9JarUmej

1the world is full of orphans firstly, those
2Who are so in the strict sense of the phrase
3But many a lonely tree the loftier grows
4Than others crowded in the forest's maze
5the next are such as are not doomed to lose
6their tender parents in their budding days
7But merely their parental tenderness
8Which leaves them orphans of the heart no less.
9
10the next are 'only children', as they are styled
11Who grow up children only, since the old saw
12Pronounces that an 'only' 's a spoilt child.
13But not to go too far, I hold it law
14That where their education, harsh or mild
15'Transgresses the great bounds of love or awe
16the sufferers, be't in heart or intellect
17Whate'er the cause are orphans in effect.
18
19But to return unto the stricter rule
20As far as words make rules, our common notion
21Of orphans paints at once a parish school
22 A half-starved babe, a wreck upon life's ocean
23A human what the Italians nickname 'mule'
24 A theme for pity or some worse emotion
25Yet, if examined, it might be admitted
26the wealthiest orphans are to be more pitied.
27
28Too soon they are parents to themselves for what
29Are tutors, guardians, and so forth, compared
30With Nature's genial genitors, so that
31A child of Chancery, that Star Chamber ward
32I'll take the likeness I can first come at
33Is like a duckling by Dame Partlett reared
34And frights, especially if 'tis a daughter
35the old hen by running headlong to the water.
36
37there is a commonplace book argument
38Which glibly glides from every vulgar tongue
39When any dare a new light to present
40'If you are right, then everybody's wrong.'
41Suppose the converse of this precedent
42So often urged, so loudly and so long
43'If you are wrong, then everybody's right.'
44Was ever everybody yet so quite?
45
46therefore I would solicit free discussion
47Upon all points, no matter what or whose
48Because as ages upon ages push on
49the last is apt the former to accuse
50Of pillowing its head on a pincushion
51Heedless of pricks because it was obtuse.
52What was a paradox becomes a truth or
53A something like it, as bear witness Luther.
54
55the sacraments have been reduced to two
56And witches unto none, though somewhat late
57Since burning aged women save a few
58Not witches, only bitches, who create
59Mischief in families, as some know or knew
60Should still be singed, but slightly let me state
61Has been declared an act of inurbanity
62MalgéSir Matthew Hale's great humanity.
63
64Great Galileo was debarred the sun
65Because he fixed it, and to stop his talking
66How earth could round the solar orbit run
67Found his own legs embargoed from mere walking.
68the man was well nigh dead, ere men begun
69To think his skull had not some need of caulking
70But now it seems he's right, his notion just
71No doubt a consolation to his dust.
72
73Pythagoras, Locke, Socrates but pages
74Might be filled up, as vainly as before
75With the sad usage of all sorts of sages
76Who in his lifetime each was deemed a bore.
77the loftiest minds outrun their tardy ages
78This they must bear with and perhaps much more.
79the wise man's sure when he no more can share it, he
80Will have a firm post-obit on posterity.
81
82If such doom waits each intellectual giant
83We little people in our lesser way
84To life's small rubs should surely be more pliant
85And so for one will I, as well I may.
86Would that I were less bilious but oh fie on't!
87Just as I make my mind up everyday
88To be a totus teres stoic, sage
89the wind shifts and I fly into a rage.
90
91Temperate I am, yet never had a temper
92Modest I am, yet with some slight assurance
93Changeable too, yet somehow idem semper
94Patient, but not enamoured of endurance
95Cheerful, but sometimes rather apt to whimper
96Mild, but at times a sort of Hercules furens
97So that I almost think that the same skin
98For one without has two or three within.
99
100Our hero was in canto the sixteenth
101Left in a tender moonlight situation
102Such as enables man to show his strength
103Moral or physical On this occasion
104Whether his virtue triumphed, or at length
105His vice for he was of a kindling nation
106Is more than I shall venture to describe
107Unless some beauty with a kiss should bribe.
108
109I leave the thing a problem, like all things.
110the morning came, and breakfast, tea and toast
111Of which most men partake, but no one sings.
112the company, whose birth, wealth, worth have cost
113My trembling lyre already several strings
114Assembled with our hostess and mine host.
115the guests dropped in, the last but one, Her Grace
116the latest, Juan with his virgin face.
117
118Which best is to encounter, ghost or none
119'Twere difficult to say, but Juan looked
120As if he had combated with more than one
121Being wan and worn, with eyes that hardly brooked
122the light that through the Gothic windows shone.
123Her Grace too had a sort of air rebuked
124Seemed pale and shivered, as if she had kept
125A vigil or dreamt rather more than slept.
126
127How sweetly shines, through azure skies
128The lamp of Heaven on Lora's shore
129Where Alva's hoary turrets rise
130And hear the din of arms no more!
131
132But often has yon rolling moon
133On Alva's casques of silver play'd
134And view'd, at midnight's silent noon
135Her chiefs in gleaming mail array'd
136
137And, on the crimson'd rocks beneath
138Which scowl o'er ocean's sullen flow
139Pale in the scatter'd ranks of death
140She saw the gasping warrior low
141
142While many an eye, which ne'er again
143Could mark the rising orb of day
144Turn'd feebly from the gory plain
145Beheld in death her fading ray.
146
147Once, to those eyes the lamp of Love
148They blest her dear propitious light
149But, now, she glimmer'd from above
150A sad, funereal torch of night.
151
152Faded is Alva's noble race
153And grey her towers are seen afar
154No more her heroes urge the chase
155Or roll the crimson tide of war.
156
157But, who was last of Alva's clan?
158Why grows the moss on Alva's stone?
159Her towers resound no steps of man
160They echo to the gale alone.
161
162And, when that gale is fierce and high
163A sound is heard in yonder hall
164It rises hoarsely through the sky
165And vibrates o'er the mould'ring wall.
166
167Yes, when the eddying tempest sighs
168It shakes the shield of Oscar brave
169But, there, no more his banners rise
170No more his plumes of sable wave.
171
172Fair shone the sun on Oscar's birth
173When Angus hail'd his eldest born
174The vassals round their chieftain's hearth
175Crowd to applaud the happy morn.
176
177They feast upon the mountain deer
178The Pibroch rais'd its piercing note
179To gladden more their Highland cheer
180The strains in martial numbers float.
181
182And they who heard the war-notes wild
183Hop'd that, one day, the Pibroch's strain
184Should play before the Hero's child
185While he should lead the Tartan train.
186
187Another year is quickly past
188And Angus hails another son
189His natal day is like the last
190Nor soon the jocund feast was done.
191
192Taught by their sire to bend the bow
193On Alva's dusky hills of wind
194The boys in childhood chas'd the roe
195And left their hounds in speed behind.
196
197But ere their years of youth are o'er
198They mingle in the ranks of war
199They lightly wheel the bright claymore
200And send the whistling arrow far.
201
202Dark was the flow of Oscar's hair
203Wildly it stream'd along the gale
204But Allan's locks were bright and fair
205And pensive seem'd his cheek, and pale.
206
207But Oscar own'd a hero's soul
208His dark eye shone through beams of truth
209Allan had early learn'd controul
210And smooth his words had been from youth.
211
212Both, both were brave the Saxon spear
213Was shiver'd oft beneath their steel
214And Oscar's bosom scorn'd to fear
215But Oscar's bosom knew to feel
216
217While Allan's soul belied his form
218Unworthy with such charms to dwell
219Keen as the lightning of the storm
220On foes his deadly vengeance fell.
221
222From high Southannon's distant tower
223Arrived a young and noble dame
224With Kenneth's lands to form her dower
225Glenalvon's blue-eyed daughter came
226
227And Oscar claim'd the beauteous bride
228And Angus on his Oscar smil'd
229It soothed the father's feudal pride
230Thus to obtain Glenalvon's child.
231
232Hark! to the Pibroch's pleasing note
233Hark! to the swelling nuptial song
234In joyous strains the voices float
235And, still, the choral peal prolong.
236
237See how the Heroes' blood-red plumes
238Assembled wave in Alva's hall
239Each youth his varied plaid assumes
240Attending on their chieftain's call.
241
242It is not war their aid demands
243The Pibroch plays the song of peace
244To Oscar's nuptials throng the bands
245Nor yet the sounds of pleasure cease.
246
247But where is Oscar? sure 'tis late
248Is this a bridegroom's ardent flame?
249While thronging guests and ladies wait
250Nor Oscar nor his brother came.
251
252At length young Allan join'd the bride
253"Why comes not Oscar?" Angus said
254"Is he not here?" the Youth replied
255"With me he rov'd not o'er the glade
256
257"Perchance, forgetful of the day
258'Tis his to chase the bounding roe
259Or Ocean's waves prolong his stay
260Yet, Oscar's bark is seldom slow."
261
262"Oh, no!" the anguish'd Sire rejoin'd
263"Nor chase, nor wave, my Boy delay
264Would he to Mora seem unkind?
265Would aught to her impede his way?
266
267"Oh, search, ye Chiefs! oh, search around!
268Allan, with these, through Alva fly
269Till Oscar, till my son is found
270Haste, haste, nor dare attempt reply."
271
272All is confusion through the vale
273The name of Oscar hoarsely rings
274It rises on the murm'ring gale
275Till night expands her dusky wings.
276
277It breaks the stillness of the night
278But echoes through her shades in vain
279It sounds through morning's misty light
280But Oscar comes not o'er the plain.
281
282Three days, three sleepless nights, the Chief
283For Oscar search'd each mountain cave
284Then hope is lost in boundless grief
285His locks in grey-torn ringlets wave.
286
287"Oscar! my son! thou God of Heav'n
288Restore the prop of sinking age!
289Or, if that hope no more is given
290Yield his assassin to my rage.
291
292"Yes, on some desert rocky shore
293My Oscar's whiten'd bones must lie
294Then grant, thou God! I ask no more
295With him his frantic Sire may die!
296
297"Yet, he may live, away, despair!
298Be calm, my soul! he yet may live
299T' arraign my fate, my voice forbear!
300O God! my impious prayer forgive.
301
302"What, if he live for me no more
303I sink forgotten in the dust
304The hope of Alva's age is o'er
305Alas! can pangs like these be just?"
306
307Thus did the hapless Parent mourn
308Till Time, who soothes severest woe
309Had bade serenity return
310And made the tear-drop cease to flow.
311
312For, still, some latent hope surviv'd
313That Oscar might once more appear
314His hope now droop'd and now revived
315Till Time had told a tedious year.
316
317Days roll'd along, the orb of light
318Again had run his destined race
319No Oscar bless'd his father's sight
320And sorrow left a fainter trace.
321
322For youthful Allan still remain'd
323And, now, his father's only joy
324And Mora's heart was quickly gain'd
325For beauty crown'd the fair-hair'd boy.
326
327She thought that Oscar low was laid
328And Allan's face was wondrous fair
329If Oscar liv'd, some other maid
330Had claim'd his faithless bosom's care.
331
332And Angus said, if one year more
333In fruitless hope was pass'd away
334His fondest scruples should be o'er
335And he would name their nuptial day.
336
337Slow roll'd the moons, but blest at last
338Arriv'd the dearly destin'd morn
339The year of anxious trembling past
340What smiles the lovers' cheeks adorn!
341
342Hark to the Pibroch's pleasing note!
343Hark to the swelling nuptial song!
344In joyous strains the voices float
345And, still, the choral peal prolong.
346
347Again the clan, in festive crowd
348Throng through the gate of Alva's hall
349The sounds of mirth re-echo loud
350And all their former joy recall.
351
352But who is he, whose darken'd brow
353Glooms in the midst of general mirth?
354Before his eyes' far fiercer glow
355The blue flames curdle o'er the hearth.
356
357Dark is the robe which wraps his form
358And tall his plume of gory red
359His voice is like the rising storm
360But light and trackless is his tread.
361
362'Tis noon of night, the pledge goes round
363The bridegroom's health is deeply quaff'd
364With shouts the vaulted roofs resound
365And all combine to hail the draught.
366
367Sudden the stranger-chief arose
368And all the clamorous crowd are hush'd
369And Angus' cheek with wonder glows
370And Mora's tender bosom blush'd.
371
372"Old man!" he cried, "this pledge is done
373Thou saw'st 'twas truly drunk by me
374It hail'd the nuptials of thy son
375Now will I claim a pledge from thee.
376
377"While all around is mirth and joy
378To bless thy Allan's happy lot
379Say, hadst thou ne'er another boy?
380Say, why should Oscar be forgot?"
381
382"Alas!" the hapless Sire replied
383The big tear starting as he spoke
384"When Oscar left my hall, or died
385This aged heart was almost broke.
386
387"Thrice has the earth revolv'd her course
388Since Oscar's form has bless'd my sight
389And Allan is my last resource
390Since martial Oscar's death, or flight."
391
392"'Tis well," replied the stranger stern
393And fiercely flash'd his rolling eye
394"Thy Oscar's fate, I fain would learn
395Perhaps the Hero did not die.
396
397"Perchance, if those, whom most he lov'd
398Would call, thy Oscar might return
399Perchance, the chief has only rov'd
400For him thy Beltane, yet, may burn.
401
402"Fill high the bowl the table round
403We will not claim the pledge by stealth
404With wine let every cup be crown'd
405Pledge me departed Oscar's health."
406
407"With all my soul," old Angus said
408And fill'd his goblet to the brim
409"Here's to my boy! alive or dead
410I ne'er shall find a son like him."
411
412"Bravely, old man, this health has sped
413But why does Allan trembling stand?
414Come, drink remembrance of the dead
415And raise thy cup with firmer hand."
416
417The crimson glow of Allan's face
418Was turn'd at once to ghastly hue
419The drops of death each other chace
420Adown in agonizing dew.
421
422Thrice did he raise the goblet high
423And thrice his lips refused to taste
424For thrice he caught the stranger's eye
425On his with deadly fury plac'd.
426
427"And is it thus a brother hails
428A brother's fond remembrance here?
429If thus affection's strength prevails
430What might we not expect from fear?"
431
432Roused by the sneer, he rais'd the bowl
433"Would Oscar now could share our mirth!"
434Internal fear appall'd his soul
435He said, and dash'd the cup to earth.
436
437"'Tis he! I hear my murderer's voice!"
438Loud shrieks a darkly gleaming Form.
439"A murderer's voice!" the roof replies
440And deeply swells the bursting storm.
441
442The tapers wink, the chieftains shrink
443The stranger's gone,amidst the crew
444A Form was seen, in tartan green
445And tall the shade terrific grew.
446
447His waist was bound with a broad belt round
448His plume of sable stream'd on high
449But his breast was bare, with the red wounds there
450And fix'd was the glare of his glassy eye.
451
452And thrice he smil'd, with his eye so wild
453On Angus bending low the knee
454And thrice he frown'd, on a Chief on the ground
455Whom shivering crowds with horror see.
456
457The bolts loud roll from pole to pole
458And thunders through the welkin ring
459And the gleaming form, through the mist of the storm
460Was borne on high by the whirlwind's wing.
461
462Cold was the feast, the revel ceas'd.
463Who lies upon the stony floor?
464Oblivion press'd old Angus' breast
465At length his life-pulse throbs once more.
466
467"Away, away! let the leech essay
468To pour the light on Allan's eyes"
469His sand is done,his race is run
470Oh! never more shall Allan rise!
471
472But Oscar's breast is cold as clay
473His locks are lifted by the gale
474And Allan's barbèd arrow lay
475With him in dark Glentanar's vale
476
477And whence the dreadful stranger came
478Or who, no mortal wight can tell
479But no one doubts the form of flame
480For Alva's sons knew Oscar well.
481
482Ambition nerv'd young Allan's hand
483Exulting demons wing'd his dart
484While Envy wav'd her burning brand
485And pour'd her venom round his heart
486
487Swift is the shaft from Allan's bow
488Whose streaming life-blood stains his side?
489Dark Oscar's sable crest is low
490The dart has drunk his vital tide
491
492And Mora's eye could Allan move
493She bade his wounded pride rebel
494Alas! that eyes, which beam'd with love
495Should urge the soul to deeds of Hell.
