— “Ye heroes!” he cried, “that in danger arose,
The bulwark of friends and the terror of foes;
By ODIN with glory eternally crown’d;
By valour and virtue for ever renown’d;
like yours may my arm in the conflict be strong,
Like yours may my name be recorded in song,
And when HILDA and MISTA my spirit shall bear
The joys of VALHALLA and ODIN to share,
Oh then may you smile on the deeds I have done,
And bend forward with joy to acknowledge your son P
III.
The sword clatter’d fiercely on helm and on shield,
For NORWAY and LOCHLIN had met in the field j
The long lances shiver’d, the swift arrows flew,
The string shrilly twang’d on the flexible yew;
Kejoicing, the VALKYRÆ strode through the plain,
And guided the death-blow, and singled the slain.
Long, long did the virgins of LOCHLIN deplore
The youths whom their arms should encircle no more,
For, strong as the whirlwinds the forest that tear,
And strew with its boughs the vast bosom of air,
The NORWEYANS bore down with all-conquering force,
And havoc and slaughter attended their course.
FIOLFAR through danger triumphantly trod,
And scatter’d confusion and terror abroad;
Majestic as BALDER, tremendous as THOR,
He plung’d in the red-foaming torrent of war:
Through the thickest of battle he hasten’d at length
Where YRRODORE stood in the pride of his strength:
— “Turn, traitor!” he cried, “thy destruction is nigh!
Thy soul to the regions of HELA shall fly,
Where the base and the guilty for ever are toss’d
Through NILFHIL’S nine worlds of unchangeable frost!”
— “Vain boaster! no! never shall YRRODORE yield!” —
But the sword of FIOLFAR had shatter’d his shield:
Indignantly YRRODORE sprung on the foe,
And rear’d his strong arm for a death-dealing blow,
But the monarch of NORWAY impatiently press’d,
And sheath’d the bright steel in his enemy’s breast.
Swift flow’d the black blood, and in anguish he breath’d,.
Yet he mutter’d these words as expiring he writh’d:
— “And deem’st thou, FIOLFAR, the conquest is thine?
No! victory, glory, and vengeance, are mine!
In triumph I die; thou shalt languish in pain:
For ne’er shall NITALPHA delight thee again!
The wakeful DUERGI the caverns surround,
Where in magical slumbers the maiden is bound;
Those magical slumbers shall last till the day,
When ODIN shall summon thy spirit away:
Then, then shall she wake to remembrance and pain,.
To seek her FIOLFAR, and seek him in vain,
Long years of unvarying sorrow to prove,
And weep and lament on the grave of her love!” —
He said, and his guilt-blacken’d spirit went forth,
And rush’d to the caves of the uttermost north;
Still destin’d to roam through the frost-cover’d plain,
Where HELA has fix’d her inflexible reign,
Till the day when existence and nature shall end,
When the last fatal TWILIGHT on earth shall descend,
Wlien FENRIS and LOK, by all beings accurst,
Their long-galling chains shall indignantly burst,
When the trump of HEIMDALLER the signal shall peal
Of the evils CREATION is destin’d to feel,
And SURTUR shall scatter his ruin-fraught fire,
And earth, air, and ocean, burn, sink, and expire!
IV.
Now dreary and dark was the field of the dead,
For NORWAY had conquer’d, and LOCHLIN had fled:
The hoarse raven croak’d from the blood-streaming ground
Where the dead and the dying lay mingled around:
The warriors of NORWAY were sunk in repose,
And rush’d, in idea, again on their foes;
Yet lonely and sad did FIOLFAR remain
Where the monarch of LOCHLIN had fall’n on the plain;
In the silence of sorrow he lean’d on his spear,
For YRRODORE’S words echoed still in his ear:
When sudden, through twilight, again he descried
The sable-clad form standing tall by his side:
— “Behold me, Fiolfar: my promise I keep:
NIT ALPHA is fetter’d in magical sleep:
Yet I to thy arms can the maiden restore,
‘And passion and vengeance shall harm her no more.
The monarch of LOCHLIN, enrag’d at her scorn,
Confin’d her in DEURANIL’S caverns forlorn,
Nor dar’d he endeavour, though deeply he sigh’d,
By force to obtain what affection denied.” —
“Strange being! what art thou? thy nature declare.” —
— “The name of NERIMNHER from mortals I bear:
‘Mid desolate rocks, in a time-hollow’d cell,
At distance from man and his vices I dwell;
But, obedient to ODIN, I haste from the shade,
When virtue afflicted solicits my aid;
For the mystical art to my knowledge is giv’n,
That can check the pale moon as she rolls through the heav’n,
Can strike the dark dwellers of NILFHIL with dread,
And breathe the wild verse that awakens the dead.
My voice can the spells of thy rival destroy:
Then follow, FIOLFAR, I lead thee to joy!” —
As flow’d the deep accents mysterious and stem,
FIOLFAR felt hope to his bosom return;
He follow’d the stranger by vale and by flood,
Till they pierc’d the recesses of DEURANIL’S wood:
Through untrodden thickets of ash and of yew,
Whose close-twining boughs shut the sky from their view,.
