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 S A M O R, 
 
 LORD OF THE BRIGHT CITY. 
 
 AN HEROIC POEM. 
 
 BY 
 
 THE REV. H. H. MILMAN, M. A. 
 
 FELLOW OF BRAZENOSE COLLEGE, OXFORD, 
 
 AND 
 
 VICAR OF ST. MARYX READING 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 LONDON 
 
 JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE-STREET. 
 
 1818.
 
 Loud m : Printed by W. Bulmer and Co. 
 Cleveland Row, St James's.
 
 Stack 
 Annex 
 
 \os 
 
 et o ! modo spiritus adsit, 
 
 Frangam Saxonicas Britonmn sub Marte phalanges. 
 
 Milton. Mamus. 
 
 the better fortitude 
 
 Of patience and heroic martyrdom. 
 
 Milton's Par. Lost, Book IX.
 
 M*i
 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THE Historians* of the Empire near the period 
 of time, at which this Poem commences, make 
 mention of a Constantine, who assumed the 
 purple of the western empire, gained possession 
 of Gaul and Spain, but was defeated and slain 
 at the battle of Aries. He had a son named 
 Constans, who became a monk, and was put to 
 death at Vienne. 
 
 4 
 
 About the same time a Constantine appears 
 in the relations of the old British Chronicles 
 and Romances. He was brother of the king of 
 Armorica, and became himself King, or rather 
 
 * Gibbon, Chap. 31.
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 an elected sovereign of the petty Kings of Bri- 
 tain,* who continued their succession under 
 the Roman dominion. He was called Vendi- 
 gard t and Waredur, the Defender and Deli- 
 verer. He had three sons, Constans, who be- 
 came a hermit, and was murthered, either (for 
 the traditions vary) by the Picts, by Vortigern, 
 or by the Saxons ; Emrys, called by the Latin 
 writers Aurelius Ambrosius ; and Uther Pen* 
 dragon, the father of Arthur. These two Con- 
 stantines are here identified, and Vortigern sup- 
 posed to have been named King of Britain, as 
 the person of greatest authority and conduct in 
 the wreck of the British army, defeated at Aries. 
 Many, however, of the chiefs in the Island 
 advancing the hereditary right, before formally 
 settled on the sons of Constantine, Vortigern, 
 mistrusting the Britons., and prest by invasions 
 of the Caledonians, introduced the Saxons to 
 check the barbarians and strengthen his own 
 
 sovereignty. 
 
 * Whitaker, Hist, of Manchester, 
 f Lewis, Hist, of Britain.
 
 PREFACE. Vll 
 
 The Hero of the Poem is an historical 
 character, as far as such legends can be 
 called History. He appears in most of the 
 Chronicles, as Edol, or Eldol, but the fullest 
 account of his exploits is in Dugdale's Baro- 
 nage under his title of Earl of Gloucester. 
 
 o 
 
 William Harrison, however, in the Description 
 of Britain prefixed to Holinshed, calls him 
 Eldulph de Samor. But all concur in ascribing 
 to him the acts which make the chief subject of 
 the fifth and last Books of this Poem. 
 
 Most of our present names of places being 
 purely Saxon, and the old British having little 
 of harmony or association to recommend them, 
 I have frequently, on the authority of Camden 
 and others, translated them. Thus the Saxon 
 Gloucester, called by the Britons, Caer Gloew, 
 is the Bright City. The Dobuni, the inhabi- 
 tants of the Vales, are called by that name. 
 Some few sanctioned by old usage of Poetry 
 arid Romance I retain, as Kent, Thanet, Corn- 
 wall. London is Troyuovant, as the City of 
 the Trinobantes.
 
 VIII PREFACE. 
 
 Some passages in the Poem will be easily 
 traced to their acknowledged sources, the 
 Poets of Greece and Italy ; one however, in the 
 third book, relating to the Northern mythology, 
 has been remarkably anticipated in a modern 
 Poem. The honourable Author may be assured 
 that the coincidence is unintentional, as that 
 part of this Poem was the earliest written, and 
 previous to the appearance of his production.
 
 SAMOR. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 LAND of my birth, oh Britain ! and my love, 
 
 Whose air I breathe, whose earth I tread, whose tongue 
 
 My song would speak, its strong and solemn tones 
 
 Most proud, if I abase not. Beauteous Isle, 
 
 And plenteous ! what though in thy atmosphere 5 
 
 Float not the taintless luxury of light, 
 
 The dazzling azure of the Southern skies ; 
 
 Around thee the rich orb of thy renown 
 
 Spreads stainless and unsullied by a cloud. 
 
 Though thy hills blush not with the purple vine, 10 
 
 And softer climes excel thee in the hue 
 
 B
 
 2 SAMOR, LORD OF [fiOOK I. 
 
 And fragrance of thy summer fruits and flowers, 
 
 Nor flow thy rivers over golden beds ; 
 
 Thou in^he Soul of man, thy better wealth, 
 
 Art richest : nature's noblest produce thou, 1 5 
 
 The immortal Mind in perfect height and strength, 
 
 Bear'st with a prodigal opulence ; this thy right, 
 
 Thy privilege of climate and of soil, 
 
 Would I assert : nor, save thy fame, invoke, 
 
 Or Nymph, or Muse, that oft 'twas dream'd of old 20 
 
 By falls of waters under haunted shades, 
 
 Her extacy of inspiration pour"d 
 
 O'er Poet's soul, and flooded all his powers 
 
 With liquid glory : so may thy renown 
 
 Burn in my heart, and give to thought and word 
 
 The aspiring and the radiant hue of fire. 25 
 
 Forth from the gates of Troynovant hath past 
 King Vortigern ; the Princes of the Isle 
 Around him ; on the walls, for then (though now 
 Scorn bounds her mighty wilderness of streets, 
 And in magnificence of multitude 30 
 
 Spread, and illimitable grandeur,) walls 
 With jealous circuit and embattled range
 
 BOOK I.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 3 
 
 Girt Britain's narrow Capital ; where swarm'd 
 
 Eager her wondering citizens to see 
 
 The Monarch. Him the Saxon Hengist met, 35 
 
 And Horsa, with their bands in triumph led, 
 
 As from a recent victory ; their blue eyes 
 
 Sparkled, and proud they shook their saffron hair ; 
 
 And in the bicker of their spears, the toss 
 
 Of ponderous mallets, the quick flash of swords, 40 
 
 Th' emblazoned White Horse on their banners waved, 
 
 Was triumph. Thus King Vortigern began : 
 
 " Welcome, Deliverers ! of our kingdom's foes, 
 Welcome, thrice-honour'd Conquerors ! never more 
 Shall painted Caledonian o'er our realm 45 
 
 The chariots of his rapine wheel, so full 
 The desolation, havoc so complete 
 Hath smote and blasted in Erie Hengist's path. 
 The mouldering ruins of our Roman wall, 
 Leagued with the terror of the Saxon name, 50 
 
 Shall be defence more mighty, than when soared 
 Its battlements unbroken, and above 
 The imperial Eagle shook its wings of gold. 
 Oh, toil'd with victory, burthen'd with renown,
 
 4 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK I. 
 
 For ye our baths float cool and clear, our air 55 
 
 Is redolent with garland wreathes, and rich 
 
 Within our royal citadel is crown'd 
 
 For ye the banquet ; welcome once again, 
 
 Mighty to save, and potent to defend ! " 
 
 A faint acclaim, a feeble sullen din 60 
 
 Ensued, with less of gladness than fierce grief, 
 
 And wrath ill stifled. Seeming all unmoved, 
 
 Elate the Monarch onward led the way ; 
 
 Slow followed Saxon Hengist's martial train, 
 
 Clashing their armour loud, as they would daunt 65 
 
 All Britain with the clamour : march"d behind 
 
 The island Nobles, save some restless hands 
 
 Were busy with their sheathed swords, they mov'd 
 
 Silent, and cold, and gloomy, as a range 
 
 Of mountain pines, when cloudy lowers the storm. 70 
 
 Upon the azure bosom of the Thames 
 Reclining, with its ponderous mass of shade, 
 Arose the royal Citadel, the work 
 Of the great Caesar. Danger he and dread 
 Of Rome and Pompey ; yet 'gainst savage foes 75 
 
 Vantage of trench and tower and massy wall
 
 BOOK I.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 5 
 
 Scorn'd not, so swift, so perilous, so fierce 
 
 Cassivelan his painted charioteers 
 
 WhiiTd to the frantic onset, standing forth 
 
 Portent of freedom mid a world enslaved. 80 
 
 They passed the portal arch; the sumptuous hall 
 Flung back its gates ; around the banquet board 
 Rang'd Prince and Chieftain, where luxurious art 
 Shower'd prodigal her dainties, poisons sweet, 
 And baleful splendour. Fierce the Saxon gaz'd 85 
 On goblet, and huge charger carved with gold, 
 Contemptuous wonder. But the Monarch's brow 
 "Gan lighten, as with greedy joy he quafFd 
 Oblivious bliss ; thus ever guilty soul 
 Woos frenzy, and, voluptuous from despair, 90 
 
 Forgets itself to pleasure. High aloof, 
 Each in his azure robe, the band of Bards 
 Mingled the wanton luxuries of sound ; 
 Gentle melodious languor, melting fall, 
 With faint effeminate flattery the soul 95 
 
 Guiling of manhood. Silent veil'd his harp 
 White-hairVl Aneurin, and indignant tears 
 Stood in the old man's eye, for wrathful shame
 
 6 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK I. 
 
 To hear his godlike and heaven-breathing art 
 Pampering loose revels with officious chime. 100 
 
 Then rose the glorious madness ; forth he sprung, 
 With one rude stroke along the clashing chords 
 Won silence deep as of a summer eve 
 After a noontide storm ; his silver locks 
 Wav'd proud, the kindling frenzy of his eye 1 05 
 
 Flashed triumph, as the song of Chariots rose. 
 The song that o'er the van of battle showered 
 Pale horror, when that scourg'd Icenian Queen 
 Through the square legions drove her car ; were heard 
 Her brazen wheels to madden, the keen scythes 110 
 Gride through their iron harvest ; then rush'd route, 
 WaiPd havoc ; seem'd Bonduca fiercer urg'd 
 The trampling steeds ; behind her silence sank 
 Along the dreary path of her revenge. 
 
 Ceas"d the bold strain, then deep the Saxon drain'd 
 
 The ruddy cup, and savage joy uncouth 1 1 6 
 
 i 
 Lit his blue gleaming eyes : nor sate unmoved 
 
 The Briton Chiefs ; fierce thoughts began to rise 
 
 Of ancient wars, and high ancestral fame. 
 
 Sudden came floating through the hall an air 120
 
 BOOK I.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 7 
 
 So strangely sweet, the overwrought sense scarce felt 
 
 Its rich excess of pleasure ; softer sounds 
 
 Melt never on the enchanted midnight cool, 
 
 By haunted spring, where elfin dancers trace 
 
 Green circlets on the moonlight dews ; nor lull 125 
 
 Becalmed mariner from rocks, where basks 
 
 At summer noon the. Sea-maid ; he his oar 
 
 Breathless suspends, and motionless his bark 
 
 Sleeps on the sleeping waters. Now the notes 
 
 So gently died away, the silence seem'd 130 
 
 Melodious ; merry now and light and blithe 
 
 They danced on air : anon came tripping forth 
 
 In frolic grace a maiden troop, their locks 
 
 Flower-wreath'd, their snowy robes from clasped zone 
 
 Fell careless drooping, quick their glittering feet 135 
 
 Glanc'd o^er the pavement. Then the pomp of sound 
 
 SwelPd up, and mounted ; as the stately swan, 
 
 Her milk-white neck embower'd in arching spray, 
 
 Queens it along the waters, entered in 
 
 The lofty hall a shape so fair, it lull'd 140 
 
 The music into silence, yet itself 
 
 Poured out, prolonging the soft extacy,
 
 ^8 SAMOR, LORD OF [fiOOK I. 
 
 The trembling and the touching of sweet sound. 
 Her grace of motion and of look, the smooth 
 And swimming majesty of step and tread, 145 
 
 The symmetry of form and feature, set 
 The soul afloat, even like delicious airs 
 Of flute or harp : as though she trod from earth, 
 And round her wore an emanating cloud 
 Of harmony, the Lady mov'd. Too proud 150 
 
 For less than absolute command, too soft 
 For aught but gentle amorous thought : her hair 
 Clustered, as from an orb of gold cast out 
 A dazzling and overpowering radiance, save 
 Here and there on her snowy neck repos'd 
 In a sooth'd brilliance some thin wandering tress. 155 
 The azure flashing of her eye was fring'd 
 With virgin meekness, and her tread, that seemed 
 Earth to disdain, as softly fell on it 
 As the light dew-shower on a tuft of flowers. 
 The soul within seem'd feasting on high thoughts, 1 60 
 That to the outward form and feature gave 
 A loveliness of scorn, scorn that to feel 
 Was bliss, was sweet indulgence. Fast sank bank
 
 BOOK I.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 
 
 Those her fair harbingers, their modest eyes, 
 
 Downcast, and drooping low their slender necks 
 
 In graceful reverence ; she, by wond'ring gaze 
 
 Unmov'd, and stifled murmurs of applause, 
 
 Nor yet unconscious, slowly won her way 
 
 To where the King, amid the festal pomp, 
 
 Sate loftiest ; as she rais'd a fair-chas'd cup, 170 
 
 Something of sweet confusion overspread 
 
 Her features ; something tremulous broke in 
 
 On her half-failing accents as she said, 
 
 & Health to the King!" the sparkling wine laugh'd up, 
 
 As eager 'twere to touch so fair a lip. 175 
 
 A moment, and the apparition bright 
 Had parted ; as before the sound of harps 
 Was wantoning about the festive hall. 
 
 As one just waking from a blissful dream 
 Nor moves, nor breathes, lest breath or motion break 180 
 The beauteous tissue of fine form woven o'er 
 His fancy, sate King Vortigern. " Whence came, 
 And whither went she ? of what race and stem 
 Sprang this bright wonder of our earth, that leaves 
 The rapture of her presence in our hall, 185
 
 10 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK I. 
 
 Though parted thence too swiftly ? " " King (replied 
 
 Erie Hengist) in our ancient Saxon faith, 
 
 111 bodes the joyless feast, where maiden's lips 
 
 Pledge not the wassail goblet." " By my soul,"" 
 
 Cried Vortigern, " a gallant faith ! and I 190 
 
 Omen so sweet discredit not ; the health 
 
 Those smooth lips wish'd me, well those lips might give, 
 
 A fragrance and a sparkling have they left 
 
 Even on the wine they touch'd." He said, and prest 
 
 The goblet to his own. " A father's ear, 195 
 
 King Vortigern, must love the flattering tongue 
 
 That descants lavish on his daughter's praise." 
 
 " Thy daughter ? Saxon !" " Mine, though vaunt not I 
 
 Her beauty, many a German Erie and King 
 
 Hath vow'd at his life's peril to proclaim 200 
 
 Her far-surpassing comeliness." None heard 
 
 The secret converse that ensued. Lo, rose 
 
 King Vortigern, and from his brow transferr'd 
 
 A coronet of radiant Eastern gems 
 
 To the white hair of Hengist, and drank off 205 
 
 A brimming cup, and cried, " To Kent's high King, 
 
 A health, a health to Vortigern's fair bride,
 
 BOOK I.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 11 
 
 The golden-hairU Rowena." Seized at once 
 Each Saxon the exulting strain, and struck 
 The wine-drain'd goblet down, " Health, King of Kent ! " 
 As mid the fabled Libyan bridal stood 21 1 
 
 Perseus, in stern tranquillity of wrath, 
 
 ii/rrrn m ~s< -J** TO 
 
 Half stood, half floated on his ancle plumes 
 
 Out-swelling, while the bright face on his shield 
 
 Look'd into stone the raging fray; so rose, 215 
 
 But with no magic arms, wearing alone 
 
 Th n appalling and control of his firm look, 
 
 The solemn indignation of his brow, 
 
 The Briton Samor ; at his rising, awe 
 
 Went abroad, and the riotous hall was mute ; 220 
 
 But like unruffled summer waters flow'd 
 
 His speech, and courtly reverence smooth'd its tone. 
 
 " Sovereign of Britain's Sovereigns ! of our crowns 
 The highest ! in our realm of many thrones 
 Enthroned the loftiest ! mighty as thou art, 225 
 
 Thou dost outstep thy amplitude of sway ; 
 Thine is our isle to govern not to give ; 
 A free and sacred property hast thou 
 In our allegiance ; for a master's right
 
 12 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK I. 
 
 Over our lives, our princedoms, and our souls, 280 
 
 King Vortigern. as well mayst thou presume 
 To a dominion o'er our winds, to set 
 Thy stamp and impress on our light from heaven. 
 This Britain cannot rest beneath the shade , ; 
 Of Saxon empire, this our Christian soil 235 
 
 The harvest of obedience will not bear 
 To Heathen sway ; and hear me, Vortigern, 
 The golden image that thou settest up, 
 Like the pride-drunken Babylonian king, 
 Though dulcimer and psaltery soothe us down 240 
 
 To the soft humour of submission tame, 
 We will not worship."" From the hall he past, 
 Thus saying. Him the Island's brave and proud 
 Followed, the high and fame-enamour'd souls, 
 Never to Britain wanting, though in hours 245 
 
 Loosest of revels soft, and wanton ease. 
 But Vortigern, more largely pouring in 
 The vine's delicious poison, sate, and cried, 
 " Whom the flax binds not, must the iron gyve, 
 Whom sceptres daunt not, must the sword control/' 
 Evening fell gentle, and the brilliant sun 25 1
 
 BOOK I.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 13 
 
 Was going down into the waveless Thames, 
 
 As bearing light and warmth to her cold Nymphs 
 
 Within their crystal chambers, when the King 
 
 Left the hall of banquet. Lofty and alone, 255 
 
 Even as the Pillar great Alcides set, 
 
 The limit of the world and his renown, 
 
 On Calpe, round whose shaft the daylight wreathed 
 
 Its last empurpling, on the battlements 
 
 Stood Samor in the amethystine light, 260 
 
 And " Go to darkness, thou majestic orb ! 
 
 To-morrow shall the nations bask again 
 
 In thy full glory." Thus he said, and turn'd 
 
 To where the King went rapid past. " And thou, 
 
 Thou to thy setting hastest, never more 265 
 
 Thou thy benighted splendour to renew ; 
 
 Late at thy noon of pride, now sunk, declined 
 
 For ever from thy fair meridian go, 
 
 Into thy cloudy rest ! " The solemn tone 
 
 Of his deep voice seized on the King, as frosts 270 
 
 Arrest the rapid flowing stream. " What means 
 
 The Sovereign of the Vales, even in my halls, 
 
 And on my castle battlements, to cast
 
 14 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK I, 
 
 Bold scorn on Britain's King ? Ingrate and blind, 
 
 When I the valiant Saxon have brought in 275 
 
 To check the Caledonian, through your isle 
 
 Marching by wild light of your burning towns ; 
 
 Ye, wedded to your sorrow and your shame, 
 
 Mock at the safety my free love provides." 
 
 " Ah, provident ! ah, sage ! ah, generous King ! 
 
 That sets the emaciate wolf to dog the flock ; 
 
 The hawk to guard the dovecote." " Wise-lipp'd chief, 
 
 I thank thee for thy phrase : doves are ye, doves 
 
 That fly with piteous and most delicate speed 
 
 Before the Scottish kites, that swoop your nests, 285 
 
 And flesh their greedy talons in your young. 1 " 
 
 " Monarch ! the eaglet, were it smoothly nurst 
 
 In the dove's downy nest, at its first flight 
 
 Would shrink down dazzled from the morning sun ; 
 
 But with strong plumes refreshed, anon 'twould claim 
 
 Its old aspiring birthright, and unblench'd 291 
 
 Bathe in the bickering of the noontide car. 
 
 Oh, we have slumber'd on soft luxury's lap 
 
 To her loose tabret; but, misjudging King ! 
 
 Britain is like her soil ; above the turf 2i>5
 
 BOOK I.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 15 
 
 Lies velvet smooth, hard iron lurks beneath. 
 
 I know the northern Pagans waste our land, 
 
 And the tame mission to the Roman sent 
 
 I know, ' The fierce Barbarian to the sea 
 
 Drives us, the sea to the Barbarian back 300 
 
 Merciless' : so ran the plaintive legend. True ! 
 
 But soldiers would it cast us back ; despair 
 
 Hath its own valour ; war makes warriors. King ! 
 
 Calamities are on us, evil days 
 
 O'er our isle darken, but the noble wear 305 
 
 Disaster, as an Angel wears his wings, 
 
 To elevate and glorify. Nor us 
 
 Shroudeth alone the enveloping gloom, the frame 
 
 And fabric of our world is breaking up. 
 
 Rome's dome of empire, that o'ervaulted earth 310 
 
 With its capacious shadow, rent and split, 
 
 Disorders the smooth course of human things, 
 
 Leaving confusion lord of this wide ball, 
 
 While to and fro the Nations' sway perplex'd, 
 
 Like a tempestuous sea. Oh, mid such wreck, 3 1 5 
 
 Our Britain in lone safety to uphold, 
 
 On every side 'gainst gathering foes present
 
 16 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK I. 
 
 A rampire of hard steel, or firmer far, 
 
 The bulwark of a haughty spirit pour'd 
 
 From the throrfd Sovereign through her sons, were pride, 
 
 Were honour, might arrest Heaven's plumed hosts 321 
 
 And in their sphere-born music win renown. 
 
 So He whose sceptre glitters in thy grasp, 
 
 He the Deliverer, the Defender nanVd, 
 
 So Constantine had done, had the high Soul's bane, 325 
 
 Ambition, never maddened him to wear 
 
 The purple, madly worn, yet nobly lost 
 
 On the sad plain by Aries."- " I knew, I knew 
 
 'Twould come to this, that Constantine would end 
 
 The high-wrought orat'ry. This too I know, 330 
 
 And this I tell thee, Samor ! nor yet add 
 
 Rebel ! thy secret commerce with his sons, 
 
 To undermine my stately throne ; the right, 
 
 So babble ye in your licentious phrase, 
 
 Conferr'd by our assembled British Kings 335 
 
 On Constantine for ever and his heirs." 
 
 " Alas ! how better were it to know nought, 
 Than, like Kings, darkly. Constantine's brave sons 
 And Samor oft have met, have met to wail
 
 BOOK I.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 17 
 
 The hazard of their native land, to swear 340 
 
 Before the altar of the eternal God, 
 Never, amid these rude and perilous times, 
 To blow the trump of civil strife, to prop 
 With their allegiance Britain's throne, though fill'd 
 By one they deem usurping. Vortigern! 345 
 
 I am upon the string that jars thy soul, 
 And it must vibrate to its highest pitch. 
 Oh what a royal madness, that might build 
 Upon the strong rock of a people's love, 
 Yet chooseth the loose quicksand of distrust, 350 
 
 And overlays the palace of his pride 
 With a rude Saxon buttress, whose stern weight 
 Must crush it. Thou dost fear thy subjects arm'd, 
 Fear, lest the old valiance in their hearts inure, 
 And therefore fight'st their wars with foreign steel ; 355 
 And is this he, the noble and the wise, 
 The Vortigern, that Britain on the plain 
 Of Aries, that fatal plain, haiFd Captain, King ? 
 Arise, be King, be Captain, be thyself! 
 And we will stand around thy throne, and mock 360 
 The ruinous fashion of the times. 1 " " Away ! 
 
 c
 
 18 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK I. 
 
 My royal word is to the Saxon given." 
 
 " Oh, Vortigern ! this knee hath never bovv'd, 
 
 Save to the King of Kings, thus low on earth 
 
 I sue thee, cast the Saxon off." At once 365 
 
 The swift contagious grandeur set on fire 
 
 The Monarch " I am thine, am Britain's all: 
 
 Now by my throne, thus, thus I have not felt, 
 
 Since first this circling gold eat in my brow, 
 
 So free, so upright, and so kingly, chains 370 
 
 Fall from me, mists are curling off my soul." 
 
 Like two bold Venturers, silently they stand, 
 Launching amid the sun-light their rich bark 
 O'er glassy waters to the summer airs : 
 Their solemn pondering hath the lofty look 375 
 
 Of vaunting, over each high brow flames out 
 A noble rivalry of hope and pride. 
 
 The sound of wheels, lo, sliding came and smooth 
 A car, wherein, like some fair idol led 
 Through the mute tumult of adoring streets, 380 
 
 Bright-hair'd Rowena pass'd the portal arch. 
 
 Have ye a sense, ye gales, a conscious joy 
 In beauty, that with such an artful touch
 
 BOOK I.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 19 
 
 And light ye float about her garment folds, 
 
 Displaying what is exquisite display 'd, 385 
 
 And thinly scattering the light veil where'er 
 
 Its shadowing may enhance the grace, and swell 
 
 With sweet officiousness the clustering hair 
 
 Where fairest tufts its richness, and let fall 
 
 Where drooping most becomes ; that thus ye love 390^ 
 
 To lose yourselves about her, and expire 
 
 Upon her shape, or snow-white robes ? She stood, 
 
 Her ivory arm in a soft curve stretch'd out, 
 
 As only in the obedience of her steeds 
 
 Rejoicing; they their necks arch'd proud and high, 395 
 
 And by her delicate and flower-soft hands 
 
 Sway'd, as enamour'd of her mastery mov'd, 
 
 Lovingly on their bright-chafd bits repos'd, 
 
 Or in gay sport upon each other fawn'd. 
 
 But as the Monarch she beheld, she caught 400 
 
 The slack rein up, and with unconscious check 
 
 Delay'd the willing coursers, and her head, 
 
 Upon her snowy shoulder half declin'd 
 
 In languor of enjoyment, rising wore 
 
 Rosy confusion, and disorder fair 405
 
 20 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK I. 
 
 Transiently on her pride of motion broke. 
 Or chance, or meaning wander'd to his face 
 Her eye, with half command, entreating half; 
 Haughty to all the world, but mild to him, 
 TV all admir'd admiring, and th' all awing awed 4JO 
 She look'd on him, and trembled as she look'd. 
 Alone she came, alone she went not on. 
 

 
 BOOK II.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 21 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 NOON is ablaze in Heaven, but gloom, the gloom 
 
 Of the brown forest's massy vault of shade, 
 
 Is o'er the Kings of Britain ; the broad oaks, 
 
 As in protection of that conclave proud, 
 
 Like some old temple's dome, with mingling shade 5 
 
 Meet overhead, around their rugged trunks 
 
 Shew like fantastic pillars closely set 
 
 By Druids in mysterious circle, wont 
 
 Here, when the earth abroad was bright and clear 
 
 With moonshine, to install their midnight rites 10 
 
 By blue nor earthly kindled fires, while Bards 
 
 Pour'd more than music from their charmed harps. 
 
 Each on his mossy seat, in arms that cast 
 
 A glimmer which is hardly light, they sit
 
 22 SAM OR, LORD OF [BOOK II. 
 
 Colossal, stern, and still ; on every brow 15 
 
 Indignant sorrow and sad vengeance lowers. 
 
 Them had the Pagan peasant deem'd his Gods, 
 
 In cloudy wrath down stooping from the heavens 
 
 To blast the mighty of mankind, and wreak 
 
 On some old empire ruin and revenge. 20 
 
 And first majestical, yet mild, arose 
 A lofty shape, nor less than monarch seem'd, 
 Whose royal look from souls bold, .brave, and free, 
 Not stooping slavery claim'd, but upright awe 
 And noble homage ; yet uncrowned he wore 25 
 
 Dominion, him with stately reverence heard 
 
 That armed Senate. " Princes of the land, 
 
 Lords of the old hereditary thrones 
 
 Of Britain, we, the sons of Constantine, 
 
 Emrys and Uther, come not here to charge 30 
 
 Inconstant counsel on your wisdom, nought 
 
 Arraigning, that the sceptre to our line 
 
 Solemnly given, in those disastrous days, 
 
 When for the Empire of the Occident, 
 
 For Gaul o'er-master'd, and submitted Spain, 35 
 
 Warr*d Constantine, and warring nobly fell,
 
 BOOK II.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 23 
 
 Ye placed in elder hand, our right foregone 
 
 For the more precious public weal : oh, Chiefs, 
 
 'Twas well and wisely done ; a stripling's arm 
 
 May rear the kingly standard in its pomp 40 
 
 To play with Zephyrs under cloudless skies, 
 
 But when the rude storm shakes its ponderous folds 
 
 'Twere hard for less than the consummate man 
 
 Aloft to bear it, yet unstooping. Well 
 
 Stemmed your new standard bearer Vortigern 45 
 
 The overshadowing tempest, nor abas'd his front 
 
 Your crown's old glories ; till, alas ! dire change ! 
 
 Dread fall ! the sceptre that ye fondly hoped, 
 
 Would blossom, like the Hebrew Hierarch's rod, 
 
 With the almond bloom of mercy and of love, 50 
 
 Liker the Egyptian magic-worker's wand 
 
 Became a serpent, withering all your peace 
 
 With its infection : then your virtues wrought 
 
 Your sorrows, from your valour grew your shame. 
 
 Your borders were o'erleap'd, your towns on fire, 55 
 
 And the land groan'd beneath fierce Rapine's wheels. 
 
 Ye cried unto your King for arms, he sage 
 
 In cold and jealous wisdom fear'd to arm,
 
 24 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IP 
 
 Whose arms might brave himself, and cast control 
 
 On the fierce wanderings of his royal will. 60 
 
 Saxons must fight our wars, our hard-wrung gold 
 
 Buy us ignoble safety, till the slaves 
 
 Swelled into Lords, and realms must pamper 
 
 Our hirelings into Princes ; Kent, fair Kent, 
 
 The frontlet of our isle, where yet are seen 65 
 
 The graves great Caesar peopled with his dead, 
 
 When on his rear the Briton conqueror hung, 
 
 Where first the Banner of the Cross was wav'd 
 
 Sinks to a Heathen province. Warriors ! Kings ! 
 
 This must not be among baptized men, 70 
 
 This cannot be 'mong Britons. Therefore here, 
 
 Here in your presence dare we call again, 
 
 Your throne our throne, and challenge in your love 
 
 A Sovereign's title, by our youth we fell 
 
 From that great height, but Vortigern hath falTn 75 
 
 By his own guilt, we therefore rise again 
 
 In majesty renew'd ; he falls, no more 
 
 To soar into the sacred royal seat." 
 
 Thereat with concord loud, and stern acclaim, 
 
 Gave answer that proud Senate, and denounc'd 80
 
 BOOK II.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 25 
 
 Judgment irrevocable. But with mien 
 
 Somewhat appall'd, as one in high debate 
 
 And solemn council unassay'd, arose 
 
 Prince Uther : ere he spake his clanging mail 
 
 Smote with fierce stroke, as audience to enchain, 85 
 
 Himself the battle sound enkindling, high 
 
 His haughty brow and crested helm upflung, 
 
 Thus rude his fiery eloquence poured forth. 
 
 " Warriors of Britain ! me nor pomp of words 
 Beseems, nor strife of smooth and liquid phrase, 90 
 
 In the debate of swords, the fray of steeds 
 No combatant unskilled. I will not boast 
 That I have brook'd with Emrys 1 patient pride 
 A sceptre's loss : a boy, I wept to hear 
 My father's crown was on a stranger's brow. 95 
 
 But when my arm gan grasp a sword, those tears, 
 Those soft unseemly waters, turn'd to hues 
 Of burning indignation ; every crown 
 Shew'd, every kingly title to my ear 
 Sounded a scorn and shame. Even at his height 100 
 And plenitude of power I yearned to rise 
 Against th' enthroned Usurper now, oh Kings .'
 
 26 SAMOR, LORD OF [fiOOK II. 
 
 Thus charter'd, thus commission'd, thus array 'd, 
 
 With what a noble phrenzy will we rush, 
 
 Trampling the wreck of Saxon and of King ; 105 
 
 Our path sliall be as rapid and as bright 
 
 As summer meteor, more pernicious, that 
 
 Waning into the dull unkindling air, 
 
 We burning, desolating as we pass. 
 
 On, Britons, on, a tyrant fills your throne, 110 
 
 Nor fitter monument may tyrant find 
 
 Than his throne's ruins ; let the flat earth close 
 
 O'er both at once ; the stranger Saxon lords 
 
 Within our isle, the seas that bore him here 
 
 In his storm-braving navy, bear him back 115 
 
 Weltering and tossing in their drowning surge." 
 
 LowVing he stood, still in fierce act of speech, 
 Yet speechless. Sudden, then, in dread uproar 
 Rose shout of war, with thundering clash of arms 
 Mingled, then hurrying spears and nodding helms 120 
 With glittering tumult in the pale gloom flash'd ; 
 War, war each voice, each stricken shield denounc'd. 
 
 Amid the multitudinous din arose 
 Solemnly the Bright City's Lord, down sunk
 
 BOOK II.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 27 
 
 Instant all tumult, broke abruptly oft' 125 
 
 Fierce voice and clash of arms : so mute and deep 
 
 Settled the silence, the low sound was beard 
 
 Of distant waterfall, the acorn drop 
 
 From the green arch above. Still and abash'd 
 
 Sate the fierce conclave, while with mild reproof 130 
 
 Winning all hearts, the gracious Chieftain spake. 
 
 " Brave sight for earth and heaven ! it doth not fail 
 A nation's cry for freedom and for faith, 
 Nor faint, nor deaden in the mist and gloom 
 Of this low earth, it takes the morning's wings, 135 
 Passeth the crystal skies, and beats heaven's gate ; 
 There glideth through the gladdening Angel choirs, 
 That fan it onward with their favouring plumes, 
 To the eternal sapphire throne, and him 
 That sits thereon, Ineffable. Oh Kings, 
 Our council thus appealing may not wear 
 Seeming of earthly passion, lust of sway, 
 Or phrenetic vengeance : we must rise in wrath, 
 But wear it as a mourner's robe of grief, 
 Not as a garb of joy : must boldly strike, 145 
 
 But like the Roman, with reverted face,
 
 28 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK II. 
 
 In sorrow to be so enforc'd. Brave Chiefs, 
 
 It would misseem a son of this proud isle, 
 
 To trample on the fallen, though a King ; 
 
 It would misseem a Christian to rejoice 150 
 
 Where virtue hath play'd false, and fame's pure light 
 
 Hath sicken'd to dishonourable gloom. 
 
 Vortigern is our foe, no more our King, 
 
 Yet King he hath been, King he had been still, 
 
 Had never his high vaulting pride disdained 155 
 
 The smooth dominion of old use, nor striven 
 
 To fix on our impatient necks the yoke 
 
 Of foreign usurpation ; our free land 
 
 Will not endure the heathen Saxons rule, 
 
 Nor him that rules by heathen Saxon power. 160 
 
 So march we forth in th' armour of our right, 
 
 From our once King not falling off in hate 
 
 Or fickleness, but by severe constraint 
 
 Of duty to ourselves and to our God. 
 
 So march we forth, and in such state may make 165 
 
 Our mother land to vaunt of us : raise up, 
 
 Side by side, the fair airs to captivate 
 
 To an approval of our upright deed,
 
 BOOK II.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 29 
 
 Our royal banner and the Cross of Christ ; 
 
 And move within their cirque of splendour, calm, i 70 
 
 And yet resistless as the bright-man'd steeds 
 
 That bear the Morn to disenthrone old Night 
 
 And now our kingly sceptre, forced aside, 
 By stress and pressure of disordered times, 
 Devious into an alien hand, reverts 17 "> 
 
 To the old line ; the heir of Constantine, 
 Constans, the elder than this noble pair, 
 Stands foremost on succession's golden roll. 
 Nor know not I his gentle soul more apt, 
 To listen the soft flowing vesper hymn, 160 
 
 Than danger's spirit-stirring trump, yet deem, 
 Thus once forewarn 'd 'tis dangerous to divert 
 The stream of royal blood, that broken, pours 
 Waters of bitterness and civil strife 
 O'er th' harassed land, and therefore thus hail I 185 
 Constans the King of Britain. Speak I right ? 
 I pause, and wait, oh Chiefs, your high award. n 
 
 He ceased, nor time for voice or swift acclaim, 
 Scowling a sullen laugh of scorn, leaped forth 
 The mountain King, the Sovereign of the lakes 1 90
 
 30 SAMOR, LORD OP [BOOK II. 
 
 And dales this side the Caledonian bound ; 
 
 He only, when the Kings sate awe-struck, stood 
 
 Elate with mocking pity in his frown ; 
 
 A mighty savage, he of God and man 
 
 Alike contemptuous : nought of Christian lore 1 95 
 
 Knew he, yet scofFd unknown, 'twas peaceful, meek, 
 
 Thence worthless knowledge. Him delighted more 
 
 Helvellyn's cloud-wrapt brow to climb, and share 
 
 The eagle's stormy solitude ; 'mid wreck 
 
 Of whirlwinds and dire lightnings huge he stood, 200 
 
 Where his own Gods he deem'd on volleying clouds 
 
 Abroad were riding and black hurricane. 
 
 Them in their misty pride assail'd he oft 
 
 With impious threat, and laugh'd when th' echoing glens 
 
 His wild defiance cast unanswered back. 205 
 
 Now with curl'd lip of scorn, and brow uplift, 
 
 Lordly command, not counsel fierce he spake. 
 
 " Shame, coward shame! as though the fowls of heaven, 
 
 When in dusk majesty and pride of wing 
 
 Sails forth the monarch eagle, down should stoop 210 
 
 In homage to the daw. Oh craven souls, 
 
 When Snowdon or high Skiddaw's brow is bare,
 
 BOOK II. J THE BRIGHT CITY. 31 
 
 To plant the stately standard of revolt 
 
 Upon a molehill. Constans ! that to him 
 
 Caswallon should bow down ; aloft our crown 2 1 5 
 
 Upon the giddy banner staff, that rocks 
 
 On Troynovant's tall citadel, uphang, 
 
 And who the dizzy glory will rend down, 
 
 Or Constans or Caswallon ? The bright throne 
 
 Environ with grim ranks of steel-girt men: 220 
 
 Huge Saxons black with grisly scars of war, 
 
 Who first will hew to that triumphal seat 
 
 His ruinous path ? Hear, sceptred Britons, hear, 
 
 A counsel worthy the deep thoughts of kings: 
 
 Of valorous achievement and bold deeds 225 
 
 Be guerdon to the mightiest of our Isle, 
 
 The Sovereignty of Britain ; spurn my voice, 
 
 And I renounce your counsels, cast you off, 
 
 And with my hardy vassals of the north 
 
 I join the Saxon." Then fierce sounds again 230 
 
 Broke out, wan flames of brandished armour flashed. 
 
 In rude disorder and infuriate haste 
 
 Sprang every warrior from his seat, as clouds 
 
 Amid the sultry heaven, thunderous and vast,
 
 32 SAMOR, LORD OP [BOOK II. 
 
 Gather their blackening disarray to burst 235 
 
 Upon some mountain turret, so the Chiefs 
 
 Banded their fierce confusion to rush on, 
 
 And whelm in his insulting pride the foe. 
 
 He stood as one in joy, and lower'd a smile, 
 
 With wolf-skin robe flung back, broad shield outstretch'd, 
 
 And battle axe uplift : vaunting and huge 24 1 
 
 As fabled giant on embattled Heaven 
 
 Glaring not less than utter overthrow, 
 
 And total wreck ; forthwith a youth rush'd out, 
 
 His moony buckler high upheld to bar 245 
 
 The onset, and with voice, which youthful awe 
 
 Tempered to tone less resolute, addressed 
 
 The haughty Chieftain. " Father, deem not thou, 
 
 Malwyn confederate in thy lawless thought, 
 
 Mine is a Briton's soul, a Briton's sword, 250 
 
 But mortal man that seeks thy life, must pass 
 
 O'er M alwyn's corpse." Back Chief and King recoiPd, 
 
 In breathless admiration. Nobler pride, 
 
 And human joy almost to softness smooth'd 
 
 Caswallon's rugged brow. " Well hast thou said, 255 
 
 Son of Caswallon, worthy of thy sire !
 
 BOOK II.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 33 
 
 On thine own track mount thou to fame, nor swerve 
 For man, or more than man." 'Awhile the Kings 
 Brief parley held, then stately and severe 
 Rose Emrys, and pronounc'd their stern arrest. 260 
 
 " Caswallon of the Mountains, long our isle 
 Hath mark'd thy wavering mood, now friend now foe ; 
 Now in the Caledonian inroad prompt 
 To bear thy share in rapine, foremost now 
 In our high councils. This we further say, 265 
 
 We scorn thy war, Caswallon, hate thy peace, 
 And deem it of our mercy that, unscath'd, 
 We ban thee from our presence. 11 Nor reply 
 Caswallon deignM ; calm strode he as in scorn 
 Of wrath gainst foes so lowly. Far was heard 270 
 His tread along the rocky path, the crash 
 Of branches rent by his unstooping helm. 
 They in blank wonder sate, nor wholly quelTd 
 Wrath and insulted majesty, with look 
 As he were still in presence fix'd, and stern. 275 
 
 Then spake Prince Emrys, " Not of trivial toil 
 To shape the rude trunk of our enterprize 
 To smooth perfection ; deeply must we found,
 
 34 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK II. 
 
 And strongly build the fabric of our hopes, 
 
 And each must hold his charge. Be, Samor, thine 280 
 
 To bear our brother Constans Britain's crown, 
 
 In name of our assembled Kings. Be mine 
 
 From the Armoric shore, King Hoel's realm, 
 
 (Our father's brother, Hoel) to embark 
 
 The succours of his high-fam'd Chivalry. 285 
 
 Thou, Uther, to the West ; each other King 
 
 Unto his own, at signal of revolt 
 
 To lead his armed Vassalage abroad." 
 
 So saying, each departed ; fell again 
 The ancient silence on the solemn place. 290 
 
 Together from the forest passed the friends, 
 Samor and Elidure ; below their way 
 Went wandering on through flowery meads, or sank 
 Beneath green arches dim of beechen shade. 
 Around the golden hills in summer wealth 295 
 
 Bask'd in the sunshine ; on a river bank 
 Long gleaming down its woodland course, repos'd 
 Many a white hamlet : even fierce shrines of war 
 Wore aspect mild of peace ; towers dark of yore 
 And rugged in the Roman war array, 300
 
 BOOK II. J THE BRIGHT CITY. 35 
 
 With wanton ivy and gray moss overgrown, 
 Their green crowns melted in the azure heavens. 
 
 " Oh grief! o'er yon fajr meads and smiling lawns 
 Must steeds of carnage batten, men of blood 
 Their fell magnificence of murtherous pomp 305 
 
 Pavilion in yon placid groves of peace. 
 The blood-thirst savages of wood and air, 
 In meet abodes of wilderness and woe, 
 Shroud their abhorred revels ; the gaunt wolf 
 Prowls gloomy o'er the wintry blasted heath ; 310 
 
 Brood desolate on some bare mountain peak 
 Raven and screaming vulture. Man, fell man, 
 Envious of bliss he scorns, 'mid haunts of peace, 
 Spots fair and blissful, the rare stars of earth, 
 Plays ever his foul game of spoil and death, 315 
 
 Ruthless, then vaunts himself Creation's pride, 
 Supreme o'er all alone in deeds of blood. 1 " 
 
 Thus Elidure ; him Samor, from deep trance 
 Wakening, addrest : " Soft man of peace my prayer 
 Would ask of heaven no theatre of strife 320 
 
 Save yon fair plain, there forth the weak would start 
 In the tumultuous valour of despair,
 
 36 SAMOR, LORD OP [BOOK II. 
 
 The timorous proudly tower in scorn of death : 
 
 There, where each tree, each dell, each grassy knoll, 
 
 Lovely from memory of some past delight, 325 
 
 Is kindred to the soul ; his house of prayer, 
 
 The altar of his bridal vow, the font 
 
 Of his sweet infants baptism, kindred all, 
 
 Holiest and last, his fathers peaceful graves : 
 
 Oh, were all Britain, like yon beauteous plain, 330 
 
 Blissful and free, that angels there might walk 
 
 Forgetful of their heavenly bowers of light, 
 
 Friend of my boyhood, these all-conquering foes, 
 
 Who fetter the free winds, and ride the sea 
 
 Kinglike, their menacing prows would turn aloof, 335 
 
 And bitterly, in baffled lust of prey, 
 
 Curse the proud happiness that mock'd their might." 
 
 Lo, ere he paus'd, gay files of dazzling light 
 Slow o'er the plain advancing, indistinct 
 From their full brightness ; gradual the long blaze 340 
 Broke into form, and lance and bow and helm, 
 Standard and streamer, chariot and fair steed, 
 Start from the mingled splendour. On their height 
 Unseen, the Chieftains watch 'd the winding pomp.
 
 BOOK H.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 37 
 
 And all before the azure-vested Bards 345 
 
 From glancing instruments shook bridal glee. 
 Then came the gorgeous chariots, rough with gold, 
 And steeds their proud heads nodding with rich weight 
 Of frontlet wreathed with flowers and shadowy plumes ; 
 Therein sate ladies robed in costly state, 350 
 
 Each like a Queen ; the noble charioteers, 
 Briton in garb, with purple mantle loose, 
 CTer steel, in network bright, or scale o'er scale, 
 Glittering, and aventayle barrM close and firm, 
 As yet the gaudy traitors shamed to meet 355 
 
 The cold keen glance of countryman betray'd. 
 Dark in their iron arms, some wildly girt 
 With Caledonian spoils, their yellow hair 
 Down from the casque in broad luxuriant flow 
 Spreading, and lofty banner wide display'd, 360 
 
 Whereon a milk-white courser reinless shone, 
 Paced forth the Saxon warriors. High o'er all, 
 Tempestuous Horsa, chafing his hot steed, 
 And Hengist with his wreath of amber beads,* 
 
 * He is so decorated by the Welsh Poets. See Trausl. of the Brut of 
 Tysilio, by Peter Roberts.
 
 38 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK II. 
 
 His hoary strength, in spite of age or toil, 365 
 
 A tower of might : with that tall grove of spears, 
 
 Circled, and rampire close of serried shields, 
 
 The bridegroom Monarch rode, his bright attire 
 
 Peaceful, as fitting nuptial pomp, his robe 
 
 Rich-floating strew'd the earth with purple shade, 370 
 
 And on his lofty brow a regal crown, 
 
 Bright as a wreath of sunbeams ; high his arm 
 
 The ivory sceptre bore of kingly sway : 
 
 Yet who his mien and bearing watch'd had seen 
 
 Dim gleam of jealous steel, or lurking mail 375 
 
 Beneath those glorious trappings, for his gaze, 
 
 Now jocund, changed anon to wandering stare, 
 
 Fearful and wild, as the still air were rife 
 
 With vengeful javelins showering death, his pace 
 
 Hurried, yet tardy, as of one who rides 380 
 
 CTer land still tottering with an earthquake shock. 
 
 And him beside, on snowy palfrey, decked 
 With silver bells its pendant mane profuse, 
 Of silver and of stainless ermelin 
 
 The bright caparisons, and all her robes 385 
 
 White as of woven lily cups, the Bride
 
 BOOK II.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 39 
 
 Majestic rode as on a waving throne. 
 
 Her sunbright hair she wav'd, and smil'd around, 
 
 As though, of less than kingly Paramour 
 
 Scornful, she said, Lo, Britain, through your land 390 
 
 I lead the enthralled sovereign of your isle. 
 
 Yet so surpassing fair, brief instant wished 
 
 Those wrathful Briton Chiefs their leafy screen 
 
 A thin transparent cloud : of his high charge 
 
 Brief while forgetful, Samor stood entranced, 395 
 
 Fearing her form should fleet too swift away. 
 
 Came it from earth or air, yon savage shape, 
 His garb, if garb it be, of shaggy hair 
 Close folding o^er his dusky limbs, his locks 
 And waving matted beard like cypress boughs 400 
 
 On bleak heath swaying to the midnight storm ? 
 Came he from yon deep wood ? On the light spray 
 No leaf is stirring. On the winged winds 
 Bode he ? No breeze awakes the noontide air. 
 Mid that arni'd throng, dismaying, undismayed, 405 
 With a strange eye dilated, as unus'd 
 To common sights of earth, and voice that seem'd 
 Rarely to hold discourse with human ears,
 
 40 SAMOR, LORD OP [BOOK II. 
 
 " Joy," and again, and thrice he uttered " Joy." 
 
 CowerM Horsa on his palsied steed ; aghast, 410 
 
 As toiling to despise the thing he fear'd, 
 
 Sate Hengist. " Joy to Bridegroom and to Bride ! 
 
 Why should not man rejoice, and earth be glad ? 
 
 Beyond the sphere of man, the round of earth, 
 
 There's loud rejoicing, 'tis not in the heavens ! 415 
 
 And many ministrant Angels shake their wings 
 
 In gladness, wings that are not plunVd with light. 
 
 The dead are jocund, not the dead in bliss. 
 
 Your couch is blest by all whose blessings blast, 
 
 All things unlovely gratulate your love. 420 
 
 I see the nuptial pomp, the nuptial song 
 
 I hear, and full the pomp, for Hate, and Fear, 
 
 And excellent Dishonour, and bright Shame, 
 
 And rose-cheek'd Grief, and jovial Discontent, 
 
 And that majestic herald, Infamy, 425 
 
 And that high noble, Servitude, are there, 
 
 A blithesome troop, a gay and festive crew. 
 
 And the Land's curses are the bridal hymn ; 
 
 Sweetly and shrilly doth th 1 accordant Isle 
 
 Imprecate the glad Hymenean song. 430
 
 BOOK II.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 41 
 
 So joy again, I say, to Britain's King, 
 
 That taketh to his bosom Britain's fate, 
 
 Her beautiful destruction to his bed. 
 
 And joy to Britain's Queen, who bears her Lord 
 
 So bright a dowry and profuse, long years 435 
 
 Of war and havoc, and fair streams of blood, 
 
 And plenteous ruin, loss of crown and fame, 
 
 And full perdition of the immortal soul ; 
 
 So thrice again I utter 'joy,* 'joy,' 'joy !'" 
 
 Then upsprung spear to strike, and bicker 'd bow ; 440 
 Ere spear could strike, or shaft could fly, the path 
 Was bare and vacant ; shape nor sound remainM ; 
 Only the voice of Vortigern moan'd out, 
 " Merlin ;" and on the long procession past. 
 