496
497Lo! see'st thou not a lonely tomb
498Which rises o'er a warrior dead?
499It glimmers through the twilight gloom
500Oh! that is Allan's nuptial bed.
501
502Far, distant far, the noble grave
503Which held his clan's great ashes stood
504And o'er his corse no banners wave
505For they were stain'd with kindred blood.
506
507What minstrel grey, what hoary bard
508Shall Allan's deeds on harp-strings raise?
509The song is glory's chief reward
510But who can strike a murd'rer's praise?
511
512Unstrung, untouch'd, the harp must stand
513No minstrel dare the theme awake
514Guilt would benumb his palsied hand
515His harp in shuddering chords would break.
516
517No lyre of fame, no hallow'd verse
518Shall sound his glories high in air
519A dying father's bitter curse
520A brother's death-groan echoes there.
521
522Oh! yes, I will own we were dear to each other
523The friendships of childhood, though fleeting, are true
524The love which you felt was the love of a brother
525Nor less the affection I cherish'd for you.
526
527But Friendship can vary her gentle dominion
528The attachment of years, in a moment expires
529Like Love, too, she moves on a swift-waving pinion
530But glows not, like Love, with unquenchable fires.
531
532Full oft have we wander'd through Ida together
533And blest were the scenes of our youth, I allow
534In the spring of our life, how serene is the weather!
535But Winter's rude tempests are gathering now.
536
537No more with Affection shall Memory blending
538The wonted delights of our childhood retrace
539When Pride steels the bosom, the heart is unbending
540And what would be Justice appears a disgrace.
541
542However, dear George, for I still must esteem you
543The few, whom I love, I can never upbraid
544The chance, which has lost, may in future redeem you
545Repentance will cancel the vow you have made.
546
547I will not complain, and though chill'd is affection
548With me no corroding resentment shall live
549My bosom is calm'd by the simple reflection
550That both may be wrong, and that both should forgive.
551
552You knew, that my soul, that my heart, my existence
553If danger demanded, were wholly your own
554You knew me unalter'd, by years or by distance
555Devoted to love and to friendship alone.
556
557You knew,but away with the vain retrospection!
558The bond of affection no longer endures
559Too late you may droop o'er the fond recollection
560And sigh for the friend, who was formerly yours.
561
562For the present, we part,I will hope not for ever
563For time and regret will restore you at last
564To forget our dissension we both should endeavor
565I ask no atonement, but days like the past.
566
567Who would not laugh, if Lawrence, hired to grace
568His costly canvas with each flattered face
569Abused his art, till Nature, with a blush
570Saw cits grow Centaurs underneath his brush?
571Or, should some limner join, for show or sale
572A Maid of Honor to a Mermaid's tail?
573Or low Dubost as once the world has seen
574Degrade God's creatures in his graphic spleen?
575Not all that forced politeness, which defends
576Fools in their faults, could gag his grinning friends.
577Believe me, Moschus, like that picture seems
578The book which, sillier than a sick man's dreams
579Displays a crowd of figures incomplete
580Poetic Nightmares, without head or feet.
581
582Poets and painters, as all artists know
583May shoot a little with a lengthened bow
584We claim this mutual mercy for our task
585And grant in turn the pardon which we ask
586But make not monsters spring from gentle dams
587Birds breed not vipers, tigers nurse not lambs.
588
589A labored, long Exordium, sometimes tends
590Like patriot speeches but to paltry ends
591And nonsense in a lofty note goes down
592As Pertness passes with a legal gown
593Thus many a Bard describes in pompous strain
594The clear brook babbling through the goodly plain
595The groves of Granta, and her Gothic halls
596King's Coll-Cam's stream-stained windows, and old walls
597
598Or, in adventurous numbers, neatly aims
599To paint a rainbow, or the river Thames
600You sketch a tree, and so perhaps may shine
601But daub a shipwreck like an alehouse sign
602You plan a vase it dwindles to a pot
603Then glide down Grub-street fasting and forgot
604Laughed into Lethe by some quaint Review
605Whose wit is never troublesome till true.
606
607In fine, to whatsoever you aspire
608Let it at least be simple and entire.
609The greater portion of the rhyming tribe
610Give ear, my friend, for thou hast been a scribe
611Are led astray by some peculiar lure.
612I labour to be brief become obscure
613One falls while following Elegance too fast
614Another soars, inflated with Bombast
615Too low a third crawls on, afraid to fly
616He spins his subject to Satiety
617Absurdly varying, he at last engraves
618Fish in the woods, and boars beneath the waves!
619
620Unless your care's exact, your judgment nice
621The flight from Folly leads but into Vice
622None are complete, all wanting in some part
623Like certain tailors, limited in art.
624For galligaskins Slowshears is your man
625But coats must claim another artisan.
626Now this to me, I own, seems much the same
627As Vulcan's feet to bear Apollo's frame
628Or, with a fair complexion, to expose
629Black eyes, black ringlets, but a bottle nose!
630Dear Authors! suit your topics to your strength
631And ponder well your subject, and its length
632Nor lift your load, before you're quite aware
633What weight your shoulders will, or will not, bear.
634But lucid Order, and Wit's siren voice
635Await the Poet, skillful in his choice
636With native Eloquence he soars along
637Grace in his thoughts, and Music in his song.
638
639Let Judgment teach him wisely to combine
640With future parts the now omitted line
641This shall the Author choose, or that reject
642Precise in style, and cautious to select
643Nor slight applause will candid pens afford
644To him who furnishes a wanting word.
645Then fear not, if 'tis needful, to produce
646Some term unknown, or obsolete in use
647As Pitt has furnished us a word or two
648Which Lexicographers declined to do
649So you indeed, with care, but be content
650To take this license rarely may invent.
651New words find credit in these latter days
652If neatly grafted on a Gallic phrase
65380 What Chaucer, Spenser did, we scarce refuse
654To Dryden's or to Pope's maturer Muse.
655If you can add a little, say why not
656As well as William Pitt, and Walter Scott?
657Since they, by force of rhyme and force of lungs
658Enriched our Island's ill-united tongues
659'Tis then and shall be lawful to present
660Reform in writing, as in Parliament.
661
662As forests shed their foliage by degrees
663So fade expressions which in season please
664And we and ours, alas! are due to Fate
665And works and words but dwindle to a date.
666Though as a Monarch nods, and Commerce calls
667Impetuous rivers stagnate in canals
668Though swamps subdued, and marshes drained, sustain
669The heavy ploughshare and the yellow grain
670And rising ports along the busy shore
671Protect the vessel from old Ocean's roar
672All, all, must perish but, surviving last
673The love of Letters half preserves the past
674True, some decay, yet not a few revive
675Though those shall sink, which now appear to thrive
676As Custom arbitrates, whose shifting sway
677Our life and language must alike obey.
678
679The immortal wars which Gods and Angels wage
680Are they not shown in Milton's sacred page?
681His strain will teach what numbers best belong
682To themes celestial told in Epic song.
683The slow, sad stanza will correctly paint
684The Lover's anguish, or the Friend's complaint.
685But which deserves the Laurel Rhyme or Blank?
686Which holds on Helicon the higher rank?
687Let squabbling critics by themselves dispute
688This point, as puzzling as a Chancery suit.
689Satiric rhyme first sprang from selfish spleen.
690You doubt see Dryden, Pope, St. Patrick's Dean.
691Blank verse is now, with one consent, allied
692To Tragedy, and rarely quits her side.
693Though mad Almanzor rhymed in Dryden's days
694No sing-song Hero rants in modern plays
695Whilst modest Comedy her verse foregoes
696For jest and 'pun' in very middling prose.
697Not that our Bens or Beaumonts show the worse
698Or lose one point, because they wrote in verse.
699But so Thalia pleases to appear
700Poor Virgin! damned some twenty times a year!
701
702Whate'er the scene, let this advice have weight
703Adapt your language to your Hero's state.
704At times Melpomene forgets to groan
705And brisk Thalia takes a serious tone
706Nor unregarded will the act pass by
707Where angry Townly ["lifts his voice on high."
708Again, our Shakespeare limits verse to Kings
709When common prose will serve for common things
710And lively Hal resigns heroic ire
711To "hollaing Hotspur" and his sceptred sire.
712'Tis not enough, ye Bards, with all your art
713To polish poems they must touch the heart
714Where'er the scene be laid, whate'er the song
715Still let it bear the hearer's soul along
716Command your audience or to smile or weep
717Whiche'er may please you anything but sleep.
718The Poet claims our tears but, by his leave
719Before I shed them, let me see 'him' grieve.
720
721If banished Romeo feigned nor sigh nor tear
722Lulled by his languor, I could sleep or sneer.
723Sad words, no doubt, become a serious face
724And men look angry in the proper place.
725At double meanings folks seem wondrous sly
726And Sentiment prescribes a pensive eye
727For Nature formed at first the inward man
728And actors copy Nature when they can.
729She bids the beating heart with rapture bound
730Raised to the Stars, or levelled with the ground
731And for Expression's aid, 'tis said, or sung
732She gave our mind's interpreter the tongue
733Who, worn with use, of late would fain dispense
734At least in theatres with common sense
735O'erwhelm with sound the Boxes, Gallery, Pit
736And raise a laugh with anything but Wit.
737
738To skilful writers it will much import
739Whence spring their scenes, from common life or Court
740Whether they seek applause by smile or tear
741To draw a Lying Valet, or a Lear
742A sage, or rakish youngster wild from school
743A wandering Peregrine, or plain John Bull
744All persons please when Nature's voice prevails
745Scottish or Irish, born in Wilts or Wales.
746
747Or follow common fame, or forge a plot
748Who cares if mimic heroes lived or not!
749One precept serves to regulate the scene
750Make it appear as if it might have been.
751
752If some Drawcansir you aspire to draw
753Present him raving, and above all law
754If female furies in your scheme are planned
755Macbeth's fierce dame is ready to your hand
756For tears and treachery, for good and evil
757Constance, King Richard, Hamlet, and the Devil!
758But if a new design you dare essay
759And freely wander from the beaten way
760True to your characters, till all be past
761Preserve consistency from first to last.
762
763Tis hard to venture where our betters fail
764Or lend fresh interest to a twice told tale
765And yet, perchance,'tis wiser to prefer
766A hackneyed plot, than choose a new, and err
767Yet copy not too closely, but record
768More justly, thought for thought than word for word
769Nor trace your Prototype through narrow ways
770But only follow where he merits praise.
771
772For you, young Bard! whom luckless fate may lead
773To tremble on the nod of all who read
774Ere your first score of cantos Time unrolls
775Beware for God's sake, don't begin like Bowles!
776"Awake a louder and a loftier strain,"
777And pray, what follows from his boiling brain?
778He sinks to Southey's level in a trice
779Whose Epic Mountains never fail in mice!
780Not so of yore awoke your mighty Sire
781The tempered warblings of his master-lyre
782Soft as the gentler breathing of the lute
783"Of Man's first disobedience and the fruit"
784He speaks, but, as his subject swells along
785Earth, Heaven, and Hades echo with the song."
786Still to the "midst of things" he hastens on
787As if we witnessed all already done
788Leaves on his path whatever seems too mean
789To raise the subject, or adorn the scene
790Gives, as each page improves upon the sight
791Not smoke from brightness, but from darkness light
792And truth and fiction with such art compounds
793We know not where to fix their several bounds.
794If you would please the Public, deign to hear
795What soothes the many-headed monster's ear
796
797If your heart triumph when the hands of all
798Applaud in thunder at the curtain's fall
799Deserve those plaudits study Nature's page
800And sketch the striking traits of every age
801While varying Man and varying years unfold
802Life's little tale, so oft, so vainly told
803Observe his simple childhood's dawning days
804His pranks, his prate, his playmates, and his plays
805Till time at length the mannish tyro weans
806And prurient vice outstrips his tardy teens!
807
808Behold him Freshman! forced no more to groan
809O'er Virgil's [18] devilish verses and his own
810Prayers are too tedious, Lectures too abstruse
811He flies from Tavell's frown to "Fordham's Mews"
812Unlucky Tavell! doomed to daily cares
813By pugilistic pupils, and by bears
814Fines, Tutors, tasks, Conventions threat in vain
815Before hounds, hunters, and Newmarket Plain.
816Rough with his elders, with his equals rash
817Civil to sharpers, prodigal of cash
818Constant to nought save hazard and a whore
819Yet cursing both for both have made him sore
820Unread unless since books beguile disease
821The P----x becomes his passage to Degrees
822Fooled, pillaged, dunned, he wastes his terms away
823And unexpelled, perhaps, retires M.A.
824Master of Arts! as hells and clubs proclaim
825Where scarce a blackleg bears a brighter name!
826
827Launched into life, extinct his early fire
828He apes the selfish prudence of his Sire
829Marries for money, chooses friends for rank
830Buys land, and shrewdly trusts not to the Bank
831Sits in the Senate gets a son and heir
832Sends him to Harrow for himself was there.
833Mute, though he votes, unless when called to cheer
834His son's so sharp he'll see the dog a Peer!
835
836Manhood declines Age palsies every limb
837He quits the scene or else the scene quits him
838Scrapes wealth, o'er each departing penny grieves
839And Avarice seizes all Ambition leaves
840Counts cent per cent, and smiles, or vainly frets
841O'er hoards diminished by young Hopeful's debts
842Weighs well and wisely what to sell or buy
843Complete in all life's lessons but to die
844Peevish and spiteful, doting, hard to please
845Commending every time, save times like these
846Crazed, querulous, forsaken, half forgot
847Expires unwept is buried Let him rot!
848
849But from the Drama let me not digress
850Nor spare my precepts, though they please you less.
851Though Woman weep, and hardest hearts are stirred
852When what is done is rather seen than heard
853Yet many deeds preserved in History's page
854Are better told than acted on the stage
855The ear sustains what shocks the timid eye
856And Horror thus subsides to Sympathy
857True Briton all beside, I here am French
858Bloodshed 'tis surely better to retrench
859The gladiatorial gore we teach to flow
860In tragic scenes disgusts though but in show
861We hate the carnage while we see the trick
862And find small sympathy in being sick.
863Not on the stage the regicide Macbeth
864Appals an audience with a Monarch's death
865To gaze when sable Hubert threats to sear
866Young Arthur's eyes, can ours or Nature bear?
867A haltered heroine Johnson sought to slay
868We saved Irene, but half damned the play
869And Heaven be praised! our tolerating times
870Stint Metamorphoses to Pantomimes
871And Lewis' self, with all his sprites, would quake
872To change Earl Osmond's negro to a snake!
873Because, in scenes exciting joy or grief
874We loathe the action which exceeds belief
875And yet, God knows! what may not authors do
876Whose Postscripts prate of dyeing "heroines blue"?
877
878Above all things, _Dan_ Poet, if you can
879Eke out your acts, I pray, with mortal man
880Nor call a ghost, unless some cursed scrape
881 Must open ten trap-doors for your escape.
882Of all the monstrous things I'd fain forbid
883I loathe an Opera worse than Dennis did
884Where good and evil persons, right or wrong
885Rage, love, and aught but moralise in song.
886Hail, last memorial of our foreign friends
887Which Gaul allows, and still Hesperia lends!
888Napoleon's edicts no embargo lay
889On whores spies singers wisely shipped away.
890Our giant Capital, whose squares are spread
891Where rustics earned, and now may beg, their bread
892In all iniquity is grown so nice
893It scorns amusements which are not of price.
894Hence the pert shopkeeper, whose throbbing ear
895Aches with orchestras which he pays to hear
896Whom shame, not sympathy, forbids to snore
897His anguish doubling by his own "encore"
898Squeezed in "Fop's Alley," jostled by the beaux
899Teased with his hat, and trembling for his toes
900Scarce wrestles through the night, nor tastes of ease
901Till the dropped curtain gives a glad release
902Why this, and more, he suffers can ye guess?
903Because it costs him dear, and makes him dress!
