« VorigeDoorgaan »
10. For o'er his soul, like an April gust, To have told her of his wedded state,
Toawaken the young flowers driven, When her heart and hopes were Came the thoughts of Elizabeth, sad high; and pale,
To have told her of his Bretagne mate Like a seraph that pined for heaven. Were to have bidden her die. He knew her lovely as May morning, He mused on her matchless loveliness,
Pure, chaste, as the new-fallen snow: On her bright, bold, artless mind; And could he leave uncheer'd to break, But alas ! his heart, like Noah's dove, A heart that loved him so ?
No haven of rest could find !
[dight, The barque is launch’d-before the With harness bright for the path beprow
The ready palfrey stood; [rein, The hissing billows of foam divide ; The page seized hold of the silken And Sir Eliduc sails for Elizabeth, And away they hied through the Whatever fate betide.
wood. Fresh blew the breeze--soon the waste 'Neath the linden tree watch'd Eliduo, wide seas
[cross'd, Behind was moor'd bis barque; By that bounding barque were But he leapt to his feet when ElizaAnd at Totness, with the purple dawn, beth He lay beside the coast.
Came riding up through the dark !
2. Beneath the sheltering rocks they
moor’d, In a wild lone woodland coveNow haste thy message, page," he
cried, • To the ladye of my love. And tell her that for her we wait,
'Mid this forest by the sea; Linger till eve by the palace gate,
And hurry her thence with thee.”
6. 66 Welcome, welcome, my love, my
life!"In a moment, within his arms Lay the heaving breast of the young
princess, In the bloom of her virgin charms. “ To sea, to sea, my mariners !"
The white sails are unfurld; Behind the barque the land withdrew;
Before the white waves curl'd.
[away Without stop or stay, the fleet page
O'er moor and o'er meadow ran, Till he saw young Elizabeth, ʼmid the
And she hath heard and sigh’d,
7. Oh bliss of bliss- -a lovely night!
The winds breathed gently free,
Shower'd fire upon the sea ;
8. When but one star shone like a torch Sudden changed the sky—a tempest On departing daylight's tomb,
fierce To the wistful page she comes--she Fell brooding ; and lo! the gale,
Like an evil spirit from hell let loose, Like an angel through the gloom. Split the mast and rent the sail ! With light quick step like a startled And the mountain waves rear'd their fawn,
crested heads, She hasten'd her through the grove, And the lightnings scorch'd the sky, A short, warm mantle, with ermined And the mariners on their patron fringe,
saints Thrown her splendid dress above. In supplication cry.
11. But from the helm, with upraised 'Twas silence all ;--the wild winds fell,
And the clouds dispersed away: An old man leapt, and said
All the stars grew pale, save the morn« On St Clement and St Nicolas, ing star sirs,
That heralded the day :In vain ye call for aid,
With a bubbling groan the old man On Mary Mother in vain ye call
sank; All, Sir Eliduc, for thee
The mariners sat with in-drawn Hath the wrath of Heaven o'ertaken breath; us ;
To Bretagne's shore the vessel bore Throw thy paramour in the sea, 'Twas like a ship of death.
12. “ And return, return to thy wedded 'Twas silence all: the brightening wife!"
With many a shriek, from crag and
The seamews skimm’d the bay, He held her wrist—her lips he kiss'd While sad and silent they glide along No word his fate deplored ;
Till the beetling shore they reach, But Sir Eliduc seized the old man's Then, with dead Elizabeth in his waist
arms, And toss'd him overboard.
Strode Eliduc from the beach.
FITTE FOURTH. 1.
4. Why mournest thou thus, Sir Eli- 66 Betide me weal, betide me woe,” duc ?
To her page the ladye said, What is thy cause of woe ?
“ Thou must after thy sorrowing masWhy these stifled sighs and heavy eyes ?
