 | The Battle-Day and Other Poems |  |
III.
Oh! there were sounds and sights of pride,
When Lindsay welcomed home his bride:
As though a charm were in the place,
Fresh fortunes flashed on Lindsay's race;
High harpers sung—and revel rung,
And laughter from hot hearts was flung,
Stirred by passion's fiery breath
Like light foam dashed from depths beneath.
But oh! that Lady was too fair
To walk the earth without a care:
While sin's old sway must still abide,
Man brooks no angels by his side.
Though once with him they walked the sod,
Did they raise man up unto God?
Or was't not he, whose fatal spell
Dragged down the angels unto hell?
When Lindsay welcomed home his bride:
As though a charm were in the place,
Fresh fortunes flashed on Lindsay's race;
High harpers sung—and revel rung,
And laughter from hot hearts was flung,
Stirred by passion's fiery breath
Like light foam dashed from depths beneath.
But oh! that Lady was too fair
To walk the earth without a care:
46
Man brooks no angels by his side.
Though once with him they walked the sod,
Did they raise man up unto God?
Or was't not he, whose fatal spell
Dragged down the angels unto hell?
Thus, when for mortal's sinful night
Too sun-like proved her beauty's light,
A whisperer came with tale half-told,
Glance once too warm, and now too cold,
And, envying love he could not win,
To Lindsay breathed the fabled sin:
And he, with quivering lip and pale,
Listened—ay! listened to the tale,
Who, had he proved his ancient worth,
Had hurled the slanderer to the earth,
And haled him to his gentle bride
To own his slanders one by one,
And, as he spurned the miscreant, cried—
“That he hath said—this I have done!”
Too sun-like proved her beauty's light,
A whisperer came with tale half-told,
Glance once too warm, and now too cold,
And, envying love he could not win,
To Lindsay breathed the fabled sin:
And he, with quivering lip and pale,
Listened—ay! listened to the tale,
Who, had he proved his ancient worth,
Had hurled the slanderer to the earth,
And haled him to his gentle bride
To own his slanders one by one,
And, as he spurned the miscreant, cried—
“That he hath said—this I have done!”
47
But Lindsay listened—then believed,
Nay! gave the poison he received—
And, proof and argument without,
Began the deadly spell—to doubt!
Nay! gave the poison he received—
And, proof and argument without,
Began the deadly spell—to doubt!
Oh! Wrath will droop with wearied wing,
And Hate will yield to tears:
But Doubt destroys the fairest thing,
Creates the spot it fears.
And Hate will yield to tears:
But Doubt destroys the fairest thing,
Creates the spot it fears.
| The Battle-Day and Other Poems | |