904
905So prosper eunuchs from Etruscan schools
906Give us but fiddlers, and they're sure of fools!
907Ere scenes were played by many a reverend clerk
908What harm, if David danced before the ark?
909In Christmas revels, simple country folks
910Were pleased with morrice-mumm'ry and coarse jokes.
911Improving years, with things no longer known
912Produced blithe Punch and merry Madame Joan
913Who still frisk on with feats so lewdly low
914'Tis strange Benvolio [28] suffers such a show
915Suppressing peer! to whom each vice gives place
916Oaths, boxing, begging all, save rout and race.
917
918Farce followed Comedy, and reached her prime
919In ever-laughing Foote's fantastic time
920Mad wag! who pardoned none, nor spared the best
921And turned some very serious things to jest
922Nor Church nor State escaped his public sneers
923Arms nor the Gown Priests Lawyers Volunteers
924"Alas, poor Yorick!" now for ever mute!
925Whoever loves a laugh must sigh for Foote.
926
927We smile, perforce, when histrionic scenes
928Ape the swoln dialogue of Kings and Queens
929When "Crononhotonthologos must die,"
930And Arthur struts in mimic majesty.
931Moschus! with whom once more I hope to sit
932And smile at folly, if we can't at wit
933Yes, Friend! for thee I'll quit my cynic cell
934And bear Swift's motto, "Vive la bagatelle!"
935Which charmed our days in each Ægean clime
936As oft at home, with revelry and rhyme.
937Then may Euphrosyne, who sped the past
938Soothe thy Life's scenes, nor leave thee in the last
939But find in thine like pagan Plato's bed
940Some merry Manuscript of Mimes, when dead.
941
942Now to the Drama let us bend our eyes
943Where fettered by whig Walpole low she lies
944Corruption foiled her, for she feared her glance
945Decorum left her for an Opera dance!
946Yet Chesterfield, whose polished pen inveighs
947'Gainst laughter, fought for freedom to our Plays
948Unchecked by Megrims of patrician brains
949And damning Dulness of Lord Chamberlains.
950Repeal that act! again let Humour roam
951Wild o'er the stage we've time for tears at home
952Let Archer plant the horns on Sullen's brows
953And Estifania gull her "Copper" pouse
954The moral's scant but that may be excused
955Men go not to be lectured, but amused.
956He whom our plays dispose to Good or Ill
957Must wear a head in want of Willis' skill
958Aye, but Macheath's example sha! no more!
959It formed no thieves the thief was formed before
960And spite of puritans and Collier's curse
961Plays make mankind no better, and no worse.
962Then spare our stage, ye methodistic men!
963Nor burn damned Drury if it rise again.
964But why to brain-scorched bigots thus appeal?
965Can heavenly Mercy dwell with earthly Zeal?
966For times of fire and faggot let them hope!
967Times dear alike to puritan or Pope.
968As pious Calvin saw Servetus blaze
969So would new sects on newer victims gaze.
970E'en now the songs of Solyma begin
971Faith cants, perplexed apologist of Sin!
972While the Lord's servant chastens whom he loves
973And Simeon kicks, where Baxter only "shoves."
974
975Whom Nature guides, so writes, that every dunce
976Enraptured, thinks to do the same at once
977But after inky thumbs and bitten nails
978And twenty scattered quires, the coxcomb fails.
979
980Let Pastoral be dumb for who can hope
981To match the youthful eclogues of our Pope?
982Yet his and Philips' faults, of different kind
983For Art too rude, for Nature too refined
984Instruct how hard the medium 'tis to hit
985'Twixt too much polish and too coarse a wit.
986
987A vulgar scribbler, certes, stands disgraced
988In this nice age, when all aspire to taste
989The dirty language, and the noisome jest
990Which pleased in Swift of yore, we now detest
991Proscribed not only in the world polite
992But even too nasty for a City Knight!
993
994Peace to Swift's faults! his wit hath made them pass
995Unmatched by all, save matchless Hudibras!
996Whose author is perhaps the first we meet
997Who from our couplet lopped two final feet
998Nor less in merit than the longer line
999This measure moves a favourite of the Nine.
1000Though at first view eight feet may seem in vain
1001Formed, save in Ode, to bear a serious strain
1002Yet Scott has shown our wondering isle of late
1003This measure shrinks not from a theme of weight
1004And, varied skilfully, surpasses far
1005Heroic rhyme, but most in Love and War
1006Whose fluctuations, tender or sublime
1007Are curbed too much by long-recurring rhyme.
1008
1009But many a skillful judge abhors to see
1010What few admire irregularity.
1011This some vouchsafe to pardon but 'tis hard
1012When such a word contents a British Bard.
1013
1014And must the Bard his glowing thoughts confine
1015Lest Censure hover o'er some faulty line?
1016Remove whatever a critic may suspect
1017To gain the paltry suffrage of "Correct"?
1018Or prune the spirit of each daring phrase
1019To fly from Error, not to merit Praise?
1020
1021Ye, who seek finished models, never cease
1022By day and night, to read the works of Greece.
1023But our good Fathers never bent their brains
1024To heathen Greek, content with native strains.
1025The few who read a page, or used a pen
1026Were satisfied with Chaucer and old Ben
1027The jokes and numbers suited to their taste
1028Were quaint and careless, anything but chaste
1029Yet, whether right or wrong the ancient rules
1030It will not do to call our Fathers fools!
1031
1032Though you and I, who eruditely know
1033To separate the elegant and low
1034Can also, when a hobbling line appears
1035Detect with fingers in default of ears.
1036In sooth I do not know, or greatly care
1037To learn, who our first English strollers were
1038Or if, till roofs received the vagrant art
1039Our Muse, like that of Thespis, kept a cart
1040But this is certain, since our Shakespeare's days
1041There's pomp enough if little else in plays
1042Nor will Melpomene ascend her Throne
1043Without high heels, white plume, and Bristol stone.
1044
1045Old Comedies still meet with much applause
1046Though too licentious for dramatic laws
1047At least, we moderns, wisely, 'tis confest
1048Curtail, or silence, the lascivious jest.
1049
1050Whate'er their follies, and their faults beside
1051Our enterprising Bards pass nought untried
1052Nor do they merit slight applause who choose
1053An English subject for an English Muse
1054And leave to minds which never dare invent
1055French flippancy and German sentiment.
1056Where is that living language which could claim
1057Poetic more, as philosophic, fame
1058If all our Bards, more patient of delay
1059Would stop, like Pope, to polish by the way?
1060
1061Lords of the quill, whose critical assaults
1062Overthrow whole quartos with their quires of faults
1063Who soon detect, and mark where'er we fail
1064And prove our marble with too nice a nail!
1065Democritus himself was not so bad
1066He only 'thought' but 'you' would make us mad!
1067
1068But truth to say, most rhymers rarely guard
1069Against that ridicule they deem so hard
1070In person negligent, they wear, from sloth
1071Beards of a week, and nails of annual growth
1072Reside in garrets, fly from those they meet
1073And walk in alleys rather than the street.
1074
1075With little rhyme, less reason, if you please
1076The name of Poet may be got with ease
1077So that not tuns of helleboric juice
1078Shall ever turn your head to any use
1079Write but like Wordsworth live beside a lake
1080And keep your bushy locks a year from Blake
1081Then print your book, once more return to town
1082And boys shall hunt your Bardship up and down.
1083Am I not wise, if such some poets' plight
1084To purge in spring like Bayes before I write?
1085If this precaution softened not my bile
1086I know no scribbler with a madder style
1087But since perhaps my feelings are too nice
1088I cannot purchase Fame at such a price
1089I'll labour gratis as a grinders' wheel
1090And, blunt myself, give edge to other's steel
1091Nor write at all, unless to teach the art
1092To those rehearsing for the Poet's part
1093From Horace show the pleasing paths of song
1094And from my own example what is wrong.
1095
1096Though modern practice sometimes differs quite
1097'Tis just as well to think before you write
1098Let every book that suits your theme be read
1099So shall you trace it to the fountain head.
1100
1101He who has learned the duty which he owes
1102To friends and country, and to pardon foes
1103Who models his deportment as may best
1104Accord with Brother, Sire, or Stranger guest
1105Who takes our Laws and Worship as they are
1106Nor roars reform for Senate, Church, and Bar
1107In practice, rather than loud precept, wise
1108Bids not his tongue, but heart, philosophize
1109Such is the man the Poet should rehearse
1110As joint exemplar of his life and verse.
1111
1112Sometimes a sprightly wit, and tale well told
1113Without much grace, or weight, or art, will hold
1114A longer empire o'er the public mind
1115Than sounding trifles, empty, though refined.
1116
1117Unhappy Greece! thy sons of ancient days
1118The Muse may celebrate with perfect praise
1119Whose generous children narrowed not their hearts
1120With Commerce, given alone to Arms and Arts.
1121Our boys save those whom public schools compel
1122To "Long and Short" before they're taught to spell
1123From frugal fathers soon imbibe by rote
1124"A penny saved, my lad, 's a penny got."
1125Babe of a city birth! from sixpence take
1126The third, how much will the remainder make?
1127"A groat. Ah, bravo! Dick hath done the sum!
1128He'll swell my fifty thousand to a Plum."
1129
1130They whose young souls receive this rust betimes
1131'Tis clear, are fit for anything but rhymes
1132And Locke will tell you, that the father's right
1133Who hides all verses from his children's sight
1134For Poets says this Sage, and many more
1135Make sad mechanics with their lyric lore
1136And Delphi now, however rich of old
1137Discovers little silver, and less gold
1138Because Parnassus, though a Mount divine
1139Is poor as Irus, or an Irish mine.
1140
1141Two objects always should the Poet move
1142Or one or both, to please or to improve.
1143Whate'er you teach, be brief, if you design
1144For our remembrance your didactic line
1145Redundance places Memory on the rack
1146For brains may be o'erloaded, like the back.
1147
1148Fiction does best when taught to look like Truth
1149And fairy fables bubble none but youth
1150Expect no credit for too wondrous tales
1151Since Jonas only springs alive from Whales!
1152
1153Young men with aught but Elegance dispense
1154Maturer years require a little Sense.
1155To end at once that Bard for all is fit
1156Who mingles well instruction with his wit
1157For him Reviews shall smile for him overflow
1158The patronage of Paternoster-row
1159His book, with Longman's liberal aid, shall pass
1160Who ne'er despises books that bring him brass
1161Through three long weeks the taste of London lead
1162And cross St. George's Channel and the Tweed.
1163
1164But every thing has faults, nor is't unknown
1165That harps and fiddles often lose their tone
1166And wayward voices, at their owner's call
1167With all his best endeavours, only squall
1168Dogs blink their covey, flints withhold the spark
1169And double-barrels damn them! miss their mark.
1170
1171Where frequent beauties strike the reader's view
1172We must not quarrel for a blot or two
1173But pardon equally to books or men
1174The slips of Human Nature, and the Pen.
1175Yet if an author, spite of foe or friend
1176Despises all advice too much to mend
1177But ever twangs the same discordant string
1178Give him no quarter, howsoever he sing.
1179Let Havard's fate overtake him, who, for once
1180Produced a play too dashing for a dunce
1181At first none deemed it his but when his name
1182Announced the fact what then? it lost its fame.
1183Though all deplore when Milton deigns to doze
1184In a long work 'tis fair to steal repose.
1185
1186As Pictures, so shall Poems be some stand
1187The critic eye, and please when near at hand
1188But others at a distance strike the sight
1189This seeks the shade, but that demands the light
1190Nor dreads the connoisseur's fastidious view
1191But, ten times scrutinised, is ten times new.
1192
1193Parnassian pilgrims! ye whom chance, or choice
1194Hath led to listen to the Muse's voice
1195Receive this counsel, and be timely wise
1196Few reach the Summit which before you lies.
1197Our Church and State, our Courts and Camps, concede
1198Reward to very moderate heads indeed!
1199In these plain common sense will travel far
1200All are not Erskines who mislead the Bar
1201But Poesy between the best and worst
1202No medium knows you must be last or first
1203For middling Poets' miserable volumes
1204Are damned alike by Gods, and Men, and Columns.
1205Again, my Jeffrey as that sound inspires
1206How wakes my bosom to its wonted fires!
1207
1208Fires, such as gentle Caledonians feel
1209When Southrons writhe upon their critic wheel
1210Or mild Eclectics, when some, worse than Turks
1211Would rob poor Faith to decorate "Good Works."
1212Such are the genial feelings them canst claim
1213My Falcon flies not at ignoble game.
1214Mightiest of all Dunedin's beasts of chase!
1215For thee my Pegasus would mend his pace.
1216Arise, my Jeffrey! or my inkless pen
1217Shall never blunt its edge on meaner men
1218Till thee or thine mine evil eye discerns
1219"Alas! I cannot strike at wretched kernes."
1220Inhuman Saxon! wilt thou then resign
1221A Muse and heart by choice so wholly thine?
1222Dear d--d contemner of my schoolboy songs
1223Hast thou no vengeance for my Manhood's wrongs?
1224If unprovoked thou once could bid me bleed
1225Hast thou no weapon for my daring deed?
1226What! not a word! and am I then so low?
1227Wilt thou forbear, who never spared a foe?
1228Hast thou no wrath, or wish to give it vent?
1229No wit for Nobles, Dunces by descent?
1230No jest on "minors," quibbles on a name
1231Nor one facetious paragraph of blame?
1232Is it for this on Ilion I have stood
1233And thought of Homer less than Holyrood?
1234On shore of Euxine or Ægean sea
1235My hate, untravelled, fondly turned to thee.
1236Ah! let me cease! in vain my bosom burns
1237From Corydon unkind Alexis turns
1238Thy rhymes are vain thy Jeffrey then forego
1239Nor woo that anger which he will not show.
1240What then? Edina starves some lanker son
1241To write an article thou canst not shun
1242Some less fastidious Scotchman shall be found
1243As bold in Billingsgate, though less renowned.
1244
1245As if at table some discordant dish
1246Should shock our optics, such as frogs for fish
1247As oil in lieu of butter men decry
1248And poppies please not in a modern pie
1249If all such mixtures then be half a crime
1250We must have Excellence to relish rhyme.
1251Mere roast and boiled no Epicure invites
1252Thus Poetry disgusts, or else delights.
1253
1254Who shoot not flying rarely touch a gun
1255Will he who swims not to the river run?
1256And men unpractised in exchanging knocks
1257Must go to Jackson ere they dare to box.
1258Whate'er the weapon, cudgel, fist, or foil
1259None reach expertness without years of toil
1260But fifty dunces can, with perfect ease
1261Tag twenty thousand couplets, when they please.
1262Why not? shall I, thus qualified to sit
1263For rotten boroughs, never show my wit?
1264Shall I, whose fathers with the "Quorum" sate
1265And lived in freedom on a fair estate
1266Who left me heir, with stables, kennels, packs
1267To 'all' their income, and to 'twice' its tax
1268Whose form and pedigree have scarce a fault
1269Shall I, I say, suppress my Attic Salt?
1270
1271Thus think "the Mob of Gentlemen" but you
1272Besides all this, must have some Genius too.
1273Be this your sober judgment, and a rule
1274And print not piping hot from Southey's school
1275Who ere another Thalaba appears
1276I trust, will spare us for at least nine years.
1277And hark'ye, Southey!pray but don't be vexed
1278Burn all your last three works and half the next.
1279But why this vain advice? once published, books
1280Can never be recalled from pastry-cooks!
1281Though "Madoc," with "Pucelle," instead of Punk
1282May travel back to Quito on a trunk!
1283
1284Orpheus, we learn from Ovid and Lempriere
1285Led all wild beasts but Women by the ear
1286And had he fiddled at the present hour
1287We'd seen the Lions waltzing in the Tower
1288And old Amphion, such were minstrels then
1289Had built St. Paul's without the aid of Wren.
