And now, my Lucy's way to cheer,
She bids Ben-Cruach's echoes hear
How closed the tale, my love whilere
Loved for its chivalry.
List how she tells, in notes of flame,
« Child Roland to the dark tower came!»
BEWCASTLE now must keep the hold, Speir-Adam's steeds must bide in stall, Of Hartley-burn the bowmen bold
Must only shoot from battled wall; And Liddesdale may buckle spur,
And Teviot now may belt the brand,
Tarras and Ewes keep nightly stir,
And Eskdale foray Cumberland.
Of wasted fields and plunder'd flocks
The Borderers bootless may complain; They lack the sword of brave De Vaux, There comes no aid from Triermain. That lord, on high adventure bound, Hath wander'd forth alone,
And day and night keeps watchful round In the valley of Saint John.
When first began his vigil bold,
The moon twelve summer nights was old,
And shone both fair and full;
High in the vault of cloudless blue,
O'er streamlet, dale, and rock, she threw
Her light composed and cool.
Stretch'd on the brown hill's heathy breast,
Sir Roland eyed the vale;
Chief, where, distinguish'd from the rest,
Those clustering rocks uprear'd their crest,
The dwelling of the fair distress'd,
As told gray Lyulph's tale.
Thus as he lay, the lamp of night
Was quivering on his armour bright,
In beams that rose and fell,
And danced upon his buckler's boss,
That lay beside him on the moss,
As on a crystal well.
Ever he watch'd, and oft he deem'd,
While on the mound the moon-light stream'd,
It alter'd to his eyes;
Fain would he hope the rocks 'gan change
To buttress'd walls their shapeless range,
Fain think, by transmutation strange,
He saw gay turrets rise.
But scarce his heart with hope throbb'd high,
Before the wild illusions fly,
Which fancy had conceived, Abetted by an anxious eye
That long'd to be deceived. It was a fond deception all, Such as, in solitary hall,
Beguiles the musing eye,
When, gazing on the sinking fire,
Bulwark and battlement and spire
In the red gulf we spy.
For seen, by moon of middle night,
Or by the blaze of noontide bright,
Or by the dawn of morning light,
Or evening's western flame, In every tide, at every hour, In mist, in sunshine, and in shower, The rocks remain'd the same.
Oft has he traced the charmed mound,
Oft climb'd its crest, or paced it round,
Yet nothing might explore,
Save that the crags so rudely piled,
At distance seen, resemblance wild
To a rough fortress bore.
Yet still his watch the warrior keeps,
Feeds hard and spare, and seldom sleeps,
And drinks but of the well;
Ever by day he walks the hill,
And when the evening gale is chill,
He seeks a rocky cell,
Like hermit poor to bid his bead,
And tell his ave and his creed,
Invoking every saint at need,
For aid to burst the spell.
And now the moon her orb has hid,
And dwindled to a silver thread,
Dim seen in middle heaven,
While o'er its curve careering fast,
Before the fury of the blast,
The midnight clouds are driven. The brooklet raved, for on the hills The upland showers had swoll'n the rills, And down the torrents came; Mutter'd the distant thunder dread, And frequent o'er the vale was spread A sheet of lightning flame.
De Vaux, within his mountain cave (No human step the storm durst brave), To moody meditation gave
Each faculty of soul,
Till, lull'd by distant torrent-sound, And the sad wind that whistled round, Upon his thoughts, in musing drown'd, A broken slumber stole.
To slander warrior were I loth,
Yet must I hold my minstrel troth,
It was a thought of fear.
But lively was the mingled thrill
That chased that momentary chill;
For love's keen wish was there,
And eager hope, and valour high,
And the proud glow of chivalry,
That burn'd to do and dare.
Forth from the cave the warrior rush'd,
Long ere the mountain-voice was hush'd,
That answer'd to the knell;
For long and far the unwonted sound,
Eddying in echoes round and round,
Was toss'd from fell to fell;
And Glaramara answer flung,
And Grisdale-pike responsive rung,
And Legbert heights their echoes swung,
As far as Derwent's dell.
Forth upon trackless darkness gazed
The knight, bedeafen'd and amazed,
Till all was hush'd and still,
Save the swoll'n torrent's sullen roar,
And the night-blast that wildly bore
Its course along the hill.
Then on the northern sky there came
A light, as of reflected flame,
And over Legbert-head,
As if by magic art controll'd,
A mighty meteor slowly roll'd
Its orb of fiery red;
Thou wouldst have thought some demon dire
Came mounted on that car of fire,
To do his errand dread.
Far on the sloping valley's course,
On thicket, rock, and torrent hoarse,
Shingle and scrae,' and fell and force,2
A dusky light arose :
Display'd, yet alter'd was the scene;
Dark rock, and brook of silver sheen,
E'en the gay thicket's summer green,
In bloody tincture glows.