 Down in a quiet dale, where beechen groves 445. 
 With interchanging gold and glossy green 
 O'ermantled the smooth slopes, that fell around 
 Like a fair amphitheatre, beneath 
 A brook went wand'ring through fresh meadow banks, 
 With a cool summer dashing, here the Chiefs 460 
 
 The royal Hermit met, his gentle brow 
 Smooth as a slumbering Angel's plumes (effaced
 
 42 SAMORj LORD OF [BOOK II. 
 
 All traces of this rude and wearing earth, 
 
 All brands of fiery passions, wild desires) 
 
 Wore that calm holiness the sainted dead 455 
 
 Smile on the visions of their Wd on earth : 
 
 His life was like a sleep, with heavenly sights, 
 
 And harmonies, as of angelic sounds 
 
 Visited ever, nor his barren heart 
 
 Touch'd not the light affections, trembled not 460 
 
 His spirit with love's fervent swell, but all 
 
 Most wont to bear man's soul to earth, round him 
 
 As the thin morning clouds around the lark, 
 
 Gather'd, to float him upward to the heavens. 
 
 They at his feet down laid the kingly crown, 465 
 Fulfill'd their lofty mission. He, the while, 
 .With that mild sadness he had watched the leaves 
 Drip from the sere autumnal bough, survey'd 
 Its stately glittering. " Men of earth, why mock, 
 With gaudy pageantry, and titled pomp, 470 
 
 The frail and transient pilgrims of this world. 
 The fading flag-flower on yon streamlet brink, 
 Were garland meeter for our mortal brows 
 Than yon rich blaze of gems." " Prince, 1 ' Samor spake
 
 BOOK II.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 43 
 
 " Sweet is it down the silent vale of life 475 
 
 To glide away, of all but Heaven forgot, 
 
 Forgetting all but Heaven. Of king-born men, 
 
 Lords of mankind, high delegates of Heaven, 
 
 Loftier the doom, their rare prerogative 
 
 The luxury of conferring bliss. Oh, Prince, 480 
 
 Not by the stream to slumber, not to waste 
 
 Idly in joyous dreams the drowsy hours, 
 
 Hath Heaven thy kingly heritage ordain'd ; 
 
 Set badge of Empery on thy brow : of God 
 
 The noblest service is to serve mankind, 485 
 
 To save a nation all a mortal's power, 
 
 To imitate the Saviour of the world." 
 
 Calm answer'd Constans, " Earth's exalted fame, 
 Grandeurs and glories gleam upon my soul 
 Like wintery sun-light on a plain of snow. 490 
 
 With prayers, a Hermit's arms, I aid your cause, 
 Farewell. Why pause ye, as to question more 
 The wisdom of my choice lo, yon fair orb ; 
 How spotless the fine azure where he holds 
 His secret palace, knows not his pure light 495 
 
 A stain of dimness, till th 1 abode of men
 
 44 SAMORj LORD OF [BOOK II. 
 
 J*ours oVr it its infectious mists." " Oh, Prince, 
 
 'Tis not the glory of that peerless light, 
 
 The barren glittering, the unfruitful waste 
 
 Of splendour on the still inanimate skies, 500 
 
 It is the life, the motion, and the joy 
 
 It breathes along this world of man, the broad 
 
 Munificence of blessing that awakes, 
 
 And in its rapturous gratitude springs up, 
 
 To glorify its bounteous source of pride." 505 
 
 " I see thy brow at thine own words on fire ; 
 Mine, Samor, yet is calm and cold." " Dost thou, 
 Constans, all title, claim, and right renounce 
 To Britain's throne ?" " Even free as I renounce 
 The everlasting enemy of man." 5 1 
 
 " Will thy voice mingle with the general cry, 
 ' Long live King Emrys ?' " " Long may Emrys live, 
 Even the eternal life beyond the grave." 
 
 " Yet one word more ; 'tis perilous in the storm 
 For the tall pine, nor less, in evil days, 515 
 
 For the high born and exalted of the state. 
 The Saxon blood-hounds are abroad for prey, 
 Seek thou some quiet solitude remote
 
 BOOK II.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 45 
 
 Beyond their prowling range." His arm to Heaven 
 Slowly uplifted, " Will they reach me there ?" 520 
 Spake the meek Hermit, " there is rest secure. 1 " 
 
 They parted ; gentle Elidure alone, 
 Lingering with somewhat of an envious gaze, 
 View'd the deep quiet of that placid dell. 
 
 That night were seen along the dusky wood, 525 
 Of more than human stature moving forms, 
 Pale faces circled with black iron helms, 
 Not of the Briton shape their garb or arms ; 
 Stealthy their pace and slow ; the peasants thought 
 Demons of evil that sad night had power, 530 
 
 And pray'd Heaven's grace to guard the saintly man. 
 
 At morn roved forth the peasant, down the dale 
 His dog went bounding to the Hermit's cell, 
 For all mute creatures loved the man of God. 
 A quick and desolate moaning nearer calFd 535 
 
 The peasant ; in officious grief the dog 
 Stood licking the cold hand that drooping hung 
 Lifeless ; the mild composure of his brow 
 On the cross rested ; praying he had died, 
 And his cold features yet were smiling prayer. 540
 
 46 
 
 SAMOR, LORD OF fBOOK III. 
 
 >' 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 ORIENT the bright-hair'd Charioteer of heaven 
 
 Pour'd daylight from his opal wheels, and struck 
 
 From the blue pavement of the sky clear flakes 
 
 Of azure light upon the Eastern sea. 
 
 And as the gray mists slowly curl'd away, 5 
 
 Rose the white cliffs of Kent, like palace fair, 
 
 Or fane of snowy marble, to enshrine 
 
 Blue Amphitrite, or the Sea-Gods old 
 
 Of Pagan mariner. Rode tall below 
 
 The Saxon navy, as from midnight sleep 
 
 Wakening ; the gray sails in the breeze of morn 
 
 'Gan tremble, gleaming oars flash in the spray. 
 
 The Sea-Kings on the beach in parley stern 
 
 Were met, nor less than nation's do . m and fate 
 
 10
 
 BOOK III.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 47 
 
 Of kingdoms in their voice. Lo, in the midst 15 
 
 Stood huge Caswallon, word of mild salute 
 Deign'd not, but thus addrest the Ocean Lord. 
 " Saxon ! that o'er this fair and princely isle 
 Thou would'st win empire by the sword of war, 
 I marvel not, arraign not 'tis a dream, 20 
 
 Noble as o'er the heavens to walk abroad, 
 Companion of yon bright majestic sun. 
 Now by my glory, Saxon, mortal peer 
 Never Caswallon brook'd, save thee alone, 
 Thee, rival in his race of pride and power. 25 
 
 Arm'd with myself and all th' embattled North, 
 Not Roman Britons, sons of sires who dash'd 
 The purple Conquerors 1 haughty wall to earth, 
 And trampled their strewn ramparts ; who ne'er deign'd 
 Barter for gaudy robe and marble pile, 30 
 
 Fierce naked freedom, and wild mountain cave, 
 Will I, and thou with Saxon spears begirt, 
 Bow this fair Britain to our lordly sway. 
 Then will we two, from pale perplexed earth 
 Seen, like twin meteors battling in high heaven, 35 
 
 On some lone eminence wage glorious strife, 
 Sole empire meed of conquest, of defeat
 
 48 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK III. 
 
 Utter annihilation, dark and full, 
 
 Solace and lofty comfort. 1 ' Bold he paus'd, 
 
 Nor Hengist with pale sign of awe or dread 40 
 
 Shamed the proud peerage, but with hardy speech 
 
 Guileful, won faith by seeming scorn of guile. 
 
 " Briton, to dare high deeds, and to disown, 
 Argues a wavering valour ; the firm soul 
 Vaunts resolute its lofty dangerous scope.. 45 
 
 To us our Gods o'er ocean and its shores 
 Kingly dominion and wide sway have given ; 
 Were insult to our might and base reproach, 
 The freedom of one sea-girt isle, to thee 
 Honouring, not fearing, 'mid our prime we grant 50 
 Transcendant state, and eminence of power. 
 Now speed we of th' immortal Powers in Heaven, 
 Our high omniscient Fathers, to demand 
 If on the eternal shield of fate be graven 
 Ruin or Conquest, ere to bold emprize 55 
 
 We gird our brazen arms." " Of mighty men 
 The gods are mighty, whom the Saxon fears, 
 The paramount of men, 'twere rash to scorn, 
 No calm and sunshine deities of peace." 
 
 So spake Caswallon, the mild faith of Christ 60
 
 BOOK III.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 49 
 
 Scoffing with covert mockery ; thus th' All Wise 
 The imaginations of the proud on earth 
 Silent endures, till some brief point of time 
 Crumbles the high-built insolence of years. 
 
 " Wilt thou behold our gods ?" fierce Horsa cried. 65 
 " Then mount the bark, abroad her wings are spread, 
 And fleet along the obedient deep she speeds. 
 Fear not, proud Briton." " Fear i' 1 Caswallon cried ; 
 All iron as he stood, o'er surf, surge, wave 
 He bounded, hollow rang his heavy arms, 70 
 
 The bark her tall side to the troubled waves 
 Stoop'd groaning, nor delayed the Ocean King. 
 
 " Brother, farewell ? not singly the bold wolf 
 Scatters the mountain herd ; in grim repose 
 He rests expectant of his kindred troop, 7 5 
 
 Numberless from their shaggy dens they sweep, 
 And spacious o'er the antler*d monarch's realm 
 Spreads the wide ravage of their muster'd might." 
 
 Stern Horsa bow'd assent, yet paus'd to watch 
 The proud bark tilting o'er the azure plain. 80 
 
 Stately she rode her path of light, her sails 
 In dalliance with the courteous winds : bold Man ! 
 
 E
 
 50 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK III. 
 
 Well may thy full heart bound : in earth and air 
 
 The thunder-maned steed, the eagle thron'd 
 
 In the pavilion of his plumes, stand forth 85 
 
 Creation's glories ; but the noblest shape 
 
 That walks the deep thy workmanship sublime 
 
 Owneth, and starts from thee to life. Vaunt thou, 
 
 Yet humbly vaunt, all greatness is from God. 
 
 What dolphin glancing in his silver sport, 90 
 
 More graceful with translucent pinion parts 
 The liquid azure ? what Leviathan, 
 Huge heaving on the thick Norwegian foam, 
 More lordly than the white-wing'd bark, that wafts 
 The Sea King o'er his empire ? the fair waves 95 
 
 Rise in their gamesome turbulence, and pay 
 Wild homage to that royal Mariner. 
 
 The motion and the murmur of the deep, 
 The rushing of the silent, solemn sky, 
 Each in its deep abyss and pure expanse, 100 
 
 Seeming its secret mysteries of might, 
 Its ruling soul of everlasting change, 
 To veil from mortal knowledge, ever pour, 
 O'er savage eVn and rude, tumultuous awe,
 
 BOOK III.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 51 
 
 And exultation of a pleasing dread. 105 
 
 From dizzy notions of infinity, 
 
 Vague sense of ever-during sights and sounds, 
 
 Inactive though the body, the free spirit, 
 
 Vagrant along the illimitable void. 
 
 Perils uncouth and rich uncertainties 1 10 
 
 Ranges in restless round, plucks treasures rare, 
 
 That gem the caverns of the hoary deep, 
 
 Or bathes with sea-maids in their crystal bowers, 
 
 Or with gay creatures and fantastical 
 
 Peoples some dreamy land ; such joys of old 1 1 5 
 
 Lured the fierce Saxon from his darksome woodsj 
 
 To launch along the vast and barren sea. 
 
 Such joys through this long voyage, weaiv'd brief while 
 
 From thoughts of war and war-won empire wide, 
 
 Haughty Caswallon, or from him assum'd 1 20 
 
 Fierce aspect, and a battailous character. 
 
 'Twas midnight, but a rich unnatural dawn 
 Sheets the fiVd Arctic heaven ; forth springs an arch, 
 O'erspanning with a crystal pathway pure 
 The starry sky, as though for Gods to march, 1 25 
 
 With show of heavenly warfare daunting earth,
 
 52 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK HI. 
 
 To that wild revel of the northern clouds ; 
 
 That now with broad and bannery light distinct, 
 
 Stream in their restless wavings to and fro, 
 
 While the sea billows gleam them mellower back ; 130 
 
 Anon like slender lances bright upstart, 
 
 And clash and cross with hurtle and with flash, 
 
 Tilting their airy tournament. 11 " Brave signs, 1 ' 
 
 Cried Hengist ; " lo, our Gods their standards rear, 
 
 And with glad omen of immortal strife 135 
 
 Salute our high-wing'd purpose.' 1 " Yea (returnM 
 
 Caswallon) from mine own Helvellyn's brow, 
 
 Never a brighter conflict in the skies 
 
 Taught me that war was dear in Heaven : dream ye 
 
 Of tamer faith an gentle Southern skies 140 
 
 Your smooth and basking deities, our North 
 
 Wooes not with tender hues and sunny smiles 
 
 Soft worship, but emblazons all the air 
 
 With semblance of celestial strife, unveils 
 
 To us of their empyreal halls the pomp, 145 
 
 The secret majesty of godlike war. 11 
 
 Oh Lord of Lords ! incessant thus assail'd 
 That Pagan with his frantic railings Thee,
 
 BOOK III."] THE BRIGHT CITY. 53 
 
 Th' Ineffable, yet worshipped of thy power 
 
 A faint and pale effect, reflection dim 1 50 
 
 From thy soul-blinding glories. On they sail'd, 
 
 Till o'er the dark deep now the wintry winds 
 
 Swept on their murky pinions, huge and high 
 
 The liquid legions of the main arose'; 
 
 Like snow upon the sable pines, the foam 155 
 
 Hung hoary on their towered fronts ; but slow, 
 
 Like a triumphant warrior, their bold bark 
 
 Wore onward, now upon the loftiest height 
 
 Shaking its streamers gay defiance, now 
 
 With brave devotion to the prone abyss 160 
 
 Down rushing, but the sternest Saxon cheek 
 
 Put not to shame that dauntless Landsman ; he 
 
 In the strong passion of a new delight 
 
 On the fierce tumult feasts, and almost grieves, 
 
 When now beneath the haven rocks embayed, 165 
 
 The angry waves seem wearying to repose, 
 
 And the slack sails slow droop their flagging folds. 
 
 Their port was southward of that Strait, where bursts 
 The Baltic, with her massy waves of ice 
 Encumbering far and wide the Northern main. 1 70
 
 54 SAMOR, LORD OF [fiOOK III. 
 
 South, North, and East, the rapid heralds speed, 
 Summoning from fen or forest, moor or wild, 
 Britain ! on thee to banquet, all who bathe 
 In Weser, Elbe, or Rhine, their saffron locks, 
 Hertog and Erie and King ; the huntsman bold 175 
 Of bear, or bison, o'er the quaking moss, 
 Or grim Vikinger, who but sues his Gods 
 For tempests, so upon some wealthy coast 
 Bursts unforeseen his midnight frigate fierce, 
 And freights its greedy hold with amplest spoil. 1 SO 
 
 And now have Hengist and Caswallon climb'd 
 The chariot of the Oracle ; no wheels 
 Bear that strange car ; like wind along the sea, 
 It glides along the rapid rein-deer's track. 
 Beauteous those gentle rein-deer arch'd their necks, 185 
 And cast their palmy antlers back, and spread 
 Their broad red nostrils to the wind ; they hear 
 Old Hengist's voice, like arrows down the gale, 
 Like shot-stars through the welkin start they forth. 
 The car slides light, the deer bound fleet : they pass 190 
 Dark leagues of pine and fir, the filmy light, 
 Shivering with every motion of the wind
 
 BOOK III.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 55 
 
 On their brown path lies tremulous, o'er them sails, 
 
 Heard through the dismal foliage hissing shrill, 
 
 And hoarser groaning of the swaying boughs, 1 95 
 
 The funeral descant of the ominous birds. 
 
 Around them the prophetic milk white steeds,* 
 
 Their necks yet virgin of the taming curb, 
 
 With all their loose long glories, arch, and pass 
 
 In solemn silence, and regardless paw 200 
 
 The unechoing earth. But that old German, set 
 
 Inflexible with bolder hand to draw 
 
 The veil of dusk futurity, disdains 
 
 These tamer omens. Still the car slides light, 
 
 The deer bound fleet, they pause not, save to quaff 205 
 
 The narrow cruise, to share their scanty store. 
 
 Like swallows o'er the glassy rivers smooth, 
 
 O'er the pellucid lake, with glittering breast 
 
 Yet wrinkled with its rippling waves, they skim, 
 
 The dead unstirring ocean bears them on, 210 
 
 Amid the immortal ice-hills wind they now. 
 
 * Proprium gentis, equorum quoque praesagia ac monitus experiri : pub- 
 lice aluntur iisdem nemoribus ac lucis. Candidi, et nullo mortal! opere con- 
 tacti, quos presses sacro curru sacerdos ac rex vel pn'nceps civitatis comi- 
 tantur, hinnitusque ac fremitns observant. Tac. Germ.
 
 66 SAM OR, LORD OF [BOOK IH. 
 
 In restless change, God's softer summer works 
 Glitter and fade, are born and die, but these, 
 Endiadem'd by undissolving snows, 
 High Potentates of winter's drear domain, 215 
 
 Accumulate their everlasting bulk, 
 
 / 
 Eternal and imperishable, stand 
 
 Amid Creation's swift inconstant round, 
 
 In majesty of silence undisturbed, 
 
 Save when from their long-menacing brows they shake 
 
 The ruining Avalanche ; unvisited 22 1 
 
 By motion, but of sailing clouds, when sleets 
 
 From their unwasting granary barb their darts, 
 
 And the grim North-wind loads his rimy wings. 
 
 Nor trace of man, save many a fathom deep, 225 
 
 Haply dark signs of some tall people strange, 
 
 That walk'd the infant earth, may shroud profound 
 
 Their legends inaccessible. They soar 
 
 In headlong precipice, or pyramid 
 
 Linking the earth and heaven, to which the piles 2SO 
 
 Where those Egyptian despots rot sublime, 
 
 Or even that frantic Babylonian tower, 
 
 Were frivolous domes for laughter and for scorn.
 
 BOOK III.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 57 
 
 Nor wants soft interchange of vale, where smiles 
 White mimicry of foliage and thin flower. 235 
 
 Feathery and fanlike spreads the leafy ice, 
 With dropping cup, and roving tendril loose, 
 As though the glassy dews o'er flower and herb 
 Their silken moisture had congealed, and yet 
 Within that slender veil their knots profuse 240 
 
 Blossom'd and blush'd with tender life, the couch 
 Less various where the fabled Zephyr fans 
 With his mild wings his Flora's bloomy locks ; 
 But colourless and cold, these flowering vales 
 Seem meeter for decrepit Winter's head 245 
 
 To lie in numb repose* The car slides light, 
 The deer bound fleet, the long gray wilderness 
 Hath something of a roseate glimmering dim, 
 And widens still its pale expanse : when lo, 
 A light of azure, wavering to display 250 
 
 No sights, no shapes of darkness and of fear. 
 Tremblingly flash'd the inconstant meteor light, 
 Shewing thin forms, like virgins of this earth, 
 Save that all signs of human joy or grief, 
 The flush of passion, smile or tear had seemYl 255
 
 58 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK III. 
 
 On the fix'd brightness of each dazzling cheek, 
 
 Strange and unnatural : statues not unlike 
 
 By nature, in fantastic mood congeaM 
 
 From purest snow, the fair of earth to shame, 
 
 Surpassing beauteous : breath of mortal lilb 260 
 
 Heaved not their bosoms, and no rosy blood 
 
 Tinged their full veins, yet mov'd they, and their steps 
 
 Were harmony. But three of that bright troop, 
 
 The loveliest and the wildest, stood aloof, 
 
 Enwrapt by what in human form were Like 265 
 
 Impulse divine, of their fine nature seenVd 
 
 The eternal instinct. Them no less surveyed 
 
 Caswallon with the knitted brow of scorn, 
 
 Bitter he spake " Xo marvel Saxon souls 
 
 Revel in war's delights, so stern, so fierce 270 
 
 Their deities." Severe with wrath supprest, 
 
 As one ill-brooking that irreverent mirth 
 
 ScofTd the feign'd lore, himself ne er dar'd to doubt, 
 
 Answered the son of Woden. " These, proud Chief, 
 
 So snowy, soft, and airy gentle, these 275 
 
 Are ministers of destiny and death, 
 
 The viewless Riders of the battle field :
 
 BOOK III.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 59 
 
 When sounds the rushing of their sable steeds, 
 
 Down sink the summonM mighty, and expand, 
 
 Valhalla's cloudy portals ; to their thrones 280 
 
 They the triumphant strangers lead, and pour 
 
 Lavish the eternal beverage of the Gods. 
 
 Mark thou yon bright-hair'd three ? and would thy soul 
 
 Grasp the famed deeds of ancient time, or know 
 
 The master spirits of our present world. 285 
 
 Lo Gudur, she whose deep mysterious soul 
 
 Treasureth the past, and Rosta, who beholds 
 
 All acts and agents of this living earth ; 
 
 She too is there before whose spacious sight 
 
 The years that have not been start up and live, 290 
 
 Who reads within the soul of man unborn 
 
 The unimagin'd purpose, of the sage 
 
 Skulda the sagest. Ask and thou shalt know." 
 
 < ; I am not King of Britain, have not been, 
 
 Hateful the present and the past, my soul 295 
 
 Thirsteth for what shall be.' 1 Then Hengist spake 
 
 In tone of mix'd authority and prayer, 
 
 " Queen of the Future, Valkyr, hear and speak, 
 
 Speak to the Son of Woden." All the troop
 
 60 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK III. 
 
 \ 
 Instant the thin bright air absorbed, alone 300 
 
 Stood Skulda with her white hair waving wide, 
 As trembling on the verge of palpable being, 
 Ready to languish too in light away. 
 
 " O'er Britain's isle doth Woden to his sons 
 Give empire ?" She, but in no human tone, 305 
 
 E'er from the soul's emotion harsh or soft, 
 One glittering rich unvarying tone replied, 
 " To thine, but not to thee." And, " I am thine," 
 Caswallon shouted loud, and sternly shook 
 His visionary sceptre. " Whence the foe 310 
 
 Fatal to Hengist, and to Hengist's sway ?" 
 " Not from the mountain, Saxon, from the Vale." 
 Heard, heeded not the Mountain Chief that strain 
 Dire and ill-boding, or if heard, disdain'd 314 
 
 Adverse what prosperous seem'd a voice from Heaven. 
 
 " By what rich rite," he cried, " may Briton Chief 
 Win favour from high Woden ?" " Not the blood 
 Of steed or stag ; a flower of earth must fade. 
 Blest o'er all virgins of the earth, the chaste, 
 The beautiful, by Heaven ordain'd to lead 320 
 
 The souls of valiant men to the pale hall
 
 BOOK HI. J THE BRIGHT CITY. 61 
 
 Of the Immortal ; air her path, and Heaven 
 
 Her dwelling, with the fair and brave of earth 
 
 Her sole communion ?" " By my future throne, 
 
 Proud office for the daughter of a King ! 325 
 
 A royal damsel, mine own blood, shall join 
 
 Your cloudy mysteries." A hue like joy 
 
 Overspread all her face and form, while slow 
 
 Into the air she brighten 'd, indistinct 
 
 Even now, and now invisible. Sad seem'd 330 
 
 In gloomy converse with his own dark mind 
 
 Old Hcngist, nor despaired that bold of soul, 
 
 In pride of human wisdom to revoke 
 
 The irrevocable, what himself deenVd fate 
 
 By force or fraud to master or elude. 335 
 
 O glorious eminence of virtuous fame, 
 Glorious from peril ! Warrior of the Vales, 
 Fate-signald Samor, vaunt not thou the love 
 Of a blind people, or weak prince : thy boast 
 The sworn unerring hate of Britain's foe. 340 
 
 So pass'd they forth, one in wild joy elate, 
 Already in his high disdainful thought 
 Wielding supremacy ; each of fix'd fate 
 Nought heeding, but what fed his fierce desires.
 
 62 SAMORj LORD OF [BOOK JIT. 
 
 The car slides light, the deer bound fleet, nor sun 345 
 Nor star in all the hazy heavens. Snow, snow, 
 Above, around, beneath. Unblinded yet, 
 Drive on the kingly charioteers, and shake 
 The showery plumage from their locks ; fast fades 
 The long pale plain, the giant ice-hills sink, 350 
 
 Lakes, rivers, seas are patient of their speed, 
 Huge, dim, and dusk the forest pines rush back, 
 Now pant the brown deer by that ocean bay. 
 
 How desolate are now thy unplough'd waves, 
 Dark Baltic! wandering Elbe, thy icy breast 355 
 
 How silent of thy hunters. Sleep thou calm 
 Amid thy wanton vineyards, Gaul ! no more 
 The blue-eyed Plunderers, bridging thy broad Rhine, 
 Waste thy inebriate harvests clustering pride. 
 Sing songs of joy, soft Italy ! o'er thee 360 
 
 But AJaric and Attila drive on 
 
 Their chariot wheels of conquest, this their peer 
 
 In majesty of havoc, in renown 
 
 Of devastation, this, the fiercer third 
 
 Of human Furies, scap'st thou, therefore sing, 365 
 
 Soft Italy ; for lo, at Hengist's caH, 
 
 Vast Germany dispeoples her wide realm,
 
 BOOK III.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 63 
 
 Deserts to silence and the beasts of game 
 
 Her long and soundless forests. Seems the North 
 
 The forge of Nations, in one fleet f exhaust 370 
 
 Her iron wealth of warriors ; helmed high 
 
 The Suevian with his * towery knotted locks, 
 
 Frisian and Scandinavian, Cimbrian rich 
 
 In ancient vauntage of his sires, who clomb 
 
 The Alpine snows, and shook free Rome with dread. 375 
 
 And other nameless, numberless, sweep forth 
 
 Their bands; but three almost in nations came : 
 
 The Jute, the Anglian, and the Saxon, each 
 
 Leaving earth bare for many a lonesome league, 
 
 His wives, his children, and his Gods embarks, 380 
 
 On the fierce quest of peril and of power. 
 
 Then forth arose each Chieftain to salute 
 The polestar of their baleful galaxy, 
 Prime Architect of ruin : him who swayed 
 Their hot marauding, desultory strife 385 
 
 To cool and steady warfare, of their limbs 
 
 * Insigne gentis obliquare crinem, nodoque substringere In altitudinem 
 quandam et terrorem, adituri bella, compte, ut hostium oculis, ornantur. 
 Tac. Germ. 38. 
 
 1
 
 64 SAMOR, LORD OF [fiOOK III. 
 
 The domineering soul. As each past on 
 
 Shook up the Scald his harsh-strung shell, and cast' 
 
 The war tones of each nation to the winds ; 
 
 And Hengist with imperious flattery met 390 
 
 Each tall and titled Leader : " Art thou here, 
 
 Bold Frisian Hermengard ! a broader isle 
 
 And fairer than thy azure Rhine laves round, 
 
 Spreads for thee her green vallies. How broolc'st thou, 
 
 Strong Scandinavian Lodbrog, thou the Chief 395 
 
 Of the renown'd Vikinger, while the waves 
 
 So nobly riot with the wintry storms, 
 
 The tame and steadfast land ? Now freely leap, 
 
 Arngrim, along thy Suevian forests brown 
 
 The bear and foam-tusk'd wild boar ; let them leap, 400 
 
 A braver game is up on Britain's shore. 
 
 O Cerdic, gray in glory, young in power, 
 
 The Drave ran purple with thy boyish deeds, 
 
 A darker, redder dye, o'er silver Thames 
 
 Shall spread before thy ancient battle axe. 405 
 
 Ho, Offa, the rich-flowing mead Irath worn 
 
 Your Jutland cups, beneath the British helms 
 
 Capacious goblets smooth and fair await
 
 BOOK III.] \ THE BRIGHT CITY. 65 
 
 Offa's carousals. Heir of Cimbric fame,* 
 
 Frotho, how these, of late the Roman's slaves, 
 
 Will the race daunt, who set our Thor afront 
 
 The Roman's Capitolian Jove. And thou, 
 
 My gold-hair 'd brother, are the British maids, 
 
 Or British warriors, Abisa, the first 
 
 In the fierce yearnings of thy boyish soul ? 415 
 
 And lo the mighty Anglian ; oh, unfold 
 
 Ocean more wide, more wealthy realms, too brief, 
 
 Too narrow for Argantyr's ame, the round 
 
 Of this the choice, the Sovereign of thine isles. 
 
 Thereat a sound of clattering shields arose, 420 
 
 As all the rocks around with one harsh rift 
 Had rent asunder : " Fair must be the land, 
 And brave the conquest, plenteous the renown, 
 Where Hengist leads strong Woden's sceptred sons !" 
 
 But inly laugh'd Caswallon, as he long'd 425 
 
 With each or all to match his Briton strength ; 
 On the prophetic Valkyr thought, and glanced 
 Proud pity on the legends of their praise. 
 
 Advanced Argantyr, his bold grasp apart, 
 
 * Cimbri parvanunc civitas sedglorid ingens. Tac. Germ. 
 
 \ 
 F
 
 66 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK III. 
 
 As peer his peer, led Hengist. " Thou and I, 430 
 
 Saxon, must have our compact ; dark I know 
 
 Thy paths of strife, while my frank valour loves 
 
 The broad bright sunshine ; thou by sleight and art 
 
 Min'st thy slow conquest ; I with naked sword 
 
 Affront my peril, till its menacing height 435 
 
 Bow to the dust before me ; for bold war, 
 
 For noonday battling, tender I mine arm, 
 
 But no allegiance own to subtle craft ; 
 
 To peace Argantyr doth revolt when thou 
 
 Array'st stern war in the smooth garb of guile." 440 
 
 " The weak, Argantyr, and the friendless, need 
 
 Such politic skill ; I take thee at thy word. 
 
 Who skulks a fox when he dare prowl a wolf? 
 
 Power charters force, where strong Argantyr stands 
 
 Is power. And now aboard, brave Chiefs, aboard, 445 
 
 Or the soft spring o'ertakes our tardy keels, 
 
 And with her slothful breezes smooths the skies." 
 
 Wonderous that ocean armament ; in shoals 
 Ride boat and bark, innumerous as the waves 
 That show white slender streaks of foam between 450 
 Their tawny sides, save here and there towers up
 
 BOOK III.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 67 
 
 Some statelier admiral in lordly height 
 
 O'er the frail comm'nalty, whose limber ribs 
 
 Are the light wicker, cased with sturdy hides 
 
 Their level bottoms smooth.* Oh, that frail Man, 455 
 
 Loose- woven frame of dissoluble stuff, 
 
 Uncharter'd from the boisterous license rude 
 
 Of pitiless winds and fierce unfettered waves, 
 
 To that unshackled libertine, wild Chance, 
 
 Amenable, unguaranteed from burst 460 
 
 And inroad of invading surge, that he, 
 
 With such thin barrier between life and death, 
 
 Should sit and skim along the ocean waste, 
 
 Careless as maiden in a flowery field ; 
 
 Valour or phrenzy is it ! They their toil 465 
 
 Ply nimbly, and with gallant oar chastise 
 
 The insurgent billows, their despotic sails 
 
 Lords o'er the wild democracy of air. 
 
 Less vast, and mann'd with tamer, feebler spirits, 
 
 * Primuui cana salix, madefacto vimine parvam 
 Texitur in puppim, caesoque induta juvenco, 
 Vectoris patiens turi idurn super emicat aninem ; 
 Sic Venetus stagnante Pado, fusoque Britannut 
 Navigat oceano. LUCAN.
 
 68 SAMOR, LORD OF [fiOOK III. 
 
 In later days, against our Virgin Queen, 470 
 
 The Spaniard's mad Armada ; but the flag 
 
 Of Howard, and the Almighty's stormy hand, 
 
 Belied their braggard baptism, so they won 
 
 Brave conquest ! graves in ocean's barren caves, 
 
 Or on the whirlpool-girded Orcades. 475 
 
 But onward rides that Pagan fleet : young Spring 
 Hath scarcely tipt the leafless woods with green ; 
 Tyne's jetty tide is blanched *vith German oars. 
 
 Now whither with that dark-brow'd priest set forth 
 Old Hengist and the Briton Mountain Lord ? 480 
 
 Is it, fell Hengist, that Caswallon's name 
 Paragon thine in British hate, close link'd 
 By fellowship in nameless rites accurst, 
 Be hence more deeply, execrably thine ? 
 Or, from weak credence in such impious Gods, 485 
 Urgest thou that fell sacrifice ? Oh, where 
 The spotless Virgin doom'd (so wild the creed) 
 The Valkyr's airy troop to join, and glide 
 Immortal through Valhalla's cloudy halls ?
 
 BOOK TV.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 69 
 
 _:. .. **. 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 SUNK was the sun, and up 1 the eastern heaven, 
 
 Like maiden on a lonely pilgrimage, 
 
 Moved the meek Star of Eve ; the wandering air 
 
 Breathed odours ; wood, and waveless lake, like man, 
 
 Slept, weary of the garish babbling day. 5 
 
 Dove of the wilderness, thy snowy wing 
 In slumber droops not ; Lilian, thou alone, 
 'Mid the deep quiet, wakest. Dost thou rove, 
 Idolatrous of yon majestic moon, 
 
 That like a crystal-throned queen in Heaven, 10 
 
 Seems with her present deity to hush 
 To beauteous adoration all the earth ? 
 Might seem the solemn silent mountain tops 
 Stand up and worship, the translucent streams
 
 ?0 SAMOB, LORD OF [BOOK IV. 
 
 Down th' hill sides glittering cherish the pure light 1 5 
 
 Beneath the shadowy foliage o'er them flung 
 
 At intervals ; the lake, so silver white, 
 
 Glistens, all indistinct the snowy swans 
 
 Bask in the radiance cool : doth Lilian muse 
 
 To that apparent Queen her vesper hymn ? 20 
 
 Nursling of solitude, her infant couch 
 Never did mother watch, within the grave 
 She slept unwaking ; scornful turn'd aloof 
 Caswallon, of those pure instinctive joys 
 By father's felt, when playful infant grace, 25 
 
 Touched with a feminine softness, round the heart 
 Winds its light maze of undefined delight, 
 Contemptuous ; he with haughty joy beheld 
 His boy, fair Malwyn, him in bossy shield 
 Rock'd proudly, him upbore to mountain steep, 30 
 
 Fierce and undaunted, for their dangerous nest 
 To battle with the eagle's clamorous brood. 
 
 But she the while from human tenderness 
 Estranged, and gentler feelings that light up 
 The cheek of youth with rosy joyous smile, 35 
 
 Like a forgotten lute, play'd on alone
 
 BOOK IV.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 71 
 
 By chance-caressing airs, amid the wild 
 
 Beauteously pale, and sadly playful grew, 
 
 A lonely child, by not one human heart 
 
 Belov'd, and loving none ; nor strange, if learnt 40 
 
 Her native fond affections to embrace 
 
 Things senseless and inanimate : she lov'd 
 
 All flow'rets that with rich embroidery fair 
 
 Enamel the green earth, the odorous thyme, 
 
 Wild rose, and roving eglantine, nor spar'd 45 
 
 To mourn their fading forms with childish tears: 
 
 Gray birch and aspen light she lov'd, that droop 
 
 Fringing the crystal stream ; the sportive breeze 
 
 That wanton'd with her brown and glossy locks, 
 
 The sunbeam chequering die fresh bank. Ere dawn 50 
 
 Wandering, and wandering still at dewy eve, 
 
 By Glenderamakin's flower-empurpled marge, 
 
 Derwenf s blue lake, or Greta's wildering glen. 
 
 Rare sound to her was human voice, scarce heard, 
 Save of her aged nurse, or shepherd maid 55 
 
 Soothing the child with simple tale or song. 
 Hence, all she knew of earthly hopes and fears, 
 Life's sins and sorrows ; better known the voice
 
 72 SAMOR, LORD OF [fiOOK IV. 
 
 Belov'd of lark from misty morning cloud 
 
 Blithe carolling, and wild melodious notes 60 
 
 Heard mingling in the summer wood, or plaint, 
 
 By moonlight, of the lone night-warbling bird. 
 
 Nor they of love unconscious, all around 
 
 Fearless, familiar they their descants sweet 
 
 Tun'd emulous. Her knew all living shapes 65 
 
 That tenant wood or rock, dun roe or deer, 
 
 Sunning his dappled side at noontide crouched, 
 
 Courting her fond caress, nor fled her gaze 
 
 The brooding dove, but murmured sourids of joy. 
 
 One summer noon, the silvery birchen shade 70 
 
 Pendant above from dripping crag her brow 
 VeiTd from the fiery sunbeam, gems of spray 
 GleanVd cool around with watery rainbow-light, 
 From a pure streamlet down its rocky bed 
 Dashing sweet music ; she on mossy couch ^6 
 
 Sate listening the blithe thrush, whose airy notes 
 In amorous contention Echo caught 
 Responsive. Sudden droop'd its flagging wing 
 The timorous bird of song, and fluttering sought 
 Soft refuge in the maiden's snowy breast. SO
 
 BOOK IV.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 73 
 
 She o'er the nestling prisoner folding light 
 
 Her careless vest, stood gazing, where, awhile 
 
 Dark in the sun-cloud's white, came fiercely down 
 
 A swooping falcon : at her sight it check'd ; 
 
 Its keen eye bright with joy, th' admiring bird 85 
 
 Fearfully beauteous floated in the air, 
 
 Its silver wings, and glossy plumage gray, 
 
 Glanc'd in the sun light. Up the maiden gaz'd, 
 
 Smiling a pale and terrified delight, 
 
 And seem'd for that lov'd warbler in her breast 90 
 
 Beseeching mercy. 'Mid the green wood sank 
 
 Th' obedient bird ; she, joyous at his flight, 
 
 Her bosom half reveal'd, with gentle hand 
 
 Caressing smooth'd her captive's ruffled plumes. 
 
 Anon around a frighted thankful look f )'> 
 
 Glancing, what seem'd a human shape she saw, 
 
 Or more than human ; stately on his arm 
 
 The falcon sate, and proudly flapp'd his wings. 
 
 She turn'd to fly, yet fled not, turn'd to gaze, 
 
 Yet dared not raise her downcast eye ; she felt 100 
 
 Her warm cheek, why she knew not, blush, her hand 
 
 Unconscious closer drew her bosom's fold.
 
 74 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IV. 
 
 With accent mild the Stranger brief delay 
 
 Entreated ; she, albeit his gentle words 
 
 Fell indistinct on her alarmed ear, 105 
 
 Listening delay 'd, and still at fall of eve 
 
 Delayed, e'en then with dim reverted eye, 
 
 Slow lingering on her winding homeward path. 
 
 No more in pomp of war, or vaulting steed, 
 Joyeth the Son of Vortigern, nor feast 110 
 
 With jocund harpings, and rich-jewelTd dames, 
 Outshining in their pride the starry heavens. 
 
 As fair the spring-flower's bloom, as graceful droops 
 The wild ash spray, as sweet the mountain bee 
 Murmurs, melodious breathes the twilight grove, 1 1 5 
 Unheard of her, unheeded, who erewhile 
 Visited, constant as the morning dew, 
 Those playmates and sweet sisters of her soul. 
 In one sole image sees the enamoured maid 
 Concentrated all qualities of love, 120 
 
 All beauty, grace, and majesty. The step 
 Of tall stag prancing stately down the glen, 
 The keen bright fierceness of the eagle's glance, 
 And airy gentleness of timorous roe,
 
 BOOK IV.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 75 
 
 And, more than all, a voice more soothing soft 1 25 
 
 Than wild-bird's carol, or the murmuring brook, 
 With eloquence endued and melting words 
 So wond'rous ; though unheard since eve, die sounds 
 Come mingling with her midnight sleep, and make 
 Tire damask of her slumbering cheek grow warm. 130 
 
 And she is now beneath the moonlight rock, 
 Chiding the rippling waters that efface 
 That image on its azure breast distinct, 
 Garb, form, and feature, Vortimer ; though mute, 
 As prodigal of fondness, his bright face 135 
 
 Looks up to her with glance of tenderer love, 
 Than wild-dove to its mate at earliest spring. 
 
 Oft hath that moonlight wax'd and wan'd, since last 
 He parted, all of him that could depart ; 
 Save that no distance could remove the words, 1 JO 
 
 The look, the touch, that lives within her still, 
 The promise of return sworn on her lips. 
 
 And hark it comes, his steed along the glen ; 
 She o'er the lucid mirror stooping, braids 
 Hasty her dark-brown tresses, bashful smiles 145 
 
 Of virgin vanity flit o'er her cheek,
 
 76 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IV. 
 
 Tinging its settled paleness. Now 'tis near, 
 
 But ne'er did Vortimer with iron hoof 
 
 Bruise the green flowery sward that Lilian loves. 
 
 A gentle frown of winning fond reproach ] 50 
 
 Arch'd her dark eyelash, as her head she turn'd, 
 
 
 
 Ah ! not on Vortimer. Her father stood 
 Before her, stern and dark, his trembling child 
 Cheer'd nor fond word, nor greeting kiss ; his arm 
 Clasp'd round her, on his steed again he sprung. 155 
 
 And on through moon-light and through shade he 
 
 spurr'd, 
 
 GleanVd like a meteor's track his flinty road, 
 Like some rude hunter with a snow-white fawn, 
 His midnight prey. Anon, the mountain path 
 'Gan upward wind, the fiery courser paus'd 160 
 
 Breathless, and faintly raising her thin form ; 
 " Oh, whither bear ye me ?" with panting voice, 
 MurmurM. Caswallon spake unmov'd, " to death." 
 
 " Death, father, death is comfortless and cold ? 
 Aye me ! when maiden dies, the smiling morn, 165 
 The wild birds singing on the twinkling spray, 
 Wake her no more ; the summer wind breathes soft,
 
 BOOK IV.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 77 
 
 Waving the fresh grass o'er her narrow bed, * 
 
 Gladdening to all but her. Senseless and cold 
 
 
 
 She lies ; while all she lov'd, unheard, unseen, 170 
 
 Mourn round her. 1 ' There broke off her faltering voice. 
 Dimly, with farewell glance, she rov'd around, 
 Never before so beautiful the lake 
 Like a new sky, distinct with stars, the groves, 
 Green banks and shadowy deUs, her haunts of bliss, 175 
 Smil'd, ne'er before so lovely, their last smile ; 
 The fountains seemM to wail, the twilight mists, 
 On the wet leaves were weeping all for her. 
 Had not her own tears blinded her, there too 
 She surely had beheld a youthful form, 1 80 
 
 Wandering the solitary glen. But loud 
 The courser neigh'd, down bursting, wood and rock 
 Fly backward, the wide plain its weary length 
 Vainly outspreads ; and now 'tis midnight deep. 
 Ends at a narrow glen their fleet career. 185 
 
 That narrow glen was pal'd with rude black rocks, 
 There slowly rolPd a brook its glassy depth ; 
 Now in the moon-beams white, now dark in gloom. 
 She hVd, she breathM, she felt, to her denied
 
 78 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IV. 
 
 That sole sad happiness the wretched know, 1 90 
 
 Ev'n from excess of feeling, not to feel. 
 
 Behold her gentle, delicate, and frail, 
 
 Where all around, through rifted rock and wood, 
 
 Grim features glare, huge helmed forms obscure 
 
 People the living gloom, with dreary light 195 
 
 Glimmering, as of the moon from iron arms 
 
 Coldly reflected, lovely stands she there, 
 
 Like a blest Angel 'mid th' accurst of Hell. 
 
 A voice is heard. " Lo, mighty Monarch, here 
 
 The stream of sacrifice ; to man alone 200 
 
 Fits the proud privilege of bloody death 
 
 By shaft or mortal steel ; to Hela's realm, 
 
 Unblooded, woundless, must the maid descend ; 
 
 So in the bright Valhalla shall she crown 
 
 For Woden and his Peers the cup of bliss.* 205 
 
 Her white arms round her father's rugged neck 
 
 Winding with desperate fondness, she 'gan pour, 
 
 As to some dear, familiar, long-lov'd heart, 
 
 Most eloquent her inarticulate prayers. 
 
 Is the dew gleaming on his cheek ? or weeps 210 
 
 The savage and the stern, yet still her sire ?
 
 BOOK IV.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 79 
 
 But some rude arm of one, whose dreadful face 
 
 She dared not gaze on, seized her. Gloomy stood, 
 
 Folding his wolf-skin mantle to conceal 
 
 The shuddering of his huge and mailed form, 215 
 
 Caswallon. Then again the voice came forth, 
 
 " Fast wanes the night, the Gods brook no delay, 
 
 Monarch of Britain, speed." He, at that name 
 
 Shaking all human from his soul, flung back 
 
 The foldings of his robe, and stood elate, 220 
 
 As haughty of some glorious deed, nor knew 
 
 Barbarian blind as proud, who feels no more 
 
 The mercies and affections of his kind, 
 
 Casts off the image of God, a man of ill, 
 
 With all his nature's earth, without its heaven. 225 
 
 A sound is in the silent night abroad, 
 A sound of broken waters ; rings of light 
 Float o'er the dark stream, widening to the shore.* 
 
 * Homo autem quern sors immolandum obtulerat, in f on tern qui ad locum 
 sacrificiorum scaturiebat vivus immergebatur: qui si facile efflaret animam, 
 faustum renunciabant sacerdotes votum : moxqne inde ereptum in vicinum 
 nemus, quod sacrum credcbant, suspendentes, inter Decs translatum affir- 
 mabant. Quo factuin erat, ut beatuin se crederet, qui eo immolatione e vivu
 
 SO SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IV. 
 
 And lo, her re-appearing form, as soft 
 
 As fountain Nymph by weary hunter seen, 230 
 
 In the lone twilight glen ; the moonlight gleam 
 
 Falls tenderly on her beseeching face, 
 
 Like th' halo of expiring Saint, she seems 
 
 Lingering to lie upon the water top, 
 
 As to enjoy once more that light belov'd ; 235 
 
 And tremulously mov'd her soundless lips 
 
 As syllabling the name of Vortimer ; 
 
 Then deep she sank, and quiet the cold stream, 
 
 Unconscious of its guilt went eddying on, 
 
 And looked up lovely to the gazing moon. 240 
 
 What deepest thoughts, young Vortimer, have place 
 Within thy secret breast ? thou slowly rid'st 
 By Eamont's alder brink, thy silver arms 
 Through the brown copse with moonshine glittering dim. 
 Is't that late fight by Thanet, when the fire 245 
 
 cxcederet. Accidit nonnunquam reges ipsos simili sorte delectos victimari. 
 Quod quia faustissimum regno libamen ffistimabatur, totins popnli multi- 
 tude cum summi congratulation >e tarn insignes victimas prosequebantur. 
 Eninrvero sic defunctos non omnino mori.sed tamillos quain se ipsos immor- 
 tales csse. Olaus Magnus, Book 3. cap. 6.
 
 BOOK IV.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 81 
 
 From thine and Horsa's steel, frequent and red, 
 Burnt the pale sea-spray ? or thy stately charge, 
 With show of British war, to curb and check 
 The threatening Caledonian ? or what bathes 
 Youth's cheek hi bitterest and most gall-like tears ; 250 
 Thy father's shame, the curse that, unredeemed 
 By thy young valour, his once kingly name 
 Brands with the deep- sear 'd characters of hate ? 
 
 Or is't that gentle Maid by Derwent lake, 
 Her flower-wreatli'd tresses and her pale sweet smile ? 
 How pleasant, after war and journeying fleet 256 
 
 To Britain's Northern realm, from Kent's white cuffs, 
 Once more to see her early gliding foot 
 Skimming the morning dews, to hear her voice, 
 As artless, as melodious, melt on air, 260 
 
 Among the wood-birds matins to surprise 
 Thine own dear name upon her bashful lips ! 
 
 What floateth down the stream a deep dead white 
 Amid the glittering moonshine, where the stream 
 Runs black beneath the thicket boughs, still white, 265 
 Still slowly drifting, like a dying swan, 
 In snowy beauty, on its watery bier ?
 
 82 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IV. 
 
 Oh, were but Lilian here ! perchance its neck 
 
 May struggle up, to the still waves to chaunt 
 
 Its own soft requiem, the most gentle breath, 270 
 
 Most fancifully, delicately sweet, 
 
 That ever soothes the midnight's dewy calm. 
 
 Near, and more near, it takes a human shape : 
 Some luckless maiden ; haply her lov'd youth 
 Awaits her at the well known place, upbraids 275 
 
 Her broken faith, as fond as Vortimer, 
 As full of love. 'Tis closer now ; he leaps 
 From his high steed, he draws it to the shore. 
 Scarce time for fancy or for fear, the moon 
 Quench 'd her broad light behind a rushing cloud, 280 
 And utter darkness settled round. He sate 
 In solitude, with that cold lifeless thing ; 
 He dared not leave it, for a hideous thought 
 Was in his brain. " Why is it like to thee, 
 My Lilian ! be it any one but thou 285 
 
 Hopelessly cold, irrevocably cold : 
 It cannot be, and yet 'twas like : her height, 
 Her slender waist like Lilian's, and her hair 
 As dainty soft, and trick'd with flowers ; 'tis she,
 
 BOOK IV.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 83 
 
 And I will kiss her, pardon if I err, 290 
 
 If stranger lips round, smooth like thine ; but oh ! 
 
 So coldly passive ! when we parted, thine 
 
 'Thwarted me with a struggling bashfulness, 
 
 And, won at length, with meek surrender swelled. 
 
 Wild and delirious fancy ! many a maid 295 
 
 Hath full round lips, to trick the hair with flowers 
 
 'Tis common vanity. If dead, even dead, 
 
 So chilly senseless Lilian could not be 
 
 To Vortimer's embrace. Oh, but for light, ' 
 
 Though dim and scanty as a glow-worm's fire, 300 
 
 To make me surely, hopelessly undone ! 
 
 Aught but this racking ignorance. Dawn forth, 
 
 Thou tortoise-footed sluggard, Morn ! one beam, 
 
 Thou pitiless cold Moon! 11 Morn dawn'd not yet, 
 
 And pale and thick remained the moonless sky. 305 
 
 Darkness around, the dead within his arms, 
 
 He sate, even like a poison'd man, that waits, 
 
 Yet haunted by a miserable hope, 
 
 The palpable cold sickness in his veins, 
 
 And yearns to live or die, scarce cares he which, 310 
 
 So one were certain. But when slow the dawn
 
 84 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IV. 
 
 UnveiTd its filmy light, he turn'd away 
 
 From that which might be Lilian's face, and pray'd 
 
 Even for the hateful, dun, uncertain gloom, 
 
 As now by habit the slow-creeping grief, 3 1 5 
 
 Winding like ivy round and round his heart, 
 
 Were rapture, and not lightly to be lost. 
 