1290Verse too was Justice, and the Bards of Greece
1291Did more than constables to keep the peace
1292Abolished cuckoldom with much applause
1293Called county meetings, and enforced the laws
1294Cut down crown influence with reforming scythes
1295And served the Church without demanding tithes
1296
1297And hence, throughout all Hellas and the East
1298Each Poet was a Prophet and a Priest
1299Whose old-established Board of Joint Controls
1300Included kingdoms in the cure of souls.
1301Next rose the martial Homer, Epic's prince
1302And Fighting's been in fashion ever since
1303And old Tyrtæus, when the Spartans warred
1304A limping leader, but a lofty bard
1305Though walled Ithome had resisted long
1306Reduced the fortress by the force of song.
1307
1308When Oracles prevailed, in times of old
1309In song alone Apollo's will was told.
1310Then if your verse is what all verse should be
1311And Gods were not ashamed on't, why should we?
1312
1313The Muse, like mortal females, may be wooed
1314In turns she'll seem a Paphian, or a prude
1315Fierce as a bride when first she feels affright
1316Mild as the same upon the second night
1317Wild as the wife of Alderman or Peer
1318Now for His Grace, and now a grenadier!
1319Her eyes beseem, her heart belies, her zone
1320Ice in a crowd and Lava when alone.
1321
1322If Verse be studied with some show of Art.
1323Kind Nature always will perform her part
1324Though without Genius, and a native vein
1325Of wit, we loathe an artificial strain
1326Yet Art and Nature joined will win the prize
1327Unless they act like us and our allies.
1328
1329The youth who trains to ride, or run a race
1330Must bear privations with unruffled face
1331Be called to labour when he thinks to dine
1332And, harder still, leave wenching and his wine.
1333Ladies who sing, at least who sing at sight
1334Have followed Music through her farthest flight
1335But rhymers tell you neither more nor less
1336"I've got a pretty poem for the Press"
1337And that's enough then write and print so fast
1338If Satan take the hindmost, who'd be last?
1339They storm the Types, they publish, one and all
1340They leap the counter, and they leave the stall.
1341Provincial Maidens, men of high command
1342Yea! Baronets have inked the bloody hand!
1343Cash cannot quell them Pollio played this prank
1344Then Phoebus first found credit in a Bank!
1345Not all the living only, but the dead
1346Fool on, as fluent as an Orpheus' Head
1347Damned all their days, they posthumously thrive
1348Dug up from dust, though buried when alive!
1349Reviews record this epidemic crime
1350Those Books of Martyrs to the rage for rhyme.
1351Alas! woe worth the scribbler! often seen
1352In Morning Post, or Monthly Magazine.
1353There lurk his earlier lays but soon, hot pressed
1354Behold a Quarto! Tarts must tell the rest.
1355Then leave, ye wise, the Lyre's precarious chords
1356To muse-mad baronets, or madder lords
1357Or country Crispins, now grown somewhat stale
1358Twin Doric minstrels, drunk with Doric ale!
1359Hark to those notes, narcotically soft!
1360The Cobbler-Laureats sing to Capel Lofft!
1361Till, lo! that modern Midas, as he hears
1362Adds an ell growth to his egregious ears!
1363There lives one Druid, who prepares in time
1364'Gainst future feuds his poor revenge of rhyme
1365Racks his dull Memory, and his duller Muse
1366To publish faults which Friendship should excuse.
1367If Friendship's nothing, Self-regard might teach
1368More polished usage of his parts of speech.
1369But what is shame, or what is aught to him?
1370He vents his spleen, or gratifies his whim.
1371Some fancied slight has roused his lurking hate
1372Some folly crossed, some jest, or some debate
1373Up to his den Sir Scribbler hies, and soon
1374The gathered gall is voided in Lampoon.
1375Perhaps at some pert speech you've dared to frown
1376Perhaps your Poem may have pleased the Town
1377If so, alas! 'tis nature in the man
1378May Heaven forgive you, for he never can!
1379Then be it so and may his withering Bays
1380Bloom fresh in satire, though they fade in praise
1381While his lost songs no more shall steep and stink
1382The dullest, fattest weeds on Lethe's brink
1383But springing upwards from the sluggish mould
1384Be what they never were before be sold!
1385Should some rich Bard but such a monster now
1386In modern Physics, we can scarce allow
1387Should some pretending scribbler of the Court
1388Some rhyming Peer there's plenty of the sort
1389All but one poor dependent priest withdrawn
1390Ah! too regardless of his Chaplain's yawn!
1391Condemn the unlucky Curate to recite
1392Their last dramatic work by candle-light
1393How would the preacher turn each rueful leaf
1394Dull as his sermons, but not half so brief!
1395Yet, since 'tis promised at the Rector's death
1396He'll risk no living for a little breath.
1397Then spouts and foams, and cries at every line
1398The Lord forgive him! "Bravo! Grand! Divine!"
1399Hoarse with those praises which, by Flattery fed
1400Dependence barters for her bitter bread
1401He strides and stamps along with creaking boot
1402Till the floor echoes his emphatic foot
1403Then sits again, then rolls his pious eye
1404As when the dying vicar will not die!
1405Nor feels, forsooth, emotion at his heart
1406But all Dissemblers overact their part.
1407
1408Ye, who aspire to "build the lofty rhyme,"
1409Believe not all who laud your false "sublime"
1410But if some friend shall hear your work, and say
1411"Expunge that stanza, lop that line away,"
1412And, after fruitless efforts, you return
1413Without amendment, and he answers, "Burn!"
1414That instant throw your paper in the fire
1415Ask not his thoughts, or follow his desire
1416But if true Bard! you scorn to condescend
1417And will not alter what you can't defend
1418If you will breed this Bastard of your Brains
1419We'll have no wordscI've only lost my pains.
1420Yet, if you only prize your favourite thought
1421As critics kindly do, and authors ought
1422If your cool friend annoy you now and then
1423And cross whole pages with his plaguy pen
1424No matter, throw your ornaments aside
1425Better let him than all the world deride.
1426Give light to passages too much in shade
1427Nor let a doubt obscure one verse you've made
1428Your friend's a "Johnson," not to leave one word
1429However trifling, which may seem absurd
1430Such erring trifles lead to serious ills
1431And furnish food for critics, or their quills.
1432
1433As the Scotch fiddle, with its touching tune
1434Or the sad influence of the angry Moon
1435All men avoid bad writers' ready tongues
1436As yawning waiters fly Fitzscribble's lungs
1437Yet on he mouths ten minutes tedious each
1438As Prelate's homily, or placeman's speech
1439Long as the last years of a lingering lease
1440When Riot pauses until Rents increase.
1441While such a minstrel, muttering fustian, strays
1442O'er hedge and ditch, through unfrequented ways
1443If by some chance he walks into a well
1444And shouts for succour with stentorian yell
1445"A rope! help, Christians, as ye hope for grace!"
1446Nor woman, man, nor child will stir a pace
1447For there his carcass he might freely fling
1448From frenzy, or the humour of the thing.
1449Though this has happened to more Bards than one
1450I'll tell you Budgell's story, and have done.
1451
1452Budgell, a rogue and rhymester, for no good
1453Unless his case be much misunderstood
1454When teased with creditors' continual claims
1455"To die like Cato," leapt into the Thames!
1456And therefore be it lawful through the town
1457For any Bard to poison, hang, or drown.
1458Who saves the intended Suicide receives
1459Small thanks from him who loathes the life he leaves
1460And, sooth to say, mad poets must not lose
1461The Glory of that death they freely choose.
1462
1463Nor is it certain that some sorts of verse
1464Prick not the Poet's conscience as a curse
1465Dosed with vile drams on Sunday he was found
1466Or got a child on consecrated ground!
1467And hence is haunted with a rhyming rage
1468Feared like a bear just bursting from his cage.
1469If free, all fly his versifying fit
1470Fatal at once to Simpleton or Wit
1471But 'him', unhappy! whom he seizes,'him'
1472He flays with Recitation limb by limb
1473Probes to the quick where'er he makes his breach
1474And gorges like a Lawyer or a Leech.
1475
1476Parent of golden dreams, Romance!
1477Auspicious Queen of childish joys
1478Who lead'st along, in airy dance
1479Thy votive train of girls and boys
1480At length, in spells no longer bound
1481I break the fetters of my youth
1482No more I tread thy mystic round
1483But leave thy realms for those of Truth.
1484
1485And yet 'tis hard to quit the dreams
1486Which haunt the unsuspicious soul
1487Where every nymph a goddess seems
1488Whose eyes through rays immortal roll
1489While Fancy holds her boundless reign
1490And all assume a varied hue
1491When Virgins seem no longer vain
1492And even Woman's smiles are true.
1493
1494And must we own thee, but a name
1495And from thy hall of clouds descend?
1496Nor find a Sylph in every dame
1497A Pylades in every friend?
1498But leave, at once, thy realms of air
1499To mingling bands of fairy elves
1500Confess that woman's false as fair
1501And friends have feeling for themselves?
1502
1503With shame, I own, I've felt thy sway
1504Repentant, now thy reign is o'er
1505No more thy precepts I obey
1506No more on fancied pinions soar
1507Fond fool! to love a sparkling eye
1508And think that eye to truth was dear
1509To trust a passing wanton's sigh
1510And melt beneath a wanton's tear!
1511
1512Romance! disgusted with deceit
1513Far from thy motley court I fly
1514Where Affectation holds her seat
1515And sickly Sensibility
1516Whose silly tears can never flow
1517For any pangs excepting thine
1518Who turns aside from real woe
1519To steep in dew thy gaudy shrine.
1520
1521Now join with sable Sympathy
1522With cypress crown'd, array'd in weeds
1523Who heaves with thee her simple sigh
1524Whose breast for every bosom bleeds
1525And call thy sylvan female choir
1526To mourn a Swain for ever gone
1527Who once could glow with equal fire
1528But bends not now before thy throne.
1529
1530Ye genial Nymphs, whose ready tears
1531On all occasions swiftly flow
1532Whose bosoms heave with fancied fears
1533With fancied flames and frenzy glow
1534Say, will you mourn my absent name
1535Apostate from your gentle train?
1536An infant Bard, at least, may claim
1537From you a sympathetic strain.
1538
1539Adieu, fond race! a long adieu!
1540The hour of fate is hovering nigh
1541E'en now the gulf appears in view
1542Where unlamented you must lie
1543Oblivion's blackening lake is seen
1544Convulsed by gales you cannot weather
1545Where you, and eke your gentle queen
1546Alas! must perish altogether.
1547
1548Oh! might I kiss those eyes of fire
1549A million scarce would quench desire
1550Still would I steep my lips in bliss
1551And dwell an age on every kiss
1552Nor then my soul should sated be
1553Still would I kiss and cling to thee
1554Nought should my kiss from thine dissever
1555Still would we kiss and kiss for ever
1556E'en though the numbers did exceed
1557The yellow harvest's countless seed
1558To part would be a vain endeavor
1559Could I desist? ah! never never.
1560
1561Oh! did those eyes, instead of fire
1562With bright, but mild affection shine
1563Though they might kindle less desire
1564Love, more than mortal, would be thine.
1565For thou art form'd so heavenly fair
1566Howe'er those orbs may wildly beam
1567We must admire, but still despair
1568That fatal glance forbids esteem.
1569
1570When Nature stamp'd thy beauteous birth
1571So much perfection in thee shone
1572She fear'd that, too divine for earth
1573The skies might claim thee for their own.
1574
1575Therefore, to guard her dearest work
1576Lest angels might dispute the prize
1577She bade a secret lightning lurk
1578Within those once celestial eyes.
1579
1580These might the boldest Sylph appall
1581When gleaming with meridian blaze
1582Thy beauty must enrapture all
1583But who can dare thine ardent gaze?
1584
1585'Tis said that Berenice's hair
1586In stars adorns the vault of heaven
1587But they would ne'er permit thee there
1588Thou wouldst so far outshine the seven.
1589
1590For did those eyes as planets roll
1591Thy sister-lights would scarce appear
1592E'en suns, which systems now control
1593Would twinkle dimly through their sphere.
1594
1595When we two parted
1596In silence and tears
1597Half broken-hearted
1598To sever for years
1599Pale grew thy cheek and cold
1600Colder thy kiss
1601Truly that hour foretold
1602Sorrow to this.
1603
1604The dew of the morning
1605Sunk chill on my brow
1606It felt like the warning
1607Of what I feel now.
1608Thy vows are all broken
1609And light is thy fame
1610I hear thy name spoken
1611And share in its shame.
1612
1613They name thee before me
1614A knell to mine ear
1615A shudder comes o’er me
1616Why wert thou so dear?
1617They know not I knew thee
1618Who knew thee too well
1619Long, long shall I rue thee
1620Too deeply to tell.
1621
1622In secret we met
1623In silence I grieve
1624That thy heart could forget
1625Thy spirit deceive.
1626If I should meet thee
1627After long years
1628How should I greet thee?
1629With silence and tears.
1630
1631I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
1632The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars
1633Did wander darkling in the eternal space
1634Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
1635Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air
1636Morn came and went—and came, and brought no day
1637And men forgot their passions in the dread
1638Of this their desolation and all hearts
1639Were chill'd into a selfish prayer for light
1640And they did live by watchfires—and the thrones
1641The palaces of crowned kings—the huts
1642The habitations of all things which dwell
1643Were burnt for beacons cities were consumed
1644And men were gather'd round their blazing homes
1645To look once more into each other's face
1646Happy were those who dwelt within the eye
1647Of the volcanos, and their mountain-torch
1648A fearful hope was all the world contain'd
1649Forests were set on fire—but hour by hour
1650They fell and faded—and the crackling trunks
1651Extinguish'd with a crash—and all was black.
1652The brows of men by the despairing light
1653Wore an unearthly aspect, as by fits
1654The flashes fell upon them some lay down
1655And hid their eyes and wept and some did rest
1656Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smiled
1657And others hurried to and fro, and fed
1658Their funeral piles with fuel, and look'd up
1659With mad disquietude on the dull sky
1660The pall of a past world and then again
1661With curses cast them down upon the dust
1662And gnash'd their teeth and howl'd the wild birds shriek'd
1663And, terrified, did flutter on the ground
1664And flap their useless wings the wildest brutes
1665Came tame and tremulous and vipers crawl'd
1666And twin'd themselves among the multitude
1667Hissing, but stingless—they were slain for food.
1668And War, which for a moment was no more
1669Did glut himself again a meal was bought
1670With blood, and each sate sullenly apart
1671Gorging himself in gloom no love was left
1672All earth was but one thought—and that was death
1673Immediate and inglorious and the pang
1674Of famine fed upon all entrails—men
1675Died, and their bones were tombless as their flesh
1676The meagre by the meagre were devour'd
1677Even dogs assail'd their masters, all save one
1678And he was faithful to a corse, and kept
1679The birds and beasts and famish'd men at bay
1680Till hunger clung them, or the dropping dead
1681Lured their lank jaws himself sought out no food
1682But with a piteous and perpetual moan
1683And a quick desolate cry, licking the hand
1684Which answer'd not with a caress—he died.
1685The crowd was famish'd by degrees but two
1686Of an enormous city did survive
1687And they were enemies they met beside
1688The dying embers of an altar-place
1689Where had been heap'd a mass of holy things
1690For an unholy usage they raked up
1691And shivering scrap'd with their cold skeleton hands
1692The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath
1693Blew for a little life, and made a flame
1694Which was a mockery then they lifted up
1695Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld
1696Each other's aspects—saw, and shriek'd, and died
1697Even of their mutual hideousness they died
1698Unknowing who he was upon whose brow
1699Famine had written Fiend. The world was void
1700The populous and the powerful was a lump
1701Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless
1702A lump of death—a chaos of hard clay.
1703The rivers, lakes and ocean all stood still
1704And nothing stirr'd within their silent depths
1705Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea
1706And their masts fell down piecemeal as they dropp'd
1707They slept on the abyss without a surge—
1708The waves were dead the tides were in their grave
1709The moon, their mistress, had expir'd before
1710The winds were wither'd in the stagnant air
1711And the clouds perish'd Darkness had no need
1712Of aid from them—She was the Universe.