De Vaux had mark'd the sun-beams set,
At eve, upon the coronet
Of that enchanted mound,
And seen but crags at random flung,
That, o'er the brawling torrent hung,
In desolation frown'd.
What sees he by that meteor's lour?-
A banner'd castle, keep, and tower,
Return the lurid gleam,
With battled walls and buttress fast,
And barbican 3 and ballium 4 vast,
And airy flanking towers, that cast
Their shadows on the stream.
'T is not deceit; distinctly clear
Bank of loose stones.
2 Water-fall.
3 The outer defence of the castle-gate.
Crenell and parapet appear,
While o'er the pile that meteor drear Makes momentary pause;
Then forth its solemn path it drew, And fainter yet and fainter grew Those gloomy towers upon the view, As its wild light withdraws.
Forth from the cave did Roland rush,
O'er crag and stream, through briar and bush;
Yet far he had not sped,
Ere sunk was that portentous light
Behind the hills, and utter night
Was on the valley spread.
He paused perforce,-and blew his horn;
And on the mountain-echoes borne
Was heard an answering sound,
A wild and lonely trumpet-note,—
In middle air it seem'd to float
High o'er the battled mound;
And sounds were heard, as when a guard
Of some proud castle holding ward,
Pace forth their nightly round.
The valiant Knight of Triermain
Rung forth his challenge-blast again,
But answer came there none;
And 'mid the mingled wind and rain,
Darkling he sought the vale in vain,
Until the dawning shone;
And when it dawn'd, that wond'rous sight,
Distinctly seen by meteor-light,
It all had pass'd away!
And that enchanted mound once more
A pile of granite fragments bore,
As at the close of day.
Steel'd for the deed, De Vaux's heart Scorn'd from his venturous quest to part,
He walks the vale once more;
But only sees, by night or day,
That shatter'd pile of rocks so gray,
Hears but the torrent's roar.
Till when, through hills of azure borne,
The moon renew'd her silver horn,
Just at the time her waning ray,
Had faded in the dawning day,
A summer mist arose;
Adown the vale the vapours float,
And cloudy undulations moat
That tufted mound of mystic note,
As round its base they close.
And higher now the fleecy tide
Ascends its stern and shaggy side,
Until the airy billows hide
The rock's majestic Isle ;
It seem'd a veil of filmy lawn,
By some fantastic fairy drawn
Around enchanted pile.
The breeze came softly down the brook, And, sighing as it blew,
1 Apertures for shooting arrows.
The veil of silver mist it shook,
And to De Vaux's eager look
Renew'd that wond'rous view,
For, though the loitering vapour braved
The gentle breeze, yet oft it waved
Its mantle's dewy fold; And still, when shook that filmy screen, Were towers and bastions dimly seen, And Gothic battlements between
Their gloomy length unroll'd. Speed, speed, De Vaux, ere on thine eye Once more the fleeting vision die!
-The gallant knight can speed
As prompt and light as, when the hound
Is opening, and the horn is wound,
Careers the hunter's steed.
Down the steep dell his course amain
Hath rivall'd archer's shaft;
But ere the mound he could attain,
The rocks their shapeless form regain,
And mocking loud his labour vain,
The mountain spirits laugh'd.
Far
up the echoing dell was borne
Their wild unearthly shout of scorn.
Wroth wax'd the warrior.-« Am I then
Fool'd by the enemies of men,
Like a poor hind, whose homeward way
Is haunted by malicious fay?
Is Triermain become your taunt,
De Vaux your scorn? False fiends, avaunt!»>
A weighty curtail-axe he bare;
The baleful blade so bright and square,
And the tough shaft of heben wood,
Were oft in Scottish gore embrued.
Backward his stately form he drew,
And at the rocks the weapon threw,
Just where one crag's projected crest
Hung proudly balanced o'er the rest.
Hurl'd with main force, the weapon's shock
Rent a huge fragment of the rock :
If by mere strength 't were hard to tell,
Or if the blow dissolved some spell,
But down the headlong ruin came,
With cloud of dust and flash of flame.
Down bank, o'er bush, its course was borne,
Crush'd lay the copse,
the earth was torn,
Till, staid at length, the ruin dread
Cumber'd the torrent's rocky bed,
And bade the waters' high-swoll'n tide
Seek other passage for its pride.
When ceased that thunder, Triermain
Survey'd the mound's rude front again;
And lo! the ruin had laid bare,
Hewn in the stone, a winding stair,
Whose moss'd and fractured steps might lend
The means the summit to ascend;
And by whose aid the brave De Vaux
Began to scale those magic rocks,
And soon a platform won,
Where, the wild witchery to close,
Within three lances' length arose
The Castle of St John!