 It seem'd unconsciously his hand held up, 
 
 Unconsciously declined his heavy eye, 
 
 Where slowly brighten'd on that lifeless face 320 
 
 The intrusive beauty ; one tress lay across, 
 
 Overspreading yet a thin and shadowy doubt ; 
 
 Move it he dare not, but the officious wind 
 
 At length dispersed it. As the thought, the fear 
 
 Were new, were sudden, like the lightning flash 325 
 
 That sears the infant in its mother's arms, 
 
 Smote on him the dire certainty. He clasp'd 
 
 Her damp dead cheek to his. " Thus, meet we thus, 
 
 Lilian, my Lilian, silent, strange, and cold? 
 
 I do not bid thee fondly gaze, nor ask 330 
 
 Long garrulous welcoming, but speak, but move ! 
 
 Lilian ; ne'er thought I, I should live to loathe 
 
 Thy gentle presence. Most ungrateful girl,
 
 BOOK IV.] THE BEIGHT CITY. 85 
 
 And I for thee forsook my warrior trust, 
 
 / 
 
 Was truant to my country's cause for thee. 335 
 
 By the green Tees my murmuring camp upbraids 
 
 My soft unwarlike absence aye, upbraid ! 
 
 Henceforth finds Fortune no where on 1 this soul 
 
 To fasten misery on ; I laugh at P'ate, 
 
 For I am past its wavering malice now. 340 
 
 Thinks she with hollow gauds of fame, and clang 
 
 Of cymbal praise, to lure me forth, a bland 
 
 And courteous parasite in her fond train ? 
 
 No ; hang thou there, my helm, my broad-barr'd shield 
 
 Rust on yon bank, my sword, one duty more, 345 
 
 To shape the smooth turf for my Lilian's grave ; 
 
 Thy bridal bed, sweet Maid, it should have been, 
 
 Where thou and Vortimer had met. Thy grave 
 
 Shall be my field of fame, my wreath of pride 
 
 The flowers the courteous spring shall lavish there ; 
 
 And I'll have glory in my depth of woe 35 1 
 
 A wild and strange delight in my despair 
 
 Not yet, the cold earth must not p.irt us yet, 
 
 One glimmer more from thine eye's dark-fring'd blue, 
 
 One throb, one tremor, though it be the last 355 
 
 In thy soft limbs dead, sightless, icy dead !"
 
 86 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK iv 
 
 O'er his lost Love, thus that sad Prince, undreamed 
 The hell-bom secret of her fate, arraign'd 
 Blind Chance for keen-ey'd Man's earth-sullying sins. 
 
 But southward far the savage fleet bore on. 36O 
 
 On Flamborough-head the morning sun look'd dusk 
 Through their dim sails; where Scarborough's naked foot 
 Spurns back, and saith, " no further," to the waves, 
 From cleft and cave the sullen sea-birds sprang, 
 Wheeling in air with dizzy flight, and shriek'd 365 
 
 Their dreary fears abroad. The Shepherd, wont 
 O'er level Lindesay view the watery plain, 
 Blue trembling to the soft horizon's line, 
 Sees, like a baleful portent from the heavens, 
 That sable train of gloom warp slowly past. 37O 
 
 Th' Icenian coast (that sceptered woman's realm, 
 Bonduca, who from her fair body slaked 
 The stain of Roman lust in Roman blood,) 
 Looks haggard, with distracted faces wan, 
 Hoar age, fair youth, the woman and the child, 375 
 From beech or steep cliff, gazing now to Heaven, 
 Now on that ocean army's watery march. 
 Oh Nelson ! if the unborn soul distinct 
 Amid the loose infinity of space,
 
 BOOK IV.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 87 
 
 Be visited by apparitions dim 380 
 
 Of this earth's fleeting Present, and inhale 
 
 Faint foretaste of its mortal passions, thou, 
 
 When, with usurping prow, that foreign fleet 
 
 Daunted thy Britain, thou didst surely yearn 
 
 To unordain'd maturity to force 385 
 
 Thy unripe being, to foreseize from Fate 
 
 Thy slow existence. Oh, the days must dawn, 
 
 When Saxon and when Briton, melted off 
 
 All feud, all hate, all discord, of their strength 
 
 And valour blent th* abstract and essence rich, 390 
 
 One sword, one name, one glory, and one God, 
 
 From their bright armoury of Captains, thee 
 
 Their chosen thunderbolt shall usher forth, 
 
 From the leagued Nations 1 frantic grasp to wrest 
 
 Britain's allotted sceptre of the sea. 395 
 
 A brighter and more British battlement, 
 Than tender forms of women, the pale dread 
 Of infants and decrepit eld, from Thames 
 To Thanet crown the pale-browed cliffs of Kent, 
 As when from Aulis that immortal fleet 400 
 
 Swept the ^Egean, all the hollow beach,
 
 88 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IV. 
 
 And every Phrygian promontory glow'd 
 
 With brazen battle, here the Morning's Son, 
 
 Swarth Memnon, here the invulnerable strength 
 
 Of Cycnus, here the beardless Troilus, 405 
 
 Unwounded by soft Cresseide's arrowy eyes ; 
 
 Here Hector, seeking through the watery route 
 
 The tall Thessalian prow, with fatal thirst 
 
 Furious even then, the silver-footed Queen 
 
 To orphan of her heaven-soul'd boy. So broad, 410 
 
 So brave in splendour towerYl the rampart bold 
 
 Of British Warriors on that pallid shore. 
 
 On Thanet are the Sea King Brethren met. 
 Their greeting in that fiercely sportive strain 
 That, elevate with imminent success, 415 
 
 Scoffs at past ill. " On Thanet's marge well met, 
 Erie Horsa ; now meseems our spacious realm 
 Is somewhat waste and shrunken, since we last 
 View'd its fair confines, for such noble guests 
 And numerous as attend our royal march, 420 
 
 Our kingdom's harbours shew too close, our land 
 Narrow and brief for such free spirits' range. 
 Ill husbandry ! our fertile province wide
 
 BOOK IV.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 89 
 
 To barter for this spare and meagre isle. 
 
 Horsa, for anchorage and breathing space 425 
 
 Our weary mariners must e'en go sue 
 
 Their gentle Briton neighbours ; Imply they, 
 
 Knowing our native courtesy, may cede 
 
 From their abundance some fair leagues of earth. 
 
 " Ingrate and blind (cried Horsa), they forswear 430 
 Our mild dominion ; to their King's behest 
 Rebellious, they proclaim the British earth 
 The undivided, indivisible right 
 Of their old British sires, nor may't descend 
 Sever'd and mutilate to their British sons. 435 
 
 They shook not off the Roman's gentle sway, 
 To slave it to Barbarians. Specious terms, 
 And with such cogent arguments enforced, 
 We were fain shroud us in this narrow isle 
 From such hot disputants ; a desperate spirit 440 
 
 Was that old Cassar, who first planted here 
 The tree of conquest. 1 '" Holds the King his faith ?'' 
 " Oh, thy fair daughter hath a soft-link'd chain 
 For the old royal Lion ; he obeys, 
 Like a slim greyhound in a silken leash, 445
 
 90 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IV- 
 
 Her eye-won empire. But there walks abroad 
 
 A youngling of the brood ; no blood but mine 
 
 Might flesh the ravine of his dainty jaws. 
 
 This Vortimer, this bright-ey'd, beardless boy. 
 
 Aye, front to front I met him, but their bands 450 
 
 Rent us asunder, and my crest-lopped helm, 
 
 My scatter'd blood, pass'd unavenged. Now earth 
 
 Swallow me in my wrath, heaven's bolt sear up 
 
 My constant heart, if I forget thee, Boy, 
 
 Nor shear the gay sprouts of thy budding fame !" 455 
 
 " A child their mightiest !" " Scornful Hengist, no ; 
 
 A manlier spirit rideth the fierce storm, 
 
 One in whom bravery and counsel vie 
 
 For excellence : wild battle wears the shape 
 
 His will ordains ; and if the rebel swerve, 46*0 
 
 He forceth it with his strong sword t' obey 
 
 His high behest, and take the fate he gives." 
 
 " His name his name !" " The Chieftain of the Vales 
 
 > 
 
 So sounds his title." Then a bitter groan, 
 'Twere hard to tell from what bad passion, hate 465 
 Or dread, or hideous hope, from Hengisfs breast 
 Burst forth, with his mail'd hand he clasp'd his head,
 
 BOOK IV.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 91 
 
 As though to mould the discord of his thoughts 
 
 To one strong mass : then, as the birth were ripe, 
 
 A light and laughing carelessness relax'd 470 
 
 Those knitted furrows, seeni'd his eager soul 
 
 Clasp'd the dim future with a wanton joy. 
 
 But on the mainland, in sad council, meet 
 The Baronage of Britain, tiniorons hearts 
 In hollow unsubstantial valour tricked, 475 
 
 While those who dare shew fear, fear undisguised. 
 Their first fierce rush of courage passed, like flame 
 The mountain heath devouring, with fleet blaze, 
 But transitory ; they of generous thoughts, 
 Of appetites whose sole rich draught is fame, 480 
 
 Wanting the steadfast fuel, the strong wind 
 Wanting of love devotional, heart-deep 
 To their own native land, that passion proud 
 That is all passions, that hath breath to fan 
 To a broad light beyond the noon-day Sun 485 
 
 The waning embers of faint zeal ; they hence 
 Powerful but now with gallant charge to sweep 
 From Kent's fair Valleys Horsa's Saxon train, 
 Downcast in mien and mind, with prospect sad 
 Now count that countless navy's gath eri ng sails. 490
 
 92 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IV. 
 
 Not now the rapture and the restlessness, 
 The riding and the racing, burst and shock, 
 And sudden triumph, or as sudden death ; 
 Now long, long wasting of the limbs and life, 
 The circumspect cold strife, drear march, damp watch, 
 Forepining day, and vigilant sleepless night, 496 
 
 Eternal and interminable war, 
 Before them spreads its comfortless wide tract. 
 Gone all soft joys, all courtly luxuries gone : 
 The languor of the bath, the harp, the song 500 
 
 By twilight in the lady's sleepless porch, 
 The loitering in the sunny colonnade, 
 The circus, and the theatre, the feast 
 Usurping the mild midnight's solemn hours ; 
 From holier hearts, the chapel and the prayer, 505 
 
 The matins, and melodious vesper hymn, 
 The bridal with its gay and jocund route, 
 The baptism with its revel, gone all gone. 
 The burial on cold battle field, unhymn'd, 
 Unmourn'd, untomb'd ; nor taper, tear, nor rite : 510 
 Gentle commercing between God and man 
 Broke off, save hasty prayer ere battle morn, 
 Cold orison upon the midnight watch.
 
 BOOK IV.J THE BRIGHT CITY. 93 
 
 Sole pillar of the quaking temple, firm, 
 Inflexible, on the foundation deep 515 
 
 Of his broad spirit, Samor bears the weight 
 Of imminent danger, and his magic voice 
 With shame, with praise, with soothing, and with scorn, 
 Scatters the languid mist, that wreathes their souls, 
 And from their blanch'd cheeks drives the white dismay- 
 
 What ho ! a trumpet from the Thanet shore, 521 
 Truce for the Saxon's einbassage ; his hand 
 Outholding the white wand of peace, comes on 
 Old Cerdic, and before the assemblage proud 
 Speaks frank and bold that gray Plenipotent. 525 
 
 " Britons, most strange "twill sound, while our vast fleet 
 Affronts your pale cliffs with fierce shew of war, 
 Yet would we peace with Britain. Deem not this, 
 In the blown arrogance of brief success, 
 The hard-wrung cowering of faint fear ; look round 530 
 Your own brief camp, then gaze abroad, our sails 
 Outnumber your thin helms, and that pale fear 
 Is not familiar with our German souls. 
 This know ye further, what we Saxons dare, 
 That dare we nobly, openly. Far south 535
 
 94 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IV. 
 
 A rich and wanton land its champaign green 
 
 Spreads to the sun, there all the basking hills 
 
 Glow with the red wine, there the fresh air floats 
 
 So fragrant, that 'tis pleasure but to breathe, 
 
 Aye one blue summer in the cloudless skies; 540 
 
 And our old Bards have legends, how of yore 
 
 From that soft land bright eagles, fledged with gold, 
 
 Danube or Rhine overflew, their Caesars fired 
 
 Our holy groves with insolent flames, and girt 
 
 Our fierce free foresters with slavish chains, 545 
 
 That scarce bold Herman rent their massive links. 
 
 Not to despoil a mild and gentle isle, 
 
 For full fierce vengeance on Imperial Rome 
 
 Pours forth embattled Germany. Then hear, 
 
 Brave islanders ! our Saxon terms of peace : 550 
 
 For this fair province, our's by royal boon 
 
 Of your King Vortigern give plenteous gold ; 
 
 And with it take the gift, that deepest wrings 
 
 Our German souls to part with, our revenge. 
 
 With most unwonted patience will we bear 555 
 
 Erie Horsa's camp with fierce assault o'erborne, 
 
 And British wolves full-gorged with Saxon gore.
 
 ROOK IV.] THE BRIGHT CITY. J)5 
 
 Then not as foes, but friends, we disembark 
 
 Our sea-worn crews, ourselves, the Chiefs of war, 
 
 In solemn festival to your high Lords, 560 
 
 Pledge on the compact our unwavering faith. 
 
 But if ye still with lavish thirst pursue 
 
 War's crimson goblets, freely let them flow. 
 
 If the fierce pastime of the fire and sword 
 
 Be jocund to ye, ho, let slip the game. 565 
 
 Your city walls are not so airy high, 
 
 But our fleet flames may climb their dizzy towers, 
 
 And revel on their pinnacles of pride ; 
 
 Your breastplates not so adamantine proof, 
 
 But our keen falchions to your hearts may find 570 
 
 A direful passage. And hot we alone, 
 
 Caswallon, at our call, o'er the wide North 
 
 Wakes the hoarse music of his rushing cars ; 
 
 Then choose your bride, oh Britons, lo, each courts 
 
 Your arms with rival beauties, Peace and War." 575 
 
 Thus half in courtesy, defiant half, 
 To wait their answer he withdrew. Ere died 
 His voice, ere from a single lip assent 
 Had parted, Samor rose, and cried aloud N
 
 96 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IV. 
 
 " Britons ! oh Britons ! hinds fear fawning wolves, 580 
 The peasant flies the snake that smoothly coils 
 Round his numb foot its gay enamelTd rings ; 
 I dread a peaceful Saxon. 'Tis too rare, 
 Prodigious, and unnatural, like a star 
 Seen in the noon day. Was't for this, for this 585 
 Round Vortigern's tame soul that proud-ey'd Queen 
 Wound her voluptuous trammels ? did the meek, 
 The hermit Constans, bleed for this ? Oh, Peace 
 Is like the rain from heaven, the clouds must burst 
 Ere earth smile lovely with its lucid dews. 590 
 
 Peace must be won by war, swords, swords alone 
 Work the strong treaty. Shall our slaves, that sold 
 Their blood, their lives unto us for base hire, 
 On our fair provinces set now their price ? 
 Nor feast, nor metal give we, but cold steel ! 595 
 
 Give gold ! as wisely might the miser lead 
 The robber to his treasury, and then cry, 
 " Go hence, and plunder ;" 'twere to tempt, to bribe 
 The undreamed perjury, and spread a lure, 
 To bring the parted spoiler swiftly back. 600 
 
 Outnumber us ! and are we sunk so low
 
 BOOK IV.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 97 
 
 To count our valour by our helmet crests ? 
 Oh, every soul that loves his native land, 
 It is a legion ; where the fire shall sear 
 The hydra heads of liberty ? Our earth 605 
 
 Shall burst to bearing of as boon a crop 
 Of sworded soldiers, as of bladed grass, 
 And all our hills branch out in groves of steel. 
 So thought our fathers, so they bravely strove 
 For the bleak freedom of their steamy moors, 610 
 
 Their black oak's fruitage coarse, and rites uncouth 
 Of Druid, by the beal-fire's lurid flame. 
 But we, less drossy beings, filter'd off 
 Our natures rude and gross, create anew 
 Souls of fine wants and delicate desires, 615 
 
 Rich in the fair civilities of life, 
 Endued with sensitiveness keen and clear 
 Of earth's best pleasures, shall we tamely yield 
 Our beauteous Britain, our own pleasant isle, 
 To dreary-soul'd Barbarians ? 'Tis not now 620 
 
 Merely to 'scape the heaven-branded name of slaves, 
 For license to breathe where we choose, and wield 
 At our own wayward will unfettered limbs. 
 
 H
 
 98 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IV. 
 
 Oh, if we fail, free Christians must sink down 
 
 To Heathen slaves, our gilded palace roofs 625 
 
 Shout the loose riot of new Lords, our wives 
 
 Be like base plunder, vilely bought and sold ; 
 
 Worse shame ! worse sin ! the murky Heathen groves 
 
 O'er our fallen Churches their pale gloom advance ; 
 
 Our holy air go hot and reeking up 630 
 
 With impious incense to blood-beverag'd Gods ; 
 
 The deep damnation of a Pagan creed 
 
 Rot in our children's souls ! Then be our peace 
 
 Not hasty, as of timorous souls that snatch 
 
 At every feeble reed, but stoop we to it 635 
 
 As with a conqueror's pride, with steel-glov'd hand 
 
 Seal our stern treaty. So if they depart, 
 
 And with their spread sails hunt their mad emprize ; 
 
 But while one prow dash menace on our shore, 
 
 Our earth be patient of one armed hoof, 640 
 
 Tame treaty, temporizing truce, avaunt ! 
 
 The foreign banner that usurps our winds, 
 
 Be it a foe, strange steel that doth divert 
 
 One ray of sunlight from our shores, be that 
 
 The scope and centre of all British swords. 645
 
 BOOK IV.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 99 
 
 So build we up our peace on the strong rock 
 
 Of brave defiance, cement it with scorn, 
 
 Set bright-arm'd Valour in its jealous porch, 
 
 Bold warden ; from our own intrinsic strength, 
 
 Not from the mercy of our foes, be free." 650 
 
 Oh the soul's fire, of that swift element 
 Th' intensest, broadest spreads and nimblest mounts, 
 With flaky fferce contagion ; it hath caught 
 In that Baronial conclave, it hath blazed. 
 But then rose Elidure, with bashful mien, 655 
 
 Into himself half shrinking, from his lips 
 The dewy words dropt, delicate and round, 
 And crept into the chambers of the soul, 
 Like the bee's liquid honey : " And thou too, 
 Enamour 'd of this gaudy murderer, War ! 660 
 
 Samor, in hunger's meagre hour who scorns 
 A fair-skinn'd fruit, because its inward pulp 
 May be or black or hollow ? this bland Peace 
 May be a rich-rob'd evil ; war, stern war, 
 Wears manifest its hideousness, and bares 665 
 
 Deformities the Sun shrinks to behold. 
 Because 'tis in the wanton roll of chance
 
 100 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IV. 
 
 That he may die, who desperately leaps 
 
 Into the pit, with mad untimely arms 
 
 To clasp annihilation ? Were no path 670 
 
 But through the grim and haunted wilds of strife, 
 
 To the mild shrine of peace, maids would not wear 
 
 Their bridal chaplets with more joy, than I 
 
 Th 1 oppressive morion : then th 1 old vaunt were wise, 
 
 To live in freedom, or for freedom die. (>75 
 
 Then would I too dissemble, with vain boast, 
 
 Our island's weakness ; wear an iron front, 
 
 Though all within were silken, soft, and smooth. 
 
 For what are we, slight sunshine birds, thin plum'd 
 
 For dalliance with the mild, luxurious airs, G'SO 
 
 To grapple with these vultures, whose broad vans, 
 
 Strung with their icy tempests, but with wind 
 
 Of their forth rushing down would swoop us ? Then, 
 
 Then, Samor, eminent in strength and power, 
 
 It were most proud for thee alone to break 685 
 
 The hot assault, with single arm t' arrest 
 
 The driving ruin ruin, ah ! too sure. 
 
 Oh, 'twere most proud ; to us sad comfort ; sunk, 
 
 Amerc'd of all our fair, smooth sliding hours,
 
 BOOK IV.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 101 
 
 Our rich abodes the wandering war-flame's feast. 690 
 
 Samor, our fathers fear'd not death ; cast off 
 
 Most careless their coarse lives ; with nought to lose, 
 
 They fear'd no loss ; our breathing is too rich, 
 
 Too precious this our sensitive warm mould, 
 
 Its joyances, affections, hopes, desires, 695 
 
 For such light venture. Oh, then, be we not 
 
 Most wretched from the fear of wretchedness ? 
 
 If war must be, in God's name let war be i 
 
 But, oh, with clinging hand, with lingering love, 
 
 Clasp we our mistress, Peace. Gold ! what is gold ? 700 
 
 My fair and wealthy palace set to sale, 
 
 Cast me a beggar to the elements' scorn ; 
 
 But leave me peace, oh, leave my country peace, 
 
 And I will call it mercy, bounty, love !" 
 
 So spake he, with vain shew of public zeal 705 
 
 Blazoning his weak intent ; and so prevailed 
 His loose and languid eloquence. Each rent 
 The golden frontlet from his helm, cast down 
 His breastplate's golden scales, in contest free 
 Prodigal rivals at rich price to buy 710 
 
 That baleful merchandize, their country's shame.
 
 102 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IV. 
 
 Oh, where the royal Brethren now? the pride 
 Serene of Emrys ? where thy Dragon crest, 
 Prince Uther ? for thy voice, young Vortimer ! 
 Seal, Samor, thy prophetic lips ; in vain 715 
 
 The trumpet of thy warning shouts abroad. 
 Will the winds hear thee ? will the rocks obey ? 
 Or hearts than wind more light, than rocks more cold ? 
 
 Gray Cerdic hath their faint award ; they part 
 Jocund, and light of hope; but Samor grasp'd 720 
 The hand of Elidure : " My childhood's friend, 
 I sue thee by all joys we two have shared, 
 Our interchange of souls, communion free 
 Of every thought and motion of our hearts, 
 Our infant pastimes, and our graver joys, 725 
 
 Go not thou to this feast." " Doth Samor go ?" 
 ** Britain must have no danger, gentle friend, 
 That Samor shares not ; thou art noted well 
 To hate the riotous and brawling feast. 
 With thy fond bride, thy Evelene, await 730 
 
 Silent the knowledge whether thou or I 
 Have errM in this day's council."" No, best friend, 
 Samor must have no danger Elidure
 
 BOOK IV.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 103 
 
 Shares not'; oh, why this cold and gloomy dread ? 
 In the deep centre of our isle be held 735 
 
 This dreaded banquet. Samor, ne'er thought I, 
 While my mild blood ran constant, thine would flag, 
 And curdle with the pallid frost of fear." 
 
 Tis famed, that then, albeit amid the rush 
 Of clamorous joy unmark'd in drearier days 740 
 
 Remembered, signs on earth, and signs in heaven, 
 With loud and solemn interdict arraign'd 
 That hasty treaty ; maniacs kindled up 
 With horrible intelligence the pits 
 Of their deep hollow eyes, and meaning strange 745 
 Gave order to their wandering utterance : streamed 
 Amid the dusky woods broad sheeted flames ; 
 The blue fires on the fen at noon-day danc'd 
 Their wavering morrice, and the bold ey'd wolves 
 Howl'd on the sun. Life ominous and uncouth 750 
 Seiz'd upon ancient and forgotten things ; 
 The Cromlechs rock'd, the Druid circles wept 
 Cold ruddy dews ; as of that neighbouring feast 
 Conscious, the tall Stone Henge did shrilly shriek 
 As with a whirlwind, though no cloud was mov'd 755
 
 104 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IV 
 
 In the still skies. A wailing, as of harps, 
 
 Sad with no mortal sorrow, sail'd abroad 
 
 Through the black oaks of Mona. Old deep graves 
 
 Were restless, and arnTd bones of buried men 
 
 Lay clattering in their stony cells. Twas faith, 760 
 
 White women upon sable steeds were seen 
 
 In fleet career 'neath the rank air ; the earth 
 
 Gave up no echo to their noiseless feet, 
 
 And on them look'd the moon with leprous light 
 
 Prodigious ; haply like those slender shapes 765 
 
 In the ice desart by Caswallon seen. 
 
 From Mona to the snowy Dover cliffs, 
 
 From Skiddaw to St. Michael's vision'd mount, 
 
 Unknown from heaven, or earth, or nether pit, 
 
 Unknown or from the living or the dead, 770 
 
 From being of this world, or nature higher, 
 
 Passed one long shriek, whereat old Merlin leap'd 
 
 From his hoar haunt by Snowdon, and in dusk 
 
 And dreary descant mutter'd all abroad 
 
 What the thin air grew cold and dim to hear. 775 
 
 'Tis said, rude portents in the Church of God, 
 With insolent noises, brake the holy calm.
 
 BOOK IV.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 105 
 
 The gray owl hooted at the noontide chaunt, 
 
 The young owl clamoured at the matin song, 
 
 The pies and ravens, from the steeple top, J80 
 
 To the priest's Benedicite moan'd back 
 
 A sullen hoarse Amen, and obscene bats 
 
 Around the altar candlesticks did flap 
 
 Their leathern wings. Yea, from his stricken hand 
 
 The white stol'd Bishop to the earth let fall 785 
 
 The consecrated chalice ; th' holy wine 
 
 (Ineffable !) flowed on the pavement stone.
 
 106 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK V. 
 
 "... i . s.-Vi 1 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 SWAN of the Ocean, on thy throne of waves 
 
 Exultant dost thou sit, thy mantling plumes 
 
 Ruffled with joy, thy pride of neck elate, 
 
 To hail fair peace, like Angel visitant, 
 
 Descending, amid joy of earth and heaven, 5 
 
 To bless thy fair abode. The laughing skies 
 
 Look bright, oh, Britain ! on thy hour of bliss. 
 
 In sunshine fair the blithe and bounteous May 
 
 O'er hill and vale goes dancing ; blooming flowers 
 
 Under her wanton feet their dewy bells 1 
 
 Shake joyous ; clouds of fragrance round her float. 
 
 City to city cries, and town to town 
 
 Wafting glad tidings : wide their flower-hung gates 
 
 Throw back the churches, resonant with pomp
 
 BOOK V.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 107 
 
 Of priests and people, to the Lord their prayers 1 5 
 
 Pouring, the richest incense of pure hearts. 
 
 With garland and with song the maids go forth, 
 
 And mingle with the iron ranks of war 
 
 Their forms of melting softness ; gentle gales 
 
 Blow music o'er the festal land, from harp 20 
 
 And merry rebeck, till the floating air 
 
 Seem harmony ; still all fierce sounds of war ; 
 
 No breath within the clarion's brazen throat ; 
 
 Soft slumber in the war-steed's drooping mane. 
 
 Not in the palace proud, or gorgeous hall, 25 
 
 The banqueting of Peace ; on Ambri plain 
 Glitter the white pavilions to the sun 
 Their snowy pomp unfolding ; there the land 
 Pours its rejoicing multitudes to gaze, 
 Briton and Saxon, in majestic league, 30 
 
 Mingling their streaming banners blazon'd waves. 
 Blithe as a virgin bridal, rich and proud 
 As gorgeous triumph for fair kingdom won, 
 Flows forth the festal train , with arms elate 
 The Mothers bear their infants to behold 35 
 
 That Hengist, whose harsh name ere while their cheeks
 
 108 SAMOR, LORD OF [fiOOK V. 
 
 Blanch'd to cold paleness ; they their little hands 
 
 Clap, smiling, half delighted, half in dread. 
 
 Upon that hated head, from virgin hands, 
 
 Rain showers of bloom; beneath those hated feet 40 
 
 Is strewn a flowery pavement ; harp and voice 
 
 Hymn blessings on the Saxon, late denounced 
 
 Th' implacable, inexorable foe. 
 
 Lordly they pass'd and lofty ; other land 
 Save Britain, of such mighty despots proud, 45 
 
 Had made a boast of slavery ; giant men 
 In soul as body. Not the Goth more dread, 
 Tall Alaric, who through imperial Rome 
 March'd conqueror, nor that later Orient chief, 
 Turban'd Mohammed, who o'er fall'n Byzance 50 
 
 His moony ensign planted : they, unarm 'd, 
 Yet terrible, went haughty on, of power 
 A world to vanquish, not one narrow isle. 
 
 The hollow vault of heav'n is rent with shouts, 
 Wild din and hurry of tumultuous joy 55 
 
 Waves the wide throng, for lo, in perfect strength, 
 Consummate height of manhood, but the glow, 
 The purple grace of youth, th' ambrosial hue
 
 BOOK V.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 109 
 
 Of life's fresh morning, on his glossy hair, 
 
 His smooth and flushing features, Samor comes. 60 
 
 His name is on the lisping infant's lips, 
 
 Floats on the maiden's song ; him warrior men 
 
 Hail with proud crest elate ; him present, deem 
 
 Peace timorous mercy on the invading foe. 
 
 Around the Kings of Britain, some her shame, 65 
 
 Downy and silken with luxurious ease, 
 
 Others more hardy, in whose valiant looks 
 
 Were freedom and command : of princely stem 
 
 Alone were absent the forsaken King 
 
 And his sad Son, and those twin royal youths, 70 
 
 Emrys and Uther ; nor the Mountain Lord, 
 
 With that young eaglet of his race, deign share 
 
 The gaudy luxuries of peace ; save these, 
 
 All Britain's valiance, princedom, and renown 
 
 March 'd jubilant, with symphony and song. 75 
 
 Noon ; from his high empyreal throne the Sun 
 Floods with broad light the living plain ; more rich 
 Ne'er blaz'd his summer couch, when sea and sky, 
 In royal pomp of cloudy purple and gold, 
 Curtain his western chambers, breathing men 80
 
 110 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK V. 
 
 Gorgeous and numberless as those bright waves 
 
 Flash, in their motion, the quick light ; aloof 
 
 The banqueters, like Gods at nectar feast, 
 
 Sit sumptuous and pavilion'd ; all glad tones 
 
 From trembling string, or ravishing breath or voice, 85 
 
 In clouds of harmony melt up to Heaven ; 
 
 Overwhelming splendour all of sight and sound, 
 
 One rich oppression of eye, ear, and mind. 
 
 Midnight, in darkness heavy, thick, and chill ; 
 In silence rigid, deep and breathless, stands 90 
 
 On the wide plain one lonely man. Wan light, 
 From dim decaying firebrand in his grasp, 
 Feebly, with gleam inconstant, shews his mien 
 Hopeless, too haughty to despair : His eye, 
 As jealous of dark foe, goes wandering round : 95 
 
 Yet seems he one more fear'd than fearing ; rent 
 His robes' rich splendour ; and his ponderous arm, 
 With its wild weapon wearily declined, 
 Bears token of rude strife though rude, though fierce, 
 By thy brow's pride, thou sad and stately Man ! 100 
 No faint inglorious craven hast thou shrunk, 
 In dread of death, or avarice base of blood.
 
 BOOK V.] THE BRIGHT CITY. Ill 
 
 At that dead hour, in Caesar's city * gates 
 The Briton wives and mothers sate ; at eve 
 They from the plain, had homeward turn'd, to rock 105 
 Their infants 1 rosy sleep, or trim the couch 
 For him belov'd and loving ; some, from joy 
 Sleepless, sate watching the gray shadows fall, 
 In luxury of impatience ; slumbering some, 
 From weariness of pleasure, in light dreams 110 
 
 Liv'd o'er again the morning's jocund hours. - 
 
 That hour, one horn with long and solemn blast 
 Went wailing up the heavens ; less shrill, less drear, 
 Blew through the fatal Roncesvalles pass, 
 In after times, Roland's deep bugle, heard 115 
 
 Dolorous, so poets feign, on Paris' wall. 
 The air seem'd shivering where the knell pass'd on, 
 As with a cold wind shudder'd the thick trees. 
 
 But those fond women hail that brazen sound, 
 Joy's harbinger, sweet signal of return ; 1 20 
 
 As the fond maid her lover's moonlight lute, 
 Thep drink in its dire harshness, busy round 
 Gazing, if aught neglected, careless aught 
 
 * Salisbury. Sarisburga, qu. Csesaris burga.
 
 112 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK V- 
 
 Belie the welcome, or to wakening child 
 
 Smile the glad tidings, or along the walls 125 
 
 People the dim air with the forms they love. 
 
 Oh, fond of fancy ! credulous of hope ! 
 
 Ye hear but pleasure in that horn ; but see, 
 
 In the dim tumult of yon moving lights, 
 
 Swift homeward hurrying. Now the slow delay 130 
 
 Is but a lengthen 'd rapture : steps are heard, 
 
 And figures indistinct are in the gloom 
 
 Advancing ; yet no festal pomp proclaim 'd 
 
 By music's merry breath, but mute and slow, 
 
 As from dark funeral : haply wearied all 135 
 
 With the long revel day. But ye 'gin trace 
 
 Some well-known gesture, dear familiar step, 
 
 Each boastful of her lover's speedier pace. 
 
 Saxon the first, how wearily slow they pass ! 
 
 Still are they Saxon, Saxon still, the last 140 
 
 Saxon ; in wonder they, nor yet in fear, 
 
 Question the dark air with their searching eyes, 
 
 Incredulous arraign the deepening gloom, 
 
 That with an envious melancholy shroud 
 
 Pah's the long-look 'd for, late-returning. Them, 145
 
 BOOK V.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 113 
 
 Ah, deeper darkness covers ; to their homes 
 Never more to return ! Lo, all at once 
 The bloody knives, borne boastful, their red light 
 Flash murtherous ; known is all ere aught is fear*d. 
 And yet are there unfaded on their brows 150 
 
 The garlands that ye fondly wove, the air 
 Not silent of your blessings. From these walls, 
 At morn, three hundred breathing valiant men 
 Went proudly forth in solitary life 
 Moves o'er the plain that one majestic shape, 1 55 
 
 Like Spirit of Vengeance o'er some ghastly land 
 That scofFd erewhile, in high portentous guilt, 
 The slumbering of God's wrath, now blasted lies, 
 Infecting with the ashes of its wreck 
 The late chastising heavens. So lone, so dark, I GO 
 But pale with human sorrows at his heart, 
 The King of that Bright City in the Vales, 
 Walks the waste gloom, around him the cold winds 
 Speak voices from the dead, and oft he turns, 
 Brandishing defiance on the air, and smites 165 
 
 Some seeming Saxon with his smouldering brand. 
 Now rests he in that old mysterious ring, 
 
 i
 
 J 14 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK V. 
 
 The dateless and the numberless Stonehenge, 
 That is, and hath been, whence or how, none knows. 
 But even the Master Druid with slow dread 1 70 
 
 Its dangerous precincts trod, though noontide bright 
 Reveird in the rich heavens, and holiest harps 
 Purified the calm air : rose like the wreck 
 Of some old world the shadowy temple huge, 
 Shapeless magnificence ! here souls profane 175 
 
 DeemM rites so potent held as made the oaks 
 Stand still and motionless 'mid the wild storm, 
 And with a light, nor of the stars nor moon, 
 Sheeted the midnight heavens : deem'd some, more sage, 
 Th' Invisible his cloudy presence here 1 80 
 
 Embodied, and with wisdom heavenly and high 
 Full feasted the tranced soul ; all the dire place 
 Fled, fearing more, unknowing what they fearVL 
 
 Amid those stony giants that uptower 
 In massy darkness, or in the wind's rush 185 
 
 Seem swaying on their dizzy balance, stands, 
 If virtue of aught earthly may feel awe, 
 Awe-struck the Christian ; now his calmer soul 
 Had time for grief, for memory, o'er him flows
 
 BOOK V.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 1 15 
 
 Deep-lulling quiet ; here the light and gay 190 
 
 Had felt a motion on their lips like prayer. 
 Nor marvel then that holy thoughts oppressed 
 With a full extacy the Christian soul. 
 
 " Merciful ! by whose will mine arm hath pav'd 
 With the strewn corpses of my murtherous foes 195 
 A dismal passage, while around me Death 
 Mow'd Britain with his secret scythe ! oh God, * 
 
 I thank thee, if I die, a warrior's death 
 May be my brave distinction : if this life 
 Be worthy thy upholding, though all lost, 200 
 
 The friendships and the prides, that made its course 
 Blissful and bright, I thank thee for my life: 
 
 Thank thee, that yet on British earth shall breathe 
 
 A Briton, resolute on that last crag, 
 
 That knows not the rude Saxon's tread, to rise 205 
 
 Erect in stately freedom, and o'er-brood 
 
 The dim and desert beacon of revenge. 
 
 Or deign'st thou this low frame of dust to choose 
 
 Thy minister of wrath, I not with prayer 
 
 Vain and presumptuous, summon from the clouds 210 
 
 Thy thunders, nor invoke prodigious Death
 
 116 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK V. 
 
 To smite my foes. Hopes perishable man, 
 
 At his wild bidding, thou the laws wilt burst, 
 
 Wherewith thou fetterest thy Omnipotence ? 
 
 Harden to stern endurance these frail limbs, 215 
 
 With adamantine patience sheathe my soul, 
 
 That nor pale shrinking >f the coward flesh, 
 
 Nor inward palsying swerve from its brave scope 
 
 'Fh' aspiring spirit ; grant thou this sole prayer, 
 
 And I thus lone, thus desolate proclaim, 220 
 
 Single, yet dauntless, to yon Saxon host 
 
 Stubborn defiance, haughty to bear up 
 
 The wreck of Britain with unstooping neck." 
 
 Now over all the orient sky, the Morn 
 Spread rosy in her youth of light, as fair, 225 
 
 As bright her rising on this plain of death, 
 As yesterday, when festal multitudes 
 Greeted her dawn ; so vain the boast of man, 
 That earth, and air, and sky, their mimic hues 
 Borrow from his fantastic woes and joys. 230 
 
 And o'er the plain began his lonely way 
 The Warrior, on his brow the unheeded wind 
 Fanned freshness, and the wandering lark unheard,
 
 BOOK V.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 117 
 
 Quiver'd her blithe song, like an airy voice, 
 
 Bathing in light. Anon a dale beneath 235 
 
 Open'd, and slow withdrew the misty veil 
 
 That o'er her hamlets roofs and bowery trees 
 
 Ting'd with a liquid azure the thin air. 
 
 Along the winding path he roves, that none, 
 
 Save feet habituate to hs maze, could thread, 240 
 
 Heedless that here to Elidure's green home 
 
 He came, unweeting visitant. Within, 
 
 Breathless, as though she listened in her sleep, 
 
 Close to the door, as jealous lest some ear 
 
 Earlier than her own should catch the sound 245 
 
 Of Elidure's returning tread, or voice 
 
 Anticipate the welcome of her own, 
 
 Reclin'd the bride, soft Evelene. The step 
 
 Up from the pillowing hand her flushing cheek 
 
 Waken'd, or ere the threshold he overpast, 250 
 
 The form yet indistinct to her quick sight, 
 
 MurmurM her fond upbraiding. " Truant Lord, 
 
 Art thou too chang'd, thou too of midnight feast 
 
 Enamour'd ? time hath been the rosy cup, 
 
 Thou Saxon in thy revels, had looVd pale 255 
 
 To Evelene's cheek. 11 'Tis wretched solace, yet
 
 118 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK V. 
 
 'Tis solace in the drear extreme of grief, 
 
 To find one human heart whose deeper woe 
 
 Makes weakness of our wailing. Though alone 
 
 Of the fray's dizzy tumult lay distinct 260 
 
 Elidure's image on the Wanderer's soul, 
 
 His image as beneath the Saxon steel 
 
 Dying, he struggled back to life from joy 
 
 His stern friend to behold with fiery brand 
 
 Piercing his path of flight, less bitter seem'd 265 
 
 His cup of woe, when from him sprang that bride, 
 
 Nor knew him ; knew him but no Elidure. 
 
 Then sued for tidings, and with all her soul 
 
 * 
 
 Listened, but could not hear, mistrusting all 
 While yet but fearing, but when all assured, 270 
 
 Mistrusting even her fears, even then to hope 
 Clinging with desperate energy of soul. 
 Her Samor left in that dead night of mind, 
 When madness were a comfort, all wild whirl, 
 AH dizzy hurry of rack'd sense were rich 275 
 
 Were rapturous to that blank and dismal void, 
 When one incessant miserable thought 
 Blends with the life, the being of the spirit. 
 Him scared no Saxon clarion, the drear blast
 
 BOOK V.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 119 
 
 Winding of fleet pursuit ; came o'er his soul 280 
 
 His own, his wedded Emeric, her babes 
 
 Hushing, while greedily with ear and soul 
 
 She drinks each sound the busy babbling fame 
 
 Spreads on the wandering winds ; the fleetest steed 
 
 Of Elidure bestriding, still he moves 285 
 
 A tardy laggard to his soul's desire. 
 
 Sedulous each throng'd haunt of man avoids 
 
 His jealous speed, and still from town and tower 
 
 Came blithely forth the jubilant hymns of peace ; 
 
 Still unextinguish'd their glad brilliance, wan'd 290 
 
 In morn's gray mists the yellow festal fires. 
 
 Day pass'd, day sank, 'tis now the dewy eve, 
 Beneath him, in the soft and silent light, 
 Spread the fair Valleys, mead and flowery lawn 
 With their calm verdure interspers'd allay 295 
 
 The forest's ponderous blackness, or retire 
 Under the chequering umbrage of dim groves, 
 Whose shadows almost slumber : far beyond 
 Huge mountains, brightening in their secret glens, 
 Their cold peaks bathe in the rich setting sun. 300 
 
 Sweeps through the midst broad Severn, deep and dark
 
 120 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK V. 
 
 His monarchy of waters, its full flow 
 
 Still widening, as he scorned to bear the main 
 
 Less tribute than a sea ; or inland roird 
 
 Ambitious ocean, of his tide to claim 305 
 
 The wealthy vassalage. High on its marge 
 
 Shone the Bright City, in her Roman pomp, 
 
 Of bath, and theatre, and basilic, 
 
 Smooth swelling dome, and spiring obelisk, 
 
 Glittering like those more soft and sunny towns 310 
 
 That bask beneath the azure southern skies 
 
 In marble majesty. Silent she stands 
 
 In the rich quiet of the golden light. 
 
 The banner on her walls its cumbrous folds 
 
 Droops motionless. But Samor turn'd aloof, 315 
 
 Where lordly his fair dwelling's long arcade 
 
 On its white shafts the tremulous glittering light 
 
 Cherish d, and starry with the river dews 
 
 Its mantle of gay flowers, the odorous lawn 
 
 Down sloped, as in the limpid stream to bathe. 320 
 
 No watch-dog, with glad bark and fawning joy, 
 His Lord saluted. Samor mark'd it not. 
 No menial caught the slack rein from his hand.
 
 BOOK V.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 121 
 
 He heeded not. No swift familiar step 
 
 Forth started at his coming ; face of joy 325 
 
 Brightened not vacant all ; yet heeds he not. 
 
 No infants, in their giddy, tottering speed, 
 
 Clung round his knees. So early at their rest, 
 
 Thought the fond father. Emeric's chamber door 
 
 Stands open ; he but paused his name to hear 330 
 
 Low mingled with her murmur'd oriscfas : 
 
 All hush'd as in a tomb ; perchance she sleeps, 
 
 At his long absence heartsick. He the folds 
 
 Gently withdrawing of his nuptial bed, 
 
 As with the amorous violence of his lips 335 
 
 To wake her to delicious fear, bends down. 
 
 Cold, cold as marble, the forsaken bed 
 
 Received the fervent pressure. Back he sprung, 
 
 And strange, like one that moveth in his sleep, 
 
 Stood with loose arms and leaden listless gaze. 340 
 
 Unconscious, to the city walls, far seen 
 
 From that high chamber, rove his eyes : behold 
 
 Against the Sun's last light a wandering breeze 
 
 Swells up the heavy banner ; in the gleam 
 
 The White Horse of the Saxon shakes' his mane. 345
 
 122 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK V. 
 
 Then felt he the blank silence, then perceiv'd 
 The tumult, and rude disarray that marr'd 
 The face of his fair dwelling. Forth he rush'd, 
 As eager that his soul at one wild draught 
 Might glut itself with perfect woe, all ill 350 
 
 Exhausted, laugh drained destiny to scorn. 
 Cradle and infants couch with frantic hand 
 Hurrying he explores, the sad chill void 
 Almost delights. Now on the river brink 
 He watches yon huge forms that pace the walls, 355 
 Saxon their long black lances, Saxon helms 
 Nod o'er their lofty brows terrific gloom. 
 
 Lo ! at his feet, beneath a primrose bed, 
 Hah veiPd, and branching alder that o'er-droop'd 
 Its dark green canopy, a slumbering child 360 
 
 If slumber might be calld, that but o'erspread 
 A wan disquiet o'er the withered cheek, 
 Chok'd the thin breath that through the pallid lip 
 Scarce struggled, clos'd not the soft sunken eye. 
 Well Samor knew her, of his love first pledge, 365 
 
 First, playfullest, and gentlest : he but late 
 Luxurious in the fulness of his woe,
 
 BOOK V.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 123 
 
 Clings to this "lorn hope like a drowning man, 
 
 Not yet, not yet in this rude world alone. 
 
 Lavish of fond officious zeal, he bathes 370 
 
 With water from the stream her marble brow, 
 
 Chafes her ; and with his own warm breath recalls 
 
 The wandering life, that like a waning lamp 
 
 Glimmer'd anon, then faded : but when slow 
 
 Unfix'd her cold unmeaning eye regain'd 375 
 
 Brief consciousness, powerless her languid arm 
 
 Down fell again, half lifted in his hair 
 
 To wreathe as it was wont, with effort faint 
 
 Strove her hard features for a woefull smile : 
 
 And the vague murmurs of her lips 'gan fall 380 
 
 Intelligible to his ear alone. 
 
 " And thou art come too late yet thou art come," 
 
 He soothing her with hope, he knew most false, 
 
 Slow model I'd from her broken faltering voice 
 
 One sad continuous story. " 'Twas at eve 385 
 
 We went to rest, I never slept so soft ; 
 
 Our mother lulPd us with assurance sweet 
 
 Of thy returning. By and by I woke, 
 
 But the bright morning was not shining fair,
 
 124 S AMOR, LORD OF [BOOKV. 
 
 Nor the birds singing as they us'd. I saw, 390 
 
 By a dim dusky light, huge iron men 
 
 With hair like fire, and their fierce voices spake 
 
 Strange language : of my prayers I thought, and strove 
 
 My eyes to close, still those grim-visag'd men 
 
 Stood in the wavering darkness by the light 395 
 
 Of their blue weapons then they went away. 
 
 I crept out to my mother's couch ; she lay 
 
 Asleep, but not as I have seen her sleep, 
 
 When I have stol'n at morn to look on her, 
 
 And thou hast laid me by her quiet side. 400 
 
 She shiver'd in her sleeping, and her skin 
 
 Was chilly to the touch, yet, oh to sleep, 
 
 Even as she did, I long'd ; for they came back, 
 
 Those shapes in all their darkness, all their light, 
 
 Before their rugged faces I felt cold 405 
 
 As in the snow time; my eyes could not see, 
 
 Oh, but I heard a dizzy sound, like shrieks 
 
 Of many voices all at once. I thought 
 
 Rude hands were busy on my mother's couch, 
 
 As though to bear her thence yet woke she not. 410 
 
 Oh Father, I have never look'd on death,
 
 BOOK V.J THE BRIGHT CITY. 125 
 
 But she was dead, I felt that she was dead. 
 
 I could not breathe, yet from my thirsty throat 
 
 My voice was bursting, but down o'er me fell 
 
 The foldings of the couch long, long it seem'd, 415 
 
 Ere from that cumbrous weight I struggled forth, 
 
 Then all was silent, all except the dash 
 
 Of distant oars ; I cried aloud, and heard 
 
 But my own voice, I search' d, yet found I none ; 
 
 Not one in all these wide and lofty halls, 420 
 
 My mother, my sweet brothers gone, all gone. 
 
 Almost I wish'd those fierce men might return 
 
 To bear me too in their dread arms away. 
 
 Hither I wandered, for the river's sound 
 
 Was joyous to the silence that came cold 425 
 
 Over my bosom, since the Sun hath shone, 
 
 Yet it seeni'd dark but oh, 'tis darker now, 
 
 Darker, my Father, all within cold, cold. 
 
 The soft warmth of thy lips no more can reach 
 
 This shuddering in my breast yet kiss me still." 430 
 
 Vain, all in vain, that languid neck no more 
 Rises to meet his fondness, that pale hand 
 Drops from his shoulder, that wooed voice hath spent
 
 126 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK V. 
 
 Its last of sweetness : wanted this alone 
 
 That could enhance his agony, baffled hope. 435 
 
 Quiet and cool the deep tide at his feet 
 
 Rolls with a tranquil murmur ; one lone gleam 
 
 Still lingering from the sunken Sun, beneath 
 
 The moving surface, lightens its cold depth. 
 
 How pleasant in its secret caves to quench 440 
 
 The soul, the body's fever ; to cast off 
 
 This restless, trembling consciousness, that clings 
 
 Enamour'd to its anguish, sedulous 
 
 To nurse its own disquiet : not to feel, 
 
 Though cast by wandering waves on Emeric's grave ; 
 
 Though Saxon barks triumphant bound above, 445 
 
 To feel not, and have freedom though in death. 
 
 For why this barren wilderness of earth 
 
 Still haunt, man's pity, and the arch fiend's scoff ; 
 
 Why to the wearying wretchedness of life 450 
 
 Cling with a coward fondness ? but a step 
 
 To quiet to forgetfulness, a step. 
 
 But alien to proud Samor those bad thoughts 
 Startled his nature, burnt his soul with shame, 
 That such unholy musings dare intrude 455
 
 BOOK V.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 127 
 
 On its sad sanctity ; upright he sprung ; 
 
 Oh, not in vain a Christian, with clenched hand 
 
 And inward rack convulsive of chok'd pain, 
 
 Forc'd calmness to liis brow : his hollow voice 
 
 Wrought to a mournful fortitude. " Oh thou, -160 
 
 Glorious in thy prosperity of crime, 
 
 Hengist, and thou that barter'st thy old fame 
 
 For sweet lascivious chambering, hast unkingM 
 
 Thy stately soul within the wreathing arms 
 
 Of that fair Saxon, in loose dalliance soft 465 
 
 To steep the inebriate sense, on Samor's state 
 
 Look, and be pale with envy ; he dare stand 
 
 Lofty beneath yon starry throne of God, 
 
 And bless him, that his fate is scant and poor 
 
 In joys like your's, by all your pomp, your bliss, 470 
 
 Made lovesick of his misery ; still he feels 
 
 The haughty solace of disdain ; still soothes 
 
 The madness of his grief by pitying you. 
 