1713
1714The Serfs are glad through Lara's wide domain
1715And slavery half forgets her feudal chain
1716He, their unhoped, but unforgotten lord —
1717The long self-exiled chieftain is restored
1718There be bright faces in the busy hall
1719Bowls on the board, and banners on the wall
1720Far chequering o'er the pictured window, plays
1721The unwonted fagots' hospitable blaze
1722And gay retainers gather round the hearth
1723With tongues all loudness, and with eyes all mirth.
1724
1725The chief of Lara is return'd again
1726And why had Lara cross'd the bounding main?
1727Left by his sire, too young such loss to know
1728Lord of himself — that heritage of woe
1729That fearful empire which the human breast
1730But holds to rob the heart within of rest!
1731With none to check, and few to point in time
1732The thousand paths that slope the way to crime
1733Then, when he most required commandment, then
1734Had Lara's daring boyhood govern'd men.
1735It skills not, boots not, step by step to trace
1736His youth through all the mazes of its race
1737Short was the course his restlessness had run
1738But long enough to leave him half undone.
1739
1740And Lara left in youth his fatherland
1741But from the hour he waved his parting hand
1742Each trace wax'd fainter of his course, till all
1743Had nearly ceased his memory to recall.
1744His sire was dust, his vassals could declare
1745'Twas all they knew, that Lara was not there
1746Nor sent, nor came he, till conjecture grew
1747Cold in the many, anxious in the few.
1748His hall scarce echoes with his wonted name
1749His portrait darkens in its fading frame
1750Another chief consoled his destined bride
1751The young forgot him, and the old had died
1752"Yet doth he live!" exclaims the impatient heir
1753And sighs for sables which he must not wear.
1754A hundred scutcheons deck with gloomy grace
1755The Laras' last and longest dwelling-place
1756But one is absent from the mouldering file
1757That now were welcome to that Gothic pile.
1758
1759He comes at last in sudden loneliness
1760And whence they know not, why they need not guess
1761They more might marvel, when the greeting's o'er
1762Not that he came, but came not long before
1763No train is his beyond a single page
1764Of foreign aspect, and of tender age.
1765Years had roll'd on, and fast they speed away
1766To those that wander as to those that stay
1767But lack of tidings from another clime
1768Had lent a flagging wing to weary Time.
1769They see, they recognise, yet almost deem
1770The present dubious, or the past a dream.
1771
1772He lives, nor yet is past his manhood's prime
1773Though sear'd by toil, and something touch'd by time
1774His faults, whate'er they were, if scarce forgot
1775Might be untaught him by his varied lot
1776Nor good nor ill of late were known, his name
1777Might yet uphold his patrimonial fame.
1778His soul in youth was haughty, but his sins
1779No more than pleasure from the stripling wins
1780And such, if not yet harden'd in their course
1781Might be redeem'd, nor ask a long remorse.
1782
1783And they indeed were changed — 'tis quickly seen
1784Whate'er he be, 'twas not what he had been
1785That brow in furrow'd lines had fix'd at last
1786And spake of passions, but of passion past
1787The pride, but not the fire, of early days
1788Coldness of mien, and carelessness of praise
1789A high demeanour, and a glance that took
1790Their thoughts from others by a single look
1791And that sarcastic levity of tongue
1792The stinging of a heart the world hath stung
1793That darts in seeming playfulness around
1794And makes those feel that will not own the wound
1795All these seem'd his, and something more beneath
1796Than glance could well reveal, or accent breathe.
1797Ambition, glory, love, the common aim
1798That some can conquer, and that all would claim
1799Within his breast appear'd no more to strive
1800Yet seem'd as lately they had been alive
1801And some deep feeling it were vain to trace
1802At moments lighten'd o'er his livid face.
1803
1804Not much he loved long question of the past
1805Nor told of wondrous wilds, and deserts vast
1806In those far lands where he had wander'd lone
1807And — as himself would have it seem — unknown
1808Yet these in vain his eye could scarcely scan
1809Nor glean experience from his fellow-man
1810But what he had beheld he shunn'd to show
1811As hardly worth a stranger's care to know
1812If still more prying such inquiry grew
1813His brow fell darker, and his words more few.
1814
1815Not unrejoiced to see him once again
1816Warm was his welcome to the haunts of men
1817Born of high lineage, link'd in high command
1818He mingled with the magnates of his land
1819Join'd the carousals of the great and gay
1820And saw them smile or sigh their hours away
1821But still he only saw, and did not share
1822The common pleasure or the general care
1823He did not follow what they all pursued
1824With hope still baffled, still to be renew'd
1825Nor shadowy honour, nor substantial gain
1826Nor beauty's preference, and the rival's pain
1827Around him some mysterious circle thrown
1828Repell'd approach, and showed him still alone
1829Upon his eye sate something of reproof
1830That kept at least frivolity aloof
1831And things more timid that beheld him near
1832In silence gazed, or whisper'd mutual fear
1833And they the wiser, friendlier few confess'd
1834They deem'd him better than his air express'd.
1835
1836'Twas strange — in youth all action and all life
1837Burning for pleasure, not averse from strife
1838Woman — the field — the ocean — all that gave
1839Promise of gladness, peril of a grave
1840In turn he tried — he ransack'd all below
1841And found his recompence in joy or woe
1842No tame, trite medium for his feelings sought
1843In that intenseness an escape from thought
1844The tempest of his heart in scorn had gazed
1845On that the feebler elements hath raised
1846The rapture of his heart had look'd on high
1847And ask'd if greater dwelt beyond the sky
1848Chain'd to excess, the slave of each extreme
1849How woke he from the wildness of that dream?
1850Alas! he told not — but he did awake
1851To curse the wither'd heart that would not break.
1852
1853Books, for his volume heretofore was Man
1854With eye more curious he appear'd to scan
1855And oft, in sudden mood, for many a day
1856From all communion he would start away
1857And then, his rarely call'd attendants said
1858Through night's long hours would sound his hurried tread
1859O'er the dark gallery, where his fathers frown'd
1860In rude but antique portraiture around.
1861They heard, but whisper'd — "that must not be known
1862The sound of words less earthly than his own.
1863Yes, they who chose might smile, but some had seen
1864They scarce knew what, but more than should have been.
1865Why gazed he so upon the ghastly head
1866Which hands profane had gather'd from the dead
1867That still beside his open'd volume lay
1868As if to startle all save him away?
1869Why slept he not when others were at rest?
1870Why heard no music, and received no guest?
1871All was not well, they deem'd — but where the wrong?
1872Some knew perchance — but 'twere a tale too long
1873And such besides were too discreetly wise
1874To more than hint their knowledge in surmise
1875But if they would — they could" — around the board
1876Thus Lara's vassals prattled of their lord.
1877
1878It was the night — and Lara's glassy stream
1879The stars are studding, each with imaged beam
1880So calm, the waters scarcely seem to stray
1881And yet they glide like happiness away
1882Reflecting far and fairy-like from high
1883The immortal lights that live along the sky
1884Its banks are fringed with many a goodly tree
1885And flowers the fairest that may feast the bee
1886Such in her chaplet infant Dian wove
1887And Innocence would offer to her love.
1888These deck the shore the waves their channel make
1889In windings bright and mazy like the snake.
1890All was so still, so soft in earth and air
1891You scarce would start to meet a spirit there
1892Secure that nought of evil could delight
1893To walk in such a scene, on such a night!
1894It was a moment only for the good
1895So Lara deem'd, nor longer there he stood
1896But turn'd in silence to his castle-gate
1897Such scene his soul no more could contemplate.
1898Such scene reminded him of other days
1899Of skies more cloudless, moons of purer blaze
1900Of nights more soft and frequent, hearts that now
1901No — no — the storm may beat upon his brow
1902Unfelt — unsparing — but a night like this
1903A night of beauty mock'd such breast as his.
1904
1905He turn'd within his solitary hall
1906And his high shadow shot along the wall
1907There were the painted forms of other times
1908'Twas all they left of virtues or of crimes
1909Save vague tradition and the gloomy vaults
1910That hid their dust, their foibles, and their faults
1911And half a column of the pompous page
1912That speeds the specious tale from age to age
1913When history's pen its praise or blame supplies
1914And lies like truth, and still most truly lies.
1915He wandering mused, and as the moonbeam shone
1916Through the dim lattice o'er the floor of stone
1917And the high fretted roof, and saints, that there
1918O'er Gothic windows knelt in pictured prayer
1919Reflected in fantastic figures grew
1920Like life, but not like mortal life, to view
1921His bristling locks of sable, brow of gloom
1922And the wide waving of his shaken plume
1923Glanced like a spectre's attributes, and gave
1924His aspect all that terror gives the grave.
1925
1926'Twas midnight — all was slumber the lone light
1927Dimm'd in the lamp, as loth to break the night.
1928Hark! there be murmurs heard in Lara's hall
1929A sound — voice — a shriek — a fearful call!
1930A long, loud shriek — and silence — did they hear
1931That frantic echo burst the sleeping ear?
1932They heard and rose, and tremulously brave
1933Rush where the sound invoked their aid to save
1934They come with half-lit tapers in their hands
1935And snatch'd in startled haste unbelted brands.
1936
1937Cold as the marble where his length was laid
1938Pale as the beam that o'er his features play'd
1939Was Lara stretch'd his half-drawn sabre near
1940Dropp'd it should seem in more than nature's fear
1941Yet he was firm, or had been firm till now
1942And still defiance knit his gather'd brow
1943Though mix'd with terror, senseless as he lay
1944There lived upon his lip the wish to slay
1945Some half-form'd threat in utterance there had died
1946Some imprecation of despairing pride
1947His eye was almost seal'd, but not forsook
1948Even in its trance the gladiator's look
1949That oft awake his aspect could disclose
1950And now was fix'd in horrible repose.
1951They raise him — bear him hush! he breathes, he speaks!
1952The swarthy blush recolours in his cheeks
1953His lip resumes its red, his eye, though dim
1954Rolls wide and wild, each slowly quivering limb
1955Recalls its function, but his words are strung
1956In terms that seem not of his native tongue
1957Distinct but strange, enough they understand
1958To deem them accents of another land
1959And such they were, and meant to meet an ear
1960That hears him not — alas! that cannot hear!
1961
1962His page approach'd, and he alone appear'd
1963To know the import of the words they heard
1964And by the changes of his cheek and brow
1965They were not such as Lara should avow
1966Nor he interpret, yet with less surprise
1967Than those around their chieftain's state he eyes
1968But Lara's prostrate form he bent beside
1969And in that tongue which seem'd his own replied
1970And Lara heeds those tones that gently seem
1971To soothe away the horrors of his dream
1972If dream it were, that thus could overthrow
1973A breast that needed not ideal woe.
1974
1975Whate'er his frenzy dream'd or eye beheld
1976If yet remember'd ne'er to be reveal'd
1977Rests at his heart the custom'd morning came
1978And breathed new vigour in his shaking frame
1979And solace sought he none from priest nor leech
1980And soon the same in movement and in speech
1981As heretofore he fill'd the passing hours
1982Nor less he smiles, nor more his forehead lours
1983Than these were wont and if the coming night
1984Appear'd less welcome now to Lara's sight
1985He to his marvelling vassals shew'd it not
1986Whose shuddering proved their fear was less forgot.
1987In trembling pairs alone they dared not crawl
1988The astonish'd slaves, and shun the fated hall
1989The waving banner, and the clapping door
1990The rustling tapestry, and the echoing floor
1991The long dim shadows of surrounding trees
1992The flapping bat, the night song of the breeze
1993Aught they behold or hear their thought appals
1994As evening saddens o'er the dark gray walls.
1995
1996Vain thought! that hour of ne'er unravell'd gloom
1997Came not again, or Lara could assume
1998A seeming of forgetfulness that made
1999His vassals more amazed nor less afraid
2000Had memory vanish'd then with sense restored?
2001Since word, nor look, nor gesture of their lord
2002Betray'd a feeling that recall'd to these
2003That fever'd moment of his mind's disease.
2004Was it a dream? was his the voice that spoke
2005Those strange wild accents his the cry that broke
2006Their slumber? his the oppress'd o'er-labour'd heart
2007That ceased to beat, the look that made them start?
2008Could he who thus had suffer'd, so forget
2009When such as saw that suffering shudder yet?
2010Or did that silence prove his memory fix'd
2011Too deep for words, indelible, unmix'd
2012In that corroding secresy which gnaws
2013The heart to shew the effect, but not the cause?
2014Not so in him his breast had buried both
2015Nor common gazers could discern the growth
2016Of thoughts that mortal lips must leave half told
2017They choke the feeble words that would unfold.
2018
2019In him inexplicably mix'd appear'd
2020Much to be loved and hated, sought and fear'd
2021Opinion varying o'er his hidden lot
2022In praise or railing ne'er his name forgot
2023His silence form'd a theme for others' prate
2024They guess'd — they gazed — they fain would know his fate.
2025What had he been? what was he, thus unknown
2026Who walk'd their world, his lineage only known?
2027A hater of his kind? yet some would say
2028With them he could seem gay amidst the gay
2029But own'd that smile, if oft observed and near
2030Waned in its mirth and wither'd to a sneer
2031That smile might reach his lip, but pass'd not by
2032None e'er could trace its laughter to his eye
2033Yet there was softness too in his regard
2034At times, a heart as not by nature hard
2035But once perceived, his spirit seem'd to chide
2036Such weakness, as unworthy of its pride
2037And steel'd itself, as scorning to redeem
2038One doubt from others' half withheld esteem
2039In self-inflicted penance of a breast
2040Which tenderness might once have wrung from rest
2041In vigilance of grief that would compel
2042The soul to hate for having loved too well.
2043
2044There was in him a vital scorn of all
2045As if the worst had fall'n which could befall
2046He stood a stranger in this breathing world
2047An erring spirit from another hurled
2048A thing of dark imaginings, that shaped
2049By choice the perils he by chance escaped
2050But 'scaped in vain, for in their memory yet
2051His mind would half exult and half regret
2052With more capacity for love than earth
2053Bestows on most of mortal mould and birth
2054His early dreams of good outstripp'd the truth
2055And troubled manhood follow'd baffled youth
2056With thought of years in phantom chase misspent
2057And wasted powers for better purpose lent
2058And fiery passions that had pour'd their wrath
2059In hurried desolation o'er his path
2060And left the better feelings all at strife
2061In wild reflection o'er his stormy life
2062But haughty still, and loth himself to blame
2063He call'd on Nature's self to share the shame
2064And charged all faults upon the fleshly form
2065She gave to clog the soul, and feast the worm
2066'Till he at last confounded good and ill
2067And half mistook for fate the acts of will
2068Too high for common selfishness, he could
2069At times resign his own for others' good
2070But not in pity, not because he ought
2071But in some strange perversity of thought
2072That sway'd him onward with a secret pride
2073To do what few or none would do beside
2074And this same impulse would, in tempting time
2075Mislead his spirit equally to crime
2076So much he soar'd beyond, or sunk beneath
2077The men with whom he felt condemn'd to breathe
2078And long'd by good or ill to separate
2079Himself from all who shared his mortal state
2080His mind abhorring this had fix'd her throne
2081Far from the world, in regions of her own
2082Thus coldly passing all that pass'd below
2083His blood in temperate seeming now would flow
2084Ah! happier if it ne'er with guilt had glow'd
2085But ever in that icy smoothness flow'd
2086'Tis true, with other men their path he walk'd
2087And like the rest in seeming did and talk'd
2088Nor outraged Reason's rules by flaw nor start
2089His madness was not of the head, but heart
2090And rarely wander'd in his speech, or drew
2091His thoughts so forth as to offend the view.
2092
2093With all that chilling mystery of mien
2094And seeming gladness to remain unseen
2095He had if 'twere not nature's boon an art
2096Of fixing memory on another's heart
2097It was not love, perchance — nor hate — nor aught
2098That words can image to express the thought
2099But they who saw him did not see in vain
2100And once beheld, would ask of him again
2101And those to whom he spake remember'd well
2102And on the words, however light, would dwell.