And track him through the glade." Sure of yore it wont not so ;
he came; And why so often, Sir Eliduc,
By her bower the ladye stoodDost thou thread the woods alone?" " What news, what news, my faithful The knight look'd up on Gildeluec, lad,
(wood ? " But answering word spake none. Bringest thou from dark green
2. The knight was a gallant knight, the
His cuirass on the wall :
The prison'd falcon pines away ;
To chide his lord's delay.
5. “ From turn to turn,” replied the page,
• I lurk’d Sir Eliduc's path to see ; And at length he enter'd the hermit's
cell, Beneath the chestnut tree; And while he mourn'd that cell within,
I listen'd the door beside, [love, And heard him say—0, murder'd
Would for thee that I had died !
3. At peep of morn, 'mid thick green
He loves to be alone.
To behold his alter'd ways.
6. 666 To me thou gavest thy love ; for me
Did'st leave thy father's land ;
Upon this foreign strand!
12. Sir Eliduc came home-he sate 66 Then farewell love--and farewell With his elbow leant on knee;
ye, He spoke not a word of wail, nor The vanities of life : sigh’d,
Oh would, fair light, that thou had'st Though bow'd to earth was he
lived, 66 Oh tell me why, Sir Eliduc,
To shine his peerless wife :Thou peak'st, and pin'st, and roam'st As it is, I'll love the sun no more,
Let to others his beams be given ; “ Ask the tree, by the forky lightnings I'll seal mine ears to the sounds of scathed,
earth, Why wither its boughs away! And give my heart to heaven !".
13. " Ask the forest oak why down it falls
The cloister hath another nun, Beneath the woodman's stroke ; The gentlest, purest, holiest there; Ask life, when death the tyrant calls, Before the crucifix, morn and eve,
Why it yields to such a yoke."- She kneels in fervent prayer : Through the wood, in morning's soli. Her thoughts are of the things tude,
above, Gildeluec roam'd alone,
Her dreams have all a blest ode, And knock'd at the door of the her. Where, 'midst the bowers of Para mitage,
dise, But answer back came none.
White angels walk abroad.
14. With a beating heart, and trembling Sir Eliduc sits in a lonely home, hand,
He hath built a marble tomb, The wicket latch she raised,
And within it laid the foreign maid And in as she went, with timid eyes, In the wild wood's central gloom : Through its twilight gloom she With railings of gold he hath railed it gazed.
round, Why starts she back? She sees a couch Beside the hermit's mossy cell ; With coverlet of snow;
He hath lock'd it with a silver She lifted it up in her wonderment, key, And a lady slept below!
And bidden a last farewell.
15. She slept-but'twas the sleep of death. 'Twas a lone sequester'd place; through Ah! nothing could compare
boughs With the sparkling of her jewell’d The sky o’erhead was seen ; robes,
And wild vines ran the stems about, And the pearls in her raven hair,
And festooning ivy green ; Save her form—and that was quite 'Twas a favourite haunt for nightindivine !
gales She look’das of heaven she dream'd, Singing the moonlight through ; While the lustre of her loveliness, And by day the living emerald shade
Like a halo round her stream'd. Echo'd the stock-dove's coo.
16. But waned from her lip was the cherry 'Twas one of Nature's shrines-the
birds Her silk robe was her swathing And beasts came flocking there : shroud ;
The golden pheasant, and vocal And her eyes were closed in dim lark, eclipse,
And squirrel, and hart, and hare ; Like stars behind a cloud.
a footstep breaks the Was nought on earth so beautiful!
gloom, Gildeluec sigh’d_“ Ah me!
The long still season lone; No wonder, seeing what thou hast Rains, winds, and sunbeams kiss the been,
tombMylord's heart turn'd to thee! But Sir Eliduc is gone!
18. The war-steed neighs_but not from 'Twas a glorious, glowing September stall
eve, Caparison'd by the gate;
As the knight rode down the dale; The cuirass hangs not on the wall, The broad low sun shone along the As it hath hung of late:
land, His own keen hands have wiped And kiss'd his burnish'd mail : away
Hawk, hound, and horse roam masterThe red rust from his sword,
less Which again sends out a silvery His serving-men grow greygleam,
His roofs are moss'd ;-'tistwenty years As if it knew its lord.