 Nor yet, oh impotent of cruelty, 
 
 I am not utterly from this dark world 475 
 
 Estranged and outcast : gone, for ever gone, 
 
 Those exquisite mild luxuries of the heart,
 
 128 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK V. 
 
 That summer sunshine of the soul, sweet love, 
 
 That makes life what we deem of heaven ; remain 
 
 Hardier delights, severer joys. Oh reft 480 
 
 Of all thy brave, thy princely, of my faith, 
 
 Thou hast a deeper need be thou my bride, 
 
 Oh Britain, to thy wreck I proudly wed 
 
 The sadness of my widowhood, and bid 
 
 Pale bridemaids to our nuptials, holy Wrath 485 
 
 And iron-handed Vengeance ; and invoke 
 
 Death, that dark minstrel from fast-slaughtered mounds 
 
 Of Saxons, to awake our bridal hymn, 
 
 And spread for torchlight on our spousal eve 
 
 Wild gratulation of their funeral fires. 490 
 
 " And thou, oh stainless denizen of heaven, 
 Soft soul of my lost Emeric, endure 
 ^Though jealous my new bride from thee bereave 
 The rude tumultuons day, the midnight hour 
 I consecrate to thee ; then slide thou down, 495 
 
 Like moonlight on the darkness' raven wing, 
 And oh, if human passion, human love, 
 Stain the pure essence of immortal spirits, 
 Leave heaven in heaven, earth's frailer loveliness
 
 BOOK V.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 129 
 
 Resuming, chaste mild fondness, timorous warmth 500 
 
 Visit my desert fancy. Him by day, 
 
 Savage and merciless, with soul of steel, 
 
 And pale brow cloudy with a nation's cares, 
 
 Shall midnight find an amorous dreamer fond, 
 
 A dotard on a dim unreal shade." 505 
 
 Now o'er what was the rosy, playful, warm, 
 Now pale, now changeless, icy cold, the maid 
 Whose blue eyes danc'd with rapture, whose light step 
 Was consort to the air-roving winds (half seal'd 
 That lustreless wan azure ; stiff and damp 510 
 
 Those sprightly limbs) oft pausing as yet loath 
 To part from what he shudder'd to behold, 
 Heaps Samor the light earth ; ere o'er her face 
 He plac'd the primrose knot, once stoop'd his lips, 
 And started to find cold what he knew dead. 515 
 
 Now closed that mournful office, nearing fast 
 Is heard a dash of oars, and at his side 
 Forth leap'd an armed Saxon, with rais'd arm 
 Menacing ; but Samor down with scornful strength 
 The grim intruder dash'd to earth, and fix'd 520 
 
 His stern heel on his neck, and stood in act 
 
 K
 
 130 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK V. 
 
 The life to trample from the gasping trunk. 
 
 Sudden withdrawn his angry tread, he spake, 
 
 " Thee first of Saxon race, thee last, this arm 
 
 Spares, not of milky mercy, but as meet 525 
 
 To minister my purpose ; go unscath'd, 
 
 And tell to Hengist, tell thy Lord, who robs 
 
 The Lion's den, should chain the Lion first ; 
 
 Add, Samor is abroad," Then to the boat 
 
 He sprang, and pass'd to Severn's western shore. 530 
 
 *&f 
 
 ImA 
 
 "I (itro'i
 
 BOOK VI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 131 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
 A VOICE, o'er all the waste and prostrate isle 
 Wandereth a valiant voice ; the hill, the dale, 
 Forest and mountain, heath and ocean shore 
 Treasure its mystic murmurs ; all the winds 
 From the bleak moody East to that soft gale 5 
 
 That wantons with the summer's dewy flowers, 
 Familiar its dark burthen waft abroad. 
 
 Is it an utterance of the earth ? a sound 
 From the green barrows of the ancient dead ? 
 Doth fierce Cassivelan's cold sleep disdain 10 
 
 That less than Caesar with a master's step 
 Walk his free Britain ? Doth thy restless grave, 
 Bonduca, to the slavish air burst ope, 
 And thou, amid the laggard cars of war,
 
 132 SAMOR, LORD OF [fiOOK VI. 
 
 Cry, " Harness and away !" But far and wide, 15 
 
 As when from marish dank, or quaking fen, 
 Venomous and vast the clouds uproll, and spread 
 Pale pestilenee along the withering land, 
 So sweeps o'er all the isle his wasting bands 
 The conqueror Saxon ; he, far worse, far worse 20 
 
 His drear contagion, that the body's strength 
 Wastes, and with feverish pallor overlays 
 The heaven-shap'd features ; this the nobler soul, 
 With slavery's base sickliness attaints, 
 Making man's life more hideous than his death. 25 
 
 Thames rolls a Saxon tide ; in vain delays 
 Deep Severn on Plinlimmon's summits rude 
 His narrow freedom, tame anon endures 
 Saxon dominion : high with arms uplift, 
 As he had march'd o'er necks of prostrate kings, 30 
 Caswallon on the southern shore of Trent 
 Drives onward, he nought deeming won, while aught 
 Remains unwon. But still that wonderous voice, 
 Like vulture in the grisly wake of war, 
 Hovers, and flings on air his descant strange, :; 35 
 
 * Vengeance and Vigilance !" in van, in rear,
 
 BOOK VI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 133 
 
 Around, above, beneath, the clouds of Heaven 
 
 Enshroud it in their misty folds ; earth speaks 
 
 From all her caves, " Vengeance and Vigilance I' 1 
 
 Aye, at that sound the Briton crest assumes 40 
 
 High courage and heroic shame, he wears 
 
 With such bold mien his slavery, he might seem 
 
 Lord over fortune, and with calm disdain 
 
 He locks his fetters, like proud battle arms. 
 
 Without a foe o^r this wide land of foes 45 
 
 Marcheth the Saxon. City, tower, and fort 
 
 On their harsh hinge roll back their summoned gates, 
 
 With such a sullen and reluctant jar, 
 
 Submission sterns defiance. Though to fear 
 
 Impassive, scarce the Victor dare unfurl 50 
 
 Banner of conquest on the jealous air. 
 
 Less perilous were frantic strife, were wrath 
 
 Desperate of life, and blind to death, wild hate 
 
 Of being struck all heedless so it strike, 
 
 Than this high haughty misery, that fierce woe 55 
 
 Baffles by brave endurance, and confronts 
 
 With cold and stern contentedness all ill, 
 
 Outrage, and insult, ravage, rape, and wreck,
 
 184 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VI. 
 
 That dog barbaric Conquerors march of war. 
 'Tis like the sultry silence, ushering forth 60 
 
 The thunder's cloudy chariot, rather like 
 The murky smothering of volcanic fire 
 Within its rocky prison ; forth anon 
 Bursts the red captive, to the lurid heaven 
 Upleaps, and with its surging dome of smoke 65 
 
 Shuts from the pale world the meridian Sun. 
 But in their camp, in fierce divan and full, 
 The lordly robbers sate, assemblage proud, 
 Ethling, and Erie, and King, for council met, 
 For council and carousal;* so they deem'd 70 
 
 The drunken sense would hardier daring grasp, 
 And the bold revel of the blood, the soul 
 Flush to more noble valiance, strong desire 
 In fierce embrace to meet that mistress dark, 
 Danger : Hoarse din of merriment, the air 75 
 
 Smote with meet music blending loud and deep. 
 But Horsa lighting with disdainful mirth 
 
 * De pace denique ac bello plerumque. in conviviis consultant ; tanquam 
 nullo magis tempore aut ad simplices cogitationes pateat animus, aut ad 
 magnas incalescat. Tac. Germ.
 
 BOOK VI."] THE BRIGHT CITY. 135 
 
 His broad bright eye, 'gan scoff with rugged jest. 
 
 " 111 have we done, though for one sumptuous feast 
 
 Be our's this spacious isle, ill have we done ; 80 
 
 That in our prodigal and heedless waste 
 
 Of those tall high-born Britons spared we none 
 
 To tilt at with our thirsty spears, and scare 
 
 The frost and slumber from our sluggish hearts. 
 
 Now hang we forth our banners to disport 85 
 
 In the smooth breeze, our armours steeled clasps 
 
 To summons soft of Lady's tender hands 
 
 Surrender ; or go joust the hardy oaks 
 
 For pastime. Oh, along these velvet plains 
 
 To prance 'mid timorous hinds with their pale souls 90 
 
 In their white faces, heralds crouching low, 
 
 With looks beseeching, voices meek, clasped hands ; 
 
 'Tis tame and wearisome as at dead noon 
 
 To rock upon the flat and hazy sea." 
 
 " This too," cried hoary Cerdic ; " this bright sword 
 Loathes its long Christian fast, yet not despairs 96 
 
 Erewhile to glut with banquet rich and full 
 Its ravening blade ; for trust me, fiery Erie, 
 Many a fierce steed hath brook'd the brazen curb,
 
 136 SAM OR, LORD OF [BOOK VI. 
 
 That chafd anon, from his high seat to dust 100 
 
 Hath shaken his pale rider ; Erie, I read 
 
 In yon bow'd foreheads sterner characters 
 
 Than abject, tame allegiance, homage base : 
 
 There the firm purpose, meditation deep, 
 
 And stud y of revenge ; the wand of peace 105 
 
 Is in their hands, but in their souls they grasp 
 
 The battle-axe and spear." A bitter laugh. 
 
 Came with the fierce reply, " Shall Horsa watch 
 
 The shiftings in the visage of a slave ; 
 
 I issue forth my mandate, and 'tis done, 
 
 Whether with cloudy or with sunshine brow 
 
 I know not and regard not." Cerdic's voice, 
 
 Ruffled to somewhat of prophetic tone : 
 
 " Not, Horsa, to the stones, the deaf dull stones, 
 Nor the cold current of the senseless winds 1 1 5 
 
 Speaks that wild orator, the Man, whose paths 
 Are hidden as the ways of fate, unknown 
 Who knoweth all, who seeth all unseen, 
 Nor like the lightning shaft his presence dread 
 Divulgeth, but to shatter, but to slay. 120 
 
 Whose breath beneath the soft dove's snowy down
 
 BOOK VI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 137 
 
 A soul might breathe of valour to outsoar 
 
 The falcon's pitch of pride : I tell thee, Erie, 
 
 This soft effeminate Britain, to our sway 
 
 Gentle and pliant as a willow wand, 1 25 
 
 Will that dark Man uprear a ponderous Mace 
 
 To crush our infant empire." " Man ! hath man 
 
 Curdled the blood of Offa, made his soul 
 
 Patient of that pale trembling motion, fear, 
 
 And Offa live, live shameless of his shame, 1 30 
 
 Amid his peers with unblench'd front to say, 
 
 These knees have quaiPd, these stubborn joints have felt 
 
 The aspin's coward fluttering, and the Sun 
 
 That saw his flight, hath seen not his revenge. 
 
 Cerdic, the name of perishable man 135 
 
 Thou dost belie, so titling beings dim ; 
 
 Viewless and formless denizens of air, 
 
 That sport and dally with the human shape, 
 
 Making of mortals to their mortal peers, 
 
 Dark things of doubt and danger. We had sworn, 1 40 
 
 Gurmund and Sigvart, JElla, Attilar, 
 
 And other six, than whom no German arm 
 
 Sways heavier the long lance, nor German foot
 
 138 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VI- 
 
 Treads firmer battle's crimson paths, I speak, 
 Fiery-souPd Horsa, to thy front ; to thine, 145 
 
 High-sceptred Hengist ! mortal steel we swore 
 Should choke that full-voic'd Wanderer's clamorous 
 
 breath. 
 
 Sage oath ! as to adjure our souls, and vow 
 Th' irregular mad ocean our word " Peace" 
 Should hearken, and sleek smooth his cresting waves. 
 But gaily went we forth with brand and bow, 151 
 
 Like hunters to the chase, scoffing our prey. 
 * Now if he meet us in his mortal shape, 
 Let him melt back into his native air ; 
 Then shall he 'scape' high o'er our path a rock 155 
 Hung beetling, from its summit came a voice, 
 ' Behold him !' with the voice a fragment vast, 
 An earthquake had been weak to hurl it forth ; 
 Two stately necks to the low earth sank down, 
 And o'er them that huge mass lay stern and still, 1 60 
 Like an old giant's monument. But we 
 Leap'd onward, JElla met the dark unknown, 
 Heavy with ruin hung his arm in air, 
 But in his valiant heart a javelin stood, 

 
 BOOK VI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 139 
 
 Drinking the crimson life. Still on we swept, 165 
 
 Many a wild league o'er moor and marish swamp, 
 
 Forest and wold, and still our pathway lay 
 
 O'er the warm corpses of our foremost peers. 
 
 Sole, sad survivors of our host, we came, 
 
 Sigvart and Offa ; on the giddy brink 1 70 
 
 Of precipice abrupt the Conqueror paus'd, 
 
 As weary with his prowess, our defeat, 
 
 To mock us with the calmness of his rest. 
 
 " Now come what will," cried Sigvart, " come what may, 
 
 Or thou, or I, or both. 11 Then on he sprung, 175 
 
 Yet not the more relax'd that shape of gloom 
 
 Its stern contemptuous quiet, wav'd his arm 
 
 With motion less of strife than proud command, 
 
 And then of Sigvarfs fall the deep abyss 
 
 Sent up a hollow sound. I fled, proud Peers, 180 
 
 I say again, I fled, and, or disdained 
 
 That being dark a lone and single foe : 
 
 Or by the shielding of our mightier Gods 
 
 I 'scap'd " I too (cried Hermingard), I too 
 
 Of that mysterious Wanderer have known ] 85 
 
 The might and savage mercy. I had stray'd
 
 140 SAMORj LORD OF 
 
 Into a fabric fair, of Christian Gods, 
 
 A fane it seemed, rich-crested pillars rang'd 
 
 On either side, above the hollow roof 
 
 Aye lessening, seem'd to melt into the air 1 90 
 
 On which it floated. High uprear'd there shone 
 
 An altar, bright with chalice, lamp, and cup 
 
 All of the flaming gold. I rush'd to seize, 
 
 An arm was on my neck, that dashed me down 
 
 Like a soft infant ; then a vengeful voice 195 
 
 Struck on^my dizzy hearing. " But thy blood 
 
 Would dye this holy pavement with foul stain, 
 
 Heathen, thy soul and mortal shape were rent 
 
 Asunder." As I fled, I turn'd rechn'd 
 
 Low by that altar on his knees, all quench'd 200 
 
 Fierce wrath and fiery menace, drooping all 
 
 Stern pride of mastery, triumph, and high scorn 
 
 That wild Unknown, calm, not with weariness ; 
 
 Gentle, but not with sleep. Majestic light 
 
 i 
 
 Beam'd on the quiet of his heavenward brow, 205 
 
 Yet human tears stood glittering in his eyes. 
 My thoughts were vengeance, but the cold clear air 
 Went creeping up my veins, an awful frost
 
 BOOK VI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 141 
 
 Drank up the languid current of my blood, 
 
 And unrevenged I fled that tranquil Man."" 210 
 
 Upsprang young Abisa, and beauteous scorn 
 Curl'd his smooth cheek " in tumult or in calm ; 
 But have he blood within his beating veins, 
 Mine is a steel of such a searching thirst, 
 'Twill drain its crimson source." " Thou ! wanton Boy," 
 The pale laugh wrinkling on his swelling lip. 216 
 
 " Thou ! thou ! (cried Offa) with thy mother's milk 
 Yet white within thy beardless cheek.' 1 " Proud Jute, 
 The stem of Woden is a mounting tree, 
 Its saplings soar to meet the golden Sun, 220 
 
 While tamer shrubs creep with base trail on earth. 
 Hengist, my King, my Brother ! by our Sire 
 I swear, that ne'er again metheglin cup 
 Shall sparkle on these lips, till I have met 
 This mystic deity of Offa's fear." 225 
 
 Then on the Monarch turn'd all eyes ; he sate 
 In darkness, or by chance, or art the lamps 
 Stream'd bright and yellow down the festal board, 
 But fell no ray within hie folded robe. 
 Yet wore not Hengist on his brow his soul, 230
 
 142 SAMOB, LORD OF [BOOK VI. 
 
 High spake he from its cold and stately calm, 
 
 Law to the lawless, to the dauntless dread; 
 
 But his were rarer qualities of power, 
 
 Dominion o'er himself; deep, deep within 
 
 Dwelt all the stormy passions ; by no eye 235 
 
 Pierc'd in its dark abiding lay the spirit 
 
 With all its shames and grandeurs, loves and hates, 
 
 And all its greedy family of lusts. 
 
 Though now there seem'd beneath his royal crown 
 
 A faint uncertain paleness, as of fear 240 
 
 Not wholly quell'd, and on his cheek and lip 
 
 Hovered a quivering motion, ere he spake, 
 
 But cool his speech. " Presumptuous youth, thy oath 
 
 Though wild, is holy Woden guard thee well. 
 
 Yet art thou sole in madness ? time hath been 245 
 
 When the brave phrenzy of rash daring spread 
 
 A broad contagious flame through all our camp, 
 
 Till not a sword but sham'd its sluggish sheath. 
 
 Needed not Saxon king, as now, to gild 
 
 Fan: danger ere it pleased, as now proclaim 250 
 
 Rich guerdon to the warrior, that aspires 
 
 To rival Woden's blood, and be the peer
 
 BOOK VI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 143 
 
 Of Abisa in peril and renown. 
 
 More lofty duties fetter thee and me, 
 
 High Horsa" (for the fiery warrior's hand 25 
 
 Had started to his sword's familiar hilt) 
 
 Rob we not of their fame the valiant Erles." 
 
 No seat was vacant, not a voice came forth, 
 As he were single in his shame sate each, 
 Nor dared on his compeers to look, in fear 260 
 
 Soul might be there more dauntless than his own. 
 Blank silence all ! but loud that silence spake 
 Not vainly, Samor, worn thy title proud, 
 Avenger ! by thy country's Conquerors thou 
 Magnificently deified ; so soar'd 265 
 
 Thy mortal virtue o'er their tamer Gods. 
 Not that the vassal elements thy sway 
 Hearkened, nor beings of the middle air 
 Stoop'd on their glistening wings to work thy will ; 
 Avenger! but for thee, the Almighty wrought 270 
 Most marv'lous, most miraclous ; in thy soul, 
 That nobler field, high wonders manifold 
 Laboured to light aud lustre : for what thought 
 Unwing'd by inbreathed Godhead e'er might dream
 
 144 SAMOR, LORD OF [fiOOK VI. 
 
 Of glory to be born from this broad night 275 
 
 Of desolation and deep darkness, strive 
 
 For faint, impalpable, and airy good, 
 
 Through the thick clouds of evil and of woe, 
 
 Strong, stately, constant, like an eagle set 
 
 To drink the last light of the parting sun ? 280 
 
 What heart of earthly clay, that ne'er imbib'd 
 
 Holier and purer ether, might endure 
 
 Danger, dismay, despair, all ills, that wring 
 
 Within, and rack and rankle ? not alone 
 
 Fierce wrong and insult of triumphant foe, 285 
 
 But worse, far worse, from those our friends misdeem'd, 
 
 Pity of calm, cold cowards, or rude scorn 
 
 From sleek and smiling slaves ; or scoff and mock 
 
 At our hard sufferings from those ingrate hearts 
 
 For whom we suffer ; these the woes that wait 290 
 
 That nobly desperate, who with stedfast hand 
 
 The statue of his country's fame, down dash'd 
 
 And trampled by barbarian feet, ingrain'd 
 
 ?W 
 With the coarse dust and black, before the world 
 
 Would rear again to sovereignty and state. 295 
 
 But thou didst strive and suffer, thou didst hope,
 
 BOOK VI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. J45 
 
 And therefore in thy dark and silent deeds 
 
 Beam'd manifest God's Spirit ; till in thee 
 
 Even the base body that e'er clogs and clouds 
 
 The nobler energies, its state infirm 300 
 
 Shook off, and by communion close assumed 
 
 The soul's immortal essence, or the soul 
 
 A climate and peculiar atmosphere' 
 
 Spread round its weaker instrument of power. 
 
 Hence human accidents of heat and cold, 305 
 
 Famine and thirst, wasting and weariness, 
 
 Fell light and thin upon thy tranquil frame, 
 
 Like flakes of snow upon th"* unbroken lake ; 
 
 Thus didst thou pass most fearless, and most feared ; 310 
 
 By virtue, and thy foeman's dread, array'd 
 
 In attributes of strong divinity ; 
 
 Danger became thy safety, thy renown 
 
 Grew from thy utter desperate wretchedness. 
 
 But now the more enjoy 'd that Saxon youth 
 His solitude of glory ; forth he springs 315 
 
 Hasty, lest valorous repentance fire 
 Some rival Erie of half his peril yet 
 To wrong him. In his tent, soft languid sounds 
 
 L
 
 146 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VI. 
 
 Expiring on her falling lute, arose 
 
 To welcome home her Lord his beauteous slave ; 320 
 
 His slave ! is that her slavery, round his neck 
 
 The snowy girdle of her arms to wreathe ? 
 
 To catch a master's mandate doth she raise 
 
 The bashful fringes of her eyes, and meet 
 
 Those glances of no lordly scorn, that soothe 325 
 
 Her gentle wayward angriness of love, 
 
 Soothe, dare not chide, that coldness faint and brief 
 
 That would be wooed, but sweeter to be won ? 
 
 Nor dares not she withhold that arm upraised 
 
 From their high stand the furniture of fight, 330 
 
 Glaive, corslet, morion to displace ; her touch 
 
 Now clings with soft resistance, playful now 
 
 Thwarts his stern purpose. " Oh, remove not them ; 
 
 In hours of absence, thou too dearly lov'st, 
 
 They are my comfort, my companions they, 335 
 
 My all but thou : the dusky shades of eve 
 
 Brown o'er their glittering steal, and there array, 
 
 A bright and armed man, th* officious air 
 
 Gives motion, and with all thy graceful pride 
 
 Shakes the light plumage, thou art there, in spite 340
 
 BOOK VI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 147 
 
 Of thy own tardy lingering, thou art there. 
 
 Oh, I have woke at midnight, when my soul 
 
 With thee hath been a wanderer through sad fields, 
 
 'Mid death and battle, though my lightest touch 
 
 Had prov'd thee by my side, yet my faint hand 345 
 
 Lack'd courage with that dangerous proof to front 
 
 My unsubstantial fears. Oh then, if light 
 
 Of star or moon on their blue surface gleam'd, 
 
 Or wind awoke them into sound, again 
 
 Calm on my pillow droop'd my cheek to rest, 350 
 
 Secure to find thee sweetly slumbering there. 
 
 Yet, yet unwon, oh, lighten that cold brow, 
 
 And I will sing the soft and sleepy song 
 
 That makes a woman of thy angry eyes, 
 
 Lulls the rude tumult in thy troubled breast, 355 
 
 Leaving nought there but melody and me." 
 
 Then started she to feel how hard and cold 
 Between her and her bosom's resting place 
 The corslet lay, by stealth her fond embrace 
 Supplanting ; gently his one arm declin'd 360 
 
 Over her neck, in careless fondness hangs, 
 Busy the other, its rude office frames,
 
 148 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VI. 
 
 Linking the breastplate's clasps ; now holds he back 
 
 From her approaching lips his cheek, to fix 
 
 The weighty morion ; but her garrulous grief 365 
 
 Paus'd not " At midnight ! now ! oh brave niisdeem'd, 
 
 Misdeem'd, who only th 1 open day would front 
 
 With his bold armour ; who but I would love, 
 
 I, weak and brainsick, one whose valour shrouds 
 
 Its prowess in the cloudy gloom of night ? 370 
 
 Oh not, oh not to war, thou goest to win 
 
 Some lovelier or some newer bride. Go, go, 
 
 Though faithless, barbarous, cruel, cold to me, 
 
 Yet make not her too wretched, make not her 
 
 Heartsick with sad expectance." But her arms 375 
 
 Belied her desperate language, closer clasp'd 
 
 With more than maiden strength. " Oh, stony heart, 
 
 And I for thee forsook my infant home, 
 
 Where all my steps were music, all my smiles 
 
 Glad sunshine to my parents wintry blood, 380 
 
 That glanc'd like summer waters at my sight ; 
 
 For thee did violence to my virgin fame : 
 
 By war's rude force might I have seemVL enthralTd, 
 
 A luckless, pitied damsel ; my fond heart
 
 BOOK VI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 149 
 
 111 brooked the coarse reproach of ravisher 385 
 
 Should couple with a name so dear as thine. 
 
 At night-fall fled I to thee ; even as now 
 
 The stars shone beauteous, and a kindly gloom 
 
 Curtain'd our meeting even as now; no change \ 
 
 From soft and fond and gentle, but in thee." 390 
 
 " Peace, trembler, peace ! to-morrow's dawn shall hail, 
 
 Borne in the shield of honour, on the necks 
 
 Of his tall peers, thy Abisa ; no voice 
 
 Silent, no quiet in the troubled air, 
 
 Restless with his hymnM triumph, OfiVs heart 395 
 
 Sick with wan envy. Then Myfanwy, then 
 
 My glory shall make rapture of thy tears, 
 
 And thou shalt bless the grief that wrings thee now. 1 ' 
 
 " Oh, glory hath a stern and savage mate, 
 
 Danger, her lawless paramour, enfolds 400 
 
 Her beauties in his churlish arms. Oh pause, 
 
 And yet farewell, 'tis exquisite to part, 
 
 For oh, thou weep'st at parting, 'twas past hope 
 
 To see a tear on that stern face for me." 
 
 She hath her last cold kiss through the barr'd helm 
 Won hardly ; she is calm as though it dwelt 406
 
 150 SAMOR, LORD OF [fiOOK VI. 
 
 Yet on her lips, she hears his parting steps, 
 
 Yet lingers on her cheek that liquid glow, 
 
 That brilliant harmony of smile and tear 
 
 That at the presence of the one belov'd 410 
 
 Flits o'er the settled purple of the cheek. 
 
 Oh, if soft woman hath her wilder fears, 
 
 She hath her wilder hopes, for man's stern grasp 
 
 Too thin, too airy ! " Never yet found false, 
 
 Thou wilt return ;" (so wanton'd her gay dreams) 415 
 
 " So young, so lovely, fate would shame to snatch 
 
 So early the choice glories of the earth." 
 
 Then sate she down triumphal coronets 
 
 To weave, but not in modest quiet grief, 
 
 And gentle resignation pale and mild, 420 
 
 But with a dancing heart and bright blithe eye ; 
 
 And when her eyelids droop'd, soft o'er her came 
 
 A sweet inconstant slumber, such as sleep 
 
 Love-dreaming maidens ere their bridal morn. 
 
 But through the clear calm night, the azure plain 
 
 Of heaven, with all its glittering paths of light 426 
 
 Distinct and dazzling, mov'd that fair-haired youth ; 
 
 So, if old fable may be won to smile
 
 BOOK VI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 15l 
 
 Its grace upon our darker tale, the boy, 
 
 Smooth-cheeked Endymion, his enamour'd Moon 430 
 
 Woo'd with no lawless witchcraft from her sphere : 
 
 Nor she delay'd, her silver-sandal'd feet 
 
 Gliding and glancing o'er the dews she came, 
 
 And curtain'd in a cloud of snowy light, 
 
 Mock'd mortal harps that hymn'd her cold and chaste. 
 
 No amorous fancies o'er thy downless cheek 436 
 
 Flushing their rosy heat, no love-lipp'd tones 
 
 In sweet disturbance stealing on the air, 
 
 Young Abisa ! with more imperious charm 
 
 Thou summon'st from wild wood or cavern'd heath, 440 
 
 Nor vainly, their fierce habitant. Behold, 
 
 A shadow by thine own, its stately length 
 
 On the white dews advancing ; at thy side 
 
 The Avenger, as upsprung from nether earth. 
 
 Then fatal gladness leap'd in that young heart, 445 
 He flung his vizor'd helmet proudly up, 
 And dash'd defiance 'gainst fierce OflPa's dread. 
 
 But Samor, for when his pure heart was wean'd 
 From all the faint and feeble of his kind, 
 The mercies clung within, and gentleness 450
 
 152 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VI. 
 
 So mingled with his nature, that it slaked 
 
 Even the blood-thirsting phrenzy of revenge ; 
 
 Samor that beauteous youth surveyed, the stars 
 
 Glimmered a blue and hazy light, that shewed 
 
 His soft locks spreading their bright clusters wide, 455 
 
 His vermeil cheek most lovely in its wrath, 
 
 And brow that seem'd to wonder and delight 
 
 At its own dauntlessness. So tall, so fair ; 
 
 Oft had he irnag'd his own perish'd boy 
 
 In flower of youth, that flower which never bloomed. 4 GO 
 
 Tender and mild his voice, as though he spake 
 
 \ 
 Even to that dead belov'd " Oh, brave and fair, 
 
 Why thus abroad amid the silent night, 
 
 With menace and fierce gesture wild and strange ?" 
 
 " Thou heardst my call, thou seest my arms, my aim 465 
 
 Idly thou question'st." " "Tis not, gentle youth, 
 
 Thy golden luxury of hair, nor cheek 
 
 Warm in the rosy wantonness of youth, 
 
 But thy brave bearing, gallant mien and proud, 
 
 That winds long-banish'd mercy round my sword, 470 
 
 To save from it one Saxon life."" " Soft praise, 
 
 And sweet from lady's lips, but not to hear
 
 BOOK VI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 153 
 
 Smooth Flattery's descant come I, but to win 
 
 What, being won, is in its lofty self 
 
 Imperishable beauty, garlands youth 475 
 
 With honour passing the white hairs of age, 
 
 Glory, the life of life." " And is there none 
 
 Whose pillow dreams of thee are haunting now ? 
 
 No mother, whose last waking thought was hope, 
 
 At morn, to meet thee in thy wonted glow 480 
 
 Of loveliness and life ? No gentle maid 
 
 Whom the bare thought of paleness in thy cheek, 
 
 Of death's wan chill upon thy brow, would waste 
 
 And wither like the cankered flower of spring ? 
 
 Return to her, oh fair, high-minded youth ! 485 
 
 Ere yet too late, return." But more delay 
 
 The hot youth brooked not ; down he clasped his helm, 
 
 And leaping to the frantic onset, cried, 
 
 " Now, Offa, for thy shame, and for thy meed, 
 
 My brother Hengist !" As when lightning flame 490 
 
 Dashes at midnight o'er his slumbering lids, 
 
 Up starts the wild steed, all his tawny mane 
 
 Bristling and blazing, he devours the earth 
 
 In fury ; even so sudden those rash words
 
 154 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VI. 
 
 Set flames upon the Avenger's brow, set wrath 495 
 On the impetuous motion of his spear. 
 
 Oh, holy Night ! in thy injurious gloom 
 How blank the proud distinctions of man's fame 1 
 Languor and loftiness, and shame and pride 
 In one dead darkness, deep forgetfulness, 500 
 
 Lie, as within a grave, till Virtue's self, 
 But for her haughty consciousness within, 
 Might weary of her mute and viewless deeds. 
 Secret and still ! that I might violate 
 Thy mysteries, and redeem from envious gloom 505 
 That Saxon boy's dead honours, dearly won, 
 Most dearly, yet most nobly. Morn shall tell 
 The issue of that conflict, but no morn 
 Will dawn upon his silent, perish'd praise. 
 
 Two hours are past, alone the Avenger moves 5 10 
 Under the stars of heaven ; 'tis midnight deep, 
 Now comes his hour of softness ; love-sick boy, 
 Tuning soft phrenzies to his wanton lute, 
 Is not more wild, fantastical, or fond, 
 Than Britain's stately hope, high Hengist's dread. 515 
 For ever at this hour, of parted joy
 
 BOOK VI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 155 
 
 Dim gleams revisit his forsaken soul, 
 
 Like once-krvM music o'er a maniac's ear, 
 
 Faintly and feebly sweet, the dead put on 
 
 Their earthly lustre, Emeric comes, as fair 520 
 
 As from the bridal altar, but less coy, 
 
 In fervent full abandonment of love. 
 
 The breezes are melodious with her voice, 
 
 The dews are printed by her slender feet, 
 
 She flows into his arms, her fond embrace 525 
 
 Is warm upon his soul. Thus aye she comes, 
 
 Or when 'tis wintry in the starless skies, 
 
 Or when the moonlight bathes the earth, to her 
 
 Heaven opes its crystal portals, beauteous light 
 
 Ushers her presence, sleep can ne'er estrange 530 
 
 That luxury from his heart ; when consciousness 
 
 Of all things earthly slumbereth and is dead, 
 
 She haunts within, her sweet intrusion clings 
 
 To the lull'd spirit, senseless but to her, 
 
 All, all the living of the man is her's. 535 
 
 Oh, in their dreamings, their communions wild 
 With airy, immaterial visitants, 
 Most differ Guilt and Virtue ; there are shapes
 
 156 SAMOR, LORD OF BOOK VI. 
 
 Hideous and hateful, snaky Gorgon smiles, 
 
 And all the fabled populace of hell, 540 
 
 Brooding disquiet o'er the thorny couch ; 
 
 But Virtue's visions are almost as fair 
 
 As angels blest realities ; to thee 
 
 Lovely thy nightly visitant, sad Chief ! 
 
 As to man, sinless yet in Eden bowers, 545 
 
 On beds of odorous amaranth asleep, 
 
 Yet uncreated, came his virgin bride, 
 
 Delicate phantom ; then his fresh pure soul 
 
 Amorous enchantment first entranced, first rose 
 
 That our best feeling, of lost Paradise 450 
 
 That sole surviving pleasure, holy love. 
 
 Beauteous thy blue uprising, mist-rob'd Morn ! 
 All thy bright glittering of fantastic dews 
 With their thin tissue silkening the green meads, 
 And all thy music of blithe leaves that dance 555 
 
 In the caressing breeze, and matins gay 
 From all the living woodland, Sleep is pleasM 
 To be so sweetly banish'd her soft reign. 
 But dreary are thy sounds, and sad thy light 
 On the lewd wassail, riots orgies rude, 560 
 
 Polluting day with sights that shame dark night.
 
 BOOK VI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 157 
 
 Now from the state pavilion forth are pour'd 
 
 The synod of high banqueters, their eyes 
 
 Hot with loose raptures and distemper'd joy, 
 
 Voluptuously turbulent their souls. 565 
 
 Right in their way stood fix'd a lofty spear, 
 
 Not with gay garland crowned, or streaming silk, 
 
 But, with that beauteous head that yesternight 
 
 Confronted them with graceful pride ; the cheek 
 
 Where wantonly youth's rosy banner gleam'd, 570 
 
 Pale, dewy, stiffening, lifeless, lustreless ; 
 
 Part matted with red damp the golden locks 
 
 Clung round the spear, part curling on the air, 
 
 Sad semblance shew'd of life, in all the rest 
 
 Making the stillness and fix'd cold more dread. 575 
 
 No cheek was there so bright, voluptuous heart 
 So hot, but, like bleak snow, fear fell on it 
 With a cold thrill and searching ; if their sight 
 Had yet perception, humbler chiefs might draw 
 From high example comfort for their dread ; 58O 
 
 Brow might they see with kingly crown beset, 
 White, sad, and shrunken as their own. Alone, 
 Fierce smil'd the pride of Offa ; he held up
 
 158 SAMOR, LORD OF 
 
 To those wan lips the sparkling shell of mead : 
 " Drink, thou hast kept thy oath, drink, soft-lipp'd boy !" 
 O'er all the camp spread loud and wide and far 586 
 The name of Abisa ; Myfanvvy heard 
 Where lay she dreaming half, and fabling half 
 Of garlands and of gay triumphal pomp. 
 How nimble are the feet that bear light hearts ! 590 
 She is gone forth, and all for joy forgot 
 The veil e'er wont to dim her dazzling cheek, 
 Forgot the braiding of her hair, the maid 
 So soft, so timorous, at the wanton breeze 
 She oft hath trembled, 'neath day's eye retired 595 
 
 Even from the fondness of her own loved youth. 
 Through files of warriors, who uncasque their brows 
 To fill their curious gaze, she hurries on, 
 She knows not what she sees, and only knows, 
 She sees not what she seeks, that cheek, that eye 600 
 Which fed on her with such excess of love 
 As if 'twere worse than blindness to lose sight 
 Of its sole idol ; only she is blithe, 
 She only smiling 'mid those many sad. 
 She meets even all she longs for ; up from earth 605
 
 BOOK VI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 159 
 
 (For now from that sad eminence of scorn 
 
 Had friendly hand removed it, now had cleansed 
 
 Its damp defilement) that dear face on her 
 
 Settled its fixed and inexpressive gaze. 
 
 Her mien was strangely rational, her look 6 JO 
 
 Like one that calmly ponder'd what it saw, 
 
 Her voice articulate and passionless. 
 
 "Who hath done this?" " The Avenger, the unknown," 
 
 Spake many voices. " Oh, my hands are weak ; 
 
 Ye see them soft and delicate and white, 615 
 
 But thou, and thou, and thou, art bold and strong, 
 
 And bear'st bright armour, ye will sure requite 
 
 The slaughter on the slaughterer's head." Ensued 
 
 Brief moments of a stagnant grief, life paus'd, 
 
 As 'twould prolong unconsciousness, delay 620 
 
 Yet, yet that state that wakes with waking sense. 
 
 Then kindled up her eye, but not with joy, 
 
 Then flush'd her cheek a light and sanguine red, 
 
 That its fair marble flitted o'er, but left 
 
 Nor tinge nor warmth ; she snatched up to her heart 
 
 That lifeless thing and fled ; as some fond bird 62G 
 
 With spread wings hovering o'er her nest, looks round
 
 160 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOR VI. 
 
 At some black shape of fear, then turns to see 
 
 If yet her callow brood are slumbering safe : 
 
 So wandering her dim eye on all around, 30 
 
 Anon with full intensity of love, 
 
 Settled on her cold care. She reach 'd the tent, 
 
 There miserly her treasure she o'erbroods ; 
 
 She lays it on her lap, and sings to it, 
 
 Now gazes as she thought even yet those eyes (J35 
 
 Might open, those wan lips, their wonted sounds 
 
 Murmur, now almost sees a forming smile : 
 
 Now gaily carols on her broken songs, 
 
 Ever his favourite, most familiar tones, 
 
 And now breaks off, as fearful to disturb 640 
 
 His quiet slumbers, only speaks in smiles, 
 
 1 .anguage by him e'er understood, and once, 
 
 Once her rash lips approached : so passed the hours 
 
 From earliest morning till the setting sun. 
 
 Then that wild spirit and playfulness of grief 645 
 
 Sadden'd to drear sobriety, gave place 
 
 Sweet-dreaming twilight to the bright clear day. 
 
 Then first she thought of beasts and fowls obscene 
 
 Battening on his fair limbs, no hand to heap
 
 BOOK VI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 161 
 
 The scanty pity of a little earth 650 
 
 Upon the brave, the princely, and the fair : 
 
 Envious of partner in her sacred toil, 
 
 Bearing her cold wan burthen in her arms, 
 
 Alone upon the pious quest she speeds. 
 
 She fears not, ah too wretched now to fear ! 655 
 
 Darkness is on her steps, but what to her 
 
 Though nature's rich varieties are blank ? 
 
 Her guide the unblinded sympathies within ; 
 
 The love that link'd her to his living soul 
 
 Will light her to him lifeless ; yon wan stars, 660 
 
 That struggle with the haze, are bright enough 
 
 To beam upon the dead. But now more fast 
 
 Their golden cressets multiply, more clear. 
 
 And lo fierce Offa in her path : his eye 
 
 Fix'd on her with a rude imperious lust, 
 
 As the pollution of his bad desires 
 
 Did honour to their victim. But the maid, 
 
 Unbelieving, unsuspecting aught impure, 
 
 With sweet beseeching, almost with caress, 
 
 Would win her onward passage ; when her soul 670 
 
 Was startled into fear, she would not think, 
 
 H
 
 162 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VI. 
 
 Such savage nature dwelt in human hearts. 
 
 She wept, she sued, she drew the veil away, 
 
 Upheld that lovely lifeless thing in vain : 
 
 The snowy dove is in the rude kite's grasp, 6*75 
 
 Pale, fluttering, fainting ; upon Heaven she call'd,jnol 
 
 Cruelly calm look'd on her the cool skies ; 
 
 She caird on Abisa, but only felt 
 
 More deeply that cold glassiness of face, 
 
 That dull, indifferent witness of her shame ; 680 
 
 But in the stress and hurry of despair 
 
 Strange energies were hers, with frantic voice Jifyiil 
 
 She calM on the Avenger Lo, he comes, 
 
 Terrible in the silence of his arms, 
 
 And earth is dank with Offa's lustful blood. (>S5 
 
 But her first motion was a frantic kiss 
 
 On Abisa's cold lips, as though for him 
 
 Proud of the untainted treasure of her love ; . 
 
 Then turn'd to her preserver, but with looks r: IK * 
 
 Of loathing more than thankfulness ; he stood 690 
 
 In gentle majesty serene, yet proud 
 
 Of that light victory, of prevented crime 
 
 Severely joyful ; bitter strife of heart
 
 BOOK VI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 163 
 
 Spake in her language " Had it been but death, 
 I yet had curs'd thee ! oh, look here, look here ! 695 
 (And she withdrew the clustering curls that veiFd 
 The rigid deathfulness of that fair brow) 
 Oh, one sole feeling to this dead heart seem'd 
 A duty and delight, the hate of thee. 
 Cruel, even that thou enviest me, even that." 700 
 " That, British maiden ! is a Saxon's face, 
 Yet mourns thy amorous heart in guilty tears ?" 
 " Is there not beauty in a Saxon's cheek, 
 Is there not music on a Saxon's tongue, 
 Is there not tenderness in Saxon hearts ? 705 
 
 Oh, he is kind and true, his love to me 
 Almost as deep and fond, as mine to him, 
 Wild that I am, he was, that fatal was 
 Makes agony my sacred thought of him. " 
 ' " Maiden, by Wye's transparent stream abode 710 
 
 An aged pair, and their declining day 
 One beauteous child enlightened, and dispensed 
 Soft moonlight o'er their darkening eve ; they thought 
 The only pang of death from her to part. 
 But heavy was their sinking to the grave, 715
 
 SAMUR, LORD OF [BOOK VI. 
 
 For that fair beam in unchaste darkness quenched 
 
 Its virgin lustre, and its light withdrew, 
 
 Of their old limbs the life: alone they dwelt, 
 
 In discontent and cold distate of all, 
 
 As her ingratitude had made them sick 7-0 
 
 Of the world's hollowness, and if she fail'd 
 
 All earthly things must needs be false and frail. 
 
 They ne'er reproach'd her, for so near the grave 
 
 They could not hate ; but for her sake they loathed 
 
 Each old familiar face, that once they lov'd. 725 
 
 Where she was wont to wander, wandered they ; 
 
 The garden flowers she tended, they bound up 
 
 With woeful care ; their chill and shaking hands 
 
 Made tremulous music with her lute, I shrunk 
 
 In hoary age to see such childish joys. 730 
 
 They felt one after pleasure, the same hour 
 
 They glided from their woes, their parting breath, 
 
 Blended in languid blessings on her head, 
 
 For her went suppliant to the throne of God, 
 
 Their lost Myfanwy." Trembling stood she there, 733 
 
 Like one that strives to weep, but the hard tears 
 
 Are frozen in their source. " Oh thou and I,
 
 fiOOK VI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 165 
 
 Sweet Abisa (to that cold head she spake), 
 
 We will go weep upon their graves^ and win 
 
 Their spirits to forgiveness ; when they hear 740 
 
 How fervent and how fatal were our loveSj 
 
 Heaven will lend airs to waft their mercy down." 
 
 " Fond Maid, beware ! repentance must be chaste 
 
 And spotless as the unsunned snow ; wilt thou 
 
 Yet wanton with the memory of thy sin, 7 '15 
 
 Bad thoughts at revel in thy heart, with vows 
 
 Lightly made up of guilty breath impure, 
 
 Pollute and sicken the clear air that dwells 
 
 About the holy dwellings of the dead ; 
 
 Waver from God to Pagan paramour 750 
 
 With wandering loose affections." " Hard and cold, 
 
 Be thou content to have robb'd this widow'd heart 
 
 Of that most lovely breathing thing earth bore, 
 
 But spare, oh spare, the sinless, senseless dead I 
 
 Cruel, by yon bright stars I oft have sworn 755 
 
 Ne'er to forego him ; shall I crown my tins 
 
 With perjury ? I will weep, and fast, and pray, 
 
 And wear the rough stones with my tender knees, 
 
 So thou wilt leave me my sad thoughts of him.
 
 J66 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VI. 
 
 Oh, God hath grace for all ; my earliest prayer 760 
 Shall be for mercy on his perish'd soul, 
 The next for those who dying prayM for me, 
 And for my sad and sinful self the last." 
 Most exquisite sorcery of womankind ! 
 Even to the fall'n some cherished loveliness 765 
 
 Yet clings, with innocent hypocrisy 
 Tricking their failures in such tender hues, 
 We blame with tears, enamour'd while we blame. 
 Even thus her fervent constancy of love 
 Brignten'd that guilty maiden. " God will weigh 770 
 With righteous hand thy sorrows and thy sins, 
 Damsel, I nor absolve thee, nor condemn. 
 Come thou with me, and we will reunite 
 That beauteous boy's remains ; oh thou, even thou, 
 Knew'st thou the studious cruelties, cold crimes 77$ 
 By these barbarians wrought on this sad land, 
 Wouldst pardon this dishonour to the corpse 
 Of that brave youth." She leaped up to his neck, 
 " And who art thou, that doest such savage deeds, 
 Yet forcest us to love thee ;" On they past, 
 They reach 'd the place of death, he dug away
 
 BOOK VI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 167 
 
 The earth that fencM from wandering kite and wolf 
 
 Young Abisa's fair limbs ; he sooth'd her woes 
 
 By soft participation, her consol'd 
 
 By suffering, and the Christian's voice rose up 785 
 
 In prayers for mercy on a Saxon's soul.
 
 SAAIOR, LORD OF [BOOK VII. 
 
 
 BOOK VII. 
 
 How measureless to erring human sight 
 
 Is glory ! Glorious thy majestic state, 
 
 Hengist ! with captive cities for thy thrones, 
 
 And captive nations thy pale satellites, 
 
 Britain, with all her beauty, power, and wealtk, 5 
 
 Thy palace of dominion. Glorious thou, 
 
 Caswallon, in Caer Ebranc's stately courts, 
 
 By the slow waters of the wandering Ouse, 
 
 Bright-sceptred Renegade ! Even in your crimes 
 
 Glitters a dazzling and meteorous pomp, 10 
 
 Though your wild voyage hath lain through waves of 
 
 blood, 
 
 Ye ride triumphant in your royal port. 
 But he, sad Pilgrim, outcast and forlorn,
 
 BOOK VII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 169 
 
 How doth the midnight of his honour shame 
 
 Your broad meridian, his wild freedom pass 15 
 
 Your plenitude of sway, his nakedness 
 
 Transcend your sweeping purples, rayed with gold ! 
 
 Nor wanteth to his state its gorgeous pride, 
 
 And high peculiar majesty ; the pomp 
 
 Of the conspiring elements sheds on him 20 
 
 Tumultuous grandeurs ; o'er his midnight couch, 
 
 Amid the scath'd oaks of the mountain moor, 
 
 On its broad wings of gloom the tempest stoops. 
 
 Around his head in crystal coronets 
 
 The lightning falls, as though thy fiery hand, 25 
 
 Almighty ! through the rolling clouds put forth, 
 
 Did honour to the Freeman. Mighty winds 
 
 And the careering thunders spread around 
 
 Turbulent music ; darkness rivals day, 
 
 And day with darkness vies in stateliest pride 30 
 
 The Avengers's lofty miseries to array. 
 
 When from the East forth leaps the warrior Sun 
 
 In panoply of golden light, dark cowers 
 
 His own proud eagle, marvelling what strong form, 
 
 Uprising to usurp his haughty right, 35
 
 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VII. 
 
 Drinks in the intense magnificence with brow 
 Undazzled and unshrinking ; nor to him 
 Fails homage from the living shapes of earth : 
 On him the savage, fierce and monstrous, fawn 
 Tame adoration ; from his rugged sleep 40 
 
 The wild boar, sleek his bristling wrath, aloof 
 Shrinks, the grim wolf no more his rest disturbs, 
 Than the calm motion of the moon she bays. 
 
 Now, by her native sylvan Wye, that Maid, 
 Left to cold penitence and prayer, again 45 
 
 Sets forth the high Avenger : now his path 
 Through Towey's vale winds velvet soft and green. 
 The year is in its waning autumn glow, 
 But the warm Sun, with all his summer love, 
 Hangs o'er this gentle valley, loath to part 50 
 
 From the blue stream that to his amorotis beams 
 Now her cool bosom spreads, now coyer slides 
 Under her alder shade, whose umbrage green, 
 Glancing and breaking the fantastic rays, 
 The deep dark mirror frets with mazy light. 55 
 
 A day that seems in its rich noon to blend 
 All seasons choice deliciousness, high hung
 
 BOOK VII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 171 
 
 On Dinevaur and Carreg Cennon rude, 
 
 And on bold Drusslyn gleam'd the woods their hues, 
 
 Changeful and brilliant, as their leaves had drank 60 
 
 The sun's empyreal fountains ; not more bright 
 
 The groves of those Atlantic Isles, where rove 
 
 (DreanVd elder Poesy such fancies sweet) 
 
 The spirits of the brave, stern Peleus' son, 
 
 And Diomede, through bowers that the blue air 65 
 
 Arch'd with immortal spring of fragrant gold. 
 
 The merry birds, as though they had o'erdream'd 
 
 The churlish winter, spring-tide virelays 
 
 Carolling, pruned their all-forgotten plumes. 
 
 Upon the sunny shallow lay the trout 70 
 
 Kindling the soft gems of its skin ; the snake 
 
 As fresh and wanton in its green attire 
 
 Wound its gay rings along the flowery sward. 
 
 That overpowering beauty in mild bonds 
 Of sweet amazement and infatuate bliss, 75 
 
 Took prisoner Samor's spirit. On a rock, 
 'Neath a white canopy of glistening birch, 
 He lay surrendered. The thin whispering leaves, 
 The welling waters flow, the lingering, long,
 
 172 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VII. 
 
 Love-dwelling descant of the joyous birds 80 
 
 Came mingling with the languor of his sense, 
 Most soothing each in turn, most slumb'ring soft. 
 
 'Tis no harsh breaking in that train of sound 
 Delicious, but a low and measured dash 
 That blends and deepens all the mingling tones ; 85 
 ""Pis nought to cloud or dim that slow intrudes 
 On the universal brilliance, crowning all 
 Moves the gay apparition, and fires up 
 The restless glittering to intenser blaze. 
 