2103None knew nor how, nor why, but he entwined
2104Himself perforce around the hearer's mind
2105There he was stamp'd, in liking, or in hate
2106If greeted once however brief the date
2107That friendship, pity, or aversion knew
2108Still there within the inmost thought he grew.
2109You could not penetrate his soul, but found
2110Despite your wonder, to your own he wound.
2111His presence haunted still and from the breast
2112He forced an all-unwilling interest
2113Vain was the struggle in that mental net
2114His spirit seem'd to dare you to forget!
2115
2116There is a festival, where knights and dames
2117And aught that wealth or lofty lineage claims
2118Appear — a high-born and a welcomed guest
2119To Otho's hall came Lara with the rest.
2120The long carousal shakes the illumined hall
2121Well speeds alike the banquet and the ball
2122And the gay dance of bounding Beauty's train
2123Links grace and harmony in happiest chain
2124Blest are the early hearts and gentle hands
2125That mingle there in well according bands
2126It is a sight the careful brow might smooth
2127And make Age smile, and dream itself to youth
2128And Youth forget such hour was pass'd on earth
2129So springs the exulting bosom to that mirth!
2130
2131And Lara gazed on these sedately glad
2132His brow belied him if his soul was sad
2133And his glance follow'd fast each fluttering fair
2134Whose steps of lightness woke no echo there
2135He lean'd against the lofty pillar nigh
2136With folded arms and long attentive eye
2137Nor mark'd a glance so sternly fix'd on his
2138Ill brook'd high Lara scrutiny like this
2139At length he caught it, 'tis a face unknown
2140But seems as searching his, and his alone
2141Prying and dark, a stranger's by his mien
2142Who still till now had gazed on him unseen
2143At length encountering meets the mutual gaze
2144Of keen inquiry, and of mute amaze
2145On Lara's glance emotion gathering grew
2146As if distrusting that the stranger threw
2147Along the stranger's aspect fix'd and stern
2148Flash'd more than thence the vulgar eye could learn.
2149
2150"'Tis he!" the stranger cried, and those that heard
2151Re-echo'd fast and far the whisper'd word.
2152"'Tis he!" — "'Tis who?" they question far and near
2153Till louder accents rang on Lara's ear
2154So widely spread, few bosoms well could brook
2155The general marvel, or that single look
2156But Lara stirr'd not, changed not, the surprise
2157That sprung at first to his arrested eyes
2158Seem'd now subsided, neither sunk nor raised
2159Glanced his eye round, though still the stranger gazed
2160And drawing nigh, exclaim'd, with haughty sneer
2161"'Tis he! — how came he thence? — what doth he here?"
2162
2163It were too much for Lara to pass by
2164Such question, so repeated fierce and high
2165With look collected, but with accent cold
2166More mildly firm than petulantly bold
2167He turn'd, and met the inquisitorial tone
2168"My name is Lara! — when thine own is known
2169Doubt not my fitting answer to requite
2170The unlook'd for courtesy of such a knight.
2171'Tis Lara! — further wouldst thou mark or ask?
2172I shun no question, and I wear no mask."
2173"Thou shunn'st no question! Ponder — is there none
2174Thy heart must answer, though thine ear would shun?
2175And deem'st thou me unknown too? Gaze again!
2176At least thy memory was not given in vain.
2177Oh! never canst thou cancel half her debt
2178Eternity forbids thee to forget."
2179With slow and searching glance upon his face
2180Grew Lara's eyes, but nothing there could trace
2181They knew, or chose to know — with dubious look
2182He deign'd no answer, but his head he shook
2183And half contemptuous turn'd to pass away
2184But the stern stranger motion'd him to stay.
2185"A word! — I charge thee stay, and answer here
2186To one, who, wert thou noble, were thy peer
2187But as thou wast and art — nay, frown not, lord
2188If false, 'tis easy to disprove the word
2189But as thou wast and art, on thee looks down
2190Distrusts thy smiles, but shakes not at thy frown.
2191Art thou not he? whose deeds — "
2192
2193"Whate'er I be
2194Words wild as these, accusers like to thee
2195I list no further those with whom they weigh
2196May hear the rest, nor venture to gainsay
2197The wondrous tale no doubt thy tongue can tell
2198Which thus begins courteously and well.
2199Let Otho cherish here his polish'd guest
2200To him my thanks and thoughts shall be express'd."
2201And here their wondering host hath interposed
2202"Whate'er there be between you undisclosed
2203This is no time nor fitting place to mar
2204The mirthful meeting with a wordy war.
2205If thou, Sir Ezzelin, hast ought to show
2206Which it befits Count Lara's ear to know
2207To-morrow, here, or elsewhere, as may best
2208Beseem your mutual judgment, speak the rest
2209I pledge myself for thee, as not unknown
2210Though, like Count Lara, now return'd alone
2211From other lands, almost a stranger grown
2212And if from Lara's blood and gentle birth
2213I augur right of courage and of worth
2214He will not that untainted line belie
2215Nor aught that knighthood may accord deny."
2216"To-morrow be it," Ezzelin replied
2217"And here our several worth and truth be tried
2218I gage my life, my falchion to attest
2219My words, so may I mingle with the blest!"
2220
2221What answers Lara? to its centre shrunk
2222His soul, in deep abstraction sudden sunk
2223The words of many, and the eyes of all
2224That there were gather'd, seem'd on him to fall
2225But his were silent, his appear'd to stray
2226In far forgetfulness away — away —
2227Alas! that heedlessness of all around
2228Bespoke remembrance only too profound.
2229
2230"To-morrow! — ay, to-morrow!" — further word
2231Than those repeated none from Lara heard
2232Upon his brow no outward passion spoke
2233From his large eye no flashing anger broke
2234Yet there was something fix'd in that low tone
2235Which shew'd resolve, determined, though unknown.
2236He seized his cloak — his head he slightly bow'd
2237And passing Ezzelin he left the crowd
2238And as he pass'd him, smiling met the frown
2239With which that chieftain's brow would bear him down
2240It was nor smile of mirth, nor struggling pride
2241That curbs to scorn the wrath it cannot hide
2242But that of one in his own heart secure
2243Of all that he would do, or could endure.
2244Could this mean peace? the calmness of the good?
2245Or guilt grown old in desperate hardihood?
2246Alas! too like in confidence are each
2247For man to trust to mortal look or speech
2248From deeds, and deeds alone, may he discern
2249Truths which it wrings the unpractised heart to learn.
2250
2251And Lara call'd his page, and went his way
2252Well could that stripling word or sign obey
2253His only follower from those climes afar
2254Where the soul glows beneath a brighter star
2255For Lara left the shore from whence he sprung
2256In duty patient, and sedate though young
2257Silent as him he served, his fate appears
2258Above his station, and beyond his years.
2259Though not unknown the tongue of Lara's land
2260In such from him he rarely heard command
2261But fleet his step, and clear his tones would come
2262When Lara's lip breathed forth the words of home
2263Those accents, as his native mountains dear
2264Awake their absent echoes in his ear
2265Friends', kindreds', parents', wonted voice recall
2266Now lost, abjured, for one — his friend, his all
2267For him earth now disclosed no other guide
2268What marvel then he rarely left his side?
2269
2270Light was his form, and darkly delicate
2271That brow whereon his native sun had sate
2272But had not marr'd, though in his beams he grew
2273The cheek where oft the unbidden blush shone through
2274Yet not such blush as mounts when health would show
2275All the heart's hue in that delighted glow
2276But 'twas a hectic tint of secret care
2277That for a burning moment fever'd there
2278And the wild sparkle of his eye seem'd caught
2279From high, and lighten'd with electric thought
2280Though its black orb those long low lashes' fringe
2281Had temper'd with a melancholy tinge
2282Yet less of sorrow than of pride was there
2283Or, if 'twere grief, a grief that none should share
2284And pleased not him the sports that please his age
2285The tricks of youth, the frolics of the page
2286For hours on Lara he would fix his glance
2287As all-forgotten in that watchful trance
2288And from his chief withdrawn, he wander'd lone
2289Brief were his answers, and his questions none
2290His walk the wood, his sport some foreign book
2291His resting-place the bank that curbs the brook
2292He seem'd, like him he served, to live apart
2293From all that lures the eye, and fills the heart
2294To know no brotherhood and take from earth
2295No gift beyond that bitter boon — our birth.
2296
2297If aught he loved, 'twas Lara but was shown
2298His faith in reverence and in deeds alone
2299In mute attention and his care, which guess'd
2300Each wish, fulfill'd it ere the tongue express'd.
2301Still there was haughtiness in all he did
2302A spirit deep that brook'd not to be chid
2303His zeal, though more than that of servile hands
2304In act alone obeys, his air commands
2305As if 'twas Lara's less than his desire
2306That thus he served, but surely not for hire.
2307Slight were the tasks enjoin'd him by his lord
2308To hold the stirrup, or to bear the sword
2309To tune his lute, or, if he will'd it more
2310On tomes of other times and tongues to pore
2311But ne'er to mingle with the menial train
2312To whom he shew'd not deference nor disdain
2313But that well-worn reserve which proved he knew
2314No sympathy with that familiar crew
2315His soul, whate'er his station or his stem
2316Could bow to Lara, not descend to them.
2317Of higher birth he seem'd, and better days
2318Nor mark of vulgar toil that hand betrays
2319So femininely white it might bespeak
2320Another sex, when match'd with that smooth cheek
2321But for his garb, and something in his gaze
2322More wild and high than woman's eye betrays
2323A latent fierceness that far more became
2324His fiery climate than his tender frame
2325True, in his words it broke not from his breast
2326But from his aspect might be more than guess'd.
2327Kaled his name, though rumour said he bore
2328Another ere he left his mountain shore
2329For sometimes he would hear, however nigh
2330That name repeated loud without reply
2331As unfamiliar, or, if roused again
2332Start to the sound, as but remember'd then
2333Unless 'twas Lara's wonted voice that spake
2334For then, ear, eyes, and heart would all awake.
2335
2336He had look'd down upon the festive hall
2337And mark'd that sudden strife so mark'd of all
2338And when the crowd around and near him told
2339Their wonder at the calmness of the bold
2340Their marvel how the high-born Lara bore
2341Such insult from a stranger, doubly sore
2342The colour of young Kaled went and came
2343The lip of ashes, and the cheek of flame
2344And o'er his brow the dampening heart-drops threw
2345The sickening iciness of that cold dew
2346That rises as the busy bosom sinks
2347With heavy thoughts from which reflection shrinks.
2348Yes — there be things which we must dream and dare
2349And execute ere thought be half aware
2350Whate'er might Kaled's be, it was enow
2351To seal his lip, but agonise his brow.
2352He gazed on Ezzelin till Lara cast
2353That sidelong smile upon on the knight he pass'd
2354When Kaled saw that smile his visage fell
2355As if on something recognised right well
2356His memory read in such a meaning more
2357Than Lara's aspect unto others wore.
2358Forward he sprung — a moment, both were gone
2359And all within that hall seem'd left alone
2360Each had so fix'd his eye on Lara's mien
2361All had so mix'd their feelings with that scene
2362That when his long dark shadow through the porch
2363No more relieves the glare of yon high torch
2364Each pulse beats quicker, and all bosoms seem
2365To bound as doubting from too black a dream
2366Such as we know is false, yet dread in sooth
2367Because the worst is ever nearest truth.
2368And they are gone — but Ezzelin is there
2369With thoughtful visage and imperious air
2370But long remain'd not ere an hour expired
2371He waved his hand to Otho, and retired.
2372
2373The crowd are gone, the revellers at rest
2374The courteous host, and all-approving guest
2375Again to that accustom'd couch must creep
2376Where joy subsides, and sorrow sighs to sleep
2377And man, o'erlabour'd with his being's strife
2378Shrinks to that sweet forgetfulness of life
2379There lie love's feverish hope. and cunning's guile
2380Hate's working brain and lull'd ambition's wile
2381O'er each vain eye oblivion's pinions wave
2382And quench'd existence crouches in a grave.
2383What better name may slumber's bed become?
2384Night's sepulchre, the universal home
2385Where weakness, strength, vice, virtue, sunk supine
2386Alike in naked helplessness recline
2387Glad for awhile to heave unconscious breath
2388Yet wake to wrestle with the dread of death
2389And shun, though day but dawn on ills increased
2390That sleep, the loveliest, since it dreams the least.
2391
2392Night wanes — the vapours round the mountains curl'd
2393Melt into morn, and Light awakes the world.
2394Man has another day to swell the past
2395And lead him near to little, but his last
2396But mighty Nature bounds as from her birth
2397The sun is in the heavens, and life on earth
2398Flowers in the valley, splendour in the beam
2399Health on the gale, and freshness in the stream.
2400Immortal man! behold her glories shine
2401And cry, exulting inly, "They are thine!"
2402Gaze on, while yet thy gladden'd eye may see
2403A morrow comes when they are not for thee
2404And grieve what may above thy senseless bier
2405Nor earth nor sky will yield a single tear
2406Nor cloud shall gather more, nor leaf shall fall
2407Nor gale breathe forth one sigh for thee, for all
2408But creeping things shall revel in their spoil
2409And fit thy clay to fertilise the soil.
2410
2411'Tis morn — 'tis noon — assembled in the hall
2412The gather'd chieftains come to Otho's call
2413'Tis now the promised hour, that must proclaim
2414The life or death of Lara's future fame
2415When Ezzelin his charge may here unfold
2416And whatsoe'er the tale, it must be told.
2417His faith was pledged, and Lara's promise given
2418To meet it in the eye of man and Heaven.
2419Why comes he not? Such truths to be divulged
2420Methinks the accuser's rest is long indulged.
2421
2422The hour is past, and Lara too is there
2423With self-confiding, coldly patient air
2424Why comes not Ezzelin? The hour is past
2425And murmurs rise, and Otho's brow's o'ercast
2426"I know my friend! his faith I cannot fear
2427If yet he be on earth, expect him here
2428The roof that held him in the valley stands
2429Between my own and noble Lara's lands
2430My halls from such a guest had honour gain'd
2431Nor had Sir Ezzelin his host disdain'd
2432But that some previous proof forbade his stay
2433And urged him to prepare against to-day
2434The word I pledge for his I pledge again
2435Or will myself redeem his knighthood's stain."
2436
2437He ceased — and Lara answer'd, "I am here
2438To lend at thy demand a listening ear
2439To tales of evil from a stranger's tongue
2440Whose words already might my heart have wrung
2441But that I deem'd him scarcely less than mad
2442Or, at the worst, a foe ignobly bad.
2443I know him not — but me it seems he knew
2444In lands where — but I must not trifle too
2445Produce this babbler — or redeem the pledge
2446Here in thy hold, and with thy falchion's edge."
2447
2448Proud Otho on the instant, reddening, threw
2449His glove on earth, and forth his sabre flew.
2450"The last alternative befits me best
2451And thus I answer for mine absent guest."
2452
2453With cheek unchanging from its sallow gloom
2454However near his own or other's tomb
2455With hand, whose almost careless coolness spoke
2456Its grasp well-used to deal the sabre-stroke
2457With eye, though calm, determined not to spare
2458Did Lara too his willing weapon bare.
2459In vain the circling chieftains round them closed
2460For Otho's frenzy would not be opposed
2461And from his lip those words of insult fell
2462His sword is good who can maintain them well.
2463
2464Short was the conflict furious, blindly rash
2465Vain Otho gave his bosom to the gash
2466He bled, and fell but not with deadly wound
2467Stretch'd by a dextrous sleight along the ground.
2468"Demand thy life!" He answer'd not and then
2469From that red floor he ne'er had risen again
2470For Lara's brow upon the moment grew
2471Almost to blackness in its demon hue
2472And fiercer shook his angry falchion now
2473Than when his foe's was levell'd at his brow
2474Then all was stern collectedness and art
2475Now rose the unleaven'd hatred of his heart
2476So little sparing to the foe he fell'd
2477That when the approaching crowd his arm withheld
2478He almost turn'd the thirsty point on those
2479Who thus for mercy dared to interpose
2480But to a moment's thought that purpose bent
2481Yet look'd he on him still with eye intent
2482As if he loathed the ineffectual strife
2483That left a foe, howe'er o'erthrown, with life
2484As if to search how far the wound he gave
2485Had sent its victim onward to his grave.