Slow-toiling they wound, till before them arose
The black-yawning caves of NITALPHA’S repose.
A blue-burning vapour shone dim through the gloom,
And roll’d its thin curls round a rude-fashion’d tomb,
Where the weary DUERGI, by magic constrain’d,
With eyes never closing, their station maintain’d.
Loud shouting they rose when the strangers advanc’d,
But fear glaz’d their eyes, and they paus’d as entranc’d,
While the mighty NERIMNHER, in fate-favour’d hour,
Thus breath’d the strong spell that extinguish’d their pow’r;
— “By the hall of VALHALLA, where heroes repose,
And drink beer and mead from the skulls of their foes;
By the virtues of FREYER, and valour of THOR;
By the twelve giant-sisters, the rulers of war;
By the unreveal’d accents, in secret express’d,
Of old by VALFANDER to BALDER address’d;
By the ills which the guilty and dastardly share;
By HELA’S dominions of pain and despair;
By SURTU’S wide regions of death-spreading fire;
Hence, children of evil! DUERGI, retire!” —
The DUERGI with yells made the cavern resound,
As, reluctantly yielding, they sunk through the ground;
And the youth felt his breast with anxiety swell,
While thus the magician concluded the spell:
— “Fair maid, whom the tomb’s dreary confines surround,
Whom the dark, iron slumber of magic has bound,
Let life and delight re-illumine thine eyes,
Arise, star of beauty! NIT ALPHA, arise!” —
The vapou
r-flame died in a bright-beaming flash;
The tomb burst in twain with an earth-shaking crash;
All wonder, NITALPHA arose in her charms,
She knew her FIOLFAR, she flew to his arms,
And he found ev’ry shadow of sorrow depart,
As he clasp’d the dear maiden again to his heart.
HENRIETTE.
[Published in 1806.]
LOUD and long the church-bells ringing
Spread their signals on the air;
Tow’rds his ELLEN lightly springing,
Faithless EDWARD hastens there.
Can he dare to wed another?
Can he all his vows forget?
Can he truth and conscience smother,
And desert his HENRIETTE?
Pale remorse my steps attending, —
Whither can I hope to fly?
When shall all my woes have ending?
Never, never, till I die!
Can the youth who once ador’d me,
Can he hear without regret,
Death has that repose restor’d me,
He has stol’n from HENRIETTE?
Brightly smiles the summer morning
On my EDWARD’S nuptial day;
While the bells, with joyous warning,
Call to love and mirth away.
How this wretched heart is throbbing!
Ere the ev’ning sun shall set,
Death shall ease my bosom’s sobbing,
Death shall comfort HENRIETTE.
Cruel youth, farewell for ever!
False as thou hast been to me,
Ne’er till FATE my thread shall sever,
Can I turn my thoughts from thee.
Guilt and shame thy soul enslaving,
Thou mayst weep and tremble yet,
When thou seest the willow waving
O’er the grave of HENRIETTE!
THE OLD MAN’S COMPLAINT.
[Published in 1806.]
ON ETERNITY’S confines I stand,
And look back on the paths I have trod:
I pant for the summoning hand,
That shall call me away to my GOD!
My temples are sprinkled with snow;
The sands of existence decline;
The dwelling is cheerless and low,
The dwelling that soon must be mine.
No longer beside me are found
The forms that of old were so dear;
No longer the voices resound,
That once were so sweet to mine ear.
The wife of my bosom is lost;
Long, long, has she sunk into sleep:
My boy on the ocean was toss’d,
He rests in the caves of the deep.
A villain my daughter betray’d;
Her home and her father she fled:
But HEAV’N has in justice repaid
The tears he has caus’d me to shed:
Her peace and her honour he stole;
Abandon’d, despairing, she died:
Remorse quickly seiz’d on his soul,
And he rests in the grave by her side.
Oh! where are the friends of my youth,
The lovely, the good, and the brave?
All flown to the mansions of TRUTH!
All pass’d through the gates of the grave!
On parents, and children, and friends,
Have mortality’s arrows been driv’n;
But swiftly the darkness descends,
And my spirit shall join them in HEAV’N!
ON THE DEATH OF CHARLES PEMBROKE, ESQ.
[Published in 1806.]
WHERE you green tombs their heads promiscuous raise,
With tearful eyes let FRIENDSHIP mark the spot
Where PEMBROKE slumbers. Upright and sincere,
For public worth esteem’d, for private lov’d,
Approving VIRTUE smil’d upon his life,
And soft-eyed sorrow consecrates his urn.
Above that spot where rests his honour’d dust,
The sportive child may spend his idle hours,
Unthinking that the silent form below
Was once like him, like him was wont to play,
Unknown to care. Thrice happy innocent!
