.
“Pardon!” He lifted the
Hand of the singer,
Swift with a needle-point
Pricked he his finger!
Nickar the parchment-scroll
Lifted unshudd'ring;—
Handed it back to him
Marked with a blood-ring.
Peal the bells merrily,
Ringers of Thrifholm!
Nickar the soulless One
Bringeth a wife home!
Lifted unshudd'ring;—
Handed it back to him
Marked with a blood-ring.
Peal the bells merrily,
Ringers of Thrifholm!
Nickar the soulless One
Bringeth a wife home!
Ornan the swan-breasted,
Ornan the wader,—
Bring forth the bridal-dress,
Girls, that ye made her!
Anlaf the Bishop his
Blessing delivers,
Nickar the soulless One
Blanches and shivers!
Ornan the wader,—
Bring forth the bridal-dress,
Girls, that ye made her!
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Blessing delivers,
Nickar the soulless One
Blanches and shivers!
Swiftly the winter flies,
Springtide and summer,
White are the cradle-swathes
For the new comer!
Toll the bell solemnly,
Ringers of Thrifholm!
Nickar the soulless One
Beareth his wife home!
Springtide and summer,
White are the cradle-swathes
For the new comer!
Toll the bell solemnly,
Ringers of Thrifholm!
Nickar the soulless One
Beareth his wife home!
Cold in the God's-acre
Sadly he lays his
Bride and her little one
Under the daisies!
Where by the marishes
Boometh the bittern,
Nickar the soulless One
Sits with his ghittern:—
Sadly he lays his
Bride and her little one
Under the daisies!
Where by the marishes
Boometh the bittern,
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Sits with his ghittern:—
Sits inconsolable,
Friendless and foeless,
Wailing his destiny,
Nickar the soulless.
Footing the treacherous
Marish untrodden,
Glides by a Wanderer
Hooded in hodden.
Friendless and foeless,
Wailing his destiny,
Nickar the soulless.
Footing the treacherous
Marish untrodden,
Glides by a Wanderer
Hooded in hodden.
Grey is his gaberdine,
Grey are his hosen,
Track that he travels by
No man had chosen.
“Wherefore thus sorrowful
“Sitt'st thou, forlorn One?
“Did not I win for thee
“Swan-breasted Ornan?”
Grey are his hosen,
Track that he travels by
No man had chosen.
“Wherefore thus sorrowful
“Sitt'st thou, forlorn One?
“Did not I win for thee
“Swan-breasted Ornan?”
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Nickar the soulless One
Speaks without turning:—
“Wherefore? Thou knowest well
“Whom I am mourning!
“Yet what myself am, thou
“Seemest to know less:—
“Look on me! Recognize
“Nickar the soulless!”
Speaks without turning:—
“Wherefore? Thou knowest well
“Whom I am mourning!
“Yet what myself am, thou
“Seemest to know less:—
“Look on me! Recognize
“Nickar the soulless!”
Fiercely the Wanderer
Glares on the speaker:—
“Fool that I was, to be
“Fooled by a Nicker!”
Where by the marishes
Boometh the bittern,
Nickar the soulless One
Sinks with his ghittern!
Glares on the speaker:—
“Fool that I was, to be
“Fooled by a Nicker!”
Where by the marishes
Boometh the bittern,
Nickar the soulless One
Sinks with his ghittern!
Drowned in the marishes,
Grey-Hood beside him;
Where is the soul that he
Vowed to provide him?
Forth to the green-sodded
Wilds of Ierne,
Shiplessly, steedlessly
Takes he his journey.
Grey-Hood beside him;
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Vowed to provide him?
Forth to the green-sodded
Wilds of Ierne,
Shiplessly, steedlessly
Takes he his journey.
Straight to the Holy Lough
Derg, where the hoary
Patric the bishop still
Dwells in his glory;
Dwells in the cavernous
Islet, to mortals
Where the dread Spirit-world
Opens his portals.
Derg, where the hoary
Patric the bishop still
Dwells in his glory;
Dwells in the cavernous
Islet, to mortals
Where the dread Spirit-world
Opens his portals.
There the red Hell-river
Bellows and hisses,
Plunging in flame to the
Shrieking abysses.
There on the brink of the
Dolorous river,
Smoke Purgatorial
Rises for ever:—
Bellows and hisses,
Plunging in flame to the
Shrieking abysses.
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Dolorous river,
Smoke Purgatorial
Rises for ever:—
There with a glow, as of
Gold in the coppel,
Glimmers Earth-paradise
Girdled with opal.
There at the gates of the
Weird spirit-haven,
Crosiered St. Patric stands,
Old as a raven.
Gold in the coppel,
Glimmers Earth-paradise
Girdled with opal.