2486
2487They raised the bleeding Otho, and the Leech
2488Forbade all present question, sign, and speech
2489The others met within a neighbouring hall
2490And he, incensed and heedless of them all
2491The cause and conqueror in this sudden fray
2492In haughty silence slowly strode away
2493He back'd his steed, his homeward path he took
2494Nor cast on Otho's tower a single look.
2495
2496But where was he? that meteor of a night
2497Who menaced but to disappear with light.
2498Where was this Ezzelin? who came and went
2499To leave no other trace of his intent.
2500He left the dome of Otho long ere morn
2501In darkness, yet so well the path was worn
2502He could not miss it near his dwelling lay
2503But there he was not, and with coming day
2504Came fast inquiry, which unfolded nought
2505Except the absence of the chief it sought.
2506A chamber tenantless, a steed at rest
2507His host alarm'd, his murmuring squires distress'd
2508Their search extends along, around the path
2509In dread to met the marks of prowlers' wrath
2510But none are there, and not a brake hath borne
2511Nor gout of blood, nor shred of mantle torn
2512Nor fall nor struggle hath defaced the grass
2513Which still retains a mark where murder was
2514Nor dabbling fingers left to tell the tale
2515The bitter print of each convulsive nail
2516When agonised hands that cease to guard
2517Wound in that pang the smoothness of the sward.
2518Some such had been, if here a life was reft
2519But these were not and doubting hope is left
2520And strange suspicion, whispering Lara's name
2521Now daily mutters o'er his blacken'd fame
2522Then sudden silent when his form appear'd
2523Awaits the absence of the thing it fear'd
2524Again its wonted wondering to renew
2525And dye conjecture with a darker hue.
2526
2527Days roll along, and Otho's wounds are heal'd
2528But not his pride and hate no more conceal'd
2529He was a man of power, and Lara's foe
2530The friend of all who sought to work him woe
2531And from his country's justice now demands
2532Account of Ezzelin at Lara's hands.
2533Who else than Lara could have cause to fear
2534His presence? who had made him disappear
2535If not the man on whom his menaced charge
2536Had sate too deeply were he left at large?
2537The general rumour ignorantly loud
2538The mystery dearest to the curious crowd
2539The seeming friendlessness of him who strove
2540To win no confidence, and wake no love
2541The sweeping fierceness which his soul betray'd
2542The skill with which he wielded his keen blade
2543Where had his arm unwarlike caught that art?
2544Where had that fierceness grown upon his heart?
2545For it was not the blind capricious rage
2546A word can kindle and a word assuage
2547But the deep working of a soul unmix'd
2548With aught of pity where its wrath had fix'd
2549Such as long power and overgorged success
2550Concentrates into all that's merciless
2551These, link'd with that desire which ever sways
2552Mankind, the rather to condemn than praise
2553'Gainst Lara gathering raised at length a storm
2554Such as himself might fear, and foes would form
2555And he must answer for the absent head
2556Of one that haunts him still, alive or dead.
2557
2558Within that land was many a malcontent
2559Who cursed the tyranny to which he bent
2560That soil full many a wringing despot saw
2561Who work'd his wantonness in form of law
2562Long war without and frequent broil within
2563Had made a path for blood and giant sin
2564That waited but a signal to begin
2565New havoc, such as civil discord blends
2566Which knows no neuter, owns but foes or friends
2567Fix'd in his feudal fortress each was lord
2568In word and deed obey'd, in soul abhorr'd.
2569Thus Lara had inherited his lands
2570And with them pining hearts and sluggish hands
2571But that long absence from his native clime
2572Had left him stainless of oppression's crime
2573And now, diverted by his milder sway
2574All dread by slow degrees had worn away
2575The menials felt their usual awe alone
2576But more for him than them that fear was grown
2577They deem'd him now unhappy, though at first
2578Their evil judgment augur'd of the worst
2579And each long restless night, and silent mood
2580Was traced to sickness, fed by solitude
2581And though his lonely habits threw of late
2582Gloom o'er his chamber, cheerful was his gate
2583For thence the wretched ne'er unsoothed withdrew
2584For them, at least, his soul compassion knew.
2585Cold to the great, contemptuous to the high
2586The humble pass'd not his unheeding eye
2587Much he would speak not, but beneath his roof
2588They found asylum oft, and ne'er reproof.
2589And they who watch'd might mark that, day by day
2590Some new retainers gather'd to his sway
2591But most of late, since Ezzelin was lost
2592He play'd the courteous lord and bounteous host
2593Perchance his strife with Otho made him dread
2594Some snare prepared for his obnoxious head
2595Whate'er his view, his favour more obtains
2596With these, the people, than his fellow thanes.
2597If this were policy, so far 'twas sound
2598The million judged but of him as they found
2599From him by sterner chiefs to exile driven
2600They but required a shelter, and 'twas given.
2601By him no peasant mourn'd his rifled cot
2602And scarce the serf could murmur o'er his lot
2603With him old avarice found its hoard secure
2604With him contempt forbore to mock the poor
2605Youth present cheer and promised recompense
2606Detain'd, till all too late to part from thence
2607To hate he offer'd, with the coming change
2608The deep reversion of delay'd revenge
2609To love, long baffled by the unequal match
2610The well-won charms success was sure to snatch.
2611All now was ripe, he waits but to proclaim
2612That slavery nothing which was still a name.
2613The moment came, the hour when Otho thought
2614Secure at last the vengeance which he sought
2615His summons found the destined criminal
2616Begirt by thousands in his swarming hall
2617Fresh from their feudal fetters newly riven
2618Defying earth, and confident of heaven.
2619That morning he had freed the soil-bound slaves
2620Who dig no land for tyrants but their graves!
2621Such is their cry — some watchword for the fight
2622Must vindicate the wrong, and warp the right
2623Religion — freedom — vengeance — what you will
2624A word's enough to raise mankind to kill
2625Some factious phrase by cunning caught and spread
2626That guilt may reign, and wolves and worms be fed!
2627
2628Throughout that clime the feudal chiefs had gain'd
2629Such sway, their infant monarch hardly reign'd
2630Now was the hour for faction's rebel growth
2631The serfs contemn'd the one, and hated both
2632They waited but a leader, and they found
2633One to their cause inseparably bound
2634By circumstance compell'd to plunge again
2635In self-defence, amidst the strife of men.
2636Cut off by some mysterious fate from those
2637Whom birth and nature meant not for his foes
2638Had Lara from that night, to him accurst
2639Prepared to meet, but not alone, the worst
2640Some reason urged, whate'er it was, to shun
2641Inquiry into deeds at distance done
2642By mingling with his own the cause of all
2643E'en if he fail'd, he still delay'd his fall.
2644The sullen calm that long his bosom kept
2645The storm that once had spent itself and slept
2646Roused by events that seem'd foredoom'd to urge
2647His gloomy fortunes to their utmost verge
2648Burst forth, and made him all he once had been
2649And is again he only changed the scene.
2650Light care had he for life, and less for fame
2651But not less fitted for the desperate game
2652He deem'd himself mark'd out for others' hate
2653And mock'd at ruin, so they shared his fate.
2654What cared he for the freedom of the crowd?
2655He raised the humble but to bend the proud.
2656He had hoped quiet in his sullen lair
2657But man and destiny beset him there
2658Inured to hunters, he was found at bay
2659And they must kill, they cannot snare the prey.
2660Stern, unambitious, silent he had been
2661Henceforth a calm spectator of life's scene
2662But dragg'd again upon the arena, stood
2663A leader not unequal to the feud
2664In voice — mien — gesture — savage nature spoke
2665And from his eye the gladiator broke.
2666
2667What boots the oft-repeated tale of strife
2668The feast of vultures, and the waste of life?
2669The varying fortune of each separate field
2670The fierce that vanquish, and the faint that yield?
2671The smoking ruin, and the crumbled wall?
2672In this the struggle was the same with all
2673Save that distemper'd passions lent their force
2674In bitterness that banish'd all remorse.
2675None sued, for Mercy know her cry was vain
2676The captive died upon the battle-slain
2677In either cause, one rage alone possess'd
2678The empire of the alternate victor's breast
2679And they that smote for freedom or for sway
2680Deem'd few were slain, while more remain'd to slay.
2681It was too late to check the wasting brand
2682And Desolation reap'd the famish'd land
2683The torch was lighted, and the flame was spread
2684And Carnage smiled upon her daily bread.
2685
2686Fresh with the nerve the new-born impulse strung
2687The first success to Lara's numbers clung
2688But that vain victory hath ruin'd all
2689They form no longer to their leader's call
2690In blind confusion on the foe they press
2691And think to snatch is to secure success.
2692The lust of booty, and the thirst of hate
2693Lure on the broken brigands to their fate
2694In vain he doth whate'er a chief may do
2695To check the headlong fury of that crew
2696In vain their stubborn ardour he would tame
2697The hand that kindles cannot quench the flame.
2698The wary foe alone hath turn'd their mood
2699And shewn their rashness to that erring brood
2700The feign'd retreat, the nightly ambuscade
2701The daily harass, and the fight delay'd
2702The long privation of the hoped supply
2703The tentless rest beneath the humid sky
2704The stubborn wall that mocks the leaguer's art
2705And palls the patience of his baffled heart
2706Of these they had not deem'd the battle-day
2707They could encounter as a veteran may
2708But more preferr'd the fury of the strife
2709And present death, to hourly suffering life
2710And famine wrings, and fever sweeps away
2711His numbers melting fast from their array
2712Intemperate triumph fades to discontent
2713And Lara's soul alone seems still unbent
2714But few remain to aid his voice and hand
2715And thousands dwindled to a scanty band
2716Desperate, though few, the last and best remain'd
2717To mourn the discipline they late disdain'd.
2718One hope survives, the frontier is not far
2719And thence they may escape from native war
2720And bear within them to the neighbouring state
2721An exile's sorrows, or an outlaw's hate
2722Hard is the task their fatherland to quit
2723But harder still to perish or submit.
2724
2725It is resolved they march consenting Night
2726Guides with her star their dim and torchless flight
2727Already they perceive its tranquil beam
2728Sleep on the surface of the barrier stream
2729Already they descry Is yon the bank?
2730Away! 'tis lined with many a hostile rank.
2731Return or fly! What glitters in the rear?
2732'Tis Otho's banner the pursuer's spear!
2733Are those the shepherds' fires upon the height?
2734Alas! they blaze too widely for the flight
2735Cut off from hope, and compass'd in the toil
2736Less blood, perchance, hath bought a richer spoil!
2737
2738A moment's pause 'tis but to breathe their band
2739Or shall they onward press, or here withstand?
2740It matters little if they charge the foes
2741Who by their border-stream their march oppose
2742Some few, perchance, may break and pass the line
2743However link'd to baffle such design.
2744"The charge be ours! to wait for their assault
2745Were fate well worthy of a coward's halt."
2746Forth flies each sabre, rein'd is every steed
2747And the next word shall scarce outstrip the deed
2748In the next tone of Lara's gathering breath
2749How many shall but hear the voice of death!
2750
2751His blade is bared — in him there is an air
2752As deep, but far too tranquil for despair
2753A something of indifference more than then
2754Becomes the bravest, if they feel for men.
2755He turn'd his eye on Kaled, ever near
2756And still too faithful to betray one fear
2757Perchance 'twas but the moon's dim twilight threw
2758Along his aspect an unwonted hue
2759Of mournful paleness, whose deep tint express'd
2760The truth, and not the terror of his breast.
2761This Lara mark'd, and laid his hand on his
2762It trembled not in such an hour as this
2763His lip was silent, scarcely beat his heart
2764His eye alone proclaim'd"We will not part!
2765Thy band may perish, or thy friends may flee
2766Farewell to life, but not adieu to thee!"
2767
2768The word hath pass'd his lips, and onward driven
2769Pours the link'd band through ranks asunder riven
2770Well has each steed obey'd the armed heel
2771And flash the scimitars, and rings the steel
2772Outnumber'd, not outbraved, they still oppose
2773Despair to daring, and a front to foes
2774And blood is mingled with the dashing stream
2775Which runs all redly till the morning beam.
2776
2777Commanding, aiding, animating all
2778Where foe appear'd to press, or friend to fall
2779Cheers Lara's voice, and waves or strikes his steel
2780Inspiring hope himself had ceased to feel.
2781None fled, for well they knew that flight were vain
2782But those that waver turn to smite again
2783While yet they find the firmest of the foe
2784Recoil before their leader's look and blow
2785Now girt with numbers, now almost alone
2786He foils their ranks, or reunites his own
2787Himself he spared not — once they seem'd to fly
2788Now was the time, he waved his hand on high
2789And shook — Why sudden droops that plumed crest?
2790The shaft is sped — the arrow's in his breast!
2791That fatal gesture left the unguarded side
2792And Death hath stricken down yon arm of pride.
2793The word of triumph fainted from his tongue
2794That hand, so raised, how droopingly it hung!
2795But yet the sword instinctively retains
2796Though from its fellow shrink the falling reins
2797These Kaled snatches dizzy with the blow
2798And senseless bending o'er his saddle-bow
2799Perceives not Lara that his anxious page
2800Beguiles his charger from the combat's rage
2801Meantime his followers charge and charge again
2802Too mix'd the slayers now to heed the slain!
2803
2804Day glimmers on the dying and the dead
2805The cloven cuirass, and the helmless head
2806The war-horse masterless is on the earth
2807And that last gasp hath burst his bloody girth
2808And near, yet quivering with what life remain'd
2809The heel that urged him, and the hand that rein'd
2810And some too near that rolling torrent lie
2811Whose waters mock the lip of those that die
2812That panting thirst which scorches in the breath
2813Of those that die the soldier's fiery death
2814In vain impels the burning mouth to crave
2815One drop — the last — to cool it for the grave
2816With feeble and convulsive effort swept
2817Their limbs along the crimson'd turf have crept
2818The faint remains of life such struggles waste
2819But yet they reach the stream, and bend to taste
2820They feel its freshness, and almost partake
2821Why pause? — No further thirst have they to slake
2822It is unquench'd, and yet they feel it not
2823It was an agony — but now forgot!
2824
2825Beneath a lime, remoter from the scene
2826Where but for him that strife had never been
2827A breathing but devoted warrior lay
2828'Twas Lara bleeding fast from life away.
2829His follower once, and now his only guide
2830Kneels Kaled watchful o'er his welling side
2831And with his scarf would stanch the tides that rush
2832With each convulsion in a blacker gush
2833And then, as his faint breathing waxes low
2834In feebler, not less fatal tricklings flow
2835He scarce can speak, but motions him 'tis vain
2836And merely adds another throb to pain.
2837He clasps the hand that pang which would assuage
2838And sadly smiles his thanks to that dark page
2839Who nothing fears, nor feels, nor heeds, nor sees
2840Save that damp brow which rests upon his knees
2841Save that pale aspect, where the eye, though dim
2842Held all the light that shone on earth for him.
2843
2844The foe arrives, who long had search'd the field
2845Their triumph nought till Lara too should yield
2846They would remove him, but they see 'twere vain
2847And he regards them with a calm disdain
2848That rose to reconcile him with his fate
2849And that escape to death from living hate
2850And Otho comes, and leaping from his steed
2851Looks on the bleeding foe that made him bleed
2852And questions of his state he answers not
2853Scarce glances on him as on one forgot
2854And turns to Kaled — each remaining word
2855They understood not, if distinctly heard
2856His dying tones are in that other tongue
2857To which some strange remembrance wildly clung.
