Stream from the church-tower, red and high-
A lurid1 mark and dread to see ;
And awesome bells they were to mee,
That in the dark rang "Enderby."
18. They rang, the sailor lads to guide
From roofe to roofe who fearless rowed;
And I-my sonne was at my side,
And yet the ruddy beacon glowed;
And yet he moaned beneath his breath,
"O come in life, or come in death!
O lost! my love, Elizabeth."
19. And didst thou visit him no more?
Thou didst, thou didst, my daughter deare;
The waters laid thee at his dōore,
Ere yet the early dawn was clear.
Thy pretty bairns in fåst embrace,
The lifted sun shōne on thy face,
Downe drifted to thy dwelling-place.
20. That flow strewed wrecks about the gråss,
That ebbe swept out the flocks to sea;
A fatal ebbe and flōw, alås!
To manye mōre than myne and mee:
But each will mōurn his own (she sayth);
And sweeter woman ne'er drew breath
Than my sonne's wife, Elizabeth.
21. I shall never hear her mōre
By the reedy Lindis shōre,
"Cusha, Cusha, Cusha!" calling
Ere the early dews be falling;
I shall never hear her song,
"Cusha, Cusha!" all along,
Where the sunny Lindis flowèth,
From the meads where melick grōwèth,
When the water winding downe,
Onward floweth to the towne.
1 Lur'id, ghastly pale; dismal.
22. I shall never see her mōre
Where the reeds and rushes quiver,
Shiver, quiver;
Stand beside the sobbing river,
Sobbing, throbbing, in its falling,
To the sandy lonesome shōre;
I shall never hear her calling-
"Leave your meadow grasses mellow,
Mellow, mellow;
Quit your cowslips, cowslips yellow;
Come uppe Whitefoot, come uppe Lightfoot;
Quit your pipes of parsley hollow,
Come uppe Lightfoot, rise and follow;
Lightfoot, Whitefoot,
From your clovers lift the head;
Come uppe Jetty, follow, follow,
Jetty, to the milking shed."
73. ADDRESS TO THE OCEAN.
OLL on, thou deep and dark blue ocean-roll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ;
Man marks the earth with ruin; his control.
Stops with the shore; upon the watery plain
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain
A shadow of man's ravage, save his own;
When for a moment, like a drop of rain,
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,
Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown.
2. The armaments 1 which thunderstrike the walls
Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake,
And monarchs tremble in their capitals-
The oak leviathans,2 whose huge ribs make
Their clay creator, the vain titles take
1 Ar'ma ment, a body of forces equipped for war,
2 Le vi'a than, a whale or other large aquatic animal: in the verse above it signifies a ship.
Of lord of thee and arbiter 1 of war!
These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake,
They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar
Alike the Armada's 2 pride, or spoils of Trafalgar.3
3. Thy shōres are empires, changed in all save thee.
Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they?
Thy waters wasted them while they were free,
And many a tyrant since; their shōres obey
The stranger, slave, or savage; their decay
Has dried up realms to deserts: not so thou,
Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play—
Time writes no wrinkle on thine ăzure brow—
Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.
4. Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form
Glasses itself in tempests; in all time,
Cälm or convulsed-in breeze, or gale, or storm,
Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime,
Dark-heaving, boundless, endless, and sublime,
The image of Eternity-the throne
Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime
The monsters of the deep are made! each zone
Obeys thee: thou goëst forth, dread, fathomlèss, alone.
5. And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy
Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be
Borne like the bubbles, onward; from a boy,
I wantoned with thy breakers-they to me
Were a delight; and if the freshening sea
Made them a terror, 'twas a pleasing fear,
For I was, as it were, a child of thee,
And trusted to thy billows far and near,
And laid my hand upon thy mane, as I do here.
1 Ar'bi ter, one whose power of governing or deciding is not limited. 2 Ar mā'da, a fleet of armed ships; it usually refers to the Spanish fleet sent against England in 1588.
3 Trǎf al gar', a famous naval victory gained in 1805 by the English
Admiral Nelson over the combined fleets of France and Spain.
4 Wan'toned, played; frolicked. ' George Gordon Byron, Lord Byron, an English poet, born in London, Jan. 22, 1788; died at Missolonghi, Greece, April 19, 1824.
74. JOAN OF ARC AT RHEIMS.
HAT was a joyous day in Rheims1 of old,
When peal on peal of mighty music rolled
Fōrth from her thronged cathedral; while around,
A multitude, whose billows made no sound,
Chained to a hush of wonder, though elate
With victory, listened at their temple's gate.
And what was done within ?-Within, the light
Through the rich gloom of pictured windows flowing
Tinged with soft awfulness a stately sight-
The chivalry of France, their proud heads bowing
In martial vassalage! 2-while, midst that ring,
And shadowed by ancestral tombs, a king
Received his birthright's crown. For this the hymn
Swelled out like rushing waters, and the day,
With the sweet censer's misty breath, grew dim,
As through long aisles it floated o'er the array
Of arms and sweeping stoles.
And unapproached, beside the altar-stone,
With the white banner, forth, like sunshine, streaming,
And the gold helm, through clouds of fragrance gleaming,
Silent and radiant stood? The helm was raised,
And the fair face revealed, that upward gazed,
Intensely worshipping-a still, clear face,
Youthful, but brightly solemn! Woman's cheek
And brow were there, in deep devotion meek,
Yet glorified with inspiration's trace
On its pure paleness; while, enthroned above,
The pictured Virgin, with her smile of love,
1 Rheims, a city in the north of France, where Charles VII. was crowned.
2 Vǎs'sal age, the state of being a vassal, or one who holds lands of a superior, and vows fidelity to him.
Seemed bending o'er her votaress. That slight form,
Was that the leader through the battle storm?
Had the soft light in that adoring eye
Guided the warrior where the swords flashed high?
'Twas so, even so !—and thou, the shepherd's child,
Joanne, the lowly dreamer of the wild!
Never before, and never since that hour,
Hath woman, mantled with victorious power,
Stood forth as thou, beside the shrine, didst stand-
Holy amidst the knighthood of the land!
And, beautiful with joy and with renown,
Lift thy white banner o'er the olden crown,
Ransomed for France by thee!
The rites are done.
Now let the dome with trumpet notes be shaken,
And bid the echoes of the tombs awaken,
And come thou forth, that Heaven's rejoicing sun
May give thee welcome from thine own blue skies,
Daughter of victory! A triumphant strain,
A proud, rich stream of warlike melodies,
Gushed through the pōrtals of the antïque 1 fane,2
And forth she came. Then rose a nation's sound.
Oh! what a power to bid the quick heart bound,
The wind bears onward with the stormy cheer
Man gives to glory on her high career!
Is there indeed such power?-far deeper dwells
In one kind household voice, to reach the cells
Whence happiness flows forth.
The shouts that filled
The hollow heaven tempestuously, were stilled
One moment; and in that brief pause, the tone,
As of a breeze that o'er her home had blown,
Sank on the bright maid's heart-" Joanne !"—Who spoke, Like those whose childhood with her childhood grew Under one roof ?" Joanne !"-That murmur broke
With sounds of weeping forth!-she turned-she knew,
1 An tique', very old; ancient. 2 Fāne, a church; a temple.
Těm pěstu oùs ly, like a tempest; violently.
|