No misty phantom of the air,
No meteor-blazon'd show was there;
In morning splendour, full and fair,
The massive fortress shone.
Embattled high and proudly tower'd,
Shaded by pond'rous flankers, lower'd
The portal's gloomy way.
Though for six hundred years and more,
Its strength had brook'd the tempest's roar,
The scutcheon'd emblems that it bore
Had suffer'd no decay;
But from the eastern battlement
A turret had made sheer descent,
And down in recent ruin rent,
In the mid torrent lay.
Else, o'er the castle's brow sublime,
Insults of violence or of time
Unfelt had pass'd away.
In shapeless characters of yore,
The gate this stern inscription bore:
Patience waits the destined day,
Strength can clear the cumber'd way,
Warrior, who hast waited long,
Firm of soul, of sinews strong,
It is given to thee to gaze
On the pile of ancient days.
Never mortal builder's hand
This enduring fabric plann'd;
Sign and sigil, word of power,
From the earth raised keep and tower.
View it o'er, and pace it round,
Rampart, turret, battled mound.
Dare no more! to cross the gate
Were to tamper with thy fate;
Strength and fortitude were vain!
View it o'er-and turn again.—
<< That would I,» said the warrior bold,
<«<< If that my frame were bent and old,
And my thin blood dropp'd slow and cold
As icicle in thaw;
But while my heart can feel it dance
Blithe as the sparkling wine of France,
And this good arm wields sword or lance,
I mock these words of awe!»
He said; the wicket felt the sway
Of his strong hand, and straight gave way,
And with rude crash and jarring bray,
The rusty bolts withdraw;
But o'er the threshold as he strode,
And forward took the vaulted road,
An unseen arm with force amain
The ponderous gate flung close again,
And rusted bolt and bar
Spontaneous took their place once more,
While the deep arch with sullen roar
Return'd their surly jar.
<< Now closed is the gin, and the prey within, By the rood of Lanercost!
But he that would win the war-wolf's skin
May rue him of his boast.>>Thus muttering, ou the warrior went, By dubious light down steep descent.
Unbarr'd, unlock'd, unwatch'd, a port
Led to the castle's outer court:
There the main fortress, broad and tall,
Spread its long range of bower and hall,
And towers of varied size,
Wrought with each ornament extreme,
That Gothic art, in wildest dream
Of fancy, could devise.
But full between the warrior's way
And the main portal-arch, there lay
An inner moat;
Nor bridge nor boat
Affords De Vaux the means to cross
The clear, profound, and silent fosse.
His arms aside in haste he flings,
Cuirass of steel and hauberk rings,
And down falls helm and down the shield,
Rough with the dints of many a field.
Fair was his manly form, and fair
His keen dark eye, and close-curl'd hair,
When,-all unarm'd, save that the brand
Of well-proved metal graced his hand,
With nought to fence his dauntless breast
But the close gipon's under-vest,
Whose sullied buff the sable stains
Of hauberk and of mail retains,—
Roland De Vaux upon the brim
Of the broad moat stood prompt to swim.
Accoutred thus he dared the tide,
And soon he reach'd the farther side,
And enter'd soon the hold,
And paced a hall, whose walls so wide
Were blazon'd all with feats of pride,
By warriors done of old.
In middle lists they counter'd here,
While trumpets seem'd to blow;
And there, in den or desert drear,
They quell'd gigantic foe,
Braved the fierce griffon in his ire,
Or faced the dragon's breath of fire.
Strange in their arms, and strange in face,
Heroes they seem'd of ancient race,
Whose deeds of arms, and race,
Forgotten long by later fame,
Were here depicted to appal
Those of an age degenerate,
Whose bold intrusion braved their fate,
In this enchanted hall.
For some short space the venturous knight
With these high marvels fed his sight;
Then sought the chamber's upper end,
Where three broad easy steps ascend
To an arch'd portal door,
In whose broad-folding leaves of state
Was framed a wicket window-grate;
And, ere he ventured more,
1 A sort of doublet, worn beneath the armour.
Each maiden's short barbaric vest
Left all unclosed the knee and breast,
And limbs of shapely jet;
White was their vest and turban's fold,
On arms and ancles rings of gold
In savage pomp were set;
A quiver on their shoulders lay
And in their hand an assagay.
Such and so silent stood they there,
That Roland well nigh hoped
He saw a band of statues rare,
Station'd the gazer's soul to scare;
But, when the wicket oped,.
Each grisly beast 'gan upward draw,
Roll'd his grim eye, and spread his claw,
Scented the air, and lick'd his jaw!
While these weird maids, in Moorish tongue,
A wild and dismal warning sung.
