No fond regret must Norman know;
When bursts Clan-Alpine on the foe,
His heart must be like bended bow,
His foot like arrow free, Mary !
A time will come with feeling fraught!
For, if I fall in battle fought,
Thy hapless lover's dying thought
Shall be a thought on thee, Mary.
And if returned from conquered foes,
How blithely will the evening close,
How sweet the linnet sing repose,
To my young bride and me, Mary!
HARP OF THE NORTH,
[From the Same.]
the North, farewell! The hills grow dark,
On purple peaks a deeper shade descending;
In twilight copse the glow-worm lights her spark,
The deer, half-seen, are to the covert wending.
Resume thy wizard elm! the fountain lending,
And the wild breeze, thy wilder minstrelsy;
Thy numbers sweet with Nature's vespers blending,
With distant echo from the fold and lea,
Aud herd-boy's evening pipe, and hum of housing bee.
Yet once again, farewell, thou Minstrel Harp!
Yet once again, forgive my feeble sway,
And little reck I of the censure sharp
May idly cavil at an idle lay.
Much have I owed thy strains on life's long way,
Through secret woes the world has never known,
When on the weary night dawned wearier day,
And bitterer was the grief devoured alone.
That I o'erlive such woes, Enchantress! is thine own.
Hark! as my lingering footsteps slow retire,
Some Spirit of the Air has wak'd thy string!
'Tis now a Seraph bold, with touch of fire,
Tis now the brush of Fairy's frolic wing.
Receding
Receding now, the dying numbers ring
Fainter and fainter down the rugged dell, And now the mountain breezes scarcely bring A wandering witch-note of the distant spellAnd now, 'tis silence all!-Enchantress, fare thee well i
[From SOUTHEY'S CURSE OF KEHAMA.]
HE Sun rides high; the hour is nigh;
The multitude who long,
Lest aught should mar the rite,
In circle wide on every side,
Have kept the Steed in sight,
Contract their circle now, and drive him on.
Drawn in long files before the Temple-court,
The Rajah's archers flank an ample space;
Here, moving onward still, they drive him near,
Then, opening, give him way to enter here.
Behold him, how he starts and flings his head!
On either side in glittering order spread,
The archers ranged in narrowing lines appear;
The multitude behind close up the rear
With moon-like bend, and silently await
The awful end,
The rite that shall from Indra wrest his power.
In front, with far-stretch'd walls, and many a tower
Turret and dome and pinnacle elate,
The huge Pagoda seems to load the land:
And there before the gate,
The Bramin band expectant stand,
The axe is ready for Kehama's hand.
Hark! at the Golden Palaces
The Bramin strikes the time!
One, two, three, four, a thrice-told chime,
And then again, one, two.
The bowl that in its vessel floats anew
Must fill and sink again,
Then will the final stroke be due.
The Sun rides high, the noon is nigh,
And silently, as if spell-bound,
The multitude expect the sound.
Lo! how the Steed, with sudden start,
Turns his quick head to every part;
Long files of men on every side appear.
The sight might well his heart affright,
And yet the silence that is here
Inspires a stranger fear;
For not a murmur, not a sound
Of breath or motion rises round,
No stir is heard in all that mighty crowd;
He neighs, and from the temple-wall
The voice re-echoes loud,
Loud and distinct, as from a hill
Across a lonely vale, when all is still.
Within the temple, on his golden throne
Reclin'd, Kehama lies,
Watching with steady eyes
The perfum'd light that, burning bright,
Metes out the passing hours.
On either hand his eunuchs stand,
Freshening with fans of peacock plumes the air
Which, redolent of all rich gums and flowers,
Seems, overcharged with sweets, to stagnate there.
Lo! the time-taper's flame ascending slow
Creeps up its coil toward the fated line;
Kehama rises and goes forth,
And from the altar, ready where it lies,
He takes the axe of sacrifice.
That instant from the crowd, with sudden shout,
And with their hurtling arrows fill the sky.
In vain they fall upon him fast as rain;
He bears a charmed life, which may defy
All weapons,... ...and the darts that whizz around,
He from an adamantine panoply
Repell'd, fall idly to the ground.
Kehama clasp'd his hands in agony,
And saw him grasp the hallowed courser's mane,
Spring up with sudden bound,
And madman's gesture, gallop round and round.
They seize, they drag him to the Rajah's feet.
What doom will now be his....what vengeance meet
Will he, who knows no mercy, now require?
The obsequious guards around, with blood-hound eye,
Look for the word, in slow-consuming fire,
By peace-meal death, to make the wretch expire,
Or hoist his living carcase, hook'd on high,
To feed the fowls and insects of the sky;
Or if aught worse inventive cruelty
To that remorseless heart of royalty
Might prompt, accursed instruments they stand
To work the wicked will with wicked hand.
Far other thoughts were in the multitude;
Pity, and human feelings held them still;
And stifled sighs and groans supprest were there,
And many a secret curse and inward prayer
Call'd on the insulted Gods to save mankind.
Expecting some new crime in fear they stood,
Some horror which would make the natural blood
Start, with cold shudderings thrill the sinking heart,
Whiten the lip, and make the abhorrent eye
Roll back and close, prest in for agony.
How then fared he for whom the mighty crowd
Suffered in spirit thus,...how then fared he?
A ghastly smile was on his lip, his eye
Glared with a ghastly hope, as he drew nigh,
And cried aloud, Yes, Rajah! it is I!
And wilt thou kill me now?
The countenance of the Almighty Man
Fell when he knew Laudurlad, and his brow
Was clouded with despite, as one asham'd.
That wretch again! indignant he exclaim'd,
And smote his forehead, and stood silently Awile in wrath: then, with ferocious smile, And eyes which seem'd to darken his dark cheek, Let him go free! he cried; he hath his curse, And vengeance upon him can wreak no worse.... But ye who did not stop him....tremble ye!
He bade the archers pile their weapons there:
No manly courage fill'd the slavish band,
No sweetening vengeance rous'd a brave despair.
He call'd his horsemen then, and gave command
To hem the offenders in, and hew them down.
Ten thousand scymitars at once uprear'd,
Flash up, like waters sparkling to the sun;
A second time the fatal brands appear'd
Lifted aloft,....they glitter'd then no more,
Their light was gone, their splendour quench'd in gore.
At noon the massacre begun,
And night clos'd in before the work of death was done.
JAGA-NAUT.
[From the same.]
the city of great Jaga-Naut!
Joy in the seven-headed Idol's shrine!
A virgin bride his ministers have brought,
A mortal maid in form and face divine,
Peerless among all daughters of mankind!
Search'd they the world again from East to West,
In endless quest,
Seeking the fairest and the best,
No maid so lovely might they hope to find;....
For she hath breath'd celestial air,
And heavenly food has been her fare,
And heavenly thoughts and feelings give her face
That heavenly grace.
Joy in the city of great Jaga-Naut,
Joy in the seven-headed Idol's shrine!
The fairest maid his Yoguees sought,
A fairer than the fairest have they brought,
A maid of charms surpassing human thought,
A maid divine.
Now bring ye forth the Chariot of the God!
Bring him abroad,
That through the swarming city he may ride;
Place ye the Maid of more than mortal grace,
The Maid of perfect form and heavenly face!
Set her aloft in triumph, like a bride
Upon the bridal car,
And spread the joyful tidings wide and far,...
Spread it with trump and voice
That all may hear, and all who hear rejoice,...
The Mighty One hath found his mate! the God
To-night will he go forth from his abode!
Ye myriads who adore him,
Prepare the way before him!
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