 Slow up the tide the gaudy bark comes on, 90 
 
 Her oars scarce startling the unruffled air ; 
 The waters to her swan-like prow give place, 
 Along the oar-blades leap up to the sun 
 In lucid flakes, and dance, as 'twere their sport 
 To waft that beauteous freight. And exquisite 95 
 
 As that voluptuous Memphian on the stream 
 Of Cydnus, leading with bliss-breathing smiles 
 Her throngs of rash beholders, glided down 
 To welcome to his soft imprisonment 
 The Lord of half the world, so wond'rous fair 100 
 
 Under an awning cool of fluttering silk
 
 BOOK VII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 173 
 
 The Lady of that graceful galley sate. 
 
 But not in her instinct tlie melting form 
 
 With passion, the smooth limbs in dazzling glow 
 
 Translucent through the thin lascivious veil, 1 05 
 
 Skilful with careless blandishments to fire 
 
 The loose imaginations, she herein 
 
 Least like that Oriental harlot Queen. 
 
 Of all her shape, of all her soul was pride 
 
 The sustenance, the luxury, the life. 1 1 
 
 The innate scorn of her full eye repaid 
 
 With lofty thanklessness the homage fawn'd 
 
 By her fair handmaids, and her oarmen gay, 
 
 Who seem'd to wanton in their servile toil. 
 
 Around she gaz'd, as in her haughtiness 1 1 5 
 
 She thought that God had form'd this living pomp 
 
 Of woodland, stream, and rock, her height of soul 
 
 To pamper, that to welcome her the earth 
 
 Attired its breathing brightness, and the sun 
 
 Only on her look'd from his azure sphere. 1 20 
 
 Knows Samor that bright Lady ? Who knows not 
 Amid her twinkling retinue of stars 
 The queenly summer moon ? Ye too he knows, 
 The minion rowers of her royal state,
 
 174 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VII. 
 
 Entitled once by courteous falsehoods bland 125 
 
 Nobles of Britain, from the general wreck 
 
 Most despicably saved by Saxon scorn, 
 
 Meet vassallage for Vortigern, now shrunk 
 
 And dwindled from proud Britain's sov'reign lord 
 
 To petty Prince of Dyfed.* Ye yet cling 130 
 
 Even to the hollow semblance of a crown, 
 
 Ye gauzy summer motes, that float and bask 
 
 In the warm noontide of a court, light things 
 
 Of noise and glittering, that to royal ears 
 
 Tinkle your poisonous flatteries, then most proud 135 
 
 When most obtrusive your gay nothingness. 
 
 Under a rock where Samor lay unseen 
 Beneath the sparkling birchen shade, the bark 
 Glided so near, the silver-twinkling leaves 
 Play'd like a wavering veil o'er the bright face 1 40 
 
 And marble neck of that reclining Queen. 
 
 Now, Samor, now 'tis at thy thirsty lips 
 The cup of vengeance, now quaff deep, quaff' deep ! 
 Now, by the bones that bleach on Ambri plain, 
 By thy lost Emeric's silent chamber bowers, 145 
 
 By that soft cheek o'er which the primrose blooms, 
 
 * Or, Dimetia, i. e. South Wales.
 
 BOOK VII.J THE BRIGHT CITY. 175 
 
 Now launch the unerring javelin ! lo she tempts, 
 The Saxon's daughter, and the false King's bride, 
 The tame and baffled lingering of revenge. 
 
 And up the Avenger stood, a ray of light 150 
 
 Quiver d the brandish'd javelin, creeping awe 
 Froze up the rowers hearts, down fell the oars, 
 And to the shore round swung the ungovern'd bark. 
 
 But 'mid those feminine and timorous men 
 Intrepid that soft lady her fair front 155 
 
 Advanc"d, and, " Who art thou, whose impious arm 
 'Gainst royalty's anointed head dare sway 
 Irreverent menace ?" " One whom grinding wrong, 
 And injuries savage, black, and manifold 
 Have almost madden'd to the deep base shame 160 
 
 Of soiling his bright arms with woman's blood." 
 (He cast the javelin from him, and went on) 
 " But tell thy sire, Rowena, tell thy lord, 
 Britons have yet to learn their codes of war, 
 That yet fastidious vengeance will not slake 165 
 
 But on a worthy victim its deep thirst." 
 
 Then was the mingling of their looks elate, 
 As when two falcons, far from this low earth,
 
 176 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VII. 
 
 Meet in the sun's broad blaze, they glad and proud 
 Each of their kindred, flap their radiant wings. 170 
 
 " I know thee now, majestic Rebel ! thee 
 The untraceable, untameable ! I know 
 The chosen Man of Fate ! of all our race 
 The designated danger ; merciful 
 
 Saxon ne'er coupled with thy name till now. 175 
 
 Yet think not thou from rivalry aloof 
 In proud and lonely excellence to stand, 
 For with requital royal and profuse 
 I will outsoar thee ; this white woman's hand 
 Shall cast thee Hengist's pardon for thy deeds 1 80 
 
 Of guilty fame ; this smooth and purple cheek 
 Smile thee fair honours in Caer Merddhyn's court." 
 
 " Pardon, and honour, Lady ! one alone 
 Jealous prerogative of pardon holds 
 O'er Samor's soul, the universal God ! 185 
 
 Caer Merddhyn's honours ! to falTn Vortigern 
 To be instalFd prime flatterer, meekly laud 
 The bounteous-hearted monarch, who cast off 
 His throne, his people, and his fame, and thought 
 For bride so fair the dowry all too poor. 11
 
 BOOK VII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 177 
 
 No wrath, but brighter joy the Lady's cheek 
 Emblazon'd : " Why should slight and tinsel ties 
 Of blood and birthplace hold asunder hearts 
 Kindred in grandeur ? thou art brave and free, 
 And brave and free is Hengist ; why disdains 1 95 
 
 Valour to mite with valour, might with might ?" 
 " Valour beneath the sun goes proudly forth ; 
 And in the cloudy battle's van affronts 
 His hauberk'd foe, but folds not secret steel 
 Under the mild and festal robe of peace, 200 
 
 Nor creeps with midnight stealth on the weak sleep 
 Of women and soft infants. 11 Then appear'd 
 Tears in her haughty eyes, tears beautiful, 
 For drops of shame they were for those black crimes 
 That fleck 'd and dimm'd her father's blaze of fame. 205 
 Still paus'd not the Avenger. " Did my God, 
 Did Britain claim the offering, I dare hope 
 Yet I could rend from this worn heart away 
 Its pleasant lust of vengeance ; private wrongs 
 Are but thin drops in my full tide of hate ; 210 
 
 But all my country^ injuries, all my God's 
 Concentrate in the mighty passion flood, 
 
 N
 
 178 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VII. 
 
 My life, my soul, my being; we must be, 
 
 I and thy father, through all space of time, 
 
 Even to the end, Destroyer or Destroy 'd." 215 
 
 " Harsh and Implacable ! yet be not thou 
 Discourteous : wilt thou to Caer Merddhyn come, 
 An honoured guest, in freedom to depar t 
 When, where thou wilt, thy pledge my royal faith ?" 
 
 " A Saxon's faith !" burst bitter from his lips, 220 
 He checked the upbraiding tone. (< If fraud and sin 
 In such a lovely temple hold their shrine, 
 It were not strange did fiends of darkness dwell 
 Within yon beauteous sun !" But she with smile 
 Mild as May morning on a violet bank, 225 
 
 " Why stayst thou ? can the Unconquerable fear ?" 
 (f Fear, Lady ! fear and I are strangers now. 11 
 " What wondrous spell," pursued her playful mirth, 
 " So steels thee " " One most simple and most strong, 
 A calm proud conscience, and a faith in God." 230 
 
 Then sate he by the Lady's side ; set forth 
 Upon its dancing voyage down the tide 
 The bark obeisant to its dashing oars. 
 But those gay rowers veering with the wind
 
 BOOK VII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 179 
 
 Of soft court favour, 'gan with subtle joy 235 
 
 And cold factitious transport hail again 
 
 Their gentle peer, their old and honoured friend. 
 
 But with a glance the imperial lady froze 
 
 To silence their smooth-lying lips, nor brook'd 
 
 Idle intrusion on her rapturous feast. 240 
 
 Deep drank she in the majesty and pomp, 
 
 Wherewith instinct the Avenger mov'd and spake, 
 
 And what high beauty from heroic soul 
 
 Emanates on the outward shape, nor palTd 
 
 On her insatiate appetite the joy ; 245 
 
 Till that commercing deep of stately thoughts, 
 
 Proud admiration, and intense delight 
 
 In what is heart-subliming, towering, grand, 
 
 Regenerate from the trance that bath'd her sense, 
 
 Sprang up a fiery passion, o'er her flow'd 250 
 
 Secret the intoxicating extacy, 
 
 Love, dangerous, deep, intolerable love. 
 
 What beauteous seeming and magnificent, 
 Weareth that brilliant sin ! now not o'er her 
 Came it in melting languor, soft and bland, 255 
 
 But like her own high nature, eminent,
 
 180 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VII. 
 
 Disdainful, and elate, allied to all 
 
 That beautified, that glorified, and seenVd 
 
 Mysterious union of upsoaring spirits, 
 
 Wedding of lofty thoughts with lofty thoughts, 260 
 
 And the fine joy of being to this earth 
 
 A thing of wonder : and as floats the air 
 
 Clear, white, and stainless in the highest heavens, 
 
 Seem'd from its exaltation fresh and pure, 
 
 Above all taint her amorous madness rose. 265 
 
 Had it seem'd love, her very pride had quelTd 
 
 The unplum'd phantasy, her inbred scorn 
 
 Warr'd on the young infirmity, but now 
 
 Upon her soul's bold crest it planted high 
 
 Its banner of dominion, and she hail'd 
 
 Its coming as a guest of pomp and power. 
 
 But, though o'er all her features mantling spread 
 A vivid restlessness, a lustrous glow, 
 A deepening purple, though her eye indulg'd 
 Richer delirium, though her languid breath 275 
 
 Came with a throb and struggle from her heart, 
 Yet in that noble kindness that disdains 
 With greedy and suspicious gaze to search
 
 BOOK VII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 181 
 
 The sin that may be, rather chastening all 
 
 With his own native purity, serene 280 
 
 The Warrior sate. The placid gliding bark, 
 
 With motion like to stillness, flowing on, 
 
 Where with green diadem of woods above, 
 
 Beneath the white breadth of the expanding stream, 
 
 Caer Merddhyn in the liquid noontide rose. 285 
 
 Fair rose Caer Merddhyn, rose her towery height 
 The air enriching, nor mis-seeni'd a King 
 Such stately dwelling ; populous her streets, 
 And throng'd with human faces, but o'er all 
 A lassitude and heavy sadness hung, 290 
 
 Blankness of looks and weariness of hearts, 
 And listlessness of motion faltering on. 
 With all the pomps, the luxuries of life, 
 It seem'd a city of the dead. The shapes, 
 The steps of men were there, but soul and spirit, 295 
 And stirring energy, and vivid mind, 
 Passion and earnestness in torpor slept, 
 The cold blood stagnate in the drowsy veins. 
 Alike all feelings lazy languor seal'd ; 
 To still them, not delight, the mothers held 300
 
 182 SAMOR, LORD OP [BOOK VII. 
 
 Their infants, as the radiant Queen past on ; 
 
 But even in them the laughing spring of joy 
 
 Was dead, and dry, and frozen. " Oh, high God ! 
 
 (So spake the Wanderer in his secret soul) 
 
 Hath tyranny such bleak and withering power 305 
 
 Man's heavenly essence to embrute, and thou, 
 
 Once princely Vortigern, the tyrant thou !" 
 
 Worse sight ! worse shame ! they reach the broad hill's 
 
 brow, 
 
 Where in its royalty the palace look'd 
 Awe on its vassal city ; there, even there, 310 
 
 On that high threshold, armed Saxon files 
 From the weak people fenc'd the weaker King. 
 But through that legion hateful and accurst 
 Onward the Avenger that bright Lady's hand 
 Led, as the Sybil sage the Love-queen's son 315 
 
 Calm through the doleful regions of the dead. 
 
 Within the hall with royal banners hung, 
 And shields of royal blazon, royal arms, 
 Least royal he, sate Vortigern ; deep thought 
 And miserable on his faded brow 320 
 
 Traced its bleak lines, before him glittering lay
 
 BOOK VII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 183 
 
 The crown of Britain, which his eye perused 
 
 With a sick sadness, as each gem were full 
 
 Of woeful ruminations, blank remorse ; 
 
 And as bad Angels loathe, yet upward watch, 325 
 
 Heaven's Sun, bright type of their once radiant state, 
 
 Even so in bitterness that fallen King, 
 
 Painfully banquetting on self-reproach, 
 
 A drear remembrance of lost grandeurs drew 
 
 From that fair ring, and curs'd its blaze that flash'd 330 
 
 Past splendours o'er the darkness of his soul, 
 
 And memory from what height to what depth sunk, 
 
 He welters in the abyss of shame profound. 
 
 Beside him o'er his harp Aneurin bow'd, 
 
 The white-hair 'd Bard, sole faithful he, sole friend ; 335 
 
 For minds of poets from their own high sphere 
 
 Look down on earth's distinctions, high and low, 
 
 Sunken or soaring, as the equal sun 
 
 Sheds light along the vale and mountain's brow. 
 
 He in the hall of feasting who fast seal'd 340 
 
 The treasures of his harmony, now pours 
 
 Into the wounded heart his syrups sweet, 
 
 And laps it in the silken folds of sound.
 
 184 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VII. 
 
 But even along his strings the infectious grief 
 
 Hath crept, and withered up their wantonness 345 
 
 And lost in wayward wanderings of despair 
 
 Stray the vague tones ; anon bursts full and free 
 
 A start, a swell of pride, then sinks away 
 
 Involuntary to such doleful fall, 
 
 Misery so musical, its languid breath] 350 
 
 Feeds, while it softens the deep-rooted woe. 
 
 Such melodies at tragic midnight heard 
 
 'Mid a deserted city, gliding o'er 
 
 The deep green moss of tower and fane o'erthrown, 
 
 Had seem'd immortal sorrows in the air, 355 
 
 O'er man's inconstant grandeurs. Sad such wreck, 
 
 More sad, more worthy Angels woe the waste 
 
 And desolation of a noble mind, 
 
 High fertile faculties run wild and rank, 
 
 Bright fiery qualities in darkness slaked. 360 
 
 That liquid intercourse of grief broke off, 
 
 Thus spake the King " Who thus unbidden bursts 
 
 On kingly solitude ? why ask I thee ? 
 
 No brow between the Scot and Southern sea 
 
 Beareth such gallant insolence abroad, 365
 
 BOOK VII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 185 
 
 But Samor, the wild Wanderer, the denounc'd, 
 
 The desperate ! Art thou here to stun mine ears 
 
 With " Vortigern is ahject, lost, disgrac'd ? " 
 
 'Tis well that with thee comes my bright excuse, 
 
 My poverty's rich treasure, my night's star, 3/0 
 
 Beauteous Rowena." Joy seem'd his, but yet 
 
 Was effort .nd was struggle in that joy, 
 
 The clinging of a desperate soul to what 
 
 Tt would delight in, but did not delight, 
 
 The striving of a barren heart to force 375 
 
 The perished bloom of pleasure, " King, I come 
 
 To put a spell upon thee, conjure up 
 
 Thy valour from its tomb within thy breast, 
 
 To rend the adamant that trammels fast 
 
 Thy strength of soul. By yon bright glaive that smote 
 
 By Esk's wild bank, beneath his father's shield, 38 1 
 
 The royal Caledonian's son ; yon flag, 
 
 That, when by fated Aries rash Britain lost 
 
 Her wild bright hazard for imperial state, 
 
 Clouding the car of adverse victory shook 385 
 
 Untarnish'd in the sun its blazon broad, 
 
 Nor stoop'd, though all was fallen ; by you rich crown,
 
 186 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VII. 
 
 Whereon when flow'd the holy oil, this isle 
 From all her seas her gratulant acclaim 
 Sent up, and overcast heaven's vault with joy ; 390 
 
 By Vortigern, the great, the brave, the wise !" 
 " Brave ! wise ! aye, that it is. The veriest wretch 
 That from base birth-place to his baser grave, 
 Creeps with his fellow reptiles, that ne'er knew 
 What luxury 'tis, what loftiness to soar, 395 
 
 And with one soul to wield a host of souls 
 In free subjection, oh that fireless dust, 
 Clay uninform'd, that only lives to die, 
 That is to me a God : to me whose curse, 
 And brand, and mock it is to have been great 400 
 And be oh ! Samor, Samor, I was King, 
 King of this spacious, rich, and glorious isle, 
 And thou, and such as thou, my regal state 
 Didst vassal ; now, but now an eye may trace 
 The circuit of my realm, a shepherd's boy 405 
 
 Count my thin people, like his mountain flock." 
 " Oh, Monarch, ill must be atoned by good, 
 And to repentant deeds of mightiest fame 
 Heaven can upraise the farthest sunken. Power
 
 BOOK VII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 187 
 
 Fails not the aspirant will. I knew thee once 410 
 
 A being of those arduous energies, 
 
 Strong aspirations, graspings undefined, 
 
 Tumultuous thirsts and passions, that of man 
 
 Make Fiend or Angel. 1 " " True, too true, but thou 
 
 Hast seiz'd the Seraph's air-pi um'd wings, and I 415 
 
 The Demon's vans of darkness. Had all fallen, 
 
 All perish'd, one wide ignominy swept 
 
 Princes and Lords and People, I had found 
 
 A forlorn comfort in the general wreck ; 
 
 But in its curst sublimity thy fame 420 
 
 Obtrudes its radiant presence, and makes groan 
 
 This ruin of a Monarch." " Rare it is, 
 
 Oh King, in Fame's rich galaxy to shine 
 
 With stedfast blaze unwithering, but to dawn 
 
 From darkness, scatter off the black eclipse 425 
 
 That veils the wither'd lustre, this most rare, 
 
 Maketh man's soul an everlasting fire 
 
 Worthy the God that hung the Heavens with light ; 
 
 'Tis hard for downcast spirit to o'erleap 
 
 Ruin's sad barriers, but Heaven's angels drop 430 
 
 Soft dews beneath his burning feet, his flight
 
 188 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VII. 
 
 Imp with strong plumes ; his coming doth adorn 
 The earth he moves on ; till Remorse abash'd 
 Before the orient glories fades and flies. 11 
 
 " Peace ! peace ! thou canst not see what cold within 
 Lies like a palsy on the flagging powers, 436 
 
 Makes me a thin and shrinking reed, the sport 
 Of every lazy wind, the shape, the life, 
 The woe, without the faculties of man, 
 Shame, shame. Oh, turn thy lofty brow away, 440 
 Heavy it hangs o'er me like loosen'd crag 
 Over the mountain traveller I endure, 
 Of all this nation, the curse wrinkled lips, 
 Out-pointed fingers, ribald jests, coarse scorns. 
 Men that have lick'd the dust beneath my feet, 445 
 Worn their tame faces by the mould of mine, 
 Them, to confront even them." Unkingly tears 
 Chok'd the full utterance, met his eye the glance 
 Of that proud Queen, who, all unmark'd, drank in 
 That passionate discourse, from her contempt, 450 
 
 Though far below his own, he shrunk, and wrought 
 To a brief pride his wan dejected mien. 
 " Here is my throne, my kingdom in this breast,
 
 BOOK VII.J THE BRIGHT CITY. 189 
 
 My diadem the wealth of light that shines 
 From yon fair brow upon me." Stronger pain 455 
 Burst in upon the infant pride : forth fled 
 The Monarch, happy could he fly himself. 
 Him follow 1 d that old Bard. 'Tis vain, all vain, 
 (Thus spake the high Avenger.) " Beauteous Queen, 
 I claim thy faith, and part." " So swift, so soon, 460 
 Our festal cheer untasted, welcome cup 
 Uncrown'd?" " Fair Queen, in the pellucid stream 
 My beverage dances ; the coarse mountain boor 
 Shares his hard fare with me ; the hand that feasts 
 The winged wanderers of the air, feasts me." 465 
 
 With lips in act of speech apart, the Queen, 
 As to her will her tongue disdainful scorn'cL 
 Allegiance, chain'd in silence stood again. 
 Twice she essay"d to speak, twice o'er her shame 
 Swept his petrific hand, and rosy fire 470 
 
 O'er face and neck and forehead flush 'd, till shrunk 
 From that strong heat the eye, and down on earth 
 Settled its close fring'd orb ; with pressure soft 
 Her blushing fingers his bronz'd hand embraced. 
 
 " Here in this palace is my rule, this land 475
 
 190 SAMORj LORD OF [BOOK VII. 
 
 Is mine by my prevailing power, woul<Tst thou 
 
 Of this high seat, this realm be Lord ? Why starts 
 
 Unwonted colour to thy cheek ? why shrinks 
 
 Into its sphere thine eye ? Said I this soul, 
 
 And what soft beauty glitters in this shape, 480 
 
 Had it appalFd thee ?" Eagerly she grasp'd 
 
 The hand she held, as though from thence to wring 
 
 A swift reply, yet gaz'd upon the earth, 
 
 As wistful 'neath its darkness she might shrink 
 
 From her own shame. Blank wonder Samor's brow 485 
 
 To living stone congeal'd " This then the close 
 
 To all thy lavish love of Vortigern !" 
 
 " My love ! he was a King, upon his brow 
 
 The beauty of a royal crown, his height 
 
 Dominion, like a precious mantle, dipt 490 
 
 In heaven's pure light array'd, and o'er him flung 
 
 Transcendant grandeur ; above all he stood, 
 
 And I by such fond splendours wooed and won, 
 
 Took seat upon his eminence ; a plant 
 
 To spread, and mantle an imperial throne, 495 
 
 Not like tame ivy round a ruin creep, 
 
 Or wreathe the tomb of royalty. His pride
 
 BOOK VII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 191 
 
 I wedded, not his shame ; bats may not build 
 
 With the light-loving lark. He, he himself 
 
 By self-abasement has divorced me, set 500 
 
 Distance between us wide and far as heaven 
 
 From the black pit of infamy." " High Queen, 
 
 What seest thou in this bleak and batter'd brow, 
 
 These rough scath'd limbs, this wan and sunken face, 
 
 With misery's rugged furrows deeply plough'd, 505 
 
 To dazzle or delight ? Lone outcast I, 
 
 Friendless, but daily, nightly by fierce foes 
 
 Beset and hunted like a loathsome brute ; 
 
 Thy nation's mothers vent all hate on me, 
 
 Link with a scathing curse no name but mine. 510 
 
 Oh, what would'st thou and softness with a life 
 
 Like mine so dreary, desperate, dark, and fierce ?" 
 
 " Oh, 'tis because all hate thee, that I love, 
 Because all dread thee, I would mate with thee, 
 Thy miseries, thy dangers deeper plunge 5 1 5 
 
 My soul in passion, that alone thou walk'st, 
 Smote at by every arm, yet struck by none, 
 That mastery of thy single soul holds down 
 The Saxons mounting empire, clips it wings
 
 192 SAMOR, LORD OF [_ BOOK VII< 
 
 Rapacious and wide-shadowing, that thy fame 520 
 
 Like a rich rainbow cloud, sails on through air, 
 
 y O * 
 
 To mortal grasp impalpable, to sight 
 
 In lonely brilliance manifest ; my soul 
 
 To that thy airy chariot would aspire, 
 
 And dazzle by thy side, and daunt the world. 1 ' 525 
 
 " Loose and unrighteous to thy lawful Lord, 
 Yet would'st thou poison with adulterous shame 
 Its spotless lustre, its pure white defile, 
 And clog with guilt its vaunted wheels." " Guilt ! Guilt ! 
 Ah, now I know why mine eye shrunk from thine, 530 
 Why sought the base earth, why brook 'd not my tongue 
 The motions of my will but we shrink we ? 
 The lofty are their own high law ; dull codes, 
 Cold customs, trammel but the base ; our sins 
 Shall be the wanderings of the meteor fire, 535 
 
 More wonder'd than the regular calm stars : 
 Our acting shall ennoble, what tame tongues 
 Falter at even in word, opinions hues 
 Shall at our haughty bidding shift and change, 
 And what we do, shall therefore be calTd great. 540 
 Yes, yes, I feel thy shrinking hand, I see
 
 BOOK VII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 193 
 
 White-lipped abhorrence quivering in thy mien 
 As at some loathsome viper. Woe, oh woe 
 To him that tramples on the viper's wrath." 
 Then shook she back her golden hair, away 545 
 
 Cast his cold hand. " Ho, Saxons at the gate, 
 Ho, Saxons, to your injured Queen !" The hall 
 Sudden was walled with fiery arms and spears 
 Bickering fierce menace ; numerous, swift, and strong, 
 As when old Cadmus by clear Dirce spread 550 
 
 That dangerous seed uncouth, long, wide, and bright 
 Under the fatal ploughshare leaped to life, 
 To havock the wild harvest, and shook up 
 Its bearded grim fertility of death. 
 But then his sword the Avenger grasped, and cried, 
 " Twice have I trusted Saxon faith, and twice 556 
 
 Beneath my feet the smooth fair ice hath burst 
 Its glassy treachery : once this arm redeem'd 
 The infatuate blindness. Saxons, I am he, 
 Who with his single strength on Ambri plain 560 
 
 Scared your hot massacre, your proudest necks 
 Strew'd for his pavement of retreat, ye see 
 Mine arm un withered, my unbroken sword." 
 
 o
 
 194 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VII. 
 
 But they sprung onward ; that bright Lady's brow 
 Awful delight absorbed the while, she moved 565 
 
 Before their wrath, her arm's high sway wav'd back 
 Their fury from her presence. Swift they came, 
 Swift they departed ; silence down the walls 
 Crept o'er the banners broad, and pendant shields. 
 
 She look'd on Samor, all his pride was hers, 570 
 
 She look'd on Samor, all that pride was quench 'd 
 In exquisite mild transport ; at his feet 
 The Queen, the haughty, the disdainful fell. 
 Her fine fair hair lay floating on the earth ; 
 Her round arms clung beseeching to his knees. 5/5 
 
 " A curse upon me, that my wilful heart 
 'Gainst head so brave, so noble, dream'd of wrath, 
 Of danger and rude menace. What I did, 
 I know not, what I said, it pleased not thee, 
 Enough, 'twas base, 'twas criminal, 'twas false. 280 
 
 Oh Chief! when we would compass wild desires, 
 Words alien to the heart start up, yet seem 
 Most strong persuasion ; of ah" serpents, scorn 
 Stings to worse frenzy, worst a woman's soul. 
 Forget, all, all forget, but one soft word, 585
 
 BOOK VII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 195 
 
 And that I charge thee, by thy rescued life, 
 
 Forget not."" " Lady, were I rich in love, 
 
 As yon full Sun in light, I could not spare 
 
 A beam upon a Saxon. Now, but now 
 
 The fountains of my heart are dry, the stock 590 
 
 Where fresh and rich my green affections bloom'd, 
 
 Is withered to the root ; hard, doleful, dead, 
 
 My breast's impassive iron scatters off 
 
 All melting blandishments, all soft delights, 
 
 As the wav'd banner the thin morning dews. 595 
 
 With one harsh discord to consummate all ; 
 
 Thou art thy Father's daughter." She arose 
 
 In miserable calmness resolute. 
 
 She took his hand, she led him forth, beneath 
 
 The murky scowling of those Saxons stern, 600 
 
 Whose angry wonder scarce herself controll'd : 
 
 Gave one fond lingering pressure, and but one, 
 
 Then watch 'd him through the city, up the vale, 
 
 If gazing with such emptiness of eye 
 
 Were watching, which his distance seem'd to freeze 605 
 
 Gradual to hollower wanness ; down her arms 
 
 Hung, only that she stood and faintly breath'd, 
 
 Pulse, motion, sense, life, all seem'd fled with him.
 
 196 SAMOR, LORD OF [fiOOK VII. 
 
 Sudden above her, the mild air 'gan waft 
 Wild fiery sounds, like those of battle morn 610 
 
 Which champing war-steed's neigh, and lance's rush, 
 Impatient answers. On the palace top 
 Aneurin in his bardic glory stood ; 
 The sunlight on his old prophetic brow 
 Flash'd strong, yet dazzled not, his long white locks 615 
 Stream'd back upon his azure robe, like rack 
 O'er heaven's unclouded blue, his pale thin hand 
 With strength of mounting phrenzy launched abroad 
 The war-song of Cassivelan : glad sounds 
 To that tranc'd queen, for Samor's hastier port 620 
 Deliberate grandeur slackened, he look'd back, 
 Proud gratitude for that wild flattery. " All, 
 All in one wide conspiracy, (so spake 
 Rowena's bitter joy) thee, only thee 
 To glorify. Oh, were man mute, this earth 625 
 
 Would leap to utterance of thy fame, the winds 
 Find voices eloquent, the streams, the stones, 
 To lofty music burst of thy renown." 
 
 Slowly retired the Queen ; she calPd around 
 Her slaves, her handmaids ; arrogant their looks 630 
 Seem'd to confront her, eyes aye wont to shrink
 
 BOOK VII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 197 
 
 Before her gaze, now seem'd to pry and pierce 
 
 Her deepest soul's recesses ; and she blush'd 
 
 Even in her plenitude of scorn. They stood 
 
 Trembling before her wayward mood, yet seem'd 635 
 
 Mockeries their tremors ; solitude she sought, 
 
 Yet solitude found none, things senseless took 
 
 Stern cognizance of all her acts, her thoughts : 
 
 Eyes hung the empty walls, weak laughing sounds 
 
 Of triumph o'er her shame, pervaded wide 640 
 
 The tranquil air, all with herself at league 
 
 Shook scorns upon herself. Dim evening falls, 
 
 O'er earth and sky, slow flits the shadowy night. 
 
 " Slaves there !" she cried, " my steed ! alone I ride." 
 
 She wont to find her every look a law, 645 
 
 Now almost wonders all so swift obey. 
 
 The moon's white sickle tenderly array'd 
 With dubious lustre the gray heavens ; scarce tinged 
 The dew-webs, whiten'd not the yellow crown 
 Of the unwaving forest ; ignorant, 650 
 
 Or with feign'd ignorance 'guiling even herself, 
 Long upon Samor's track the Lady rides. 
 
 Tis not a stag that couches on the heath ;
 
 198 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VII. 
 
 Hope on her dim cheek brightens, from her steed 
 
 Soft she dismounts, she ruffles not the fern, G55 
 
 The moss springs printless up beneath her feet, 
 
 So light her gliding to that slumbering man. 
 
 She knows him, she starts back. " Oh, came I here, 
 
 Lost and abas'd, him, only him to seek, 
 
 That answers mine immodest heart with flight, 660 
 
 With scorn, perchance with hate ! yet wonderous he, 
 
 Wonderous in rest as action ! Sleep'st thou calm, 
 
 While numberless as these brown heath-spikes rise 
 
 Legions of spears around thee, for thy blood 
 
 Leagued in one furious thirst ? Unwise and rash ! 665 
 
 To night thou slumber's! not unguarded, sleep ; 
 
 And if Rowena mingle with thy dreams, 
 
 Sleep calmly, breathingly as now ! He wakes 
 
 Oh, hateful even in slumber that harsh name 
 
 Grates on his sense." His eyes unfold, nor start, 670 
 
 So soft the vision ; wonder's self is calm, 
 
 And quaffs it in with mild unshrinking gaze. 
 
 Her long bright hair, like threads of silver streak 
 
 The moonlight, her fair forehead's marble arch 
 
 Wild joyous fearf illness, extatic doubt, 675
 
 BOOK VII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 199 
 
 Bathe with the dewiness of melting snow, 
 
 Ere yet unblanch'd its stainless glitter pure. 
 
 Oh, soft and slow that melody of mien 
 
 Steals o'er the slumberer, ere the reason woke, 
 
 The sense was drunken, one hand folded tier's 680 
 
 That answer'd not its pressure, nor withdrew, 
 
 Tremulous, yet motionless : his rising head 
 
 Found on her other arm such pillowing soft, 
 
 As the fond ringdove on its mate's smooth down. 
 
 They spake not, moved not. 'Tis the noon of night, 685 
 
 Hour known to Samor not by sign or sound 
 
 Of man's wise art to mark the fleeting time, 
 
 Nor changing of the starry heavens ; but e'er 
 
 By motion of the secret soul, by calm 
 
 Habitual sliding into the sooth'd heart, 690 
 
 Distinct from turbulent day and weary eve, 
 
 Emeries own hour, her consecrated spot 
 
 In his life's wilderness. She comes, she comes, 
 
 The clouds have dropt her from their silvery folds ; 
 
 The mild air wafts her, the rank earth impure 695 
 
 Stainless she skims, distrust, doubt, fear, no place 
 
 Find in the sinless candour of her mien.
 
 200 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VII. 
 
 In languid soft security she melts 
 
 / 
 
 On Samor's fever'd soul, she fills his sense, 
 
 Her softness like the nightingale's first notes 700 
 
 After rude evening, o'er his passion steals : 
 
 He cast not off Rowena's hand, it fell 
 
 As from a dead man's grasp ; slow rose his head 
 
 From its fair zone, as from a bank of snow 
 
 The winter traveller, by its smoothness guil'd 705 
 
 Almost to deathful sleep ; he dares not now 
 
 Welcome that heavenly visitant, nor could, 
 
 Nor would he her mild rescue bid depart. 
 
 Nor dares he now with chill abhorrence shrink 
 
 From that empassion'd Lady; on his lips 710 
 
 Clung wretched, pale, beseechinguess, that framed 
 
 Nor word nor sound. But time for thought in her 
 
 Gave time for shame, for struggling pride gave time. 
 
 " Thou deem'st me loose, wild, wanton, deem'st me come 
 
 To lure thee with light sweets of lawless love, 715 
 
 Hunting mine own shame through the midnight woods. 
 
 Oh false, all false. How thee shall I persuade, 
 
 Aye me ! that scarce persuade myself, 'twas chance, 
 
 Twas fate, 'twas ministration of bad spirits,
 
 BOOK VII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 201 
 
 That led me thoughtless, hopeless did I say 720 
 
 Hopeless ? yet scorn not thou, the lightest won 
 
 Are oft best won. Oh why, ere now so mild, 
 
 So gentle, why so stern, so ghastly still ?" 
 
 '* Thou lov'st my pride, my honour, my renown ; 
 
 Now, Queen Rowena, may'st thou do a deed 725 
 
 Shall make my pride thine own, make tbee my fount 
 
 Of honour, all my noontide of renown 
 
 On thee in all its golden brilliance shine ; 
 
 And if henceforth man's voice cry out, High deeds 
 
 Hath Samor's arm achieved, thy heart shall bound 730 
 
 And thy lips answer, ' Mine ! all mine P and I 
 
 Will bless thee, thank thee, praise thee for that truth." 
 
 O'er proud Rowena past his solemn voice 
 Tremendously delightful, as the sound 
 Of thunder over Jove's bolt-minist'ring bird, 735 
 
 That sternly rocks on th' agitated air. 
 " Speak, speak, 'tis hours, 'tis years until 'tis done." 
 Return'd one brief, one powerful word " Depart." 
 She struggled yet to wear the lofty light 
 That flush'd her brow, she struggled, and she fell 74O 
 Her white arms round his neck. Light as the breeze
 
 202 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VII. 
 
 Pass'd over his her cheek. Then back 
 
 She started, seiz'd her courser's rein ; far, far 
 
 The rocks gave answer to its trampling hoofs. 
 
 To solitude, to peace, ah, not to peace ! 745 
 
 Was Samor left ; large dewy beads distil 
 From his full brow, as from the forest leaves 
 The sunny icicle : fierce, merciless, 
 Relentless inquest o'er himself he holds, 
 In him a sin in thought is sin in deed. 750 
 
 " And I, that on the frantic waxen wings 
 Of mine own arrogance, have deem'd my soul 
 Kindred and heritor of that rich bliss 
 That bathes the Angels radiant wings in strength ; 
 That wander 'd o'er this sublunary wild 755 
 
 As with a chartered scorn, that mix'd with men 
 But in disdainful mastery to o'er-rule 
 Their dim and wavering destinies, that took 
 With noble violence admiring earth, 
 O'er me hath passion wound her silken nets ; 760 
 
 And that soft Dalila, lascivious sin, 
 Shorn my full honours. Now, who clothed my steps 
 With darkness, dread, and danger, hung my arms
 
 BOOK VII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 203 
 
 With light'ning, kept at bay the envious death 
 
 That feasts upon the famous of mankind ; 765 
 
 God, God abandons me. So farewell pride, 
 
 And with pride farewell strength, the burning hope, 
 
 Glad agonies, brave bliss of holy war, 
 
 Transports of trampling on my country's foes, 
 
 And all the beauty, majesty, renown, 770 
 
 ^ 
 
 Vengeance, of thy triumphal state. Ye too, 
 
 Farewell, soft midnights, delicate regards 
 
 Fix'd on me from fond eyes yet bright from heaven, 
 
 Mild agitations of the purer sense, 
 
 Fresh bloomings of my faded joys, ye dreams 775 
 
 Lovelier than actual bliss, as heaven than earth, 
 
 Emeric abandons me. For how can snow 
 
 Drop on this foul earth stainless ? how canst thou 
 
 Visit unsullied thy sad shrine defil'd, 
 
 Or beam upon this lust-benighted heart ? 780 
 
 Oh never felt before, the fear to front 
 
 Mine own past life, the ignoble shame that burns 
 
 At human sight, and memory that ne'er sleeps ; 
 
 Heart-sickening at its own deformities, 
 
 A miserable welcome bid I ye, 785
 
 204 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VII- 
 
 Come, dismal comforters, faint-footed guides, 
 Teach me the hate of life, the dread of death." 
 
 And Samor wander 'd on, not now with scope 
 Resolv'd, and steady purpose that absorbed 
 And fix'd on one stern centre all his soul, 7^ 
 
 True as the arrow to its mark. Now where, 
 Whither, is all indifferent, he pursues 
 The wildering of the forest track, the brook 
 Winding its lucid error : two sad days 
 And chance hath led him back to Wye's green bank. 795 
 
 Sudden before him swept in gallant pack, 
 Fleet hounds, whose keen scent quafTd the morning dews. 
 Sole on their track a noble huntsman bow'd 
 O'er his steed's high-curv'd neck. But when he saw 
 Samor, that scarce his coming markVL or heard, 800 
 He vaulted from his uncheck'd steed so fleet, 
 The courser seem'd to feel it not, but on 
 Went stately bounding down the glen. But he 
 Unslung his bugle horn, his hunting spear 
 Cast to the winds, and held his burnished sword 805 
 To heaven, as though to paragon its light. 
 
 " Oh, thunderer Thor, but one bold prayer of mine
 
 BOOK VII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 205 
 
 E'er scaled thy heavens, and that, munificent, 
 
 I thank thee for thy granting. Samor now, 
 
 Now Christian, now baptiz'd in German blood, 810 
 
 Avenger, we are met, and ere we part, 
 
 Earth must be ruddier with some blood of ours. 11 
 
 " Noble Argantyr, deem not thou unknown 
 Thy name, thy presence, nor forgot, how thou, 
 When Murther quaff'd his glut on Ambri plain, 815 
 Didst hold thy jealous steel aloft, lest stain 
 From gore by treason shed, should dim its gleam ; 
 And when I burst my iron toils, and won 
 My dangerous safety, how indignant joy 
 Stood bathing thy stern brow. Brave Anglian, thou, 820 
 But thou, of German race, to faint sloth chill'st 
 My sword^ quick wrath." " What, Samor out of love 
 With strife, with music of conflicting steel ? 
 Hath Abisa's pale blood so quench 'd his fire ? 
 Were't not I now could force my glorious will, 825 
 Yea, I could sue thee, Briton, for the joy. 
 Thou wilt not credit, air hath been defil'd 
 With creeping whispers cold, that I, I shrunk 
 . To second in his dangers that brave boy,
 
 206 SAMOR, LORD OF BOOK VII. 
 
 As though Argantyr would partake a foe, 830 
 
 And with division spiritless and base, 
 Mete out his province in one man to slay, 
 Hear ; ' Well the famous Anglian won his half 
 
 t "I 
 
 Of that great conquest !' But I have thee now 
 
 Whole, undivided, now, or man, or more, 835 
 
 If aught be mortal in thee, guard that spot, 
 
 t '/' 
 My steel will search it." " Samor is not now 
 
 As Samor was, but knows not yet to scorn 
 
 Such brave allurements.'" Forth his anlace flash'd, 
 
 But not as wont, uplooks he to the sky ; 840 
 
 - > : . '**&(,* DMMi*rv ? rtf 
 
 He thinks not now, oh, if I fall, float near, 
 
 My Emeric, that no Angel's voice but thine 
 
 Welcome thy Samor to his opening heaven : 
 
 And if I vanquish, Britain and the Lord 
 
 Take to your hecatomb one Saxon more. 845 
 
 But on Argantyr sprung, as wanton boy 
 To the cool health of summer streamlet pure : 
 Around, above, beneath his winged sword 
 Leaps in its fiery joy, red, fierce and far 
 As from a midnight furnace start the sparks. 850 
 
 As brazen statue on proud palace top,
 
 BOOK VII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 207 
 
 Shakes off the pelting tempest, so endur'd 
 
 Samor, but not in patient hope austere 
 
 Of victory ; but habitual skill and power 
 
 Protracting long the cold indifferent strife ; 855 
 
 Till twice that sword that in its downward sweep 
 
 Flaslf'd the white sunlight, cloudy rose and dim 
 
 With ominous purple : then his nature burst 
 
 Its languid bonds, not front alone to front ; 
 
 But soul to soul die riot of the fight 860 
 
 They mingle, like to giddy chariot wheels 
 
 The whirling of their swords, as fierce the din 
 
 Of buckler brast, helm riven, and breastplate cloven, 
 
 As when the polar wind the ice field rends. 
 
 Such nobleness sublime of hideous fight 865 
 
 From Ilion's towers her floating mantled dames 
 
 Saw not, nor Thebes, when Capaneus calPd down 
 
 Jove's thunder, and disdain'd its fall, nor pride 
 
 Of later Bards, when mad Orlando met 
 
 On that frail bridge the giant Sarzan king, 870 
 
 And with him in the boiling flood dash'd down. 
 
 Till that fond eagerness, that brave delight 
 
 O'erpower'd frail nature, breathless each, and each
 
 208 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VII. 
 
 Careless, yet conscious of deep trenching wounds, 
 
 For admiration paused, for hope, for power 875 
 
 To satiate the unwearying strong desire. 
 
 Lo, the far hills Argantyr first descried 
 Radiant with spearmen, and he cried, " Away, 
 'Tis Hengist with his bloody bands, I know 
 The motion of his crest ; brave Chief, away."" 880 
 " Away ! and leave Argantyr here to boast 
 Samor hath fled him !" " Oh, we meet again ; 
 Thou art a quarry for the Gods, base lance 
 Must ne'er vaunt blood of thine. Argantyr spares 
 But for himself such noble game. Still here ! 885 
 
 Froward and furious, if thou need'st must die, 
 Why so must I ; fell Hengist will not spare 
 An inch of quivering life on all thy limbs. 
 And I with such a jealous lust pursue 
 A noble conquest o'er thee, I must shield 890 
 
 Thy life with mine x for my peculiar fame ; 
 Freely mine own death on the hazard cast 
 For such a precious stake as slaying thee." 
 
 As through dusk twilight stolen, love-breathless maid 
 For interchange of gentle vows, by noise 895
 
 BOOK VII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 209 
 
 g 
 Startled of envious footstep, chides away 
 
 Her lingering youth, yet for his lingering loves, 
 Till her fond force hath driven him from her side ; 
 So earnest the brave Anglian sued to flight 
 Reluctant Samor ; o'er his sword hilt bow'd, 900 
 
 Stood sorrowing for the wounds himself had made, 
 That marrM his speedier flight. Anon approach'd 
 Hengist, encircled by his state of spears, 
 And bright Rowena by his side. " But now 
 Thy steed along our camp rush\l masterless, 905 
 
 Therefore we seek thee, Anglian. How ! thou bleedst ! 
 And strange ! thy foeman bites not the red earth. 
 What might hath scathless met Argantyr's steel ?" 
 
 " He, gasp'd he here in death, thy soul would dance, 
 The Wanderer !"" " He ! he wars but on soft boys, 910 
 He dare not front Argantyr." " False, 'tis false !" 
 Burst from Rowena; " he dares deeds our Gods 
 Had shrunk from (Hengist 's cloudy brow she mark'd), 
 Or whence his proud claim to my father's hate ?" 
 " Where hath the Recreant fled? Pursue, pursue !" 915 
 Cried Hengist. " Hast thou wings to cleave the air ? 
 Or windest the deep bosom of the earth, 
 
 r
 
 210 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VII. 
 
 Thou may'st overtake. Yet Sarnor is not now," 
 
 He said, " as Samor was ; were Samor more, 
 
 Earth and Argantyr had been wed erenow." 920 
 
 So spake the Anglian ; leap'd Rowena's heart 
 In hope, in shame, in anguish, in delight. 
 " Oh, hath my softness sunk so deep to change 
 Thy steadfast nature, yet thus changed, thy might 
 Wrests honour from thy foeman's lips." " Oh now," 925 
 Laughing in baffled bitterness, exclaim'd 
 The Saxon King, " now weave we softer nets 
 To toil this dangerous Wanderer. What say'st thou, 
 Fair-eyM Rowena, now thou hast cast off 
 Thy fond, thy lovesick Vortigern ? perchance 930 
 
 The sunshine of thy beauty might melt down 
 This savage to a tame submissive slave." 
 
 Rowena, whose proud look with beauteous awe 
 Smote her beholders, wore her loveliness 
 As though she gloried in its power; now close 935 
 
 Crowded o'er all her face her mantle's folds, 
 That ill conceal'd the purple fire within. 
 Then forward past they to the Saxon camp. 
 But far by Wye's green marge had Samor fled,
 
 BOOK VII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 211 
 
 Till now the ebbing blood with short quick throb 940 
 
 Beat at his heart, his languid feet were clogg'd 
 
 With the thick forest leaves, the keen air search'd 
 
 With a cold thrill his wounds. He falls, scarce sobs ; 
 
 " Merciful God, on this in all my life 
 
 The sole, the single day I would not die." 945 
 
 Then faint, and sickly, an oppressive rest 
 
 Seal'd sight and sense. When sleep fell on him, eve 
 
 Was gathering fast, but when he woke, morn shot 
 
 From the gray cast her faint pellucid light 
 
 His blood was staunclVd, a soothing coolness lay 950 
 
 On his mild wounds, the rude arch of the boughs 
 
 Seem'd woven with officious care to veil, 
 
 The bright Sun from his eyelids ; the dry leaves 
 
 Were gathered round him, like a feathery couch. 
 
 He lay and listen'd, a soft step approach'd 955 
 
 Light as the wren along the unshaking spray, 
 
 And o'er him lean'd a maiden pale, yet blithe 
 
 With tinge of joy, that settled hue. " Is't thou, 
 
 Gentle Myfanwy ?"" " Blessings on thy waking ; 
 
 I long'd to tell thee what sweet dreams have sooth'd 960 
 
 My sorrows since we parted ; in my sleep
 
 SAMOR, LORD OP [BOOK VII. 
 
 My parents came, and with them that fond youth, 
 And they smil'd on him kindly. Think'st thou God 
 Can have such mercy on sins dark as mine !" 
 " God's plenteous mercies on thee for thy care 965 
 Of me, sweet maiden. 11 " Pardon me, oh thou, 
 Heaven pardon me, when first I saw thee cold, 
 Helpless, and bleeding, evil thoughts arose 
 Of my poor Abisa's untimely death.* 1 
 
 But deeper meditation Samor's mind 970 
 
 Beset. " Almighty, truely thou ordain'st 
 Wisdom from baby lips ; what moral high 
 Breathes in this simple maid's light-hearted smiles ! 
 And I, for wisdom fanVd, for pride of mind, 
 Insulted with weak doubts thy infinite, 975 
 
 Illimitable goodness ; she so soft, 
 So delicate, so sinful and so sad, 
 Springs on her airy plumes of hope to thee. 
 Oh, were mine guilt of act not thought, the stain 
 Thy fount of living mercy might efface. 11 980 
 
 He prest a kiss upon her cheek so pure 
 Even Abisa had granted it. " Farewell, 
 My kind preserver, cherish thou thy hope,
 
 BOOK VII.] THE BRIGtfT CITY. 213 
 
 As 'twere an infant fondling on thy breast." 
 
 And fresh with hope, like gay stag newly bath'd, 985 
 
 Forth on his voyage lone the Avenger past.
 
 214 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VIII. 
 
 BOOK VIII. 
 
 His path is ""mid the Cambrian mountains wild; 
 The many fountains that well wandering down 
 Plinlimmon's huge round side their murmurs smooth 
 Float round him ; Idris, that like warrior old 
 His batter'd and fantastic helmet rears, 5 
 
 Scattering the elements wrath, frowns o'er his way 
 A broad irregular duskiness. Aloof 
 Snowdon, the triple-headed giant, soars, 
 Clouds rolling half way down his rugged sides. 
 
 Slow as he trod amid their dizzy heights, 10 
 
 Their silences and dimly mingling sounds, 
 Rushing of torrents, roar of prisoned winds ; 
 O'er all his wounded soul flow'd strength, and pride, 
 And hardihood ; again his front soar'd up
 
 BOOK VIII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 215 
 
 To commerce with the skies, and frank and bold 15 
 
 His majesty of step his rugged path 
 
 Imprinted. So in old poetic faith 
 
 Hyperion from his native Delian bowers, 
 
 'Mid the rich music of those sisters nine, 
 
 Walk'd the bright heights of Helicon, and shook 20 
 
 His forehead's clustering glories wide, and flush'd 
 
 The smoothness of his fair immortal face 
 
 With purple Godhead. Whence, ye mountains, whence 
 
 The spirit that within your secret caves 
 
 Holds kindred with man's soul ? Is't that your pomp 25 
 
 Of exaltation, your aerial crowns 
 
 In their heaven-scaling rivalry cast forth 
 
 Bold sympathies of loftiness, and scorn 
 
 Contagious ? or in that your purer air, 
 
 Where fresh and virgin from its golden fount, 30 
 
 Lies the fine light at morning, or at eve 
 
 Melts upward and resolves itself from earth, 
 
 And with its last clear trembling round ye clings : 
 
 The soul, unwound its coarse material chains, 
 
 Basks in its own divinity, and feels 35 
 
 There in the verge and portal of the heavens,
 
 216 SAMOR, LORD OF [fiOOK VIII. 
 
 The neighbourhood of brighter worlds unseen ? 
 