<< Rash adventurer, bear thee back! Dread the spell of Dahomay! Fear the race of Zaharak, Daughters of the burning day!
« When the whirlwind's gusts are wheeling,
Ours it is the dance to braid;
Zarah's sands, in pillars reeling,
Join the measure that we tread;
When the moon hath don'd her cloak,
And the stars are red to see,
Shrill when pipes the sad siroc,
Music meet for such as we.
« Where the shatter'd columns lie, Showing Carthage once had been, If the wandering santon's eye
Our mysterious rites hath seen,— Oft he cons the prayer of death, To the nations preaches doom, 'Azrael's brand hath left the sheath! Moslems think upon the tomb!'
<< Ours the scorpion, ours the snake, Ours the hydra of the fen, Ours the tiger of the brake,
All that plagues the sons of men. Ours the tempest's midnight wrack, Pestilence that wastes by day
Dread the race of Zabarak!
Fear the spell of Dahomay!»
Uncouth and strange the accents shrill
Rung those vaulted roofs among;
Long it was ere, faint and still,
Died the far-resounding song.
While yet the distant echoes roll,
The warrior communed with his soul.
« When first I took this venturous quest,
I swore upon the rood,
Neither to stop, nor turn, nor rest,
For vil or for good.
My forward path, too well I ween,
Lies yonder fearful ranks between;
For man unarm'd, 't is bootless hope
With tigers and with fiends to cope-
Yet, if I turn, what waits me there,
Save famine dire and fell despair?—
Other conclusion let me try,
Since, chuse howe'er I list, I die.
Forward, lies faith and knightly fame;
Behind, are perjury and shame.
In life or death I hold iny word.».
With that he drew his trusty sword,
Caught down a banner from the wall,
And enter'd thus the fearful hall.
On high each wayward maiden threw
Her swarthy arm, with wild halloo !
On either side a tiger sprung-
Against the leftward foe he flung
The ready banner, to engage
With tangling folds the brutal rage;
The right-hand monster in mid air
He struck so fiercely and so fair,
Through gullet and through spinal bone
The trenchant blade hath sheerly gone.
His grisly brethren ramp'd and yell'd,
But the slight leash their rage withheld,
Whilst, 'twixt their ranks, the dangerous road
Firmly, though swift, the champion strode.
Safe to the gallery's bound he drew,
Safe pass'd an open portal through;
And when 'gainst followers he flung
The gate, judge if the echoes rung!
Onward his daring course he bore,
While, mix'd with dying growl and roar,
Wild jubilee and loud hurra
Pursued him on his venturous way.
<< Hurra, hurra! Our watch is done! We hail once more the tropic sun. Pallid beams of northern day, Farewell, farewell! Hurra, hurra!
<< Five hundred years o'er this cold glen
Bath the pale sun come round agen;
Foot of man, till now, hath ne'er
Dared to cross the Hall of Fear.
<< Warrior! thou, whose dauntless heart Gives us from our ward to part,
Be as strong in future trial, Where resistance is denial.
« Now for Afric's glowing sky, Zwenga wide and Atlas high, Zaharak and Dahomay!
Mount the winds! Hurra, hurra!»>
The wizard song at distance died
As if in ether borne astray,
While through waste halls and chambers wide
The knight pursued his steady way,
Till to a lofty dome he came,
That flash'd with such a brilliant flame,
As if the wealth of all the world
Were there in rich confusion hurl'd.
For here the gold, in sandy heaps,
With duller earth incorporate sleeps;
Was there in ingots piled, and there
Coin'd badge of empery it bare:
Yonder huge bars of silver lay,
Dimm'd by the diamond's neighbouring ray,
Like the pale moon in morning day;
And in the midst four maidens stand,
The daughters of some distant land.
Their hue was of the dark-red dye
That fringes oft a thunder sky,
Their hands palmetto baskets bare,
And cotton fillets bound their hair;
Slim was their form, their mien was shy,
To earth they bent the humbled eye,
Folded their arms, and suppliant kneel'd,
And thus their proffer'd gifts reveal'd.
<< See the treasures Merlin piled,
Portion meet for Arthur's child.
Bathe in Wealth's unbounded stream,
Wealth that Avarice ne'er could dream!»>
«See these clots of virgin gold! Sever'd from the sparry mould, Nature's mystic alchemy
In the mine thus bade them lie; And their orient smile can win Kings to stoop, and saints to sin.»—
<< See these pearls that long have slept; These were tears by Naiads wept For the loss of Marinel.
Tritons in the silver shell
Treasured them, till hard and white
As the teeth of Amphitrite.»-
« Does a livelier hue delight?
Here are rubies blazing bright,
Here the emerald's fairy green,
And the topaz glows between;
Here their varied hues unite
In the changeful chrysolite.»>-
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