I.
Part I.
I.
‘Stay, gallant youth, thy courser stay,
In Langdale Halls content to dwell;
And take thy harp, and sing the lay,
That won thee thy sweet Christabel.’
II.
—‘What for should I my courser stay;
What for should I in Langdale dwell;
And take the harp, and sing the lay,
That speaks of vanish'd Christabel?’
III.
‘O there is truth on nurse's lips,
And foresight in the breast of age:
The lips her lips have touch'd so oft;
The breast her baby cradle soft,
And slumber's anchorage.
IV.
‘For she no more thy scarf shall bind,
To deck thee for the wars with weeping;
No more her bower with roses wind,
And greet thee with a rosy greeting.
V.
‘Then stay, fair youth, thy courser stay,
In Langdale Halls content to dwell.
Youth comforts Age: sole comfort left
To father of his child bereft,
The father of thy Christabel.’
VI.
—‘None dearer hold her Sire than I;
Yet past Sir Leoline I prize her:
The words of Age are Wisdom's words,
And yet the lips of Love are wiser.
VII.
‘Last night beyond the gate I stray'd;
I stood beneath the old oak tree:
I look'd in silence on the stars,
And the silent stars look'd down on me.
VIII.
‘I thought of vanish'd Christabel,
And pray'd sweet Mary grant a sign:—
—Two eyes slid downward from the stars;
The eyes of Lady Geraldine.
IX.
‘The keen eyes rested in the tree;
A voice came forth from blank below:
“Would'st see thy vanish'd love again,
—Seek her in Breton Charliot.
X.
“The many chamber'd castle-walls
For bashful maid are fitting coverts;
Seek out the room where last she slept,
And love shall sleep the sleep of lovers.”
XI.
‘Now forth to castled Charliot!’
—The good gray steed neigh'd proud and high;
The bugle blew, the flint sparks flew;
God speed the gallant and the true
To triumph or to die!