 Where the blue Glasslyn hurries her fleet course 
 
 To wanton on the yellow level sands, 
 
 On either side in sheer ascent abrupt 40 
 
 The rocks, like barriers that in elder time 
 
 WalTd the huge cities of the Anakim, 
 
 Upblacken to the sky, whose tender blue 
 
 With mild relief salutes th' o'erlabour'd sight. 
 
 There on the scanty slippery way, that winds 45 
 
 With the stream's windings, Samor loiters on. 
 
 But who art thou, that in the Avenger's path 
 
 Standest in dark serenity ? what joy 
 
 Instinct amid thy thick black locks reveals 
 
 The full voluptuous quietude within ? 50 
 
 Oh, Prophet ! in thy wanderings wide and far 
 
 Amid the pregnant hours of future time, 
 
 Haply the form of Samor, disarray 'd 
 
 Calamity's sad vesture, hath appear'd 
 
 In plenitude of glory. Hence thine eye 55 
 
 With recognition glad and bright salutes 
 
 The Man of Fate. To earth that Prophet old 
 
 Bow'd down, then look'd he on the waters dark.
 
 BOOK VIII. J THE BRIGHT CITY. 217 
 
 Then upward to the mountains. " Stony earth, 
 
 Within thy secret bosom feel'st not thou 60 
 
 A wonderous presence ? dwells not, thou blue stream, 
 
 Under thy depth of waves a silent awe ? 
 
 Yea, Snowdon, lift thou up in sternest pride 
 
 Thy cloudy mantled brow ; ye know him all, 
 
 Ye know the Avenger." " Merlin mock not thou 65 
 
 Thy fellow creature of the dust, the child 
 
 Of sin and sorrow, with overlaboured phrase, 
 
 Abasing the immortal elements 
 
 From their high calm indifference to sense 
 
 Of our light motions. Simple truth severe 70 
 
 Best seemeth aged lips ; oh, holy famed 
 
 And sage, how ill strong Wisdom's voice melts down 
 
 To the faint chime of flattery. 1 " " Poor of pride ! 
 
 Feeble of hope ! thou seest thyself forlorn, 
 
 An hunted wanderer in thy native land. 75 
 
 I see thee clad in victory and revenge, 
 
 Thy glory sailing wide on all the winds. 
 
 Beautiful with thy blessings at thy feet 
 
 Thy own fair Britain, Fate so freely spreads, 
 
 Her mystic volume to my sight" " Oh, blind. 80
 
 218 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VIII. 
 
 And ignorant as blind our insect race ! 
 
 The mole would count the sunbeams, the blind worm 
 
 Search the hid jewels in the depths of earth, 
 
 And man, dim dreamer, would invade the heavens, 
 
 Self-seated in the Almighty's councils read 85 
 
 The secrets of Omniscience, yea, with gaze 
 
 Familiar scrutinize the Inscrutable. 
 
 I tell thee, Merlin, that the soul of man 
 
 Is destiny on earth ! God gave us limbs 
 
 To execute, and intellect to will 90 
 
 Or good or evil, and his unseen Spirit 
 
 Our appetites of holiness, else faint 
 
 And wavering doth corroborate : hence man's prides, 
 
 Man's glories, and man's virtues all are God's. 
 
 If yet this heart unwearied may bear on, D5 
 
 Nor from its holy purpose faintly swerve, 
 
 The Lord be prais'd, its fate is pride and joy. 
 
 But if, and oh the peril ! it play false 
 
 Its country's lofty hazard, shall it shift 
 
 On wayward destiny its sloth and sin ? 100 
 
 Evil is not, where man no evil wills, 
 
 And good is not, where will not man and God."
 
 BOOK VIII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 219 
 
 " Chief wise as brave, as to our feeble sight 
 Yon pebble's slight circumference, the Past, 
 The Present, and the future of this world 105 
 
 Are to the All-seeing vision ; oft doth Heaven 
 In sign and symbol duskily reveal 
 The unborn future ; oft Fate's chariot wheels 
 Are harbinger'd by voices that proclaim 
 The fashion of their coming ; gifted Seers 1 1 
 
 Feel on their lips articulate the deeds 
 Of later days, and dim oracular sights 
 Crowd the weak eyes, till palTd attention faint 
 To dizziness." " Oh, Merlin, time hath been 
 When in the guilty cities the Lord's voice 115 
 
 Hath spoken by his Prophets, hath made quail 
 By apparitions ominous and dire 
 Strong empires on their unassail'd height. 
 But oh, for us of this devoted isle, 
 Drench J d with the vials of Almighty wrath, 1 20 
 
 To gaze up, and beseech the clouds to rain 
 Bright miracles on this poor speck of earth." 
 
 " Shame choke thy speech, despondent slanderer! thee 
 Avenger ! this from thee ! Away ! my lips
 
 220 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VIII. 
 
 Burn with the fire of heaven, my heart flows o'er 125 
 
 With gladness and with glory. Peerless Isle, 
 
 How dost thou sit amid thy blue domain 
 
 Of ocean like a sceptred Queen ! The bonds 
 
 Like flax have wither'd from thy comely limbs. 
 
 Thou, the strong freedom of thy untam'd locks 130 
 
 Shaking abroad, adornest God's fair world. 
 
 Thou noblest Eden of man's fallen state, 
 
 Apart and sever'd from the common earth, 
 
 Even like a precious jewel, deep and far 
 
 In the abyss of time thy dawn of pride 135 
 
 Still with a fuller and more constant blaze 
 
 Grows to its broad meridian, and Time's rolls 
 
 Are silent of thy setting. Oh, how fair 
 
 The steps of freemen in thy vales of peace ; 
 
 Thy broad towns teem with wealth, thy yellow fields 
 
 Laugh in their full fertility ; thy bays 141 
 
 Whiten and glisten with thy myriad barks. 
 
 The Angels love thee, and the airs of heaven 
 
 Are gladden'd by thy holy hymns, while Faith 
 
 Sits on thy altars, like a nestling dove, 145 
 
 In unattainted snowyness of plume."
 
 BOOK VIII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 221 
 
 " Now, by my soul, thou strange and solemn Man, 
 Mistrust thee more I dare not ; be't a dream 
 Or revelation of immortal truth, 
 
 Of Britain's fame I cannot choose but hear 1 50 
 
 With a child's transport. 11 Then the Prophet shook 
 The dark profusion of his swelling hair 
 With a stern triumph; then his aged eye 
 Grew restless with delight : his thin white hand 
 Closing around the Baron's arm, lay there 155 
 
 Like a hard glove of steel. He led him on, 
 Till now the black and shaggy pass spread out 
 To a green quiet valley, after named 
 The Bed of Gelert, that too-faithful hound 
 Slain fondly by his erring Lord : the stream 160 
 
 Here curl'd more wanton, lightly wafting down 
 The last thin golden leaves the alders dropt, 
 Like fairy barges skimming the blue waves. 
 That stream o'erpass'd, rightward their silent way 
 Lay to the foot of Snowdon. Pause was none, 165 
 They front the steep ascent, and upward wind 
 A long, sheer, toilsome path, their footfalls struck 
 Upon the black bare stillness, audible
 
 222 SAMOR, LORD OF [fiOOK VIII. 
 
 As in thick forest the lone woodman's axe. 
 
 Twas strange, yet slack'd not that old reverend Man 
 
 His upward step, as though the mountain air 171 
 
 Were his peculiar element, still his breath 
 
 Respir'd unlabouring, lively bounded on 
 
 His limbs, late slow and tremulous. Three long hours, 
 
 Now front to front upon that topmost peak, 1 75 
 
 Erwydfa, sit they motionless, alone : 
 
 As when two vultures on some broken tower, 
 
 That beetles o'er a dismal battle field, 
 
 In dark and greedy patience ruminate 
 
 Their evening feast, a stillness as of sleep 180 
 
 Heaves in their ruffled plumes, their deep bright eyes 
 
 Half closM in languid rest ; so undisturbed, 
 
 So lofty, sate the Avenger and the Seer. 
 
 The atmosphere, that palls our restless world, 
 
 Lay coiling in its murky folds below : 185 
 
 So in some regal theatre, when droops 
 
 The unfolding curtain, and within it shrouds 
 
 The high disastrous passions, crimes, and woes 
 
 Erewhile that fretted on its pomp of scene ; 
 
 Thus Earth, with all its solemn tragedies, . 190
 
 BOOK VIII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 223 
 
 Heroic vauntings, sumptuous imagings, 
 
 Set in its veil of darkness from their sight. 
 
 The filmless, the pellucid heaven above 
 
 One broad pure sheet of sunlight. " Gifted Man, 
 
 (Cried Samor,) wherefore to this desolate 195 
 
 Untrodden ! w " Ha ! untrodden ! know ye not, 
 
 Where coarse humanity defiles not, there 
 
 The snowy-footed Angels lightly skim 
 
 The taintless soil, the fragrance of their plumes 
 
 Fans the pure air where chokes no breath of sin 200 
 
 The limpid current ? Desolate ! the motes 
 
 That flicker in the sun are few and rare 
 
 To the immortal faces that smile down 
 
 Exquisite transport on the ravish'd sense. 
 
 Here, from their kindred elements, emanate 205 
 
 The festive creatures of the heavenly fields, 
 
 Glories, and Mercies, and Beatitudes 
 
 Some dropping on the silent summer dews, 
 
 Some trembling on the rainbow's violet verge, 
 
 Some rarely charioteering on the wings 210 
 
 Of the mild winds, in moonlight some. Why shakes 
 
 The Man of Vengeance ? wherefore of mine hand
 
 224 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VIII. 
 
 This passionate wringing ?" " Tell me, truely tell ; 
 
 The name of Emeric, from some mild-lipp'd tone 
 
 Hath it e'er trembled on thine ear ? Old Man, 215 
 
 Is't sin to say her presence might adorn 
 
 That gentle company ?" " To souls like thine, 
 
 Warrior, Heaven grants sweet intercourse and free 
 
 With its beatified.' 1 " Ah, now thou rak'st 
 
 The ashes of a buried grief : gone all, 220 
 
 My gentle visitations broken off, 
 
 My delicate discoursings silent, ceas'd ! 
 
 Oh, I talk idly, Prophet, speak thou on." 
 
 " Aye, Warrior, and of mild and soft no more ; 
 Grandeurs there are, to which the gates of heaven 225 
 Set wide their burnish'd portals : midnight feels 
 Cherubic splendours ranging her dun gloom, 
 The tempests are ennobled by the state 
 Of high seraphic motion. I have seen, 
 I, Merlin, have beheld. It stood in light, 230 
 
 It spake in sounds for earth's gross winds too pure. 
 Between the midnight and the morn 'twas here 
 I lay, I know not if I slept or woke, 
 Yet mine eyes saw. Long, long this heart had yearn'd,
 
 BOOK VIII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 225 
 
 'Mid those rich passings and majestic shows 235 
 
 For shape distinct, and palpable clear sound. 
 It burst at length, yea, front to front it stood, 
 The Immortal Presence. I clench'd up the dust 
 In the agony and rapture of my fear, 
 And my soul wept with terror and deep joy. 240 
 
 It stood upon the winds, an Angel plumed, 
 And maiTd and crown'd ; his plumes cast forth a tinge 
 Like blood on th 1 air around : his arms, in shape 
 Etherial panoply complete, in hue 
 The moonlight on the dark Llanberis lake, 245 
 
 A bright blue rippling glitter ; for the crown, 
 Palm leaves of orient light his brow enwreathM, 
 That bloomM in fair divinity of wrath, 
 And beautiful relentlessness austere. 
 Knowledge was in my heart, and on my lips ; 250 
 
 I felt him, who he was. " Archangel ! hail, 
 Destroyer ! art not thou God's Delegate, 
 To break the glassy glories of this world ? 
 The gem-knosp'd diadem, the ivory ball, 
 Sceptre and sword, imperial mantle broad, 255 
 
 The Lord of Nations, Thundershaft of war, 
 
 Q
 
 226 SAMOR, LORD OF [fiOOK VIII. 
 
 Are glorious on the pale submissive earth : 
 
 Thou com'st, and lo, for throne, for sword, for king, 
 
 Bare ashes and thin dust. Thou art, that aye 
 
 The rich-tower'd cities smoulder 'st to pale heaps 260 
 
 Of lazy moss-stones, and aye after thee 
 
 Hoots Desolation like a dank-winged owl 
 
 Upon the marble palaces of Kings. 
 
 Thou wert, when old Assyrian Nineveh 
 
 Sank to a pool of waters, waste and foul ; 265 
 
 Thou, when the Median's brow the massy tiar 
 
 Let fall, and when the Grecian's brazen throne 
 
 Sever'd and split to the four winds ; and now 
 
 Consummatest thy work of wreck and scorn, 
 
 Even on Rome's Caesars, making the earth sick 2/0 
 
 Of its own hollowness. Archangel ! Hail, 
 
 Vicegerent of destruction ! Cupbearer, 
 
 That pour'st the bitter liquor of Heaven's wrath, 
 
 A lamentable homage pay I thee, 
 
 And sue thee tell if Britain's days are full, 275 
 
 Her lips for thy sad beverage ripe. Thereat 
 
 Earthward his sunny spear its lurid point 
 
 Declin'd, and lo, a White Horse, through the land
 
 BOOK VIII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 227 
 
 Ranging in stately speed ; our city gates 
 
 Shrunk open at his coming, our fair fields 280 
 
 Withered before him, so his fiery breath 
 
 Flar'd broad amazement through the gasping land. 
 
 Triumph was in the trampling of his feet, 
 
 And the strong joy of mockery, for he trod 
 
 On broken principalities ; his mane 285 
 
 Familiar Conquest, as a rushing wind;, 
 
 Fann'd in loose brilliant streamings."" False-lipp'd Seer, 
 
 Thou spak'st of gladness, and thy ominous tone 
 
 Is darkness and dismay." " Hark, Warrior, hark : 
 
 That wanton mane was trailed down to the dust, 290 
 
 That fiery trampling falter'd to dull dread, 
 
 That pale victorious steed Thee, Thee I saw, 
 
 Visible as thou stand'st, with mastering arm 
 
 Drag down, and on his strong and baffled neck 
 
 Full trod thy iron-sandal'd heel. The sight 295 
 
 Was wine unto my soul, and I laugh'd out, 
 
 And mock'd the ruinous Seraph in the clouds. 
 
 " Yet stood he in the quiet of his wrath, 
 Angelic Expectation, that awaits 
 Calmly till God accomplish God's high will, 300
 
 228 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VIII. 
 
 Full on his brow. Then stoop'd the spear again, 
 
 And lo, Seven Steeds, like that pale One, bestrode 
 
 The patient Isle, and they that on them rode 
 
 Wore diadem and regal pall ; then rose 
 
 To war against those royal riders fierce, 305 
 
 From a round table, Knights in sunlike arms, 
 
 Shields bossy with rich impress quaint, and fair 
 
 Their coursers, as the fire-hoord steeds of Morn. 
 
 To white-arm d Ladies in a stately court 
 
 Bards hymn'd the deeds of that fine chivalry, 310 
 
 And their crowned Captain's title smote mine ear, 
 
 * Arthur of Bretagne. 1 Years went rolling on, 
 
 Cloudy, discordant, and tempestuous years, 
 
 For the sword reap'd the harvest of the land, 
 
 And battle was the may-game of her sons. 315 
 
 And lo, a Raven o^er the Eastern sea 
 
 Swoop'd desolation on the Isle ; her wings 
 
 Blasted wheree'er they wav'd, the earth wept blood 
 
 In her foul talons gripe. But he that rode 
 
 On the White Steed, the Sovereign of the Land, 320 
 
 (Patience, Avenger, patience j) fair was he 
 
 That Sovereign, as the virgin's spring-tide dream.
 
 BOOK VIII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. ' 229 
 
 Holy as new anointed Christian Priest, 
 
 Valiant as warrior burnished for the fight, 
 
 Fond and extatic, as love-dreaming Bard, 325 
 
 Solemn and wise, as old Philosopher, 
 
 Stately as kingborn lion in the wood ; 
 
 As he his fine face heavenward turned in prayer, 
 
 The Angels bent down from their throning clouds, 
 
 To wonder at that admirable King, 330 
 
 Sky-wandering voices peal'd in transport out 
 
 c Alfred ! ' the baffled Raven cowered aloof, 
 
 The isle look'd up to heaven in peace and joy. 
 
 " Still stood he there, betwixt me and the sun, 
 Th' Archangel ; not in sleep, nor senselessness 335 
 
 Absorbed, but terrible inaction spread 
 Over his innate menace. Oh, I strove, 
 Yet dared not hope the dregs of wrath were drained, 
 The mission of dismay fulfilled and done; 
 Yet had those wings of fatal hue drooped down 340 
 In folded motionlessness, wreathy light 
 Had crept and wound around that dusky spea^ 
 Silvering its perilous darkness. Dropt at once 
 That tender light away ; at once those wings 
 Started asunder, and spread wide and red 345
 
 230 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VIII. 
 
 The rain of desolation, thicker rolTd 
 
 The pedestal of clouds whereon he stood, 
 
 As to bear up the effort of his wrath. 
 
 Again the Eastern Ravern snuff 'd our air, 
 
 The frantic White Horse laved his hoofs in blood, 350 
 
 Till from the Southern Continent sprung forth 
 
 A Leopard, on the ocean shore he ramp'd. 
 
 Woe to the White Horse, to the Raven woe, 
 
 Woe for the title of the Leopard Lord, 
 
 The Conqueror ! and a Bell I heard, that sway'd 355 
 
 Along the isle, and froze it into peace 
 
 With its majestic tyranny of sound. 
 
 " But he, upon the* air, th' Archangel, he, 
 The summons of whose eye from climes remote 
 Beckon'd those grisly ministers of wrath, 360 
 
 Northward he look'd, no northern ruin came. 
 To th' East, there all was still. The South, nor shape 
 Nor sound. The West, calm stretched th' unruffled sea. 
 Ha ! thought I, earth hath now no ruin more, 
 The race of havoc is extinct for us, 665 
 
 Angel of wreck away ! thy task is o'er ; 
 Majestic Mischief, from our isle away ! 
 He went not ; as an earthquake's second shock,
 
 BOOK VIII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 231 
 
 With dreary longing watch'd I what might come ; 
 
 Moments were years ; and lo, the Island's sons 370 
 
 Nor Briton they, nor Saxon, nor the stock 
 
 Of those new comers, but from each had flow'd 
 
 All qualities of honour and renown, 
 
 The foul dishonest dregs had fum'd away, 
 
 And the rich quintessence, unmix'd, unsoiFd, 375 
 
 An harmony of energies sublime, 
 
 Knit in that high-brow'd people. Courtesy, 
 
 Death-scorning valour, Fame's immortal thirst, 
 
 And honour inbreathed like the life of life. 
 
 Then rose that strong Archangel, and he smote 380 
 The bosom of the land ; at once leap'd up 
 That mighty people. Here a Snow-white Rose, 
 And there a Red, with fatal blossoming, 
 And deadly fragrance, maddening all the land. 
 I heard, I saw ah, impious sights and sounds ! 385 
 Two war-cries in one tongue, two banner-rolls 
 Wov'n in one loom, two lances from one forge, 
 Two children from one womb in conflict met ; 
 "Gainst brother brother's blood cried out to heaven, 
 And he that rent the vizor of his foe, 590
 
 232 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VIII. 
 
 Look'd through the shattered bars, and saw his son. 
 Ha, Britain ! in thine entrails dost thou flesh 
 Thy ravine ! thy Baronial castles blaze 
 With firebrands from their hospitable hearths. 
 
 " Mercy ," I cried aloud, " thou Merciless ! 395 
 
 Destroy no more, Destroyer ! Prone I fell, 
 And hid mine aching eyes deep in the dust ; 
 So from my rocking memory to shut out 
 Those wars unnatural. Passed a sound at length 
 As of a Wild Boar hunted to his death ; 400 
 
 I rais'd mine head, still there the Archangel stood ; 
 Another pause, another gleam of hope ; 
 But in that quiet interval me-seem'd 
 Trumpetings as of victory from the sea, 
 Flow'd o n er the Isle, and glories beam'd abroad 405 
 From a triumphant throne, where sate elate 
 A Virgin : all around her Poets harps 
 Strew'd flowers of amaranth blooming ; and methought 
 Was joy and solemn welcoming in heaven 
 Of a pure incense, that from all the Isle 410 
 
 Soared to the unapproached throne of God. 
 
 " Then saw I through the Isle, a River broad
 
 BOOK VIII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 233 
 
 And full, and they that drank thereof look'd up 
 
 Like children dropt forth from a nobler world, 
 
 So powerful that proud water work'd within, , 415 
 
 Freshening the body and the soul : and each 
 
 Beauty array'd and a frank simple strength. 
 
 The river's name was Freedom : her fair tide 
 
 So pleasant thralTd mine eye, I saw not rise 
 
 TV Archangel's spear : th' earth's reeling woke me then, 
 
 For lo, upon a throne, a gallant Prince, 421 
 
 That with misguided sceptre strove to check 
 
 That powerful stream : whereat the rebel tide 
 
 Swell'd up with indignation, and aloof 
 
 Stood gathering its high-cresting waves ; down came 425 
 
 The deluge, that fair throne, and all its strong 
 
 Nobility of pillars, with a crash 
 
 Came to the earth, while they that drank rush'd out 
 
 Inebriate with excess of that fierce stream, 
 
 And cast a bloody sacrifice, that head 430 
 
 Endiadem'd with royalty, to glut 
 
 The tide implacable. 'Tis sad to hear, 
 
 Aye Samor, what was it to see ! Brave Chief, 
 
 Cold winter leads the pleasant summer on,
 
 234 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VIII. 
 
 The night must darken ere the morning dawn ; 435 
 
 The summer came, the morning dawn'd, I saw 
 
 The arch'd heavens open o'er the angelic shape, 
 
 And upward like a cloud he mingled in 
 
 To the sky^s cloudiness. I cried aloud 
 
 * For ever P the close settling in the heaven 440 
 
 Seem'd to reply ' For ever.' Not with him 
 
 Pass'd off my vision fair. Another throne 
 
 Stood by the venturous margin of that stream ; 
 
 Then merriment, and loose-harped wantonness 
 
 Smooth'd the late ruffled air ; immodest tones, 415 
 
 To which fair forms in dancing motion swam : 
 
 They paus'd, then dark around that throne it seem'd, 
 
 Whereat those holy hymns that scarce had ceas'd 
 
 To float up in their airy-winged course, 
 
 In faintness 'gan to tremble and break off; 450 
 
 That stream again upgather'd its wak'd wrath, 
 
 And foamy menace. When behold, a fleet 
 
 Came tilting o'er the ocean waves, and cast 
 
 A Lady and a Warrior on the shore, 
 
 And kingly crowns around their brows august 455 
 
 Out blossom'd ; on the throne they took their seat,
 
 BOOK VIII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 234 
 
 SoarM gladness on the wings of those pure hymns, 
 
 And the majestic stream in sunlight flow 
 
 And full rejoicing murmur, all its waves 
 
 Wafted around the high and steady throne. 460 
 
 Now listen with thy soul, not with thine ears, 
 Briton ! beside that stream a Tree sprang out, 
 With ever-mounting height, and amplitude 
 Aye-spreading ; deep in earth its gnarled roots 
 Struck down, as though to strengthen this frail world : 
 Its crown amid the clouds seem'd soaring up 466 
 
 For calm above earth's tossing and rude stir, 
 And its broad branching spread so wide, its shade 
 Lay upon distant realms , one golden bright, 
 Close by the cradle of the infant sun, 470 
 
 And others in new western worlds remote ; 
 And from that mystic river, Freedom, flow'd 
 A moisture like the sap of life, that fed 
 And fertilized the spacious Tree ; the gales 
 Of ocean with a gorgeous freshness flush'd 475 
 
 The beauty of its foliage. Blossoms rare 
 Were on it ; holy deeds, that in the airs 
 Of heaven delicious smelt, and fruits on earth
 
 236 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VIII. 
 
 Shower'd from it, making its sad visage smile, 
 
 For life and hope and bliss was in their taste. 480 
 
 Amid the state of boughs twin Eagles hung 
 
 Their eyries, Victory and Renown, and swung 
 
 In rapturous sport with the tumultuous winds, 
 
 But birds obscene, Dishonour, Shame, Dismay, 
 
 Scar'd by the light of the bright leaves, aloof 485 
 
 Far wheel'd their sullen flight, nor dar'd to stoop. 
 
 I saw the nations graft their wasted trunks 
 
 From those broad boughs of beauty and of strength, 
 
 And dip their drain'd urns in that sacred stream. 
 
 But in the deep peculiar shade there stood 490 
 
 A Throne, an Altar, and a Senate-house. 
 
 Upon the throne a King sate, triple-crowned 
 
 As by three kingdoms ; voices eloquent 
 
 In harmony of discord fulminYl forth 
 
 From that wise Senate : in swift intercourse 495 
 
 To and fro from heaven's crystal battlements 
 
 To that pure altar Angels stoop'd their flight. 
 
 And through the sunny boughs Philosophers 
 
 Held commerce with the skies, and drew from thence 
 
 The stars to suffer thc-ir sage scrutiny ; 500
 
 BOOK V1II.J THE BRIGHT CITY. 237 
 
 And Poets sent up through the bowery vault 
 Such lavish harmonies, the charm'd air seem'd 
 Forgetful of its twinkling motion dim. 
 
 " Oh, admirable Tree ! thou shalt not fall 
 By foreign axe, or slow decay within ! 505 
 
 The tempests strengthen thee, the summer airs 
 Corrupt not, but adorn. Until that tide, 
 Freedom, the Inexhaustible, exhaust, 
 Lives thy coeval Immortality." 
 
 The Prophet ceasM: still Samor on his face, 510 
 That in solemnity of firm appeal 
 Look'd heavenward, with a passionate belief 
 Gaz'd, and a glad abandonment. " Ha, Seer, 
 But now when thou begann'st 'twas noon of day, 
 And now deep night. Yea, Merlin, and by night 515 
 The Tamer of the White Steed must go forge 
 His iron curb." Forth like a cataract 
 He burst, and bounded down the mountain side. 
 " Yet once again, tumultuous world, I plunge 
 Amid thy mad abyss ; thou proud and fierce, 520 
 
 I come to break and tame thee ! see ye not, 
 Wise Hengist ! strong Caswallon ! how the sand
 
 238 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VIII. 
 
 Is under your high towering thrones, the worm 
 
 Is in your showy palms." And then a pause 
 
 Of tumult and proud trembling in his soul, 525 
 
 And, " False it was not, but a gleam vouchsaf d 
 
 From the eternal orb of truth, the sense 
 
 That inbred and ingrain'd with my soul's life, 
 
 Hath made of Britain to this leaping heart 
 
 A sound not merely of deep love, but pride 530 
 
 Intense, and inborn majesty. I feel, 
 
 And from my earliest consciousness have felt, 
 
 That in the wide hereafter, where old Fate 
 
 Broods o'er the unravelling web of human things, 
 
 Wov'n by the Almighty, spreads thy tissue broad 535 
 
 In light, among the dark and mazy threads ; 
 
 Vicissitude or mutability 
 
 Quench not its desolate lustre, on it winds 
 
 Unbroken, unat tain ted, unobscur'd." 
 
 So passed he, who had seen, him then had deem'd, 540 
 
 By the proud steedlike tossing of his crest, 
 
 His motion like the uncheck'd August sun 
 
 Travelling the cloudless vacancy of air, 
 
 A monarch for his summer pastime gone
 
 BOOK VIII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 239 
 
 Into the shady grove, with courtier train, 545 
 
 And plumed steed, and laden sumpter mule, 
 
 Cool canopy, and velvet carpeting. 
 
 But he beneath the sleety winter sky, 
 
 Even his hard arms bit into by the keen 
 
 And searching airs, houseless, by hazard found 550 
 
 His coarse irregular fare, his drink, the ice 
 
 Toilsomely broken from the stiff black pool. 
 
 The furr'd wolf in the mossy oaken trunk 
 
 Lapp'd himself from the beating snow, but on 
 
 Went Samor with unshivering naked foot ; 555 
 
 The tempest from the mountain side tore down 
 
 The pine, like a scath'd trophy casting it 
 
 To moulder in the vale, but Samor's brow 
 
 Fronted the rude sky ; the free torrent felt 
 
 The ice its rushing turbulence o'ergrow, 560 
 
 Translucent in its cold captivity 
 
 It hung, but Samor burst the invading frost 
 
 From the untamed waters of his soul, and flowM 
 
 Fetterless on his deep unfathom'd course. 
 
 And thou, wild Deva, how hast thou forgone 565 
 Thy summer music, and thy sunny play
 
 240 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VIII. 
 
 Of eddies whitening 'mid thy channel stones ; 
 Bard-belov'd river, on whose green-fringed brink 
 The fine imagining Grecian sure had feignM 
 Twixt thy smooth Naiads and the Sylvans rude 570 
 Of thy gray woods stol'n amorous intercourse ; 
 With such a slow reluctance thou delay'st 
 Under the dipping branches, that flap up 
 With every shifting motion of the wind, 
 Thy limpid moisture, and with serpent coil 575 
 
 Dost seem as thou would'st mingle with thyself 
 To wander o'er again the same lov'd course. 
 Now lies thy ice-bound bosom mute and flat 
 As marble pavement, thy overshadowing woods 
 One bare, brown leaflessness, that faintly drop 580 
 
 At intervals the heavy icicles, 
 Like tears upon a monumental stone. 
 But though thy merry waters and brisk leaves 
 Are silent, with their close-couch'd birds of song, 
 Even in this blank dead season music loves 585 
 
 Thy banks, and sounds harmonious must be heard 
 Even o'er thy frozen waters. 'Twas an hymn 
 From a low chapel by the river side,
 
 BOOK VIII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 241 
 
 Came struggling through the thick and hazy air, 
 And made a gushing as of tears flow o'er 590 
 
 The Wanderer's soul ; the form winds could not bow 
 Nor crazing tempests, those soft sounds amate ; 
 Those dews of music melt into the frame 
 Of adamant, proof against the parching frost. 
 
 Under the porch he glided in, and knelt 595 
 
 Unnotic'd in the throng : whose motion sway'd 
 The beasts of ravine, he before his God 
 Wore nought distinctive, save of those bruis'd reeds^ 
 Was he the sorest bruis'd, and deepest seem'd 
 The full devotion settling round his heart 600 
 
 More musical than the music on that soul, 
 So long inured to things tumultuous, sights 
 Rugged and strange, and hurrying and distract, 
 Came the sensation of a face belov'd. 
 The calm of that old reverend brow, the glow 605 
 
 Of its thin silver locks, was like a flash 
 Of sunlight in the pauses of a storm. 
 Now hath the white-stoPd Bishop lifted up 
 His arms, his parting benison descends 
 Like summer rain upon his flock. Whose ear, 610
 
 242 SAMOR, LORD OF [flOOK VIII. 
 
 Oh, holy Germain, felt thy gentle tones 
 
 As Samor's ? ah, when last thy saintly brow 
 
 For him look'd heavenward, and less tremulous then 
 
 Thy voice on him breath'd blessing, 'twas in times 
 
 Far brighter, at that jocund bridal hour 615 
 
 When Emeric, rosy between shame and joy, 
 
 Stood with him by the altar side : " Thus live 
 
 In love till life's departure ;" Such thy prayer, 
 
 Ah, words how vain ! sweet blessings unenjoy'd ! 
 
 The throng hath parted ; in the House of God 620 
 Still knelt the armed man ; with pressure strong 
 He clasp'd old Germain's hand " Good Bishop, thou 
 Art skill'd in balancing our earthly sins, 
 I was a man, whose high ambitious head 
 Was among God's bright stars ; I deem'd of earth, 625 
 As of a place whose dust my feet shook off 
 With an heaven-gifted scorn, so far, so high 
 Seeni'd I above its tainting elevate, 
 At midnight, on my slumber came the sin, 
 I will not say how exquisite and fair, 630 
 
 Mine eyelids sprung apart to drink it in, 
 My soul leap'd up to clasp it, and the folds
 
 BOOK VIII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 243 
 
 Of passion, like a fiery robe, wrapt in 
 
 My nature ; I had fall'n, but bounteous Heaven 
 
 Of its most blest permitted one t' extend 635 
 
 A snow-white arm of rescue." " The hot tears 
 
 Corrode and fret the warrior's brazen helm ; 
 
 I will not ask thee if thine outward eyes, 
 
 Hath thy soul wept? ' " Aye, Bishop, tears of blood ; 
 
 Sorrow and shame weighed down my nerveless arm, 640 
 
 And clipped th' aspiring plumage of my soul ; 
 
 t 
 
 From out mine own heart scorn hiss'd at me." " Well, 
 Strong Man of arms, hast fought the inward fight, 
 And God remit thy sins, as I remit." 
 
 " Then take thou to thine arms thy ancient friend." 645 
 So saying, uprose Samor, like a star 
 Out of the ocean, shining his bright face 
 With the pure dews of penitence. But he, 
 The old man, fell upon his neck and wept, 
 As though th' endearing name, my Son, were voic'd 650 
 By nature, not by saintly use, a sound 
 Not of the lips, but th' overflowing heart. 
 
 Theirls was a broken conference, drear thoughts- 
 Of anguish, desolation, and despair,
 
 244 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VIII. 
 
 So moulded up with recollections sweet, 655 
 
 They made the sunken visage smile through tears ; 
 
 A few fair roses shed on a brown heath, 
 
 A little honey in deep cups of gall : 
 
 Light bridal airs broke in upon by sounds 
 
 Funereal, shouts of triumph languishing 660 
 
 To the faint shriek of agony, direness forc'd 
 
 Into the fresh bowers of delight, and death, 
 
 Th' unjoyous, in the laughing feast of joy. 
 
 'Tis th 1 one poor luxury the wretched have 
 To speak of wretchedness yet brief their speech, 665 
 " Vengeance and vigilance," the stern adieu 
 Even in that hoary Bishop's ear, he went. 
 
 But by the Bishop's side, just there where knelt 
 Th' Avenger, a new form : 'twas man in garb, 
 But the thin fringing of the humid eye, 670 
 
 The delicate wanderings of the rosy veins, 
 The round full alabaster of the skin, 
 The briefness of the modest sliding step, 
 Something of womanly composure smooth, 
 Even in the close and girt habiliments, 675 
 
 Belied the stern appearance. " Priest, with him
 
 BOOK VIII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 245 
 
 But now who parted, is my soul allied 
 
 In secret, close society ; his faith 
 
 Must be my faith, his God my God."" Fair youth, 
 
 I question not by what imperious tie <J80 
 
 Of admiration or strong love thou'rt led ; 
 
 For as the Heavens with silent power intense 
 
 Draw upward the light mists and fogs of earth, 
 
 And steeping them in glory, hang them forth 
 
 Fresh, renovate, and radiant ; virtue holds 685 
 
 The like attractive influence, to her trains 
 
 Souls light and clayey-tincturM, till they catch 
 
 The fair contagion of her beauty, beam 
 
 With her imparted light. Hear, heathen youth, 
 
 Hear and believe." As when beneath the nave 690 
 
 Tall arching, the Cathedral organ 'gins 
 
 Its prelude, lingeringly exquisite 
 
 Within retir'd the bashful sweetness dwells, 
 
 Anon like sunlight, or the floodgate rush 
 
 Of waters, bursts it forth, clear, solemn, full ; 695 
 
 It breaks upon the mazy fretted roof, 
 
 It coils up round the clustering pillars tall, 
 
 It leaps into the cell-like chapels, strikes
 
 246 SAMOR, LORD OP [_BOOK VIII. 
 
 Beneath the pavement sepulchres, at once 
 The living temple is instinct, ablaze 700 
 
 With the uncontrolled exuberance of sound. 
 Even so with smoothing gentleness began 
 The mitred Preacher, winning audience close : 
 Till rising up, the rapid argument 
 Soar'd to the Empyrean, linking earth 706 
 
 With heaven by golden chains of eloquence ; 
 Till the mind, all its faculties and powers 
 Lay floating, self-surrender'd in the deep 
 Of admiration. Wondrous 'twas to see, 
 With the transitions of the Holy Creed, 710 
 
 The workings of that regular bright face : 
 Now ashy blank, now glittering bright, now dew'd 
 With fast sad tears, now with a weeping smile, 
 Now heavy with drooped eyelids, open now 
 With forehead arch'd in rapture ; 'till at last J15 
 
 Ensued a gasping listening without breath. 
 
 But as the voice severe wound up the strain, 
 
 And from the heavenly history to enforce 
 
 The everlasting moral, 'gan extort 
 
 From the noviciate in the jealous faith 720
 
 BOOK VIII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 247 
 
 Passionless purity, and life sincere 
 
 From all the soft indulgences of sin ; 
 
 Forbidden in the secret heart to shrine 
 
 A dear unlawful image, to reserve 
 
 A sad and narrow sanctuary for desire : 725 
 
 Then stood in speechlessness, yet suppliant, 
 
 With snowy arms outstretch'd, and quivering loose, 
 
 The veiling mantle thrown in anguish back, 
 
 Confest the Woman : starting from their band, 
 
 Like golden waters o'er a marble bed, 730 
 
 Flow'd out her long locks o'er her half-bare neck. 
 
 " To tell me that in such cold solemn tones, 
 All, all unwelcome, bitter as it is, 
 I must believe, for its oppressive truth 
 Loads on my soul, and he believes it all. 735 
 
 To tell it me here, here, where all around 
 Linger his vestiges, where the warm air 
 Yet hath the motion of his breath, the sound 
 Of his departing footsteps beating yet 
 Upon my heart. Long sought ! and found in vain ! 740 
 In sunshine have I sought thee and in shade, 
 O'er mountain have I track'd tbee, and through vale,
 
 248 SAMOR, LORD OF [fiOOK VIII. 
 
 The clouds have wrapp'd thee, but I lost thee not, 
 
 The torrents drown 'd thy track, but not from me, 
 
 I dared not meet thee, but I sought thee still ; 745 
 
 To me forbid, alone to me, what all 
 
 The coarse and common things of nature may ; 
 
 The airs of heaven may touch thee, I may not, 
 
 All human eyes behold thee ah" but mine ; 
 
 And thou, the senseless, enviable dust 750 
 
 May'st cherish the round traces of his limbs, 
 
 His fresh fair image must away from me. 
 
 Oh, that I were the dust whereon thou tread'st, 
 
 Even though I felt thee not !" And is this she, 
 
 The Virgin of the festal hall, who won 755 
 
 A kingdom for a smile, nor deign'd regard 
 
 Its winning, and who stoop'd to be a Queen ? 
 
 And is this she, whose coming on the earth 
 
 Was like the Morn in her impearled car, 
 
 Loftiest or loveliest which, 'twere bold to say ? 760 
 
 She whose enamouring scorn fell luxury-like 
 
 On her beholders, who seenTd glad to shrink 
 
 Beneath the wreath'd contempt of her full lip? 
 
 This she, the Lady of the summer bark,
 
 BOOK VIII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 249 
 
 To whom the sunshine and the airs, and all 765 
 
 Th' inconstant waters play'd the courtier smooth, 
 
 That cast a human feeling of delight 
 
 At her bewitching presence o'er the blind 
 
 Unconscious forms of nature ? Is this she ! 
 
 Those rich lips, for a monarch's banquet meet, 770 
 
 Visiting the dust with frantic kiss, thus low, 
 
 Thus desolate, thus fallen, of her fall 
 
 Careless, so deep in shame, yet unashamed ! 
 
 But thou, Heaven reconciled, on earth the seal'd, 
 The anointed by the prophet's gladdening oils, 775 
 
 God's instrument, hath midnight now resum'd 
 Its spirit-wafting function ? Emeric, she 
 On earth so mild, in her had anger seem'd 
 Unnatural as a war-song on a lute, 
 
 As blood upon the pinion of a dove. 780 
 
 In heaven hath she her heavenly qualities 
 Unlearnt ? is she the angel now in all 
 But its best part, forgiveness ? Can it be 
 Th' ungentle North, the bleak and snowy air 
 Estrange her now ? those elements of earth 785 
 
 But tyrannize beneath the moon, the stars
 
 250 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VIII. 
 
 And spirits in their nature privileg'd 
 
 From heat and cold, from fevering and from frost, 
 
 Their pure and constant temperament maintain, 
 
 Glide through the storm serene, and rosy warm 790 
 
 Rove the frore winter air. Are sounds abroad, 
 
 That Samor from his mossy pillow, stretched 
 
 Under the oak, uplifts his head, and then 
 
 Like one bliss-overcome, subsides again ? 
 
 Half sleep, half sense he lies,/ his nuptial hymn, 795 
 
 Articulate each gay and dancing word, 
 
 Distinct each delicate and dwelling fall, 
 
 Is somewhere in the air about him ; looks 
 
 Are on him of a bashful eye, too fond 
 
 To turn away, too timorous to fix 800 
 
 And rest unwavering. All the marriage rite 
 
 Is acting now anew ; the sunlight falls 
 
 Upon the gold-claspM book of prayer, as then 
 
 It fell, and Germain speaks as Germain spake ; 
 
 - 'i A . . k * ,rr 
 
 And Emeric, on her cheek the tear is there, 805 
 
 Where then it hung in lucid trembling bright ; 
 The very fluttering of her yielded hand, 
 When gliding up her finger small, the ring
 
 BOOK VIII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 251 
 
 Made her his own for ever, throbs again 
 
 Upon his sensitive touch. He dares not move 810 
 
 Lest he should break the lovely bubble frail, 
 
 His tranc'd eyes stir not, lest they rove away 
 
 From that delicious sight, his open hand 
 
 Lies pulseless, lest the slightest change disturb 
 
 That exquisite sensation, so he lies, 815 
 
 Knowing all false, yet feeling all as true. 
 
 And it was false, yet why ? that is indeed, 
 Which is to sense and sight. Ah, well beseems 
 Us, the strong insects of an April morn, 
 Steady and constant as the thistle's down 820 
 
 When winds are on it, lasting as the flake 
 Of spring snow on the warm and grassy ground, 
 Well beseems us, ourselves, our forms, our lives, 1 
 The earth we tread on, and the air we breathe, 
 The light and glassy peopling of a dream, 825 
 
 T' arraign our visions for their perishing, 
 And on their unreality to rail, 
 Ungrateful to the illusion, that deceives 
 To rapture, and unwise, to cast away 
 Sweet flowers because they are not amaranth. 830
 
 252 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK VIII. 
 
 Thou, Samor, nor ungrateful nor unwise, 
 That, 'scaping from this cold and dark below, 
 Dost spread thee out for thy peculiar joy 
 A land of fair imaginings, with shapes, 
 And sounds, and motions, and sweet stillnesses, 835 
 Dost give up all die moon beholds to woe 
 And tumult, but in some far quiet sphere 
 Findest thyself a pure companionship 
 With spirits thou did'st love, and who lov'd thee 
 While passionate and earthly sense was theirs. 840
 
 BOOK IX.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 253 
 
 BOOK IX. 
 
 WHO tracks the ship along the sea of storms ? 
 
 Who through the dark haste of the wintry clouds 
 
 Pierceth to where the planet in retired 
 
 And constant motion the blue arch of heaven 
 
 Traverseth ? Sometimes on the mountain top 5 
 
 Of some huge wave the reappearing bark 
 
 Takes its high stand with pennon fluttering far 
 
 And cautious sail half fuiTd, yet eminent 
 
 As of th' assaulting element in disdain. 
 
 Sometimes amid' the darkness falling off, 10 
 
 And scattering from its crystal sphere away, 
 
 Bursts out the argent orb refresh'd, and shews 
 
 Its lamp unquenchable. Thou voyager 
 
 'Mid the rude waves of desolation, Star 
 
 Of Britain's gloomy night, so bafflest thou 1 5
 
 254 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IX. 
 
 My swift poetic vision ! now the waves 
 
 Ride o'er thee, now the clouds devour thee up, 
 
 And thou art lost to sight, and dare I say 
 
 Lost to thy immortality of song. 
 
 Thee too anon I see emerging proud 20 
 
 From the dusk billows of calamity, 
 
 That swoln and haughty from the recent wreck 
 
 Of thy compatriot navy, thee assail 
 
 With their accumulated weight of surge. 
 
 Thou top'st some high-brow'd wave, and shaking off 25 
 
 On either side their fury, brandishest 
 
 Thy solitary banner. Thee I see, 
 
 Within th' embosoming midnight of the land, 
 
 On gliding with smooth motion undisturb'd, 
 
 And through the glimpses of the breaking gloom, 30 
 
 Sometimes a solemn beauty sheddest forth 
 
 On the distempered face of human things. 
 
 Full in the centre of Caer Ebranc * stood 
 A temple, by the August Severus reared 
 To Mavors the Implacable ; what time 35 
 
 That Caesar stoop'd his eagles on the wreck 
 
 * Y'ork.
 
 BOOK IX.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 255 
 
 Of British freedom, when the mountaineer, 
 
 The King of Morven, if old songs be sooth, 
 
 Fingal, from Carun's bloody flashing waves * 
 
 Shook the fled Roman on his new-built wall ; 40 
 
 And Ossian woke up on his hill of dreams, 
 
 And spread the glory of his song abroad, 
 
 To halo round his sceptred Hero's head. 
 
 But not the less his work of pride pursued 
 Th' imperial Roman ; up the pillars rose, 45 
 
 Slow lengthening out their long unbroken lines ; 
 In delicate solidity advanced, 
 And stately grace toward the sky, till met 
 By the light massiveness of roof, that sloped 
 Down on their flowery capitals. Nor knew 50 
 
 That man of purple and of diadem, 
 The Universal Architect at work, 
 Framing for him a narrow building dark, 
 The grave's lone building. Th' emperor and his bones 
 Into the blank of things forgot and past 55 
 
 Had mouldered, but this proud and 'during pile, 
 By wild weeds overgrown, by yellow hues 
 Of age deep tinted, still a triumph wrought 
 
 * Gibbon, ch. vi.
 
 256 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IX. 
 
 O'er time, and Christian disregard, and stood 
 
 As though to mock its Maker's perishing. 60 
 
 Upon the eastern pediment stood out 
 A fierce relief, where the tumultuous stone 
 Was nobly touch'd into a fit device 
 For th 1 immortal Homicide within : it showed 
 His coming on the earth ; the God had burst 65 
 
 The gates of Janus, that fell shattering back 
 Behind him, from the wall the rearing steeds 
 Sprung forth, and with their stony hoofs the air 
 Insulted. Them Bellona urg'd, abroad 
 Her snaky locks from her bare wrinkled brow 70 
 
 Went scattering ; forward th' haggard charioteer 
 Lean'd, following to the coursers reeking flanks 
 The furrowing scourge with all herself, and hung 
 Over their backs half fury, and half joy, 
 As though to listen to their bruising hoofs, 75 
 
 That trampled the thick massacre. Erect 
 Behind, with shield drawn in and forward spear, 
 The cori'd helm finely shaped to th' arching brow, 
 The God stood up within the car, that seem'd 
 To rush whenever the fleet wind swept by. 80
 
 BOOK IX.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 257 
 
 His brow was glory, and his arm was power, 
 
 And a smooth immortality of youth, 
 
 Like freshness from Elysium newly left, 
 
 Th 1 embalming of celestial airs inhal'd, 
 
 Touched with a beauty to be shudder'd at 85 
 
 His massy shape, a lightning-like fierce grace, 
 
 That makes itself admired, whilst it destroys. 
 
 There on a throne, fronting the morning sun, 
 Caswallon sate ; his sceptre a bright sword 
 Unsheathed ; with savage art had he broke up 90 
 
 His helmet to the likeness of a crown, 
 Thereon uncouthly set and clustering bright 
 Rich jewels glitter'd ; to his people rang'd 
 Upon the steps of marble sloping down, 
 Barbaric justice minist'ring he sate, 95 
 
 Expounding th' absolute law of his own will, 
 And from the abject at his feet received 
 Homage that seem'd like worship : not alone 
 From his wild people, but from lips baptized, 
 Came titles that might make the patient Heavens 1 00 
 Burst to the utterance of a laughing scorn ; 
 Might wake up from the bosom of the grave,
 
 258 SAMOIt, LORD OF [BOOK IX. 
 
 A bitter and compassionate contempt, 
 
 To hear the inheritance of her dull worms, 
 
 Nam'd in his dauntless and unblushing style, 105 
 
 " Unconquerable ! Omnipotent! Supreme !" 
 
 But all along the ranging column files, 
 And all abroad the turgid laudings spread, 
 " UnconquYable ! Omnipotent ! Supreme ! " 
 
 Yet he, the Stranger, whom Prince Malwyn leads, 1 1 
 He bows not, those hymn'd flatteries seem to jar 
 Upon his sense, so high his head he bears 
 Above them, like a man constrained to walk 
 Amid low tufts of poisonous herbs ; he fronts 
 The monarch, and thus 'gins his taunting strain : 115 
 " Unconqu'rable I whose conquering is the wolf's, 
 That when the shifting battle rages yet, 
 Steals to some desert corner of the field, 
 And riots on the spoils. Omnipotent ! 
 Aye, as a passive weapon, wielded now, 1 'JO 
 
 Now cast away contemptuous for the dust 
 To canker and to rust around. Supreme ! 
 O'er whom is Ruin on its vulture wings, 
 Scoffing the bubble whereupon thou rid'st,
 
 BOOK IX.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 259 
 
 And waiting Hengist's call to swoop and pierce 125 
 
 And dissipate its swoln and airy pride. 
 
 Whose diadem of glory, sword of power, 
 
 Yea, breath of life, at Hengist's way ward will, 
 
 Cling to thee, ready at his beck to fade, 
 
 And shiver and expire." " At Hengisfs call ! 130 
 
 At Hengist's beck ! at Hengist's ! " the word chok'd, 
 
 With eyes that dug into the Stranger's face, 
 
 Yet so by wrath bewilder'd, they had lost 
 
 Distinction, rose Caswallon. From the wall 
 
 A lance he seiz'd, huge as a pine-tree stem, 135 
 
 That on Blencathara stands sheer 'gainst heaven's storms : 
 
 Far o'er all heads a long and rapid flight 
 
 It cut along the air, till almost faiFd 
 
 The sight to track it to its ponderous fall. 
 
 Then taking on his throne his quiet seat, 140 
 
 " Back, back to Hengist, say ray lance flies thus, 
 
 Bid him o'ercast it, then come here again 
 
 To menace at Caswallon." " Soft and weak, 
 
 (Pursued the unwondering Stranger) know'st thou not, 
 
 There is a strength, that is not of the arm, 145 
 
 Nor standeth in the muscles sinewy play ?
 