Thou too shalt fall, and on thy humble grave
Another child, unthinking as thyself,
Light as the lark, and rosy as the mom,
Shall frolic in his turn. Thus ’tis with man:
Like Autumn’s leaves the present race decays,
Another race succeeds. But after death
Shall VIRTUE live, and live to die no more,
In better climes, from mortal eyes retir’d.
There, PEMBROKE, there thy sainted spirit dwells,
In everlasting rest; there, far remov’d
From all the troubles of the world, enjoys
The sure reward of goodness here below,
Eternal, boundless happiness above.
THE RAINBOW.
[Published in 1806.]
THE day has pass’d in storms, though not unmix’d
With transitory calm. The western clouds,
Dissolving slow, unveil the glorious sun,
Majestic in decline. The wat’ry east
Glows with the many-tinted arch of HEAV’N.
We hail it as a pledge that brighter skies
Shall bless the coming morn. Thus rolls the day,
The short dark day of life; with tempests thus,
And fleeting sunshine chequer’d. At its close,
When the dread hour draws near, that bursts all ties,
All commerce with the world, RELIGION pours
HOPE’S fairy-colours on the virtuous mind,
And, like the rainbow on the ev’ning clouds,
Gives the bright promise that a happier dawn
Shall chase the night and silence of the grave.
ELLEN.
[Published in 1806.]
THE marble tomb, in sculptur’d state display’d,
Decks the vile earth where wealthy vice is laid;
But no vain pomp its hollow splendour throws,
Where Beauty, Virtue, Innocence, repose.
The cypress tow’rs, the waving willows weep,
Where ELLEN sleeps the everlasting sleep,
“Where with a sigh the passing stranger sees
th’e long rank grave-grass bending in the breeze.
FAREWELL TO MATILDA.
[Published in 1806.]
Oui, pour jamais
Chassons l’image
De la volage
Que j’adorais. — PARNY.
MATILDA, farewell! FATE has doom’d us to part,
But the prospect occasions no pang to my heart
No longer is love with my reason at strife,
Though once thou wert dearer, far dearer than life.
As together we roam’d, I the passion confess’d,
Which thy beauty and virtue had rais’d in my breast;
That the passion was mutual thou mad’st me believe,
And I thought my MATILDA could never deceive.
My MATILDA! no, false one! my claims I resign:
Thou canst not, thou must not, thou shalt not be mine:
I now scorn thee as much as I lov’d thee before,
Nor sigh when I think I shall meet thee no more.
Though fair be thy form, thou no lovers wilt find,
While folly and falsehood inhabit thy mind,
Though coxcombs may flatter, though idiots may prize,
Thou art shunn’d by the good, and contemn’d by the wise.
Than mine what affection more fervent could be,
When I thought ev’ry virtue was centred in thee?
Of the vows thou hast broken I will not complain,
For I mourn not the loss of a heart I disdain.
Oh! hadst thou but constant and amiable prov’d
As that fancied perfection I formerly lov’d,
Nor absence
, nor time, though supreme their control,
Could have dimm’d the dear image then stamp’d on my soul.
How bright were the pictures, untinted with shade,
By HOPE’S glowing pencil on FANCY pourtray’d!
Sweet visions of bliss! which I could not retain;
For they like thyself, were deceitful and vain.
Some other, perhaps, to MATILDA is dear,
Some other, more pleasing, though not more sincere;
May he fix thy light passions, now wav’ring as air,
Then leave thee, inconstant, to shame and despair!
Repent not, MATILDA, return not to me:
Unavailing thy grief, thy repentance will be:
In vain will thy vows or thy smiles be resum’d,
For LOVE, once extinguish’d, is never relum’d.
MIRA.
[Published in 1806.]
BENEATH you yew-tree’s silent shade,
Long, tufted grass the spot discloses
Where, low in death untimely laid,
Pale MIRA’S silent form reposes.
The plaintive bird, at ev’ning-close,
Pours there her softly-mournful numbers;
The earth its earliest sweets bestows,
To deck the grave where MIRA slumbers.
There SUMMER’S brightest flow’rs appear;
There oft the hollow breeze is swelling;
The passing stranger drops a tear
On MIRA’S dark and narrow dwelling.
The moralist, with musing eyes,
Loves there his pensive steps to measure:
“How vain is human pride!” he cries;
“How soon is lost each earthly treasure!
“To snatch the fleeting bubble, joy,
How weak is ev’ry fond endeavour!
We rush to seize the glitt’ring ‘toy;
It bursts, it vanishes for ever!
“How soon our pleasures pass away!
How soon our bliss must yield to sorrow!
The friend, with whom we smile to-day,
May wither in his shroud to-morrow!”
AMARILLIS.
FROM THE PASTOR FIDO.
[Published in 1806.]
(DUNQUE addio, care selve,
Care mie selve, addio.
Ricevete questi ultimi sospiri,
Fin che sciolta da ferro ingiusto, e crudo,
Torni la mia fredd’ ombra
A le vostr’ ombre amate.
Che nel penoso inferno
Non puo gir innocente,
Complete Works of Thomas Love Peacock Page 122