There at the gates of the
Weird spirit-haven,
Crosiered St. Patric stands,
Old as a raven.
Speaks the grey Wanderer,
“Tell me, O Warden,
“What shall I give for a
“Soul from thy garden?”
Keenly the hoary Saint
Eyes the grey pedlar:
“Fiend, thou wast ever an
“Impudent meddler!
“Tell me, O Warden,
“What shall I give for a
“Soul from thy garden?”
Keenly the hoary Saint
Eyes the grey pedlar:
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“Impudent meddler!
“Off! ere I ban thee with
“Bell, book, and candle,
“Home for thy taskmaster
“Moloch to handle!”
Quaking, the Wanderer
Kneels interceding:
“Mercy, O mighty One,
“Hark to my pleading!
“Bell, book, and candle,
“Home for thy taskmaster
“Moloch to handle!”
Quaking, the Wanderer
Kneels interceding:
“Mercy, O mighty One,
“Hark to my pleading!
“Not for myself, O saint,
“Ask I the favour,
“Once in my life I'm not
“Slayer, but saver!
“Nickar, the soulless One,
“Pitiful Pixie,
“Foully hath won of me
“Wager too tricksy!
“Ask I the favour,
“Once in my life I'm not
“Slayer, but saver!
“Nickar, the soulless One,
“Pitiful Pixie,
“Foully hath won of me
“Wager too tricksy!
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“I, who but struck it to
“Humour his follies,
“Wagered no less than a
“Soul to the soulless!
“Wagered and lost it!—Ah,
“Saint, if thou aid not,
“Think of my doom for the
“Wager that's paid not!
“Humour his follies,
“Wagered no less than a
“Soul to the soulless!
“Wagered and lost it!—Ah,
“Saint, if thou aid not,
“Think of my doom for the
“Wager that's paid not!
“Sure thou canst find him a
“Soul to inherit?
“Any will do for him,
“So 'tis a spirit!
“Just a mere idiot's,
“Say, or a baby's?
“Either would suit for him,
“Grossest of gabies!
“Soul to inherit?
“Any will do for him,
“So 'tis a spirit!
“Just a mere idiot's,
“Say, or a baby's?
“Either would suit for him,
“Grossest of gabies!
“What? In the Limbo, there,
“Out of the many
“Unbaptized little ones,
“Hast thou not any?
“Pity that all of them
“Thus should be wasted!
“Surely at least by one
“Bliss may be tasted?
“Out of the many
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“Hast thou not any?
“Pity that all of them
“Thus should be wasted!
“Surely at least by one
“Bliss may be tasted?
“See! Here's a Prodigal's
“Spirit I'll cede thee;
“Damned is it evermore,
“Elsewise, I rede thee!
“Look you!” He draws forth the
Soul from his pocket,
Flimsily tied, with its
Date on a docket;
“Spirit I'll cede thee;
“Damned is it evermore,
“Elsewise, I rede thee!
“Look you!” He draws forth the
Soul from his pocket,
Flimsily tied, with its
Date on a docket;
Smooths out its gossamer
Inwardly muttering;
Holds it up chapmanlike,
Temptingly fluttering,
“Fiend!” quoth the Saint, “not oft
“Art thou caught sleeping!
“Give me thy Prodigal's
“Soul to my keeping,
Inwardly muttering;
Holds it up chapmanlike,
Temptingly fluttering,
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“Art thou caught sleeping!
“Give me thy Prodigal's
“Soul to my keeping,
“Since for him, dreeing the
“Dole of Purgation,
“Prayer may avail even
“Yet to salvation.
“Spirit for Spirit's not
“Mine to return thee;
“Nathless one favour thy
“Pleading shall earn thee!
“Dole of Purgation,
“Prayer may avail even
“Yet to salvation.
“Spirit for Spirit's not
“Mine to return thee;
“Nathless one favour thy
“Pleading shall earn thee!
“Ornan the Beautiful
“Here still abideth,
“Till the dread Hand her soul
“Heavenward guideth;
“Here, too, her little one
“Wanders for ever,
“Like as his father wont,
“Down by the river.
“Here still abideth,
“Till the dread Hand her soul
“Heavenward guideth;
“Here, too, her little one
“Wanders for ever,
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“Down by the river.
“Fiend, when the Beautiful
“Winneth to glory,
“With her the child shall go
“Bearing thy story;
“He, who fain heavenward
“All men would gather,
“Haply shall take the Child
“In for the Father!”
Ex nihilo nil fit: Sathanas ut perderet, emit;
“Winneth to glory,
“With her the child shall go
“Bearing thy story;
“He, who fain heavenward
“All men would gather,
“Haply shall take the Child
“In for the Father!”
Perdere cùm voluit, perdidit at noluit.
quoth Fabian.
| Brother Fabian's Manuscript | |