 260 SA1HOR, LORD OF [BOOK IX 
 
 It striketh, but its striking is unseen, 
 
 It wieldeth, what it wieldeth seeming yet 
 
 Sway'd by its own free motion. King, I say, 
 
 Thou stepp'st not, speak'st not, but obedient still 150 
 
 To Hengist's empire, thou'rt a dog that hunts 
 
 But as thy master slips thee on his game, 
 
 A bridled steed that vaunteth as his own 
 
 His rider's prowess.' 1 " Hah ! I know thee now, 
 
 Insolent outcast, Samor I"" " And I thee, 155 
 
 Self-outcast, once a Briton oh thou fall'n 
 
 When most thou seem'st exalted, oh most base 
 
 When most ennobled, a most pitiful slave 
 
 When bearing thee most lordly ! Briton once, 
 
 Ay, every clod of earth that makes a part 1 60 
 
 Of this isle's round, each leaf of every tree, . QJ j i 
 
 And every wave of every streamlet brook, 
 
 Should look upon thee with a mother's glance, 
 
 And speak unto thee with a mother's voice. - r / 
 
 But thou, most impious and unnatural son, 165 
 
 Hast sold thy mother to the shame and curse j Jboimu*! 
 
 Of foreign lust, hast knit a league to rend 
 
 And sever her, most proud if some torn limb
 
 BOOK IX.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 261 
 
 Be cast thee for thy lot." Then rose again 
 
 Caswallon, from his brow the crown took off, 1 70 
 
 And placing it in Samor's hand " I read 
 
 Thy purpose, and there's fire in't, by my throne ! 
 
 Now, Samor, place that crown upon my head, 
 
 Do me thy homage, kneeling, as thy king, 
 
 And thou and I, we'll have a glorious tilt 1 75 
 
 At these proud Saxons. Turn not off; may boys 
 
 Gild their young javelins in Caswallon's blood, 
 
 And women pluck me by the beard, if e'er 
 
 On other terms I league with thee." The crown 
 
 Samor received, and Samor looked to heaven, 180 
 
 And Samor bow'd his knee, " Almighty God, 
 
 If thine eternal thunderbolts are yet 
 
 Unweary of their function dire, if earth 
 
 Yet, yet have not exhausted and consumed 
 
 Thy flame-wingM armoury of wrath, reserve 185 
 
 Some signal and particular revenge 
 
 For this man's head : so this foul earth shall learn, 
 
 Ere doomsday, that the sin, whose monstrous shape 
 
 Doth most offend thy nice and sensitive sight, 
 
 Is to bear arms against our native land. 190
 
 262 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IX. 
 
 Make thou of him a monumental ruin, 
 
 To publish in the ages long remote, 
 
 That sometimes is thy red right hand uplift 
 
 Against the living guilty. 1 ' And to earth, 
 
 Upleaping, Samor dash'd the crown ; the gems 195 
 
 Lay starry on the pavement white. On high 
 
 Caswallon the rear'd sword of justice swung, 
 
 Heavy with death, above th' Avenger's head. 
 
 But he " Caswallon, hold thine hand, here, here 
 
 Thy warrant for my safety, by thy son 200 
 
 A poniard given, upon his heart to wreak 
 
 All evil done myself." With bosom bare 
 
 Stood Malwyn by the Avenger's side. But he 
 
 Viewing that downy skin empurpled o'er 
 
 With youth's light colouring, and his constant mien, 205 
 
 Cast down the dagger, and " Fall what fall may, 
 
 Excellent boy, my hand shall still be white 
 
 From blood of thine." Like wild-boar in his rush 
 
 Baffled, or torrent-check'd, Caswallon paus'd 
 
 " Now, Christian, where learnt thou the art to wrest 2 1 
 
 My vengeance from me ? Go, go, I may strike 
 
 If the fit fire me. By Andraste, boy,
 
 BOOK IX.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 263 
 
 Boy Malwyn, there's thy father in thy blood. 
 
 Hah, Samor, thou hast 'scap'd me now, erewhile 
 
 I'll make a footstool of thy neck, to mount 215 
 
 On Britain's throne : alive or dead, 111 have 
 
 A knee as supple, and a front as low 
 
 From thee, as any of my milk-fed slaves : 
 
 Go, go." And Malwyn led the Avenger forth 
 
 Along the dull and sleepy shore of Ouse, 220 
 
 Till all Caer Ebranc's sounds flagg'd on his ear, 
 
 And all its towers had dwindled from his sight. 
 
 Ere parting, Malwyn clasp'd his hand, and tears 
 
 Hung in his eyelids. " Oh, thou know'st not yet 
 
 How Hengist sways my father's passive mind ; 225 
 
 My sister, my sweet Lilian, she whose sight 
 
 Made mine eyes tremble, whom I've stol'n to see, 
 
 Despite my father's stern command, asleep 
 
 With parted lips, and snowy breathing skin, 
 
 Scarce knew she me, her brother, her knew I 230 
 
 So only that my spirit yearn'd to mix 
 
 With hers in fondness, she, even she, the soft 
 
 The innocent, a wolf had lov'd her, she 
 
 Hath felt the drowning waters o'er her close,
 
 264 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IX. 
 
 Fair victim of an hellish sacrifice. 1 " 235 
 
 After a troubled silence, spake the Chief : 
 " Malwyn, my Christian pupil, God will give 
 The lov'd on earth another meeting place ; 
 Adieu, remember, Vengeance, Vigilance." 
 
 The spring had made an early effort faint, 240 
 
 T' encroach upon the Winter's ancient reign , 
 And she had lur'd forth from the glittering earth 
 The snowdrop and pale cowslip, th' elder tree 
 And hawthorn their green buds shot out, yet feared 
 T" entrust the rude air with their dainty folds. 245 
 
 A fresh green sparkled where the snow had been, 
 And here and there a bird on the bare spray 
 Warbled a timorous welcome, and the stream 
 Of Eamont, as rejoicing to be free, 
 Went laughing down its sunny silvering course. 250 
 
 The only wint'ry thing on Eamont's shore 
 Is human ; powerless are the airs that touch 
 To breathing and to kindling the dead earth, 
 Powerless the dewy trembling of the sun, 
 To melt around the heart of Vortimer 255 
 
 The snow that flakes and curdles there that bank,
 
 BOOK IX.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 265 
 
 That little bank of fair and cherish'd turf, 
 
 Whereon his head reclines, ah, doth not rest ! 
 
 By its round swelling, likest were a grave, 
 
 Save that 'twere brief and narrow for all else 260 
 
 But fairy, or those slender watery shapes 
 
 That dance beneath the stream. Yet there the Spring 
 
 Hath dropp'd her first, her tenderest bloom ; the airs 
 
 Find the first flowery odours on that spot ; 
 
 Cowslip is there and primrose faint and pale, 265 
 
 The daisy and the violet's blue eyes, 
 
 Peeping from out the shaking grass. The step 
 
 Of Samor wakens the pale slumberer there, 
 
 He lifts his lean hands up, and parts away 
 
 The matting hair from o'er his eyes, which look 2 JO 
 
 As though the painful sunlight wilder'd them, 
 
 With stony stare that saw not. Save that lay 
 
 A shepherd's wallet by his side, had seem'd 
 
 That foot of man ne'er ventur'd here ; all sounds 
 
 Were strange and foreign, save the pendant arms 275 
 
 Swinging above with heavy knolling sound. 
 
 But Samor's presence made a sudden break 
 
 Upon his miserable flow of thought ;
 
 266 SAMOR, LORD OF [fiOOK IX. 
 
 He motion'd first with bony arm, then spake. 
 " Away, away, thou'rt fearful, thoult disturb, 280 
 
 Away with thy arm'd head and iron heel, 
 She will not venture, while thy aspect fierce 
 Haunts hereabout, she cannot brook a sound, 
 Nor any thing that's rude, and dark, and harsh, 
 Nor any voice, nor any look but mine ; 285 
 
 She will not come up, if thou linger'st here ; 
 Hard and discourteous man, why seek to keep 
 My own, my buried from me ? why prevent 
 The smiling intercourse of those that love P" 
 " Sad man, what mean'st thou?" " Speak not, but 
 begone. 290 
 
 I tell thee, she's beneath, I laid her there, 
 And she'll come up to me, I know she will, 
 Trembling and slender, soft and rosy pale. 
 I know it, all things sound, and all things smile, 
 As when she wont to meet me." " Woful youth, 295 
 The dead shall never rise but once." " And why ? 
 The primrose that was dead, I saw it shed 
 Its leaves, and now again 'tis fresh and fair ; 
 The swallow, fled on gliding wing away,
 
 BOOK IX.J THE BRIGHT CITY. 267 
 
 Like a departing spirit, see it skims 
 
 The waters ; the white dormouse, that went down 
 
 Into its cave, hath been abroad ; the stream, 
 
 That was so silent, hark I its murmuring voice 
 
 Is round about us ; Lilian too, to meet 
 
 The voices and the breathing things she lov'd, 305 
 
 Amid the sunshine and the springing joy 
 
 Will rise again." " Kind Heaven, I should have known, 
 
 Though rust-embrown'd yon breast-plate, and yon helm, 
 
 I should have known, though furrowy, sunk and wan, 
 
 That face, though wrecked and broken, that tall form ; 
 
 Prince Vortimer ! in maiden or in child, 311 
 
 Fancies so sick and wild had been most sad, 
 
 But in a martial and renowned chief, 
 
 Might teach a trick of pity to a fiend. 
 
 Oh, much abused ! much injured, well, too well 315 
 
 Hath that fell man the deed of evil wrought." 
 
 " Man, man ! then there is man, whose blood will flow, 
 
 Whose flesh will quiver under the keen steel, 
 
 Samor !" And up he leap'd, as though he flung 
 
 Like a dead load, the dreamy madness off. 320 
 
 " Samor ! thou tranquil soul ! that walk'st abroad
 
 268 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IX. 
 
 With thy calm reason, and thy cloudless face 
 
 Unchangeable, as a cold midnight star : 
 
 Thou scarce wilt credit, I have found a joy 
 
 In hurling stones down on that glassy tide, 325 
 
 And with an angry and quick-dashing foot, 
 
 Breaking the senseless smoothness, that methought 
 
 Smiled wickedly upon me, and rejoiced 
 
 At its own guilt and my calamity. 
 
 But oh, upon a thing that feels and bleeds, 330 
 
 And shrieks and shudders, with avenging arm 
 
 To spring ! Where is't and who ? good Samor tell." 
 
 And Samor told the tale, and thus " Brave youth, 
 
 Not only from yon narrow turf, come up 
 
 From Britain's every hill, and glen, and plain, 335 
 
 Deep voices that invoke thee, Vortimer, 
 
 To waken from thy woful rest. Thy arm 
 
 No selfish, close, and singular revenge 
 
 Must nerve and freshen ; in thy country's cause, 
 
 Not in thy own, that fury must be wreaVd." 340 
 
 His answer was the brandishing his sword, 
 Which he had rent down from th 1 o'erhanging bough, 
 And the infuriate riot of his eye.
 
 BOOK IX.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 269 
 
 " Oh, perilous your hazard," still went on 
 Samor, " ye foes of freedom, ye take off 345 
 
 Heaven's bonds from all our fiercer part of man, 
 Ye legalize forbidden thoughts, the thirst 
 Of blood ye make a glory, give the hue 
 Of honour and self-admiration proud, 
 To passions murky, dark, unreconcil'd : 350 
 
 The stern and Pagan vengeance sanctify 
 T' a Christian virtue, and our prayers, that mount 
 Unto the throne of God, though harshly toned 
 With imprecations, take their flight unchecked." 
 
 But Vortimer upon the grassy bank 355 
 
 Had fall'n, " Not long, sweet spirit, oh not long, 
 Shall violets be wanting on thy grave." 
 
 Yet unaccompanied the Avenger past, 
 As though the wonted dark and solemn words, 
 " Vengeance and Vigilance," had fix\l him there, 360 
 Prince Vortimer remains by Eamont side. 
 
 Samor ! the cities hear thy lonely voice, 
 Thy lonely tread is in the quiet vale, 
 Thy lonely arm, amid his deep trench'd camp, 
 The Saxon hears upon some crashing helm 365
 
 270 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IX. 
 
 Breaking in thunder and in death. But thee, 
 
 Why see I thee by Severn side ? what soft 
 
 And indolent attraction wiles thee on, 
 
 Even on this cold and gusty April day, 
 
 To the sad desert of thy ancient home ? 370 
 
 Why mingle for thyself the wormwood cup ? 
 
 Why plunge into the fount of bitterness ? 
 
 Or why, with sad indulgence, pamper up, 
 
 Wilful the moody sorrow, and relax 
 
 Thy high-strung spirit ? Oh, so near, no power, 375 
 
 Hath he to pass from those old scenes away, 
 
 He must go visit every spot belov'd, 
 
 And think on joys, no more to be enjoy 'd. 
 
 Ruin is there, but ruin slow and mild, 
 The spider's wandering web is thin and gray 380 
 
 On roof and wall, here clings the dusky bat, 
 And, where his infants voices us'd to sound, 
 The owlet's sullen flutter and dull chirp 
 Come o'er him ; on his hospitable hearth 
 The blind worm and slow beetle crawl their round. 385 
 Yet is no little, light, and trivial tiling, 
 Without its tender memory ; first with kiss,
 
 BOOK IX.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 271 
 
 Long and apparent sweet, the primrose bed 
 He visits, where that graceful girl is laid. 
 Then roves he every chamber ; eye, and ear, 390 
 
 And soul, all full of her, that is not there : 
 Emeric haunts everywhere, there's not a door 
 Her thin form hath not glided through, no stone 
 Upon the chequered marble where her foot 
 Hath never glanced, no window whence her eyes 395 
 Have never gaz'd for him ; the walls have heard 
 Her voice ; her touch, now deathly cold, hath been 
 Warm on so many things ; there hangs, even now, 
 The lute, from whence those harmonies she drew, 
 So spherelike sweet, they seenrfd to drop from heaven. 
 There, where the fox came starting out but now, 40 1 
 There, circled with her infants, did she sit : 
 And here the bridal couch, the couch of love, 
 A little while, and then the bed of death. 
 And lo that holy scroll of parchment, stamp'd 405 
 
 With many a sentence of the w r ord of God, 
 Still open, Samor could not choose but read 
 In large and brilliant characters emblaz'd, 
 The Preacher's " Vanity of vanities."
 
 272 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IX. 
 
 How like is grief to pleasure ! here to stay 410 
 
 One day, one night, to see the eve sink down 
 Into the water, with its wonted fall, 
 'Tis strange temptation and to gather up 
 Sad relics. And the visionary night ! 
 How will its airy forms come sliding down, 415 
 
 Here, where is old familiar footing all, 
 Tis strange temptation. But the White -horse flag 
 Past waving o'er his sight, at once he thought 
 Of that seal'd day of destiny, when his foot 
 Should trample on its neck, and burst away. 420 
 
 Oh secret traveller o'er a ruin'd land, 
 Yet once more must I seek thee 'mid the drear, 
 The desolate, the dead. On Ambri plain, 
 On Murder's blasted place of pride. Might seem 
 At distance 'twas a favour'd meadow, bright 425 
 
 With richer herbage than the moorland brown 
 Around it, the luxurious weeds look'd boon, 
 And glanc'd their many-colours fleck'd with dew. 
 Seen nearer, scatter'd all around appear 'd 
 Few relics of that sumptuous feast, the wrecks 430 
 
 Of lifeless things, that gaily glittered still,
 
 BOOK IX.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 273 
 
 While all the living had been dark so long. 
 
 Fragments of banners, and pavilion shreds, 
 
 Or broken goblet here and there, or ring, 
 
 Or collar on that day how proudly worn ! 435 
 
 A stol'n and hurried burying had there been ; 
 Here had the pious workman, as disturbed 
 At his imperfect toil, left struggling out 
 A hand, whose bleach'd bones seem'd even yet to grasp 
 The earth, so early, so untimely left. 440 
 
 And here the gray flix of the wolf, here black 
 Lay feathers of the obscene raven's wing, 
 Shewing, where they had marred the fruitless toil. 
 And uncouth stones bore here and there a name, 
 Haply the vaunted heritage of kings. 445 
 
 It was a sad and stricken place ; though day 
 Was in the heaven, and the fresh grass look'd gren, 
 The light was withered, nor was silence there 
 A soothing quiet ; busy 'twas, and chill 
 And piercing, rather absence of strong sound, 450 
 
 Than stillness, like the shivering interval 
 Between the pauses of a passing bell. 
 
 Oh Britain i what a narrow place confines 
 
 T
 
 274 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IX. 
 
 Thy powerful and thy princely ! that gray earth 
 
 Was what adorn'd and made thee proud: the fair, 455 
 
 Whose beauty was the rapture of thy maids, 
 
 The treasure of thy mothers : and the brave, 
 
 Whose constant valour was thy wall of strength : 
 
 The wealthy, whose air-gilding palace towers 
 
 Made thee a realm of glory to detain 460 
 
 The noon-day sun in his career ; thy wise, 
 
 Whose grave and solemn argument controlled 
 
 Thy councils, and thy mighty, whose command 
 
 Was law in thy strong cities. Beauty, wealth, 
 
 Might, valour, wisdom, mingled and absorbed 465 
 
 In one cold similarity of dust, 
 
 One layer of white and silent ashes all. 
 
 The air breathes of mortality ; abroad 
 
 A spirit seems to hover, pouring in 
 
 Dim thoughts of Doomsday to the soul ; steal up 470 
 
 Voiceless sensations of eternity 
 
 From the blank earth. Oh, is it there beneath 
 
 Th' invisible everlasting ? or dispers'd 
 
 Among its immaterial kindred free, 
 
 The elements ? Oh man ! man ! fit compeer 475
 
 BOOK IX.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 275 
 
 Of worms and angels, trodden under foot, 
 Yet boundless by the infinite expanse 
 Of ether ! mouldering and immutable ! 
 
 But thou, Avenger, in that quiet glebe, 
 How many things are hid, once link'd to thee 480 
 
 By ties more gentle than the coupling silk, 
 That pairs two snowy doves ! hands used to meet 
 In brotherly embrace with thine, and hearts 
 Wherein thy image dwelt, clear, changeless, full 
 As the Spring moon upon a crystal lake : 485 
 
 Faces in feast, in council, and in fight, 
 That took their colouring from thine. And thou 
 Alone art breathing, moving, speaking here, 
 Amid the cold, the motionless, the mute ! 
 
 Among that solemn multitude of graves 490 
 
 One woman hath her dwelling : round and round 
 She wanders with a foot that seems to fear 
 That it is treading over one belov'd. 
 She seems to seek what she despairs to find. 
 There's in her eye a wild enquiring roll, 495 
 
 Yet th' eye is stony. Oft she stops to hear, 
 Then, as in bitter disappointment, shakes
 
 276 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IX. 
 
 Her loose hair, and again goes wandering on. 
 
 She shriek'd at Samor's presence, and flung up 
 
 Her arms, and in her shriek was laughter. " Thou .' 
 
 What dost thou with that face above the earth, 501 
 
 Thou should'stbewith the rest!'* "My friend's soft bride, 
 
 The dainty Evelene !" " That's it, the name 
 
 Wherewith the winds have mock'd me every morn, 
 
 And every dusky eve or was it then ? 505 
 
 Aye then it was, when I was wont to sleep 
 
 On a soft bed, and when no rough winds blew 
 
 About me, when I ever saw myself 
 
 Drest glitt'ringly, and there was something else 
 
 Then, which there is not now." " Thy Elidure 510 
 
 Sad houseless widow ! ^ " Hah ! thou cunning man, 
 
 Twas that, 'twas that ! and thou canst tell me too 
 
 Where they have laid him well thou canst, I know 
 
 There's deep connexion 'twixt my grief and thee. 
 
 Thou, thou art he that wakest sleepers up, 515 
 
 And send'st them forth along the cold bare heath, 
 
 To seek the dark and disappearing. There 
 
 Sound bowlings at the midnight bleak, and blasts 
 
 Shivering and fierce. And there come peasant boors
 
 BOOK IX.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 277 
 
 That bring the mourner bread, and weave the roof 520 
 
 Above her, of the brown and rustling fern ; 
 
 But never sounds the voice, or comes the shape 
 
 She sought for. Oh, my wakings and my sleeps 
 
 How exquisite they were, upon his breast 
 
 I slept, and when I woke there snuTd his face,." 525 
 
 Even as the female pigeon to her nest, 
 All ruffled by rude winds and discomposed, 
 Returning, with full breast sits brooding down, 
 And all sinks smooth around her and beneath : 
 So when the image of departed joy 530 
 
 Revisited the heart of that sad wife, 
 Settled to peace its wayward and distraught, 
 Sweetly she spake, and unconfus'dly heard, 
 Of him the low, the undistinguish'd laid, 
 Of Samor's friend, her bridegroom, Elidure. 535 
 
 And somewhat of her pale and tender bloom 
 With a faint flourishing enlivened up 
 The wither'd and the sunken in her cheek ; 
 But when again alone, o^er heart and brain 
 Flash'd back the wandering, recommenc'd the search 
 Ever with broken questionings, and mute 540
 
 278 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK IX. 
 
 Lip-parted listenings, pauses at each grave, 
 
 As though it were her right, where lay her lord, 
 
 That some inherent consciousness should start 
 
 Within her ; though 'tis nature's laWj that one 545 
 
 Cold undistinguish'd silence palls the dead, 
 
 Yet, yet 'tis hard and cruel not to grant 
 
 One low sound, even the likeness of a sound, 
 
 To tell her where to lay her down and die. 
 
 Sure there are spirits round her, yet all leagued 550 
 
 T' abuse and lead astray, and his, even his, 
 
 Pitiless as the rest, with jealous care 
 
 Concealing its felt presence. Ghostly night 
 
 Wafts her no dusk intelligence ; the day 
 
 Shews nothing with its broad and glaring rays. 555
 
 BOOK X.J THE BRIGHT CITY. 279 
 
 BOOK X. 
 
 BUT thou from North to South hast rang'd the isle, 
 
 From Skiddaw to the Cornwall sea-beat rocks, 
 
 One icy face of desolation cold, 
 
 One level sheet of sorrow and dismay, 
 
 Avenger ! thou hast traversed, hast but held 5 
 
 Companionship with mourners and with slaves. 
 
 Upon the northern rocks of Cornwall meet 
 Th' Avenger and the Warrior ; thus spake he 
 " How name ye yon strong castle on the rock ?" 
 '* Tintagel, the prince Gorlois 1 towers." " And whose 
 Yon soldiers cresting with their camp the shore, 1 1 
 
 And yon embattled navy on the sea, 
 Rounding their moony circle?" " Mine." " And thou?" 
 " Methinks, most solemn questioner, the helm
 
 280 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK X. 
 
 Might well proclaim Pendragon." " No, the front, 15 
 
 Whereon that scaly blazon us'd to glow, 
 
 Had ne'er been girding with unnatural siege 
 
 A British castle, while all Britain lay 
 
 In chains beneath the Stranger." " What art thou, 
 
 That beardest in thy high and taunting vein 20 
 
 The Princes of the land ?" " A Prince." Thus arm'd 
 
 And thus attir'd !" " Misjudging ! must thou learn 
 
 The actions are the raiment of the man, 
 
 Better to serve my country in worn weeds 
 
 And dinted arms like mine, than 'gainst her sons 25 
 
 To lace a golden panoply. This rust, 
 
 'Tis Saxon blood, for thine, its only praise 
 
 Is its bright stainlessness. Look not, fierce Prince, 
 
 As from my veins its earliest spots should fall, 
 
 Tis Britain barbs the arrows that I speak, 30 
 
 And makes thy heart its mark. 1 ' " What man or more 
 
 Thus fires and freezes, angers and controls 
 
 With the majestic valour of his tongue, 
 
 The never yet controlled, and bears the name 
 
 Of Britain, like a shield before him, broad 35 
 
 And firm against my ripe and bursting wrath ?
 
 BOOKX.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 281 
 
 Samor ! come, honoured warrior, to my arms ; 
 
 Oh shame to see, and seeing not to know 
 
 The noblest of our isle. 1 " " No arms may fold 
 
 Samor within them, but a Briton's ; thou 40 
 
 By this apostate war disown'st the name, 
 
 And leaguest dark alliance with her foes." 
 
 " Ah, then thou know'st not, in yon rock is mew'd 
 The crafty kite that hath my dove in thrall. 
 My dove, my bride, my sweet Igerna ; her 45 
 
 That Gorlois with his privy talon swoop'd, 
 The gentle, the defenceless, and looks down 
 From his air-swinging eyrie on my wrath, 
 That like the sea against that rooted rock, 
 Lashes and roars in vain/' "^Thy bride !" " My bride, 
 By holy words in saintly chapel spoke ; 5 1 
 
 And all before, the twilight meetings stolen, 
 Upon the shelly beach, when came my bark 
 Sliding with smooth oar through the soundless spray 
 From the Armoric shore, and vows so fond 55 
 
 The unfelt waters crept up round our feet ; 
 All after, rapturous union undisturbed, 
 Her father's blessing on our bridal couch, 
 Promise of infant pledges, all o'erthrown,
 
 282 SAMOR, LORD OP [BOOK X. 
 
 All wither'd by that Gorlois, that low worm 60 
 
 I were too proud to tread on heretofore ; 
 
 He with some cold and antiquated plea 
 
 Of broken compact by the sire, away 
 
 Reft with a villain stealth th" 1 ill-guarded gem, 
 
 And hoards it in his lone and trackless cave." 65 
 
 " A darker and more precious theft has been : 
 This Britain hath been stolen, this fair isle, 
 This land of free-born Christian men become 
 The rapine of fierce Heathens. Uther, hear, 
 Hear, son of Constantine ! most dear the ties 7^ 
 
 Of wedlock earthly woven, yet seaPd by God ; 
 But those that link us to our native land 
 Are wrought out from th' eternal adamant 
 By the Almighty. Oh thy country's call 
 Loud with a thousand voices drowns the tone 75 
 
 Of sweet complaining even from wife belov'd 
 Forego the weaker, Uther, and obey 
 The stronger duty." " Bloodless man and cold, 
 Or wrong I thee ; perchance the Saxon holds 
 Thy Emeric, and my claims must cede to thine, 80 
 Even as all beauties to that peerless star."" 
 
 " Spare, Uther, spare thy taunting, she is safe,
 
 BOOK X.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 283 
 
 Briton or Saxon harm not her."" " Tis well, 
 
 Fair tidings ! but thy shuddering brow looks white." 
 
 " There's a cold safety, Uther, with the dead, 85 
 
 There is where foes disturb no more, the grave." 
 
 " Pardon me, friend oh pardon but my wife, 
 
 She too will seek that undisturbed place, 
 
 Ere yield to that pale craven's love ; if false 
 
 She dare not live, and yet, oh yet she lives." 90 
 
 Uprose the Avenger, and his way he took 
 To where the rock broke off abrupt and sheer. 
 Before him yawn'd the chasm, whose depth of gloom 
 Sever 'd the island Castle from the shore : 
 The ocean waves, as though but newly rent 95 
 
 That narrow channel, tumbled to and fro, 
 Rush'd and recoil'd, and sullenly sent up 
 An everlasting roar, deep echoed out 
 From th' underworking caverns ; the white gulls 
 Were wandering in the dusk abyss, and shone 100 
 
 Faint sunlight here and there on the moist slate. 
 The Castle drawbridge hung aloof, arnVd men 
 Pac"d the stern ramparts, javelins look'd out 
 From embrasure and loop-hole, arbalist
 
 284 SAMOR, LORD OP [BOOK X. 
 
 And bowstring loaded lay with weight of shaft 105 
 
 Menacing. On the dizzy brink stood up 
 Th' Avenger, like a Seraph when absolved 
 His earthly mission, on some sunny peak 
 He waits the gathering cloud, whereon he wont 
 To charioteer along the azure space ; 1 10 
 
 In vain he waits not, under his plum'd feet, 
 And round about his spreading wings it floats. 
 And sails off proudly with its heavenly freight. 
 Even thus at Samor's call down heavy fell 
 The drawbridge, o'er the abyss th' Avenger springs ; 1 1 5 
 Tintagel's huge portcullis groaning up 
 Its groves gives way ; then up the jealous bridge 
 Behind him leaps, the gate falls clashing down. 
 Half wonder, and half fear, Pendragon shook 
 The terrors of his crest, and gasping stood, 120 
 
 As when a hunter is gone in to brave 
 The bear within his shaggy den, down peers 
 His fellow through the dusk, and fears to see 
 What his keen eyes strain after. But elate 
 Appeared upon the rampart that tall Chief, 1 25 
 
 Seeming on th' outpour'd garrison to cast
 
 BOOK X.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 285 
 
 Words potent as the fabled Wizard's oils, 
 
 With the terrific smoothness of their fire 
 
 Wide sheeting the hush'd ocean ; th' arbalist 
 
 Discharged its unaim'd bolt, the arrow fell 130 
 
 From the slack bowstring ; careless of his charge, 
 
 The watchman from his turret lean'd, o'er all 
 
 Brightening and stilling the high language spread, 
 
 Giving a cast of pride to vulgar brows, 
 
 Shedding o'er stupor and thick-breathing awe 135 
 
 A solemn hue of glory : Far it spread 
 
 Beyond the sphere of sound, th 1 indignant brow, 
 
 The stately waving of the arm discours'd, 
 
 Flow'd argument from every comely limb, 
 
 And the whole man was eloquence. From cliff, 140 
 
 From bark gaz'd Uther's soldiery, one voice 
 
 Held in suspense the wild and busy war, 
 
 And on the motion of his lips, the fate 
 
 Of two strong armies hung. Anon the gate 
 
 Flew up, the bridge lay shuddering o'er the chasm. 145 
 
 Forth Samor comes, a Lady by his side, 
 And Gorlois in the garb of peace behind. 
 Tremblingly she came gliding on, and smooth,
 
 286 SAMOR, LORD OF [fiOOK X. 
 
 As the west wind o'er beds of flowers, a child 
 
 Was with her : the cool freshness of the air 150 
 
 Seem'd o'er her marble cheek a flush unus'd 
 
 To breathe, and human faces o'er her threw 
 
 A modest, faint disturbance. Uther rush'd 
 
 To meet her, ere he came her failing frame 
 
 Seem'd as it sought some breast lo sink upon, 155 
 
 Though feebly resolute, that none but his 
 
 Should be the chosen resting place. But he 
 
 Severe withheld her. " Can the snowdrop bloom 
 
 Untainted on the hemlock bank, near thee, 
 
 Igerna, long hath trail'd a venomous plant, 160 
 
 Hast thou the sullying influence scap'd ?" She strove 
 
 To work displeasure to her brow, the joy, 
 
 The fondness would not give it place : she held 
 
 Her boy on high, she pointed from the lines 
 
 Of his soft face to UtherX with appeal 165 
 
 Half rapture, half reproach, and cast herself 
 
 With timid boldness on her rightful couch, 
 
 Her husband's bosom, that received her in, 
 
 Even as the opening clouds an angel home 
 
 Returning. But the joyous boy relax'd
 
 BOOK X.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 287 
 
 His features to a beautiful delight ; 
 
 To the fierce Dragon on his father's helm 
 
 Lifting his sportive hand, and smoothing down 
 
 The horrent scales, and looking with glad eye 
 
 Into the fiery hollow of his jaws. 175 
 
 Mute lay the armies, the pale Gorlois wrought 
 His features to a politic joy, alone 
 Stood Samor and aloof, he stood in tears. 
 Samor, amid the plain of buried men 
 Tearless, and in his own deserted home, 1 80 
 
 In tears unveiM before th' assembled camp ; 
 It was so like a meeting after deatli, 
 That union'of the husband and the wife, 
 So ghostly, so unearthly. Thus shall meet 
 The disembodied, Emeric and himself, 195 
 
 Not with rude rocks their footing, the cold airs 
 And cloudy sunshine of this world around. 
 But all of life must intervene, and all 
 The long dark grave mysterious : yet even here 
 It was a sweet impossibility, 1 90 
 
 Wherewith at times his soul mad dalliance held, 
 An earthly, bodily, sensible caress,
 
 288 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK X. 
 
 Even long and rapturous, as that hanging now 
 On Uther's neck from soft Igerna's arms. 
 
 Upon the silence burst a voice that cried 195 
 
 " Arthur," whereat the child his sport broke off 
 With that embossed serpent, and stretched out 
 His arms, where, on the fragment of a rock, 
 Stood Merlin. " Arthur, hail ! hail, fatal Boy, 
 Bright arrow from the bow of Destiny, 200 
 
 Go forth upon thy fiery course ! the steeds 
 Are in the meadows, that shall bear thee forth, 
 Thee and thy barded chivalry ! the spears 
 Are forg'd wherewith in tourney and in fight 
 Ye shall o'erbear the vaunting Saxon ! shields 205 
 
 Are stamping with your bright devices bold; 
 And Bards are leaning on their high-strung harps, 
 Awaiting thee, to flower out in their boon 
 And ripe fertility of song. Go forth, 
 Strong reaper in the harvest of renown, 210 
 
 Arthur ! the everlasting Lord of Fate 
 Hath summoned thee to thy immortal race !" 
 
 The infant clapp'd his hands, Peiidragon flung 
 Aloft his scaly bickering crest, her child
 
 BOOK X.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 289 
 
 Igerna folded to her heart, and wept. 215 
 
 And forward leap'd the Avenger to salute 
 Snowdon's dark Prophet, Merlin was not there. 
 
 Good fortune on good fortune followeth fast ; 
 Tidings come rapid of a Breton fleet 
 Seen on the southern shore ; the chiefs are past 220 
 To where th' Archangel's Mount o'erlooks the sea. 
 
 Oh go not to thy couch, thou bright hair'd Sun ! 
 Though Ocean spread its welcoming breast, yet pause 
 'Mid that etherial architecture wrought 
 Around thee by thine own creative light. 225 
 
 How broad the over-vaulting palace arch 
 Spreads up the heavens with amethyst ciel'd, and hung 
 With an enwoven tapestry of flame, 
 Wav'd over by long banner, and emblaz'd, 
 Like hall of old barbaric Potentate, 230 
 
 With scutcheon and with shield, that now unfold, 
 Now in their cloudy texture shift ; and paved 
 With watery mosaic rich, the waves 
 Quick glancing, like a floating surface, laid 
 With porphyry and crystal interwrought 235 
 
 There's yet a sight, oh Sun ! to check awhile
 
 290 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK X. 
 
 Thy setting ; lo, the failing breezes lift 
 
 The white wings of that fair Armoric fleet 
 
 To catch the level lines of light ; the oars 
 
 Flash up the spray, that purples as it falls: 240 
 
 While wearing one by one, their armed freight 
 
 They cast out on the surfy beach. The Kings, 
 
 King Emrys and Armoric Hoel meet 
 
 Pendragon, Samor, and their band of chiefs. 
 
 There meet they on the land's extremest verge 245 
 To conquer, to deliver, few, but strong, 
 Strong in the sinews of the soul ; as rose 
 The giant wrestler from his mother's breast, 
 Earth-born Anteus, his huge limbs refresh'd 
 For the Herculean combat, so shall ye, 250 
 
 Kings, Chiefs, and Warriors, from your native soil 
 Draw to the immortal faculties of mind 
 A springtide everlasting and unchang'd. 
 The armour of a holy cause outshines 
 The iron or the knosped brass, and hopes 255 
 
 And memories to the home-returning brave 
 Crowding from every speck of sacred earth, 
 Outplead the trumpet's wakening blast, till leaps
 
 BOOK X.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 291 
 
 Vengeance to Glory's vanguard post, and leads 
 
 The onset, and looks proudly down to see 260 
 
 The red blood deepening round her laving feet. 
 
 Alas, that in your harvest of high thoughts, 
 Thick set with golden promise of renown, 
 The poppy seeds of envy and distrust 
 Should take their baleful root. Slow winds along 265 
 Gorlois, the sower of that noxious crop, 
 Scattering it in with careless toil ; now stands 
 By royal Emrys 1 side, now mines beneath 
 Pendragon's towery soul, now sadly warns 
 With cautious words and dark speech broken off, 270 
 Hoel, the crown'd Armorican ; his looks 
 Belying his feign'd confidence of speech, 
 But half surmising fear, and killing hope 
 By his cold care of keeping it ah' ve. 
 
 " Not that I love not, whom all love, admire 275 
 On whom the admiration of all hearts 
 Falls with such free profusion, 'tis no shame 
 For us mean lamps before great Samor's light 
 To wane and glimmer in our faint eclipse. 
 Yet whence this fettering of all eyes and hearts ? 280
 
 292 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK X. 
 
 This stern unsocial solitude of fame ? 
 
 True, from that fatal banquet ""scap'd he, true, 
 
 Undaunted hath he rov'd the isle, nor doubt 
 
 For some high purpose, that 'twere rash for us 
 
 To search out with our dim and misty sight ; 285 
 
 Nor think, King Emrys, I thy crown assert 
 
 Unstably set upon thy royal brow, 
 
 But there's a dazzling in its jewelM round 
 
 Might tempt a less self-mastering grasp. Who holds 
 
 The souls of men in thraldom with his tongue, 290 
 
 Makes bridges grow before him, stony walls 
 
 Break up to give him way, I speak not now 
 
 In vengeance of Tintagel, 'twas a deed 
 
 Most worth my richest praise, that made me friend 
 
 To brave Pendragon. But ambition wreck'd 295 
 
 The angels, and the climbing soul of man 
 
 Hath sinn'd for meaner gain than Britain's throne." 
 
 So one by one he wound his serpent coil 
 Around the Chieftains' souls ; and inly breath'd 
 The creeping venom. But Pendragon's heart, 300 
 Too fiery or too noble to suspect, 
 In Samor's teeth flung fierce th' oppressive doubt.
 
 BOOK X.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 293 
 
 Th' Avenger's tranquil smile was like the change 
 
 Of aspect in a green and lofty tree, 
 
 Touched by the wings of some faint breeze, nor shakes 305 
 
 The massy foliage, nor is quite at rest, 
 
 While languidly the undisturbing air 
 
 Falls away and expires. " Will Emrys hold 
 
 At midnight on St. Michael's Mount his pomp 
 
 Of Coronation ? Samor will be there. 1 ' 310 
 
 " At midnight ! " " Aye, the fires will gaily blaze, 
 
 The silent air is meet for solemn oaths." 
 
 The night is starless, soft and still, the heavens 
 
 O'erwoven with a thin and rayless mist ; 
 
 A long low heavy sound of breaking surge 315 
 
 Roams down the shore, and now and then the woods 
 
 Flutter and bend with one short rush of wind. 
 
 The tide hath risen o'er the stony belt, 
 
 That to the mainland links the Mount : where meet 
 
 Even now the Chieftains, ocean all around, 320 
 
 On every side the white and moaning waves. 
 
 On the bare summit, 'neath the cope of heaven, 
 
 The conclave stands, bare, save a lofty pile 
 
 Of wood compacted like funereal pyre
 
 294 . SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK X* 
 
 Of a departed hero in old time x 325 
 
 On some ^Egean promontory reared, 
 Or by the Black Inhospitable Sea. 
 
 The crown is on king Emrys' head, his hair 
 Is redolent with the anointing oil. 
 " Hail, King of Britain !" Samor cried, and Hail !" 
 Replied that band of heroes ; Hail ! the shores 230 
 
 Echoed, from bark and tent came pealing up 
 The universal Hail, the ocean waves 
 Broke in with their hoarse murmur of applause. 
 
 "Air, earth, and waters, ye have play'd your part, 335 
 There's yet another element," cried aloud 
 Samor, and in the pyre he cast a brand. 
 A moment, and uprush'd the giant fire, 
 Piercing the dim heavens with its blazing brow, 
 And on the still air shaking its red locks. 340 
 
 There by its side the Vassals and their King, 
 Motionless on their shadows huge and dun, 
 Show'd like destroying Angels, round enwrap'd 
 In their careering pomp of flame ; far flash'd 
 The yellow midnight day o'er shore and sea : 345 
 
 The waves now ruddy heav'd, now darkly plung'd,
 
 BOOK X.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 295 
 
 Upon the rocks, within the wavering light 
 
 Strong featured faces fierce, and hard-lin'd forms 
 
 Broke out and disappeared ; the anchored fleet 
 
 Were laving their brown sides in rainbow spray. 350 
 
 No sound was heard, but the devouring flame, 
 
 And the thick plashing waters. " Keep your faith, 
 
 (Cried Samor) ye eternal hills, and ye 
 
 Heaven-neighbouring mountains ! " Eastward far anon 
 
 Another fire rose furious up, behind 355 
 
 Another and another : all the hills 
 
 Each behind each held up its crest of flame ; 
 
 Along the heavens the bright and crimson hue 
 
 Widening and deepening travels on : the range 
 
 O'erleaps black Tamar, by whose ebon tide 360 
 
 Cornwall is bounded, and on Heytor rock, 
 
 Above the stony moorish source of Dart, 
 
 It waves a sanguine standard ; Haldon burns, 
 
 And the red City* glows a deeper hue ; 
 
 And all the southern rocks, the moorland downs 365 
 
 In those portentous characters of flame 
 
 Discourse, and bear the glaring legend on, 
 
 * Caer ruth, Exeter.
 
 296 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK X. 
 
 Even to the graves on Ambri plain, where woke 
 
 That pallid woman, and rejoic'd, and deemed 
 
 'Twas sent to guide her to the tomb she sought. 370 
 
 Fast flash they up, those altars of revenge, 
 
 As the snake-tressed Sister torch-bearers. 
 
 Th' Eumenides, from the Tartarian depths 
 
 Were leaping on from hill to hill, on each 
 
 Leaving the tracks of their flame-dropping feet. 375 
 
 Or as the souls of the dead fathers, wrapt 
 
 In bright meteorous grave-clothes, had arisen, 
 
 And each sate crowning his accustomed hill, 
 
 Silent and radiant : or as th' isle devote 
 
 Had wrought down by her bold and frequent guilt 380 
 
 Th' Almighty's lightning shafts, now numberless 
 
 Forth raining from the lurid reeking clouds, 
 
 And smiting all the heights. On spreads the train, 
 
 Northward it breaks upon the Quantock ridge, 
 
 It reddens on the Mendip forests dark, 385 
 
 It looks into the cavernM Cheddar cliffs, 
 
 The boatman on the Severn mouth awakes 
 
 And sees the waters rippling round his keel 
 
 In spots and streaks of purple light, each shore
 
 BOOK X.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 297 
 
 Ablaze with all its answering hills ; the streams 390 
 
 Run glittering down Plinlimmon's side, though thick 
 
 And moonless the wan night : and Idris stands 
 
 Like Stromboli or ^Etna, where 'twas feign'd 
 
 E'er at their flashing furnace wrought the Sons 
 
 Of Vulcan, forging with eternal toil 395 
 
 Jove's never idle thunderbolts. And thou, 
 
 Snowdon, the king of mountains, art not dark 
 
 Amid thy vassal brethren gleaming bright. 
 
 Is it to welcome thy returning Seer, 
 
 That thus above thy clouds, above thy snows 400 
 
 Thou wear'st that wreathed diadem of fire, 
 
 As to outshine the pale and winking stars ? 
 
 O'er Menai's waters blue the gleaming spreads, 
 
 The Bard in Mona's secret grove beholds 
 
 A glitter on his harp-strings, and looks out 405 
 
 Upon the kindling cliffs of Penmanmawr. 
 
 Is it a pile of martyrdom above 
 
 Clwyd's green vale ? beside the embers bright 
 
 Stands holy Germain, as a Saint new come 
 
 From the pure mansions of beatitude, 410 
 
 The centre of a glory, that spreads round
 
 298 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK X. 
 
 Its film of thin pellucid gold. Nor there 
 
 Pauses the restless Messenger, still on 
 
 Vaults it from rock to rock, from peak to peak. 
 
 Far seen it shimmered on Caer Ebranc wall, 415 
 
 And Malwyn blew a bugle blast for joy. 
 
 The sun uprising sees the dusk night fled 
 
 Already from tall Pendle, and the height 
 
 Of Ingleborough, sees Helvellyn cast 
 
 A meteor splendour on the mountain lakes, 420 
 
 Like mirrors of the liquid molten brass. 
 
 The brightest and the broadest and the last, 
 
 t ' r 
 There flakes the beacon glare, and in the midst 
 
 Dashing the ruddy sparkles to and fro 
 With the black remnant of a pine-tree stem, 
 ^tands arm'd from head to foot Prince Vortimer.
 
 BOOK XI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 299 
 
 BOOK XI. 
 
 M i G H T Y in thy endurance, in revenge 
 Mightier ! thou shak'st thy dusky patience off, 
 Oh Britain ! as a snake its wither'd skin, 
 
 B 
 
 That boastful to the sunshine coils and spreads 
 
 In bright and cruel beauty. Not in vain 5 
 
 Have those wild beacons reared their fires, thou wak'st, 
 
 The slumber falls from thee, as dewdrops shed 
 
 From the morn-kindling falcon's wing. On hill, 
 
 In vale, in forest and in moor, in field 
 
 And city, like the free and common air, 1 
 
 Like the wide-spreading golden hue of dawn, 
 
 Ranges the boundless passion uncontrolled. 
 
 The " Vigilance," hath drop'd absorbed away 
 
 From the fierce war-cry, one portending word
 
 800 SAMOR, LORD OP [BOOK XI. 
 
 " Vengeance," rides lonely upon all the winds. ] 5 
 
 Alas, delicious Spring ! God sends thee down 
 To breathe upon his cold and perish'd works 
 Beauteous revival ; earth should welcome thee, 
 Thee and the West wind, thy smooth paramour, 
 With the soft laughter of her flowery meads, 20 
 
 Her joys, her melodies. The prancing stag 
 Flutters the shivering fern, the steed shakes out 
 His mane, the dewy herbage silver-webb'd 
 With frank step trampling ; the wild goat looks down 
 From his empurpling bed of heath, where break 25 
 The waters deep and blue with crystal gleams 
 Of their quick leaping people : the fresh lark 
 Is in the morning sky, the nightingale 
 Tunes evesong to the dropping waterfall. 
 Creation lives with loveliness, ah 1 melts 30 
 
 And trembles into one mild harmony. 
 Man, only harsh and inharmonious Man, 
 Strews for thy delicate feet the battle field, 
 Makes all thy smooth and flowing airs to jar 
 With his hoarse trumpetings, scares thy sweet light 35 
 With gleams of violent and angry brass.
 
 BOOK XI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 301 
 
 Away ! it is a yearly common joy, 
 A rapture that ne'er fails the solemn Sun 
 In his eternal round, the blossoming 
 And fragrance of the green resolving earth. 40 
 
 But a fresh springtide in the human soul, 
 A nation from its wintry trance set loose, 
 The bursting ice of servitude, the bloom 
 Of freedom in the withered mind obscure, 
 The bleakness of the heart discomfited, 45 
 
 And over the bow'd shape and darkling brow 
 The flowering out of faded glories, sounds 
 Of cheering and of comfort to the rent 
 And broken by the tyrannous northern blast, 
 These are earth's rich adornings, these the choice 50 
 Of nature's bounteous and inspiring shows. 
 Therefore the young Sun with his prime of light 
 Shall beam on ensigns ; the blithe airs shall waft 
 Jocund the lofty pealing battle words ; 
 And not unwelcome, fierce crests intercept 55 
 
 The spring-dews from the thirsty soil ; the brass 
 For vestment the admiring earth shall wear 
 More proud than all her flowery robe of green.
 
 302 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK XI. 
 
 In all the isle was flat subjection tame, 
 In all the isle, hath Freedom reared her, plum'd 60 
 
 With terror, sandal'd with relentlessness : 
 Her march like brazen chariots, or the tramp 
 Of horsemen in a rocky glen ; and clouds 
 Of javelins in her front, and in her rear 
 Dead men in grisly heaps, dead Saxons strewn 65 
 
 Upon their trampled White Horse banners : them 
 Her fury hath no time to scorn, no pause 
 To look back on her deathful deeds atchiev'd, 
 While aught remains before her to atchieve. 
 Distract amid the wide spread feast of blood, 70 
 
 The wandering raven knows not where to feed, 
 And the gorg'd vulture droops his wing and sleeps. 
 
 War hath the garb of holiness, bear proof, 
 Thou vale of Clwyd, to our cold late days, 
 By the embalming of tradition named, 75 
 
 Maes Gannon, of that saintly Bishop. He 
 His gray thin locks unshaken, his slow port 
 Calm as he trod a chapel's rush-strewn floor, 
 Comes foremost of his Christian mountaineers, 
 Against th 1 embattled Pagans fierce array. 80
 
 BOOK XI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 303 
 
 By the green margin of the stream, the band 
 
 Of Arngrim glitter in the morning light. 
 
 Their shadowy lances line the marble stream 
 
 With long and level rules of trembling shade ; 
 
 The sunshine falling in between in streaks 85 
 
 Of brightness. They th' unwonted shew of war 
 
 Behold slow winding down the wooded hill. 
 
 " Now by our Gods, 11 cried Arngrim, " discontent 
 To scare our midnight with their insolent fires, 
 They break upon our calm and peaceful day." 90 
 
 But silent as the travel of the clouds 
 At breathless twilight, or a flock that winds, 
 Dappling the brown cliff with its snowy specks, 
 Foldward along the evening dews, a bell 
 Now and then tinkling, faintly shrill, come on 95 
 
 Outspreading on the meadow the stern band 
 Of Britons with their mitred Captain ; front 
 Opposed to front they stand, and spear to spear. 
 Then Germain clasp'd his hands and look'd to heaven, 
 Then Germain in a deep and solemn tone 100 
 
 Cried " Alleluia !" answer was flung back : 
 From cliff and cavern, " Alleluia," burst ;
 
 304 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK XI- 
 
 It seem'd strong voices broke the bosom'd earth, 
 
 Dropt voices from the clouds, and in the rush 
 
 Of waters was an human clamour,* far 1 05 
 
 Swept over all things in its boundless range 
 
 The scattering and discomfiting appeal : 
 
 Twas shaken from the shivering forest leaves, 
 
 Ceaseless and countless, lifeless living things 110 
 
 Multiplied, " Alleluia,"" all the air 
 
 Was that one word, all sounds became that sound, 
 
 As the broad lightning swallows up all lights, 
 
 All quench 'd in one blue universal glare. 
 
 On rush'd the Britons, but 'gainst flying foes, 115 
 Quick smote the Britons, but no breast plate clove 
 Before them, then the ignominous death 
 First through the back found way to Saxon hearts. 
 
