 | The Battle-Day and Other Poems |  |
I.
Lindsay castle's jutted forth
On the wild, old sounding sea,
And a gallant race of the hardy North,
As their mountains strong—as the billows free,
That monument of ancient worth
Through long, long centuries have held,
Bequeathed unto the modern earth
By the great dim hands of Eld.
On the wild, old sounding sea,
And a gallant race of the hardy North,
As their mountains strong—as the billows free,
That monument of ancient worth
Through long, long centuries have held,
Bequeathed unto the modern earth
By the great dim hands of Eld.
It is a mighty trust to bear
The memory of those that were;
To have a name of time to save,
And be worthy to sleep in a father's grave;
To dwell in halls of mouldering stone,
Though desert all, yet not alone!
With listeners to every word—
Each motion seen, each accent heard!
The long dim statues down the hall
And dark old arms on the oaken wall
Scanning everything you do
The while you pace your chambers through,
Where, still their jealous vigil keeping,
The dead, in niche and vault unsleeping,
Forth looming from the depth of time,
Startle their children back from crime!
The memory of those that were;
42
And be worthy to sleep in a father's grave;
To dwell in halls of mouldering stone,
Though desert all, yet not alone!
With listeners to every word—
Each motion seen, each accent heard!
The long dim statues down the hall
And dark old arms on the oaken wall
Scanning everything you do
The while you pace your chambers through,
Where, still their jealous vigil keeping,
The dead, in niche and vault unsleeping,
Forth looming from the depth of time,
Startle their children back from crime!
Thro' many a change that race had passed;
Both sin's and honour's pathways trod;
For wealth may like an heirloom last,
But virtue is the gift of God.
Both sin's and honour's pathways trod;
For wealth may like an heirloom last,
But virtue is the gift of God.
43
And years and wars, and storm and crime
Had worn that house of ancient time:
Its greatness waned,
As discord drained
The life-blood of its early prime:
Pageant in tournay—assault on the wall,
Valour in battle and slander in hall,
Treason at midnight and riot at noon,
Soon end an old house,—'tis forgotten as soon.
A breath blows the glories of ages away—
And now the last heir unto Lindsay's decay,
With the proud blood of heroes ennobling his will,
Mistrusted a world that had used him so ill.
Had worn that house of ancient time:
Its greatness waned,
As discord drained
The life-blood of its early prime:
Pageant in tournay—assault on the wall,
Valour in battle and slander in hall,
Treason at midnight and riot at noon,
Soon end an old house,—'tis forgotten as soon.
A breath blows the glories of ages away—
And now the last heir unto Lindsay's decay,
With the proud blood of heroes ennobling his will,
Mistrusted a world that had used him so ill.
| The Battle-Day and Other Poems | |