Hath coexistence with the House of Avenel,
And with the star that rules it.

Look on my girdle

on this thread of gold

'T is fine as web of lightest gossamer,

And, but there is a spell on 't, would not bind,
Light as they are, the folds of my thin robe.
But when 't was donned, it was a massive chain,
Such as might bind the champion of the Jews,
Even when his locks were longest; it hath dwindled,
Hath 'minished in its substance and its strength,

As sunk the greatness of the House of Avenel.
When this frail thread gives way, I to the elements
Resign the principles of life they lent me.

Ask me no more of this!

the stars forbid it.

Dim burns the once bright star of Avenel,

Dim as the beacon when the morn is nigh,
And the o'er-wearied warder leaves the lighthouse;
There is an influence sorrowful and fearful,

That dogs its downward course. Disastrous passion,
Fierce hate and rivalry, are in the aspect

That lowers upon its fortunes.

Complain not on me, child of clay,

If to thy harm I yield the way.

We, who soar thy sphere above,
Know not aught of hate or love;
As will or wisdom rules thy mood,
My gifts to evil turn, or good.
When Piercie Shafton boasteth high,
Let this token meet his eye.

The sun is westering from the dell,

Thy wish is granted - fare thee well!

VIII

TO THE SAME

From Chapter xx

HE, whose heart for vengeance sued,

Must not shrink from shedding blood;

The knot that thou hast tied with word,
Thou must loose by edge of sword.

You have summoned me once, you have summoned me

twice,

And without e'er a summons I come to you thrice;

Unasked for, unsued for, you came to my glen,

Unsued and unasked, I am with you again.

IX

TO MARY AVENEL

From Chapter xxx

MAIDEN, whose sorrows wail the Living Dead,

Whose eyes shall commune with the Dead Alive, Maiden, attend! Beneath my foot lies hid

The Word, the Law, the Path which thou dost strive To find, and canst not find. Could Spirits shed

Tears for their lot, it were my lot to weep,

Showing the road which I shall never tread,
Though my foot points it. Sleep, eternal sleep,

Dark, long, and cold forgetfulness my lot!

But do not thou at human ills repine;

Secure there lies full guerdon in this spot

For all the woes that wait frail Adam's line

Stoop, then, and make it yours, I may not make it

mine!

X

TO EDWARD GLENDINNING

From Chapter XXXII

THOU who seek'st my fountain lone,

With thoughts and hopes thou dar'st not own;

Whose heart within leaped wildly glad,

When most his brow seemed dark and sad;

Hie thee back, thou find'st not here
Corpse or coffin, grave or bier;

The Dead Alive is gone and fled:

Go thou and join the Living Dead!

The Living Dead, whose sober brow
Oft shrouds such thoughts as thou hast now,
Whose hearts within are seldom cured
Of passions by their vows abjured;

Where, under sad and solemn show,
Vain hopes are nursed, wild wishes glow.
Seek the convent's vaulted room,
Prayer and vigil be thy doom:
Doff the green, and don the grey,
To the cloister hence away!

XI

THE WHITE LADY'S FAREWELL

From Chapter XXXVII

FARE thee well, thou holly green.

Thou shalt seldom now be seen,

With all thy glittering garlands bending,

As to greet my slow descending,

Startling the bewildered hind,

Who sees thee wave without a wind.

Farewell, fountain! now not long

Shalt thou murmur to my song,
While thy crystal bubbles, glancing,
Keep the time in mystic dancing,
Rise and swell, are burst and lost,
Like mortal schemes by fortune crossed.

The knot of fate at length is tied,
The churl is lord, the maid is bride!
Vainly did my magic sleight
Send the lover from her sight;
Wither bush, and perish well,
Fallen is lofty Avenel!