The bloom, the eyes, the locks, the smile,
That never earth nor time could dim; -
Day grew more bright, and air more clear,
As Heaven itself were brought more near.—
And oh! his joy, who felt, the while,
That light but glowed for him
'My steed, my lance, vain Champion, now
To arms and Heaven defend the right!
Here spake the Queen, The strife is past,"
And in the Lists her glove she cast,
"And I myself will crown thy brow,
Thou love-defended Knight!"
He comes to claim the garland crown;
The changeful thousands shout his name;
And faithless beauty round him smiled,
How cold, beside the Forest's Child,
Who asked not love to bring renown,
And clung to love in shame!
He bears the prize to those dear feet:
"Not mine the guerdon! oh, not mine!"
Sadly the fated Fairy hears,
And smiles through unreproachful tears:
Nay, keep the flowers, and be they sweet
When I - no more am thine!"
She lowered the veil, she turned the rein,
And ere his lips replied was gone.
As on she went her charmed way,
No mortal dared the steps to stay;
And when she vanished from the plain
All space seemed left alone!
Oh, woe! that fairy shape no more
Shall bless thy love nor rouse thy pride!
He seeks the wood, he gains the spot
The Tree is there, the Fountain not;
its mirthful play is o'er.
Ah, where the Fairy-bride?
Alas, with fairies, as with men,
Who love are victims from the birth!
A fearful doom the fairy shrouds,
If once unveiled by day to crowds.
The Fountain vanished from the glen,
The Fairy from the earth!
How broad and bright athwart the wave,
Its steadfast light the Beacon gave!
Far beetling from the headland shore,
The rock behind, the surge before,
How lone and stern and tempest-seared,
Its brow to Heaven the turret reared!
Type of the glorious souls that are
The lamps our wandering barks to light,
With storm and cloud round every star,
The Fire-Guides of the Night'
How dreary was that solitude!
Around it screamed the sea-fowl's brood;
The only sound, amidst the strife
Of wind and wave, that spoke of life,
Except, when Heaven's ghost-stars were pale, The distant cry from hurrying sail.
the weeds had grown
O'er walls slow-rotting with the damp; And, with the weeds, decayed, alone, The Warder of the lamp.
But twice in every week from shore
Fuel and food the boatmen bore;
And then so dreary was the scene,
So wild and grim the warder's mien,
So many a darksome legend gave
Awe to that Tadmor of the wave,
That scarce the boat the rock could gain,
Scarce heaved the pannier on the stone,
Than from the rock and from the main
Th' unwilling life was gone.
A man he was whom man had driven
To loathe the earth and doubt the heaven;
A tyrant foe, (beloved in youth,)
Had called the law to crush the truth;
Stripped hearth and home, and left to shame
The broken heart the blackened name.
Dark exile from his kindred, then,
He hailed the rock, the lonely wild;
Upon the man at war with men
The frown of Nature smiled.
But suns on suns had rolled away;
The frame was bowed, the locks were gray; And the eternal sea and sky
Seemed one still death to that dead eye;
And Terror, like a spectre, rose
From the dull tomb of that repose.
No sight, no sound, of human-kind;
The hours, like drops upon the stone!
What countless phantoms man may find
In that dark word - -" ALONE!"
Dreams of blue Heaven and Hope can dwell
With Thraldom in its narrowest cell;
The airy mind may pierce the bars,
Elude the chain, and hail the stars:
Canst thou no drearier dungeon guess
In space, when space is loneliness?
The body's freedom profits none;
The heart desires an equal scope;
All nature is a gaol to one
Who knows nor love nor hope!
One day, all summer in the sky,
A happy crew came gliding by,
With songs of mirth, and looks of glee-
A human sunbeam o'er the sea!
"O Warder of the Beacon," cried
A noble youth, the helm beside,
"This summer-day how canst thou bear
To guard thy smileless rock alone,
And through the hum of Nature hear
No heart-beat save thine own?"
"I cannot bear to live alone,
To hear no heart-beat save my own;
Each moment, on this crowded earth,
The joy-bells ring some new-born birth;
Can ye not spare one form- but one,
The lowest-least beneath the sun,
To make the morning musical
With welcome from a human sound?”
Nay," spake the youth" and is that all?
Thy comrade shall be found."
The boat sailed on, and o'er the main
The awe of silence closed again;
But in the wassail hours of night,
When goblets go their rounds of light,
And in the dance, and by the side
Of her, yon moon shall mark his bride,
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