2858They spake of other scenes, but what — is known
2859To Kaled, whom their meaning reach'd alone
2860And he replied, though faintly, to their sound
2861While gazed the rest in dumb amazement round
2862They seem'd even then — that twain unto the last
2863To half forget the present in the past
2864To share between themselves some separate fate
2865Whose darkness none beside should penetrate.
2866
2867Their words though faint were many — from the tone
2868Their import those who heard could judge alone
2869From this, you might have deem'd young Kaled's death
2870More near than Lara's by his voice and breath
2871So sad, so deep, and hesitating broke
2872The accents his scarce moving pale lips spoke
2873But Lara's voice, though low, at first was clear
2874And calm, till murmuring death gasp'd hoarsely near
2875But from his visage little could we guess
2876So unrepentant, dark, and passionless
2877Save that when struggling nearer to his last
2878Upon that page his eye was kindly cast
2879And once, as Kaled's answering accents ceased
2880Rose Lara's hand, and pointed to the East
2881Whether as then the breaking sun from high
2882Roll'd back the clouds the morrow caught his eye
2883Or that 'twas chance, or some remember'd scene
2884That raised his arm to point where such had been
2885Scarce Kaled seem'd to know, but turn'd away
2886As if his heart abhorr'd that coming day
2887And shrunk his glance before that morning light
2888To look on Lara's brow — where all grew night.
2889Yet sense seem'd left, though better were its loss
2890For when one near display'd the absolving cross
2891And proffer'd to his touch the holy bead
2892Of which his parting soul might own the need
2893He look'd upon it with an eye profane
2894And smiled — Heaven pardon! if 'twere with disdain
2895And Kaled, though he spoke not, nor withdrew
2896From Lara's face his fix'd despairing view
2897With brow repulsive, and with gesture swift
2898Flung back the hand which held the sacred gift
2899As if such but disturb'd the expiring man
2900Nor seem'd to know his life but then began
2901The life immortal infinite, secure
2902To all for whom that cross hath made it sure!
2903
2904But gasping heaved the breath that Lara drew
2905And dull the film along his dim eye grew
2906His limbs stretch'd fluttering, and his head droop'd o'er
2907The weak yet still untiring knee that bore
2908He press'd the hand he held upon his heart
2909It beats no more, but Kaled will not part
2910With the cold grasp, but feels, and feels in vain
2911For that faint throb which answers not again.
2912"It beats!" — Away, thou dreamer! he is gone
2913It once was Lara which thou look'st upon.
2914
2915He gazed, as if not yet had pass'd away
2916The haughty spirit of that humble clay
2917And those around have roused him from his trance
2918But cannot tear from thence his fixed glance
2919And when in raising him from where he bore
2920Within his arms the form that felt no more
2921He saw the head his breast would still sustain
2922Roll down like earth to earth upon the plain
2923He did not dash himself thereby, nor tear
2924The glossy tendrils of his raven hair
2925But strove to stand and gaze, but reel'd and fell
2926Scarce breathing more than that he loved so well.
2927Than that he lov'd! Oh! never yet beneath
2928The breast of man such trusty love may breathe!
2929That trying moment hath at once reveal'd
2930The secret long and yet but half conceal'd
2931In baring to revive that lifeless breast
2932Its grief seem'd ended, but the sex confess'd
2933And life return'd, and Kaled felt no shame
2934What now to her was Womanhood or Fame?
2935
2936And Lara sleeps not where his fathers sleep
2937But where he died his grave was dug as deep
2938Nor is his mortal slumber less profound
2939Though priest nor bless'd, nor marble deck'd the mound
2940And he was mourn'd by one whose quiet grief
2941Less loud, outlasts a people's for their chief.
2942Vain was all question ask'd her of the past
2943And vain e'en menace — silent to the last
2944She told nor whence nor why she left behind
2945Her all for one who seem'd but little kind.
2946Why did she love him? Curious fool! be still
2947Is human love the growth of human will?
2948To her he might be gentleness the stern
2949Have deeper thoughts than your dull eyes discern
2950And when they love, your smilers guess not how
2951Beats the strong heart, though less the lips avow.
2952They were not common links that form'd the chain
2953That bound to Lara Kaled's heart and brain
2954But that wild tale she brook'd not to unfold
2955And seal'd is now each lip that could have told.
2956
2957They laid him in the earth, and on his breast
2958Besides the wound that sent his soul to rest
2959They found the scattered dints of many a scar
2960Which were not planted there in recent war
2961Where'er had pass'd his summer years of life
2962It seems they vanish'd in a land of strife
2963But all unknown his glory or his guilt
2964These only told that somewhere blood was spilt.
2965And Ezzelin, who might have spoke the past
2966Return'd no more — that night appear'd his last.
2967
2968Upon that night a peasant's is the tale
2969A Serf that cross'd the intervening vale
2970When Cynthia's light almost gave way to morn
2971And nearly veil'd in mist her waning horn
2972A Serf, that rose betimes to thread the wood
2973And hew the bough that bought his children's food
2974Pass'd by the river that divides the plain
2975Of Otho's lands and Lara's broad domain
2976He heard a tramp — a horse and horseman broke
2977From out the wood — before him was a cloak
2978Wrapt round some burthen at his saddlebow
2979Bent was his head, and hidden was his brow.
2980Roused by the sudden sight at such a time
2981And some foreboding that it might be crime
2982Himself unheeded watch'd the stranger's course
2983Who reach'd the river, bounded from his horse
2984And lifting thence the burthen which he bore
2985Heaved up the bank, and dash'd it from the shore
2986Then paused, and look'd, and turn'd, and seem'd to watch
2987And still another hurried glance would snatch
2988And follow with his step the stream that flow'd
2989As if even yet too much its surface show'd
2990At once he started, stoop'd, around him strewn
2991The winter floods had scatter'd heaps of stone
2992Of these the heaviest thence he gather'd there
2993And slung them with a more than common care.
2994Meantime the Serf had crept to where unseen
2995Himself might safely mark what this might mean.
2996He caught a glimpse, as of a floating breast
2997And something glitter'd starlike on the vest
2998But ere he well could mark the buoyant trunk
2999A massy fragment smote it, and it sunk
3000It rose again, but indistinct to view
3001And left the waters of a purple hue
3002Then deeply disappear'd the horseman gazed
3003Till ebb'd the latest eddy it had raised
3004Then turning, vaulted on his pawing steed
3005And instant spurr'd him into panting speed.
3006His face was mask'd the features of the dead
3007If dead it were, escaped the observer's dread
3008But if in sooth a star its bosom bore
3009Such is the badge that knighthood ever wore
3010And such 'tis known Sir Ezzelin had worn
3011Upon the night that led to such a morn.
3012If thus he perish'd, Heaven receive his soul!
3013His undiscover'd limbs to ocean roll
3014And charity upon the hope would dwell
3015It was not Lara's hand by which he fell.
3016
3017And Kaled, Lara, Ezzelin, are gone
3018Alike without their monumental stone!
3019The first, all efforts vainly strove to wean
3020From lingering where her chieftain's blood had been.
3021Grief had so tamed a spirit once too proud
3022Her tears were few, her wailing never loud
3023But furious would you tear her from the spot
3024Where yet she scarce believed that he was not
3025Her eye shot forth with all the living fire
3026That haunts the tigress in her whelpless ire
3027But left to waste her weary moments there
3028She talk'd all idly unto shapes of air
3029Such as the busy brain of Sorrow paints
3030And woos to listen to her fond complaints
3031And she would sit beneath the very tree
3032Where lay his drooping head upon her knee
3033And in that posture where she saw him fall
3034His words, his looks, his dying grasp recall
3035And she had shorn, but saved her raven hair
3036And oft would snatch it from her bosom there
3037And fold and press it gently to the ground
3038As if she stanch'd anew some phantom's wound.
3039Herself would question, and for him reply
3040Then rising, start, and beckon him to fly
3041From some imagined spectre in pursuit
3042Then seat her down upon some linden's root
3043And hide her visage with her meagre hand
3044Or trace strange characters along the sand. —
3045This could not last, she lies by him she loved
3046Her tale untold, her truth too dearly proved.
3047
3048I SAW two beings in the hues of youth
3049Standing upon a hill, a gentle hill
3050Green and of mild declivity, the last
3051As ’twere the cape of a long ridge of such
3052Save that there was no sea to lave its base
3053But a most living landscape, and the wave
3054Of woods and cornfields, and the abodes of men
3055Scatter’d at intervals, and wreathing smoke
3056Arising from such rustic roofs the hill
3057Was crown’d with a peculiar diadem
3058Of trees, i circular array, so fix’d
3059Not by the sport of nature, but of man
3060These two, a maiden and a youth, were there
3061Gazing the one on all that was beneath
3062Fair as herself but the boy gazed on her
3063And both were young, and one was beautiful
3064And both were young yet not alike in youth.
3065As the sweet moon on the horizon’s verge
3066The maid was on the eve of womanhood
3067The boy had fewer summers, but his heart
3068Had far outgrown his years, and to his eye
3069There was but one beloved face on earth
3070And that was shining on him he had look’d
3071Upon it till it could not pass away
3072He had no breath, no being, but in hers
3073She was his voice he did not speak to her
3074But trembled on her words she was his sight
3075For his eye follow’d hers, and saw with hers
3076Which colour’d all his objects—he had ceased
3077To live within himself she was his life
3078The ocean to the river of his thoughts
3079Which terminated all upon a tone
3080A touch of hers, his blood would ebb and flow
3081And his cheek change tempestuously—his heart
3082Unknowing of its cause of agony.
3083But she in these fond feelings had no share
3084Her sighs were not for him to her he was
3085Even as a brother—but no more ’twas much
3086For brotherless she was, save in the name
3087Her infant friendship had bestow’d on him
3088Herself the solitary scion left
3089Of a time-honored race. It was a name
3090Which pleased him, and yet pleased him not—and why?
3091Time taught him a deep answer—when she loved
3092Another even now she loved another
3093And on the summit of that hill she stood
3094Looking afar if yet her lover’s steed
3095Kept pace with her expectancy and flew.
3096
3097A change came o’er the spirit of my dream.
3098There was an ancient mansion, and before
3099Its walls there was a steed caparison’d
3100Within an antique Oratory stood
3101The Boy of whom I spake—he was alone
3102And pale, and pacing to and fro anon
3103He sate him down, and seized a pen, and traced
3104Words which I could not guess of then he lean’d
3105His bow’d head on his hands, and shook as ’twere
3106With a convulsion—then arose again
3107And with his teeth and quivering hands did tear
3108What he had written, but he shed no tears.
3109And he did calm himself, and fix his brow
3110Into a kind of quiet as he paused
3111The Lady of his love re-enter’d there
3112She was serene and smiling then, and yet
3113She knew she was by him beloved,—she knew
3114For quickly comes such knowledge, that his heart
3115Was darken’d with her shadow, and she saw
3116That he was wretched, but she saw not all.
3117He rose, and with a cold and gentle grasp
3118He took her hand a moment o’er his face
3119A tablet of unutterable thoughts
3120Was traced, and then it faded, as it came
3121He dropp’d the hand he held, and with slow steps
3122Retired, but not as bidding her adieu
3123For they did part with mutual smiles he pass’d
3124From out the massy gate of that old Hall
3125And mounting on his steed he went his way
3126And ne’er repass’d that hoary threshold more.
3127
3128A change came o’er the spirit of my dream.
3129The Boy was sprung to manhood in the wilds
3130Of fiery climes he made himself a home
3131And his Soul drank their sunbeams he was girt
3132With strange and dusky aspects he was not
3133Himself like what he had been on the sea
3134And on the shore he was a wanderer
3135There was a mass of many images
3136Crowded like waves upon me, but he was
3137A part of all and in the last he lay
3138Reposing from the noontide sultriness
3139Couch’d among fallen columns, in the shade
3140Of ruin’d walls that had survived the names
3141Of those who rear’d them by his sleeping side
3142Stood camels grazing, and some goodly steeds
3143Were fasten’d near a fountain and a man
3144Clad in a flowing garb did watch the while
3145While many of his tribe slumber’d around
3146And they were canopied by the blue sky
3147So cloudless, clear, and purely beautiful
3148That God alone was to be seen in Heaven.
3149
3150A change came o’er the spirit of my dream.
3151The Lady of his love was wed with One
3152Who did not love her better—in her home
3153A thousand leagues from his,—her native home
3154She dwelt, begirt with growing Infancy
3155Daughters and sons of Beauty,—but behold!
3156Upon her face there was the tint of grief
3157The settled shadow of an inward strife
3158And an unquiet drooping of the eye
3159As if its lid were charged with unshed tears.
3160What could her grief be?—she had all she loved
3161And he who had so loved her was not there
3162To trouble with bad hopes, or evil wish
3163Or ill-repress’d affliction, her pure thoughts.
3164What could her grief be?—she had loved him not
3165Nor given him cause to deem himself beloved
3166Nor could he be a part of that which prey’d
3167Upon her mind—a spectre of the past.
3168
3169A change came o’er the spirit of my dream
3170The Wanderer was return’d.—I saw him stand
3171Before an Altar—with a gentle bride
3172Her face was fair, but was not that which made
3173The Starlight of his Boyhood—as he stood
3174Even at the altar, o’er his brow there came
3175The self-same aspect, and the quivering shock
3176That in the antique Oratory shook
3177His bosom in its solitude and then—
3178As in that hour—a moment o’er his face
3179The tablet of unutterable thoughts
3180Was traced,—and then it faded as it came
3181And he stood calm and quiet, and he spoke
3182The fitting vows, but heard not his own words
3183And all things reel’d around him he could see
3184Not that which was, nor that which should have been
3185But the old mansion, and the accustom’d hall
3186And the remember’d chambers, and the place
3187The day, the hour, the sunshine, and the shade
3188All things pertaining to that place and hour
3189And her who was his destiny, came back
3190And thrust themselves between him and the light
3191What business had they there at such a time?
3192
3193A change came o’er the spirit of my dream.
3194The Lady of his love—Oh! she was changed
3195As by the sickness of the soul her mind
3196Had wander’d from its dwelling, and her eyes
3197They had not their own lustre, but the look
3198Which is not of the earth she was become
3199The queen of a fantastic realm her thoughts
3200Were combinations of disjointed things
3201And forms impalpable and unperceived
3202Of others’ sight, familiar were to hers.
3203And this the world calls frenzy but the wise
3204Have a far deeper madness, and the glance
3205Of melancholy is a fearful gift
3206What is it but the telescope of truth?
3207Which strips the distance of its fantasies
3208And brings life near in utter nakedness
3209Making the cold reality too real!
3210
3211A change came o’er the spirit of my dream.
3212The Wanderer was alone as heretofore
3213The beings which surrounded him were gone
3214Or were at war with him he was a mark
3215For blight and desolation, compass’d round
3216With Hatred and Contention Pain was mix’d
3217In all which was served up to him, until
3218He fed on poisons, and they had no power
3219But were a kind of nutriment he lived
3220Through that which had been death to many men
3221And made him friends of mountains with the stars
3222And the quick Spirit of the Universe
3223He held his dialogues and they did teach
3224To him the magic of their mysteries
3225To him the book of Night was open’d wide
3226And voices from the deep abyss reveal’d
3227A marvel and a secret—Be it so.
3228
3229My dream was past it had no further change.
3230It was of a strange order, that the doom
3231Of these two creatures should be thus traced out
3232Almost like a reality—the one
3233To end in madness—both in misery.
3234
3235To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell
3236To slowly trace the forest's shady scene
3237Where things that own not man's dominion dwell
3238And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been
3239To climb the trackless mountain all unseen
3240With the wild flock that never needs a fold
3241Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean
3242This is not solitude, 'tis but to hold
3243Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unrolled.
3244
3245But midst the crowd, the hurry, the shock of men
3246To hear, to see, to feel and to possess
3247And roam alone, the world's tired denizen
3248With none who bless us, none whom we can bless
3249Minions of splendour shrinking from distress!
3250None that, with kindred consciousness endued
3251If we were not, would seem to smile the less
3252Of all the flattered, followed, sought and sued
3253This is to be alone this, this is solitude!