Since the warrior went away!
Traditions in the East are imperishable, and the singularly romantic genius of the country often invests them with the mingled force of superstition and fancy. Among the most frequent and favourite of these traditions, is the descent of angels enamoured of earthly beauty-a tale evidently formed on the language of the Pentateuch, alluding to the first défection of the patriarchal family—the “ sons of God," the Sethites, allying themselves with the “ daughters of men,” the descendants of Cain. The « Loves of the Angels,” by the poet Moore, gives the history; the following lines are the mere transcript of the idea :
« Rest thee, rest thee, weary stranger,
Now the day is falling dim; Wilt thou dare the forest ranger ?
Wilt thou tempt the torrent's brim?" • Holy Bramin, I must wander
Over mount and over wave; See, the vision beckons yonder,
Leading to an unknown grave.” 66 Gentle maiden, 'tis the taper
Of the spirit of the wold, As, upon
his car of vapour, On he sweeps, blue, bright, and cold." " Man of age, I must not linger
Till the noble dead is found; „See, the spectre's shadowy finger
Pointing to the erimson ground.”
“ Mine, young maiden, is no bower
Hung with gold and silken pall ; Sorrow is an humble flower,
Fittest for the cottage wall."
Now, beneath the straw-wove awning,
Sit the maiden and the sage; Till the silver morn-star dawning,
Light her on her pilgrimage.
“ Taste this goblet, lovely maiden, • Come,” he cries, “ earth's loveliest Taste these fruits, and weep no flower;
Come, and be thy lover's bride ; Let old age be anguish-laden,
Where celestial roses shower, Tears of youth should soon be o'er." Where is pour’d joy's richest tide. Of the purple grape she tasted, - When I came, a pilgrim lowly, Tasted of the Shiraz wine ;
Sent to mark the world's decline; Still she saw the fruits unwasted, Then I found thee, bright and holy
Still the brimming goblet shine! One pure diamond in the mine. But what strains are round her flowing? « With no earthly flame I loved thee,
What wild sweets are on the wind ? Thine, too, was no earthly flame; Sudden radiance o'er her glowing,
Still thro' pain and woe I proved thee, Sudden spells around her twined. Still thy faith no pang could tame. To the minstrel sounds ascending, “ Then to absence long I left thee; Swift the cottage walls arise ;
Still thy sigh in secret stole ; Now its thatch is o'er her bending, Nay, when time of hope bereft thee, Lovely as the sunset skies.
Still my image fill'd thy soul. Painted with a thousand glories, “ Sweet one, I was watching o'er thee, Arching like a rosy cloud,
Ever loving, ever nigh, Passion's high heroic stories
When the tempest onward bore thee, On its golden roof embow'd.
When the tiger bounded by. Now the rush of thousand pinions, “ Now thy weary way is ended,
Mix'd with harps, is heard afar, Thou hast found mine only tomb ; Stooping from their blue dominions, With thy lover's spirit blended, Children of the Vesper-star.
Leave, oh leave this world of gloom !" Where is gone the ancient stranger ? Lip to lip, like new-born roses,
Whither shall the maiden fly? Was the vow of passion seal'd Yet what heart can dream of danger, Now the opening roof discloses
In that splendour-flashing eye ? Golden chariots, topaz-wheel’d. Diamonds on the caftan glitter'd All with joy celestial blushing Rubies on the sandal shone.
Flies she to her lover's arms; Can a thought by sin embitter'd Tears of mutual rapture gushing
To that angel smile be known? Spirit's love, and woman's charms. Now, with glorious beauty beaming, On the air her bright adorer, Stands the Bramin, wing'd and Spreading his empurpled wings, crown'd;
Like shaft of lightning bore Spirit, with heaven's lustre gleaming her. On his brow the star-drops bound. While upon his neck she clings.
Now is reached the starry portal,
Now her angel wreath is won;