 Oh, Suevian forests ! Clwyd's vale beholds 
 What ye have never witnessed, ArngrinVs flight 120 
 Fleet huntsman, thou art now the deer, the herd,' 
 Whereof thou wert the prime and lofty horn'd, 
 Are falling fast around thee, th' unleashed dogs 
 Of havock on their reeking flanks and thee, 
 * Hollinshead, Book 5, Cliap. 6.
 
 BOOK XI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 
 
 The herdsman of the" meek and peaceful goats, 
 
 Thee, the soft tuner of the reedy flute 
 
 Beside Nantfrangon's stony cataract, 
 
 Mordrin pursues. So strong that battle word, 
 
 Its holy transmutation and austere 
 
 Works in the soul of man, the spirit sheathes 130 
 
 In the thrice folding brass of valour, swells 
 
 The thin and lazy blood t' a current fierce 
 
 And torrent like, and in the breast erewhile 
 
 But open to the tremulous melting airs 
 
 Of passions gentle and affections smooth, 1 35 
 
 Plants armed hopes and eagle-wingM desires. 
 
 Therefore that youth his downy hand hath wreath'd 
 
 In the strong Suevian's knotted locks, drawn up 
 
 Like a wrought helm of ebon ; therefore fix 
 
 His eyes, more us'd to swim in languid light, 140 
 
 With an implacable and constant stare 
 
 Down on the face of Arngrim, backward drawn, 
 
 As he its writhing agony enjoy'd ; 
 
 And therefore he, whose wont it was to bear 
 
 The many sparkling crystal, or the cup 145 
 
 Of dripping water lily from the spring
 
 806 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK XI. 
 
 To the blithe maiden of his love, now shakes 
 
 A gory and dissever'd head aloft, 
 
 And bounds in wild ovation down the vale. 
 
 But in that dire and beacon haunted night 1 50 
 
 King Vortigern his wonted seat had ta'en 
 Upon Caermerddhyn's topmost palace tower. 
 There, the best privilege of greatness fall'n, 
 He saw not, nor was seen : there wrapt in gloom, 
 'Twas his soul's treasured luxury and choice joy 155 
 To frame out of himself and his drear state, 
 Dark comfortable likenesses, and full 
 And frequent throng'd they this wild midnight All 
 
 Cloudy and indistinct lay round; the sole 
 
 Dull glimmering like to light was what remained 160 
 
 Of day, just not so utterly extinct 
 
 And quenched, as yet to shew splendour had been, 
 
 And was not ; the dusk simile of himself 
 
 Delighted, royal once, now with a mock 
 
 And mimic of his lustre haunted. Why, 165 
 
 Why should not human glory wane, since clouds 
 
 Put out the immortal planets in the sky t 
 
 Why should not crowns have seasons, since the moon 
 
 L! L .i."
 
 BOOK XI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 307 
 
 Hath but her hour to queen it in the heavens ? 
 
 Why should not high and climbing souls be lost 1 70 
 
 In the benighting shroud of the world's gloom ? 
 
 Lo, one inglorious, undistinguished night 
 
 Gathers the ancient mountains in its train, 
 
 While e'er the dunnest and most turbulent clouds 
 
 Thicken upon the stateliest ; but beneath 175 
 
 The lowly and contented waters lie 
 
 Asleep upon their weedy banks, yet they 
 
 Have all tbe faint blue brightness that remains. 
 
 Then moodier the fantastic humour grown, 
 
 Stooped upon mean and trivial things, them too 180 
 
 Wrought to his wayward misanthropic scope. 
 
 Amid the swaying and disturbed air 
 
 The rooks hung murmuring on the oak-tree tops, 
 
 As plaining their uneasy loftiness. 
 
 While, solitary as himself, the owl 1 85 
 
 Sate calling on its deaf and wandering mate. 
 
 Him at that sound seized merriment, that made 
 
 The lip drop, the brow writhe, " Howl on/' he cried, 
 
 " Howl for thy dusky paramour," and turn'd 
 
 To where Rowena's chamber casements stood, 190 
 
 Void, silent, dark of their once-brilliant lights.
 
 308 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK XI. 
 
 Sudden around 'gan spire the mountain tops 
 Each with its intertwisted sheaf of flame, 
 South, North, and East and West, fire everywhere, 
 Everywhere flashing and tumultuous light. 195 
 
 Then gaz'd the unking'd, then cried out the fallen, 
 " Now, by my soul, when comets gaze on kings 
 Even from the far and vaulting heavens, "'tis faith 
 There's hollowness beneath their tottering thrones; 
 But when they flash upon our earth, and stare 200 
 
 Close in our faces, 'tis ripe time and full 
 For palaces to quake and royal tombs 
 To ope their wide and all-receiving jaws. 
 What is't to me ? ye menace at the Great ! 
 Ye stoop not to be dangerous and dread, 205 
 
 Oh haughty and mysterious lights ! to thrones 
 Low and despis'd like mine ; in earlier days 
 Vortigern would have quail'd, he mocks you now. 
 Ye are not of the heavens, I know, I see, 
 Discomfiters of darkness, Conquerors 
 Of midnight, ye are of the earth. Why stands 
 Caermerddhyn and the realm of Dyfed black 
 Amid this restless multitude of flame ? 
 'Tis not for idle or for fruitless show
 
 BOOK XI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 309 
 
 That with such splendid violation Man 215 
 
 Infringeth on stern nature's laws, and rends 
 
 From night her consecrate and ancient pall ; 
 
 Samor, thy hand is there ! and Vortigern 
 
 Hath not yet learnt the patience cold and tame 
 
 To be outblaz'd and stifled thus." Down past 220 
 
 The Monarch from his seat ; few minutes fled, 
 
 And lo, within that Palace all looked red, 
 
 And hurried with a deep confusing glare : 
 
 And over it a vaulting dome of smoke 
 
 Surging arose and vast, till roaring out 225 
 
 Columns of mounting fire sprung up, and all 
 
 Whelm'd in one broad envelopement of flame, 
 
 Stood ; as when in heroic Pagan song 
 
 Apollo to his Clarian temple came ; 
 
 At once the present Godhead kindled all 230 
 
 Th" elaborate architecture, glory-wreathed 
 
 The pillars rose, the sculptured architrave 
 
 Swam in the liquid gold, the Worshipper 
 
 Within the vestibule of marble pure, 
 
 Held up his hand before his blinded eyes, 235 
 
 And so ador'd : but th n unconsuming fire
 
 310 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK XL 
 
 Innoxious ranged th' unparching edifice. 
 
 But ne'er was Palace or was Monarch seen 
 
 More in that city, one a smouldering heap 
 
 Lay in its ashes white ; how went the King 240 
 
 And whither, no one knew, but He who knows 
 
 All things, 'Twas frequent in the vulgar tale, 
 
 None saw it, yet all knew them well that saw,* 
 
 At midnight manifest a huge arm came 
 
 Forth from the welkin ; once it wav'd and twice, 245 
 
 And then it was not : but a bolt thrice fork'd, 
 
 Each fork a spike of flame, burst on the roof, 
 
 And all became a fire, and all fell down 
 
 And smouldered, even as now the shapeless walls 
 
 Lie in scorch' d heaps and black. At that same hour 250 
 
 A dark steed and a darker rider past, 
 
 With speed bemocking mortal steed, or man, 
 
 Down the steep hifl precipitous : 'twas like 
 
 In shape and hue black Favorin, on whose back 
 
 King Vortigern was wont to ride abroad ; 255 
 
 Like, surely not the same, for fire came out 
 
 From under his quick hoofs, and in his breath, 
 
 Henry Huntingdon, Hist.
 
 BOOk XI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 311 
 
 And sulphurous the blasted foot-tracks smelt, 
 
 Some dinted deep in the hard rock, some seared 
 
 On meadow grass, where never since have dews 260 
 
 Lain glittering, never the fresh verdure sprung. 
 
 . 
 ' Now is the whole Isle war. But I must crave 
 
 Pardon from those in meaner conflict slain, 
 
 Or conquerors ; Poesy's fail 4 treasure house 
 
 Contains not all the bright and rich, that gem 265 
 
 The course of humankind ; in heaven alone 
 
 Preserves enroll'd th' imperishable brass, 
 
 In letters deep of amaranthine light, 
 
 All martyrs to their country and their God. 
 
 Oh that my spirit, holding the broad glass 270 
 
 Of its invention, might at once condense 
 All rays of glory from the kindling Isle 
 Full emanating, as of old 'tis famed 
 The philosophic Syracusan caught 
 The wide diverging sunbeams, by the force 275 
 
 Of mind creating to himself a right 1 
 
 And property in nature's common gifts, 
 And domineering the free elements. 
 He that heawn-seiz'd artillery pour'd forth 
 To sear the high beaks of the 'sieging fleet, 280
 
 SAMOR, LORD OF [fiOOK XI. 
 
 That burnt, unknowing whence, 'mid the wet waves. 
 
 So I the fine immortal light would pour 
 
 Abroad, in the long after-time to beam 
 
 A consecrate and vestal fire, to guide 
 
 Through danger's precipices wild, the slopes 285 
 
 Sleepy and smootb of luxury and false bliss, 
 
 All lovers of their country. They my song 
 
 Embosoming within their heart of heart, 
 
 Like mine own Samor should bear on, too strong 
 
 To perish, and too haughty to despair. 290 
 
 They happier, he uprearing on the sand , 
 
 A Pharos, steady for a while to stem 
 
 The fierce assaulting waves, in after times 
 
 To fall ; they building for eternity 
 
 Britain's rock-founded temple of renown. 295 
 
 In the Isle's centre is a champain broad, 
 Now broken into cornfield and smooth mead, 
 Near which a hill, now with the ruin'd towers 
 Of Coningsborough (from that fight of Kings 
 Nam'd in old Saxon phrase,) soars crested, Dune 300 
 Skirts with her azure belt the level plain. 
 
 Morn dawn'd with all her attributes, the slow 
 Impearling of the heavens, the sparkling white
 
 BOOK XI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 313 
 
 On the webb'd grass, the fragrant mistiness. 
 
 The fresh airs with the twinkling leaves at sport, 305 
 
 And all the gradual and emerging light, 
 
 The crystalline distinctness settling clear, 
 
 And all the wakening and the strengthening sound. 
 
 There dawn'd she on a battle-field superb. 
 The beauty that is war's embellishment, 3 10 
 
 The splendour under whose quick-glancing pall 
 Man proudly moves to slay and to be slain, 
 How wonderful ! In semicircle huge, 
 Round that hill foot, the Saxon camps his strength, 
 A many-colour'd dazzling cirque, more rich 315 
 
 Than the autumnal woods, when the quick winds 
 Shake on them broken sunlight, than the skies 
 When thunder clouds are bursting into light, 
 And rainbow-skirted hangs each fold, or fring'd 
 With liquid gold, so wav'd that crescent broad 320 
 
 With moving fire, bloom'd all the field with brass : 
 Making of dread voluptuousness, the sense 
 Of danger in deep admiration lost 
 Oh beauteous if that morning had no eve ! 
 
 The Eastern horn, his tall steeds to his car 325
 
 314 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK XI. 
 
 HarnessM, whose scythes shone newly burnish'd, held 
 
 Caswallon ; he his painted soldiery, 
 
 Their naked breasts blue-gleaming with uncouth 
 
 And savage portraitures of hideous things, 
 
 Human and monstrous terribly combined, 3 SO 
 
 ArrayM ; himself no armour of defence 
 
 C umber 'd, as he were one Death dare not slay, 
 
 A being from man's vulgar lot exempt, 
 
 Commissioned to destroy, yet dangerless 
 
 Amid destruction, against whom war showerM 335 
 
 All its stor'd terrors, but still baffled back 
 
 RecoiFd from his unwounded front serene. 
 
 The centre were the blue-eyed Germans, loose 
 Their fierce hair, various each strong nation's arms, 
 A wild and terrible diversity 340 
 
 In the fell skill of slaughter, in the art 
 Of doing sacrifice to death. Some helm'd, 
 Whose visors like distended jaws appeared 
 Of sylvan monster, some in brinded furs 
 Wrapt shaggy, on whose shoulders seem'd to ramp 345 
 Yet living the fix'd claws ; with cross-bows some, 
 Some with long lances, some with falchions curv'd.
 
 BOOK XI.J THE BRIGHT CITY. 315 
 
 The Arian, wont to make the sajble night 
 
 A pander to his terrors,* in swarth arms 
 
 He bursting from the forest, when the shades 350 
 
 Were deepest, like embodied gloom advanced, 
 
 Shap'd for some dreadful purpose, now he mov'd 
 
 Unnatural 'mid the clear and golden day. 
 
 Here Hengist, Horsa there amid the troop 
 
 Wound their war-horses ; he his weapon fell 355 
 
 Shook, a round ball of iron spikes chained loose 
 
 To a huge pike-stave, like a baleful star, 
 
 Aye gleaming devastation in its sweep ; 
 
 Hengist begirt with that fam'd falchion calPd 
 
 The " Widower of Women ;" over all 3 GO 
 
 The fatal White Horse in the banner shone. 
 
 Round to the left Argantyr with the Jutes 
 
 And Anglians ; these for Offa's slaughter wild 
 
 T' exact the usurious payment of revenge ; 
 
 * Ceterum Arii super vires, quibus enumerates paullo ante populos 
 antecedunt, truces, x insitB feritati arte ac tempore lenocinantur ; nigra 
 scuta, tincta corpora : atras ad proelia noctcs legunt : ipsaque formidine 
 atque umbra feralis exercitus terrorem inferunt, nullo hostium sustinente 
 novum ac velut infernum aspectum : nam primi in omnibus proeliis oculi 
 vincuntar. Tac. Ger. o, 43.
 
 316 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK XT. 
 
 He sternly mindful of that broken fight 3G5 
 
 By Wye's clear stream, and his defrauded sword 
 
 Of its hope-promisM banquet, Samor's blood. 
 
 Above the multitude of brass the heights 
 
 Were crowded with the wives and mothers,* they 
 
 With their known presence working shame of flight, 370 
 
 And the high fear of being thought to fear. 
 
 With them the spoils of Britain, vessels carv'd, 
 
 Statues, and vestments of the Tyrian dye, 
 
 Standards with antique legend scrolled of deeds 
 
 Done in old times, and gorgeous arms, and cups 3 75 
 
 And lamps, and plate, or by fantastic art 
 
 Minister 'd to fond luxury's wayward choice, 
 
 Or consecrate to th' altar use of God. 
 
 And there the Saxon Gods, the wood and stone -rim*' 
 Whereto that people knelt and deified 380 
 
 Their own hands work ; the Father of the race 
 Woden, all arm\l and crown'd ; the tempest Lord, 
 
 . 
 
 * et iu proximo pignora : unde feminarum ululatus audiri, unde vagitus 
 infantium ; hi cuique sanctissuni testes, hi maximi laudatores. Ad raatrcs, 
 ad conjuges vulnera ferunt : nee illae numerare, aut exigere plagas pavent. 
 Cibosque et hortamina pugnantibus gestant Tac. Germ.
 
 BOOK XI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 317 
 
 The thunder- shaking Thor,* twelve radiant stars 
 His coronet, and sceptred his right hand ; 
 He on his stately couch reclining : fierce 385 
 
 In his mysterious multitude of signs, 
 Arminsul ; and th' Unnameable,-f- he nVd 
 On his flint pedestal, his skeleton shape 
 Garmented scantly in a winding sheet, 
 And in his hand a torchblaze, meet to search 390 
 
 Earth's utmost, while in act to spring, one hand 
 Upon his head, upon his shoulder one, 
 His faithful Lion ramp'd in sculptured ire. 
 Southward, with crescent its out-stretching horns 
 Circling the foe, lay stretclVd the British camp ; 395 
 The centre held King Emrys, on the right 
 Pendragon, on the left th 1 Armoric King, 
 With all his tall steeds and brave riders; they 
 The fathers of that famM chivalric race 
 Of knights and ladies, glorious in old song, 400 
 
 White-handed Iseult, Launcelot of the Lake, 
 Chaste Perceval, that won the Sangreal quest. 
 But every where and in all parts alike 
 The Avenger held his post ; ah 1 heard his voice, 
 * Vemegan. t Verstegan.
 
 318 SAMOR, LORD OF [fiOOK XI. 
 
 All felt his presence, all obey'd his sway. 405 
 
 As western hurricane whirls up from earth, 
 
 And bears where'er it will, the loose-sheaf d corn, 
 
 The fluttering leaves, the shattered forest boughs, 
 
 Even so his spirit seiz'd and bore alpng, 
 
 And swept with it those proud brigades. Nor there 410 
 
 Was not young Malwyn, he his helmet wore 
 
 Light shadow'd by an eagle plume, so sued 
 
 His sire, lest in the wildering battle met 
 
 Their cars should clash in impious strife, nor sought 
 
 The father more obedience from the son, 415 
 
 For Britain and with Samor fiVd to war. 
 
 And in his brown and weather beaten arms 
 
 Came Vortimer, a pine-tree stem his mace 
 
 That clove the air with desultory sweep. 
 
 But by the river brows'd a single steed, 420 
 
 Sable as one of that poetic pair, 
 
 On the fair plain of Enna, in the yoke 
 
 
 
 Of Pluto, when Proserpina let fall 
 
 From her soft lap her flowers, and mourn'd their loss 
 
 Lavish, nor for herself reserved her tears. 425 
 
 The horseman, not unlike that ravisher, 
 
 Wore kingly aspect, and his step and mien
 
 BOOK XI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 
 
 Were as his realm were in a gloomier clime, 
 
 Amid a drearier atmosphere, 'mid things 
 
 Sluggish and melancholy, slow and dead. 430 
 
 As though disclaimed by each, and claiming none. 
 
 He lay with cold impartial apathy 
 
 Eying both armies, as their fates to him 
 
 Were equal, and not worth the toil of hope. 
 
 But over either army silence hung, 435 
 
 Silence long, heavy, deep, as every heart 
 Were busied with eternity ; all thoughts 
 Were bidding farewell to the Sun, whose rise 
 They saw, whose setting they might never see. 
 And all the heavens were thinly overdrawn 440 
 
 With light and golden clouds, as though to couch 
 The angels and the spirits floating there, 
 While heaven the lucid hierarchy pour'd forth 
 To view that solemn spectacle beneath, 
 A battle waged for freedom and for faith. 445 
 
 First rose a clamour and a crowding rush 
 On the hill side, and an half-stifled cry, 
 " The Prophetess ! the Prophetess P' was heard. 
 Upon a waggon, 'mid her idol Gods,
 
 320 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK XL 
 
 She of the seaTd lip and the haunted heart, 450 
 
 The aged Virgin* sate ; her thin gray hair 
 
 And hollow eyes in a strange sparkling steepM : 
 
 Twice in the memory of the oldest spake 
 
 Her voice, when Gothic Alaric had set 
 
 His northern ensign on Homers shattered walls, 455 
 
 That day along the linden shadow'd Elbe 
 
 She went, with bitter smile and broken song 
 
 That mock'd at grandeur falPn and pride in dust. 
 
 Once more, when Vortigern in that fam'd feast 
 
 Crown'd the fierce Hengist ; in the German woods 460 
 
 She roam'd with lofty and triumphal tone, 
 
 Shrieking of sceptres dancing in her sight, 
 
 And Woden's sons endiadem'd that rose 
 
 And swept and glitter'd past her. Now with eye 
 
 Restless, and churning lip she sate, and thrice 465 
 
 She mutter'd " Flight ! Flight I Flight ! Then look'd 
 
 she out 
 
 Upon the orient Sun, and cried, " Down ! down !" 
 Then westward turn'd she, and withdrew her hand, 
 
 * Vetere apud Germanos more, quo plerasque fcminarum fatidicas, et 
 augescente superstitione, arbitrantur deas. Tac. Hist. 461.
 
 OOK XI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 321 
 
 From dallying with her loose and hanging chin, 
 And beckoned to the faint remaining haze 470 
 
 Of twilight. " Back, fair darkness, beauteous gloom, 
 Back !" Still the Sun came on, the shades dispelTd. 
 Then rose she up, then on the vacant space 
 Between both armies fix'd her eye ; half laugh, 
 Half agony her cheek relax'd. " I see, 475 
 
 I see ye, ye Invisible ! I hear, 
 Soundless, I hear ye ! Choosers of the slain ! 
 Ye of the white forms hors'd on thunder clouds ! 
 Ye of Valhalla ! colourless as air, 
 
 As air impalpable ! wind on and urge 480 
 
 Your sable and self-govern'd steeds ; They come, 
 They whom your mantling hydromel awaits, 
 Whose cups are crown'd, the guests of this night's feast. 
 They come, they come, for whom the Gods shall leap 
 From their cloud thrones, and ask ye whom .ye bring 
 In stern troops crowding to their secret joy. 1 " 486 
 
 She shook her low dropt lip, and thus went on : 
 " The bow is broken, and the shafts are snapt ; 
 The lance is shivered, and the buckler rent ; 
 The helm is cloven, and the plumes are shed ; 490 
 
 Y
 
 322 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK XI. 
 
 The horse hath foundered, and the rider fallen ; 
 
 The Crowned are crownless, kingdomless the Kings ; 
 
 The Conquerors conquered, and the Slayers slain ; 
 
 One falls not, but he shall not stand, the axe 
 
 Shall glean tK 1 imperfect harvest of the sword; 495 
 
 The scaffold drinks the lees of battle's cup ; 
 
 And one is woundless amid myriad wounds, 
 
 And one is wounded where there is but one. 
 
 Ho, for the broad-horn 'd Elk that leads the herd ! 
 
 Ho, for the Pine that tops the shattering wood ! 500 
 
 Ho, for the Bark that Admirals ah 1 the fleet ! 
 
 The herd is scatter 'd, and the Elk unscath'd, 
 
 The wood is levelFd, upright is the Pine, 
 
 The fleet is wreck'd, the Admiral on the waves. 
 
 That Elk is in himself a sacrifice, 505 
 
 That Pine shall have a storm its own, that Bark 
 
 Shall perish in a solitary wreck, 
 
 A sacrifice of shame ! a storm of dread ! 
 
 A bitter ignominious solitude !"" 
 
 She had not ended, when a single steed 51O 
 
 Burst furious from the British line, with flight 
 That had a tread of air, and not of earth.
 
 BOOK XI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 323 
 
 Fierce and direct he whirl'd to the hot charge 
 
 His youthful Rider. Upright sate the Boy 
 
 Arthur, at first with half reverted look, 515 
 
 As to his mother to impart his joy, 
 
 His transport. Early, oh fame-destin'd Child, 
 
 Put'st thou thy sickle in the field of fame. 
 
 Over his head a dome of fiery darts 
 
 And cross-bow bolts vault o'er th' encumberM air. 520 
 
 Yet forward swept the child his rapid charge, 
 
 And all at once to rescue all the Chiefs 
 
 Rush'd onward : Uther's dragon seem'd to sear 
 
 The winds with its hot waving, Emrys struck 
 
 His coursers reeking flanks, his weapon huge 525 
 
 Reared Vortimer, and Malwyn's wheels 'gan whirl. 
 
 And on the other side Argantyr tall, 
 
 Hengist and Horsa, all the titled brave, 
 
 Burst from their tardy lines, that vast behind 
 
 Came rolling in tumultuous order on ; 530 
 
 As when at spring time under the cold pole 
 
 Two islands high of ice warp heavy and huge 
 
 Upon the contrary currents, first th' assault 
 
 The promontories break, till meet the whole
 
 324 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK XI. 
 
 With one long crash, that wakes the silence, there 535 
 Seated since time was born, far off and wide 
 Rock'd by the conflict fierce old ocean boils. 
 
 Still tli 1 upright Child seem'd only to rejoice 
 In the curvettings of his wanton steed, 
 And in the mingled dazzling of bright arms. 540 
 
 But over him a shield is spread, before 
 A sword is wav'd, on every side the shield 
 Dashes rude death aside, whirls every where 
 The rapid and unwearied sword ; the rein 
 Of the fleet steed hath Samor grasp'd, and guides 545 
 Amid the turmoil. As when the eagle sire 
 Up in the sunshine leads his daring young, 
 Sometimes the dusk shade of his wing spreads o'er, 
 And soft and broken in through the thick plumes 
 Gleams the unblinding splendour. So secure 550 
 
 Wag'd that fair Child his early war. But wild 
 The wavering fray rock'd to and fro, and burnt 
 Like one huge furnace the quick-flashing plain. 
 Ever as 'twere the same the Apostle saw 
 In the Apocalypse, Death's own pale steed, 555 
 
 Over the broad fight shook the White Horse, spread
 
 BOOK XI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 325 
 
 Where'er its gleaming lighten'd the dim gloom, 
 
 Steamy and vast the curdling slaughter pools. 
 
 And such confusion burst around of lines 
 
 Mingling and interchanging, Valour found 560 
 
 No space for proud selection, forc'd to strike 
 
 What cumber 'd and obstructed its free path, 
 
 To hew out through a mass of vulgar life 
 
 A passage to some princely foe ; twice met 
 
 
 
 Horsa and Vortimer, Argantyr twice 565 
 
 Smote at Pendragon, but the whirlpool fierce 
 
 Asunder swept them, and the deep of war 
 
 Swallow'd them ; many a broad and shapeless chasm 
 
 Was rent in either battle, but new fronts 
 
 Rush'd in, and made the shiver 'd surface whole. 570 
 
 The sun was shut out by a sphere of dust 
 
 That wrapt the tumult, "'twas no sight for Heaven 
 
 That rending and defacing its prime work, 
 
 That waste of man, its masterpiece. But far 
 
 Th" 1 Avenger had borne off the Child, his steed 575 
 
 First drew his breath before Igerna's tent. 
 
 With her soft face upon the dust she lay, 
 
 Struggling to hush her own lament, in hope
 
 326 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK XI. 
 
 From the fierce din of war might haply come 
 
 Some sound of cheer and comfort ; but when full 580 
 
 It rush'd upon her hearing, loud she shriek'd 
 
 To drown the very noise she strove to hear. 
 
 But when her Child's voice sounded, she look'd up 
 
 With a cold glance which said, " That sound I've heard 
 
 Every sad moment since he went, my soul 585 
 
 Is sick of self-deception, will not trust 
 
 Again, to be again beguil'd." She saw, 
 
 And forced a sportive look to her sad face 
 
 To lure him to her snowy arms. While he 
 
 Back to the battle, as a scene of joy, 590 
 
 Look'd waywardly, she clasp'd him to her breast 
 
 With a fond anger, and both smil'd and wept 
 
 A moment Samor gaz'd on her, and " All 
 
 All have their hopes, and all those hopes fulfilled, 
 
 But I, this side the grave no hope for me 595 
 
 And no fulfilment." Fast as sight could track 
 
 The battle felt him in its thousand folds. 
 
 But the undistinguish'd and chance-mingled fight 
 Brook'd not young Malwyn ; he his virgin shield 
 Disdain'd mean blood should stain: where Hengist fought
 
 BOOK XI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 327 
 
 He swept, the Saxon saw the eagle plume 601 
 
 And turn'd aloof, and on some other head 
 
 Discharg'd the blow for him uprear'd. But he 
 
 Next plunged where Horsa's star-like weapon shone, 
 
 Disastrous, shaking ruin, yet even that 605 
 
 Glanced aside from the eagle plume. The Boy 
 
 Utter'd a wrathful diappointed cry, 
 
 And 'gainst Argantyr drove his car. He paus'd, 
 
 And cried aloud, " The eagle plume," and plung'd 
 
 Elsewhere for victims. That Pendragon heard, 610 
 
 Even as he toiFd the third time to make way 
 
 Amid 1 the circling slain to the Anglian crest, 
 
 And taunting thus, " Methinks the eagle plume 
 
 Hath some few feathers of the dove, so soft 
 
 Spreads its peace-breathing influence."" But the Youth, 
 
 " Ha, Father ! thus, thus guil'st thou to a faint 616 
 
 And infamous security thy son ? 
 
 Thus enviest thou a noble foe ? thus guard'st 
 
 With a base privilege from peril ? Off, 
 
 Coward distinction ! off, faint-hearted sign ! * 
 
 Arid helm and plume away he rent, his hair 620 
 
 Curl'd down his shoulders, radiant on his brow
 
 328 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK XI, 
 
 The beauty of his anger shone, the pride 
 
 Of winning thus a right to glorious death. 
 
 Then set he forth on his bold quest again 625 
 
 Impatient. Him Prince Vortimer beheld 
 
 Sweeping between himself and Horsa, met 
 
 Their sea-shore fight by Thanet to renew ; 
 
 But something of his sister in his face, 
 
 Something of Lilian hardened and grown fierce, 630 
 
 As that ungodly creed were true, and she 
 
 Familiar to rude deeds of blood, had come 
 
 One of Valhalla's airy sisters hence 
 
 To summon him she lov'd. That gleam of her, 
 
 That though ungentle and unfeminine touch, 635 
 
 Exquisite, in 'mid air his rugged mace 
 
 Suspended ; but fierce Horsa on the Boy, 
 
 Just on his neck let fall the fatal spikes, 
 
 And him the affrighted steeds bore off. But then 
 
 Began a combat over which Death seem'd 640 
 
 To hover, as of one assured, in hope 
 
 Of both for victims at his godless shrine. 
 
 Then wounded and bareheaded Malwyn urged 
 On Hengist his remastered steeds, the scythe
 
 BOOK XI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 329 
 
 RasM his majestic war horse. But aside 645 
 
 He sprung, and flankM the chariot ; long the strife, 
 
 Long, though unequal, like a serpent's tongue 
 
 Vibrated Malwyn's battle axe, twice bow'd 
 
 The Monarch to his saddle bow. 'Twas fame 
 
 More splendid, thus with Hengist to have fought 650 
 
 Than to have conquer'd hosts of meaner men. 
 
 Heavy at length and fatal glided in 
 
 The wily Chief s eluding falchion stroke ; 
 
 Fast flew the steeds, the master lay behind, 
 
 Dragging with his face downward, still the reins 655 
 
 Cling in his cold and failing fingers, trail 
 
 His neck and spread locks in the humid dust, 
 
 His sharp arms character the yielding sand. 
 
 On fly they, him at length deserting mute 
 
 And gasping on the bank, their hot hoofs plunge 660 
 
 Into the limpid Dune, and to the wood 
 
 Rove on. It chancM erewhile that thither came 
 
 To freshen with the water his spent steeds, 
 
 And lave the clogging carnage from his wheels, 
 
 Caswallon, he his huge and weary length 665 
 
 Cast for brief rest upon the bank ; a groan
 
 330 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK XI. 
 
 Came from a helmless head that in the grass 
 
 Lay undistinguished. " Tis a Briton," cried 
 
 Caswallon, " cast the carrion off to feed 
 
 The dogs and kites, that thus irreverent breaks 670 
 
 Upon its monarch's rest." Even as a flower, 
 
 Poppy or hyacinth, on its broken stem, >.;f .. 
 
 Languidly raises its encumbered head, 
 
 And turns it to the gentle evening sun, 
 
 So feebly rose, so turned that Boy his face 675 
 
 Unto the well-known voice ; twice rais'd his head, 
 
 Twice it fell back in powerless heaviness ; 
 
 Even at that moment from the dark wood came, 
 
 Lured by their partners in the stall and fi eld, 
 
 His chariot coursers, heavily behind 680 
 
 Dragging the vacant car, loose hung the reins, 
 
 And mournfulness and dull disorder slack'd 
 
 The spirit of their tread. Caswallon knew, 
 
 And he leaped up ; the Boy his bloodless lips 
 
 With a long effort opened. " Was it well, 685 
 
 Father, at this my first, my earliest fight, ,f ? .,.;, 
 
 To mock me with a baffled hope of fame ? 
 
 Well was it to defraud me of my right
 
 BOOK XI. J THE BRIGHT CITY. 331 
 
 To noble death ?" and speaking thus he died. 
 
 Above him his convuls'd unconscious hands 690 
 
 Horribly with his rough black beard at play, 
 Wrenching and twisting off the rooted locks, 
 Yet senseless of the pain, the Father lean'd. 
 Then leap'd he up, with cool and jealous care 
 Within his chariot placed the lifeless corpse, 695 
 
 And with his lash fierce rent the half-unyoked 
 Half-harness'd steeds ; disorderly and swift 
 As with their master's ire instinct they flew, 
 Making a wide road through the hurtling fray. 
 Briton or Saxon, friend or foe alike, 700 
 
 Kinsman or stranger, one wide enmity 
 'Gainst general humankind, one infinite 
 And undistinguishing lust of carnage fill'd 
 The Master and the Horses ; so wild groans 
 Followed wherever he moved, 'twas all to him, 795 
 
 So slaughter dripp'd and reeked from the chok\l scythes. 
 The low lay mow^d like the spring grass, down swept 
 On th' eminent, like lightning on the oaks, 
 His battle axe, each time it fell, each time 
 A life was gone, each time a hideous laugh 710
 
 332 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK XI. 
 
 Shone on the Slayer's cheek and writhing lip ; 
 
 As in the Oriental wars where meet 
 
 Sultan and Omrah, under his broad tower 
 
 Moves stately the huge Elephant, a shaft 
 
 Haply casts down his friendly rider, wont Jl '* fi fib 
 
 To lead him to the tank, whose children shared 
 
 With him their feast of fruits : awhile he droops 
 
 Affectionate his loose and moaning trunk : 
 
 Then in his grief and vengeance bursts, and bears 
 
 In his feet's trampling rout and disarray J2() 
 
 To either army, ranks give way, and troops 
 
 Scatter, while swaying on his heaving back 
 
 His tottering tower, he shakes the sandy plain. 
 
 Meanwhile had risen a conflict high and fierce 
 
 For Britain's royal banner ; Hengist here, 725 
 
 Argantyr, the Vikinger, Hermingard, 
 
 And other Chiefs. But there th' Armoric King, 
 
 Emrys and Uther, with the Avenger stood, 
 
 An iron wall against their inroad ; turn'd 
 
 Samor 'gainst him at distance heard and seen, 730 
 
 The car-borne Mountaineer, then Uther met 
 
 Argantyr, Hengist and King Emrys fought,
 
 BOOK XI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 333 
 
 The rest o'erbore King Hoel ; one had slain 
 
 The standard bearer, and all arms at once 
 
 Seiz'd as it fell, all foreign and all foes. 735 
 
 When lo, that sable Warrior, that retir'd 
 
 And careless had look'd on, upon his steed 
 
 And in the battle, like a thundercloud 
 
 He came, and like a thundercloud he burst, 
 
 Black, cold, and sullen, conquering without pride 740 
 
 And slaying without triumph ; three that graspM 
 
 The standard came at once to earth, while he 
 
 Over his head with kingly motion sway'd 
 
 The bright redeemed ensign, and as fell 
 
 The shaken sunlight radiant o'er his brow, 745 
 
 Pride came about him, and with voice like joy 
 
 He cried aloud, " Aries ! Aries !" and shook his sword, 
 
 " Thou'st won me once a royal crown, and now 
 
 Shalt win a royal sepulchre," The sword 
 
 Perform'd its fatal duty, down they fell 750 
 
 Before him, Jute and Saxon, nameless men 
 
 And Chieftains; what though wounds he scorn 'd to ward, 
 
 Nor seem'd to feel, showYd on him, and his blood 
 
 Ooz'd manifest, still he slew, still cried, " Aries ! Aries !"
 
 334 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK XI. 
 
 Still in the splendour thewav'd standard spread 755 
 
 Stood glorying the arm'd darkness of his form ; 
 
 Stood from his wounded steed dismounted, stood 
 
 Amid an area of dead men, himself 
 
 About to die, none daring an assault, 
 
 He powerless of assailing. But the crown 
 
 That on the flag-staff gleanVd, he wrench'd away, 
 
 And on his crest with calm solicitude 
 
 Plac'd it, then planting 'mid the high-heaped slain 
 
 The standard, to o'ercanopy his sleep, 
 
 As one upon his nightly couch of down 765 
 
 Composes quietly his weary head, 
 
 So royally he laid him down to die. 
 
 But now was every fight broke off, a pause 
 Seiz'd all the battle, one vast silence quenched 
 All tumult ; slain and slayer, life and death 77 
 
 Possessed one swoon of torpor, droop'd and faiFd 
 All passions, pride, wrath, vengeance, hate, dismay, 
 All was one wide astonishment : alone 
 Two undistracted on each other gazed, 
 Where helpless in their death-blood they lay steep'd, 7/5 
 The ebbing of each other's life, the stiff
 
 BOOK XI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 335 
 
 Damp growing on of death ; till in a groan 
 
 Horsa exhausted his fierce soul : then came 
 
 A momentary tinge, soft and subdued 
 
 As of affections busy at his heart, 780 
 
 On Vortimer's expiring brow, his lip 
 
 Wore something of the curl men's use, when names 
 
 BeWd are floating o'er the thought, the flowers 
 
 On that lone grave made fragrant his sick sense, 
 
 And Eamont murmured on his closing ear. 785 
 
 But he, whose coming cast this silence on 
 Before it, as the night its widening shade, 
 Curtaining nature in its soundless pall, 
 An atmosphere of dying breath, where'er 
 He moved, his drear envelopment, his path 790 
 
 An element of blood : so fleet, so fast 
 The power to fly seeni'd wither'd, ere he came, 
 Men laid them down and said their prayers and looked 
 For the quick plunging hoofs and rushing scythes : 
 As when the palsied Universe aghast 795 
 
 Lay, all its tenants, even Man, restless Man, 
 In all his busy workings mute and still, 
 When drove, so poets sing, the Sun-born youth 
 Devious through heaven's affrighted signs, his Sire's
 
 336 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK XI. 
 
 Ill-granted chariot, him the Thunderer hurl'd 800 
 
 From th' empyrean headlong to the gulph 
 
 Of the half-parch'd Eridanus, where weep 
 
 Even now the Sister Trees their amber tears 
 
 O'er Phaeton untimely dead. And now 
 
 Had the Avenger reach'd the path of death, 805 
 
 And stood in arms before the steeds, they came 
 
 Rearing their ireful hoofs to dash him down ; 
 
 But with both hands he seized their foaming curbs, 
 
 Holding them in their spring with outstretch'd arm 
 
 Aloft, and made their lifted crests a shield 810 
 
 Against their driver. He with baffled lash 
 
 Goaded their quivering flanks, but that strong arm 
 
 Held them above avoiding, their fore-hoofs 
 
 Beat th' unhurt air, and overspread his breast, 
 
 Like a thick snow-shower, the fast falling foam, 815 
 
 Then leap'd Caswallon down, back Samor hurl'd 
 
 Coursers and chariot, and, " Now," cried aloud, 
 
 " Now, King of Britain, in the name of God 
 
 I tender thee a throne, two yards of earth 
 
 To rot on, and a diadem, a wreath 820 
 
 Of death-drops for thy haught aspiring brow. 
 
 " There, there, look there," Caswallon cried, his hand
 
 Xl.J THE BRIGHT CITY. 337 
 
 Stretched tow'rd his son, and in a frantic laugh 
 Broke out, and echoed, " Diadems and thrones !"" 
 With rigid finger pointing at the dead. 825 
 
 A moment, and the fury burst again ; 
 Down came the ponderous battle axe, from edge 
 To edge it rived the tempered brass, as swift 
 As shot-stars the thin ether ; but the glaive 
 Of Samor right into his bosom smote. 830 
 
 Like some old turret, under whose broad shade 
 At summer noon the shepherd oft his flock 
 Hath driven, and in the friendly cool rejoic'd, 
 Suddenly, violently, from its base 
 
 Pushed by the winter floods, he fell ; his look 835 
 
 Yet had its savage blasphemy : he felt 
 More than the blow, the deadly blow, the cries 
 Of joy and triumph from each army sent, 
 Vaunting and loud ; to him to die was nought, 
 He could not brook the shame of being slain, 840 
 
 But other thoughts arose ; hardly he crept 
 To where dead Malwyn from the car hung down, 
 Felt on his face the cold depending hand, 
 And with a smile half joy, half anguish died.
 
 338 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK 
 
 Th' Avenger knelt, his heart too full for prayer, 845 
 Knelt, and held up his conquering sword to heaven, 
 Yet spake not. But the battle, as set free, 
 Its rugged game renew'd, nor equal now 
 Nor now unbroken, Flight and shameful Rout 
 Here scattered, Victory there and Pride arrayed, 850 
 And mass^l in comely files and full square troops 
 Bore onward. Mountaineer and German break 
 Around the hill foot, and like ebbing waves 
 Disperse away. Argantyr, Hengist move 
 In the recoiling flood reluctant. Them 855 
 
 Nought more resembled, than two mountain bulls 
 Driven by the horse and dog and hunter spear, 
 Still turning with huge brow and tearing up 
 The deep earth with their wrathful stooping horns. 
 
 But as the hill was opened, from the top 860 
 
 Even to the base arose a shriek and scream, 
 As when some populous Capital besieg'd, 
 Sees yawning her wide-breached wall, and all 
 Her shattered bulwarks on the earth, so wild, 
 So dissonant the female rout appeared 865 
 
 Hanging with fierce disturbance the hill side.
 
 XI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 339 
 
 Some with rent hair ran to and fro, some stood 
 
 With silent mocking lip, some softly prest 
 
 Their infants to their heart, some held them forth 
 
 As to invite the foe, and for them sued 870 
 
 The mercy of immediate slaughter. Some 
 
 Spake fiercely of past deeds of fame, some sang 
 
 In taunting tone old songs of victory. Wives 
 
 With eye imploring and quick heaving breast 
 
 Look'd sad allusions to endearments past ; 875 
 
 Mothers, all bashfulness cast down, rent down 
 
 Their garments, to their sons displaying bare 
 
 The fountains of their infant nourishment, 
 
 Now ready to be ploughed with murtherous swords. 
 
 Some knelt before their cold deaf Gods, some scoff'd 
 
 With imprecation blasphemous and shrill 88 1 
 
 Their stony and unwakening thunders. Noise 
 
 Not fiercer on Cithaeron side, th' affright 
 
 Not drearier, when the Theban Bacchic rout, 
 
 Their dashing cymbals white with moonshine, loose 885 
 
 Their tresses bursting from their ivy crowns, 
 
 And purple with enwoven vine-leaves, led 
 
 Their orgies dangerous. In the midst the Queen
 
 340 SAMOR, LORD OP [BOOK 
 
 Agave shook the misdeenTd Lion's head 
 
 Aloft, and laugh 'd and danc'd and sung, nor knew 890 
 
 That lion suckled at her own white breast. 
 
 But Elfelin the Prophetess her seat 
 Changed not, nor the near horror could recall 
 Her eye from its strange commerce with th' unseen ; 
 There had she been, there had she been in smiles 895 
 All the long battle ; just before the spear 
 Or falchion drank a warrior's life-blood, she 
 Audible, as an high-tribunal'd judge, 
 Spake out his name, and aye her speech was doom. 
 
 Nor long the overbearing flight enwrapt thy strength, 
 Argantyr ! thou amid the shattering wreck 90 1 
 
 Didst rise, as in some ruinous city old, 
 Babylon or Palmyra, magic built, 
 A single pillar yet with upright shaft 
 Stands, 'mid the wide prostration" mossy and flat, 905 
 Shewing more eminent. Past the Saxon by, 
 And looked and wondered, even that he delayed ; 
 Cried his own Anglians " King, away, away !" 
 First came King Hoel on, whose falchion clove 
 His buckler, with a wrest he burst in twain 910
 
 THE BRIGHT CITY. 341 
 
 The shivering steel ; came Emrys next, aside 
 His misaim'd blow he shook ; last Uther, him 
 His war horse, by Argantyr's beam-like spear 
 Then first appall'd, bore in vain anger past. 
 
 From his late victory in proud breathlessness 9 1 5 
 Slow came the Avenger, but Argantyr rais'd 
 A cry of furious joy, " Long sought, late found, 
 I charge thee, by our last impeded fight, 
 I charge thee, give me back mine own, my sword 
 Is weary of its bathes of vulgar blood, 920 
 
 And longs in nobler streams to plunge ; with thine 
 I'll gild and hang it on my Father's grave, 
 And his helm'd ghost in Woden's hall shall vaunt 
 The glories of his son." " Generous and brave, 
 When last we met, I shrunk to see my sword 925 
 
 Bright with God's sunlight, now with dauntless hand 
 I lift it, and cry On, in the name of God." 
 
 They met, they strove, as with a cloud enwrapt 
 In their own majesty ; their motions gave 
 Terror even to their shadows ; round them spread 930 
 Attention like a sleep. Flight paus'd, Pursuit 
 Caught up its loose rein, Death his furious work
 
 342 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK 
 
 CcasM, and a dreary respite gave to souls 
 
 Half parted; on their elbows reared them up 
 
 The dying, with faint effort holding ope 935 
 
 Their dropping eyelids, homage of delight 
 
 War from its victims thus exacting. Mind 
 
 And body engross'd the conflict. Men were seen 
 
 At distance, for in their peculiar sphere, 
 
 Within the wind and rush of their quick arms 940 
 
 None ventur'd, following with unconscious limbs 
 
 Their blows, and shrinking as themselves were struck. 
 
 Like scatter 'd shiverings of a scath'd oak lay 
 
 Fragments of armour round them, the hard brass 
 
 Gave way, and broke the fiery temper 'd steel, 945 
 
 The stronger metal of the human soul, 
 
 Valour, endur'd, and power thrice purified 
 
 In Danger's furnace faiPd not. Victory, tired 
 
 Of wavering, to those passive instruments, 
 
 Look'd to decide her long suspense. Behold 950 
 
 Argantyr's falchion, magic wrought, his sires 
 
 So fabled, by the Asgard dwarfs, nor hewn 
 
 From earthly mines, nor dipp"d in earthly fires, 
 
 Broke short. Th' ancestral steel the Anglians saw,
 
 XI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 343 
 
 Sign of their Kings, and worship of their race, 955 
 
 Give way, and waiFd and shriek'd aloud. The King 
 Collected all his glory as a pall 
 To perish in, and sconTd his sworded foe 
 To mock with vain defence of unarm'd hand. 
 The exultation and fierce throb of hope 960 
 
 Yet had not passed away, but look'd to death 
 As it had look'd to conquest, death so well, 
 So bravely earn'd to warrior fair as life : 
 Stern welcoming, bold invitation lured 
 To its last work the Conqueror's sword. Him flush'd 
 The pride of Conquest, vengeance long delay'd, 966 
 Th' exalted shame of victory won so slow, 
 So toilsomely ; all fiery passions, all 
 Tumultuous sense-intoxicating powers 
 Conspir'd with their wild anarchy beset 9/0 
 
 His despot soul. But he " Ah, faithless sword, 
 To me as to thy master faithless, him 
 Naked at his extreme to leave, and me 
 To guile of this occasion fair to win 
 Honour or death from great Argantyr's arm." 9/5 
 
 (t Christian, thy God is mightiest, scorn not thou
 
 344 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK 
 
 His bounty, nor with dalliance mock thy hour- 
 Strike and consummate !" " Anglian yes, my God, 
 Th' Almighty, is the mightiest now and ever, 
 Because I scorn him not, I will not strike." 980 
 
 So saying, he his sword cast down. " Thus, thus 
 Warr'st thou ?" the Anglian cried, " then thou hast won. 
 I, I Argantyr yield me, other hand 
 Had tempted me in vain with that base boon 
 Which peasants prize and women weep for, life : 985 
 To lord o'er dead Argantyr fate might grant, 
 He only grants to vanquish him alive, 
 Only to thee, well nanVd Avenger !" Then 
 The Captive and the Conqueror th' armies saw 
 Gazing upon each other with the brow 990 
 
 Of high arch'd admiration ; o'er the field 
 From that example flow'd a noble scorn 
 Of slaughtering the defenceless, mercy slak'd 
 The ardour of the fight. As the speck'd birch 
 After a shower, with th' odour of its bark 995 
 
 Freshens the circuit of the rain-bright grove ; 
 Or as the tender argent of Love's star 
 Smiles to a lucid quiet the wild sky :
 
 XI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 345 
 
 So those illustrious rivals with the light 
 
 Of their high language and heroic act 1000 
 
 Cast a nobility o'er all the war. 
 
 That capture took a host, none scorn'd to yield, 
 
 So loftily Argantyr wore the garb 
 
 Of stern surrender, none inclined to slay, 
 
 When Samor held the signal up to spare. 1005 
 
 But where the Lord of that dire falchion nam'd 
 The Widower of Women ? He, the Chief 
 Whose arms were squadrons, whose assault the shock 
 Of hosts advancing ? Hath the cream-blanch'd steed, 
 Whom the outstripped winds pant after, borne away 
 His master, yet with hope uncheck'd, and craft 1011 
 Unbaffled, th n equal conflict to renew ? 
 Fast flew the horse, and fierce the rider spurr'd, 
 That horse that all the day remorseless went 
 O'er dead and dying, all that Hengist slew 1015 
 
 All he cast down before him. Lo, he checks 
 Suddenly, startingly, with ears erect, 
 Thick tremor oozing out from every pore, 
 His broad chest palpitating, the thick foam 
 Lazily gathering on his dropping lip : 1020
 
 346 SAMOR, LORD OF [fiOOK 
 
 The pawing of his uplift forefoot chill'd 
 To a loose hanging quiver. Nor his Lord 
 Less horror seiz'd ; slack trembled in his left 
 The bridle, with his right hand dropt his sword, 
 Dripp'd slowly from its point the flaking blood 1 025 
 Of hundreds, this day fall'n beneath its edge. 
 
 For lo, descended the hill side, stood up 
 Right in his path the Prophetess, and held 
 With a severe compassion both her arms 
 Over her head, and thus " It cannot be, 1 030 
 
 IVe cried unto the eagle, air hath none ; 
 I've sued unto the fleet and bounding deer, 
 IVe sought unto the sly and mining snake;. 
 There's none above the earth, beneath the earth, 
 No flight, no way, no narrow obscure way. 1035 
 
 IVe call'd unto the lightning, as it leaped 
 Along heaven's verge, it cannot guide thee forth ; 
 IVe beckon'd to the dun and pitchy gloom, 
 It cannot shroud thee; to the caves of earth 
 IVe wail'd and shriek'd, they cannot chamber thee." 
 
 He spoke not, mov'd not, strove not : man and steed, 
 Like some Equestrian marble in the courts 1042
 
 XI.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 347 
 
 Of Emperors ; that fierce eye whose wisdom keen 
 Pierc'd the dark depths of counsel, hawk-like roved, 
 Seizing the unutter'd thoughts from out men's souls, 
 Wrought order in the battle's turbulent fray 1046 
 
 By its command, on the aged Woman's face 
 Fix'd like a moonstruck idiot. She upright 
 With strength beyond her bow'd and shrivelFd limbs 
 Still stood, and murmur'd low, " Why com'st thou not, 
 Thou of the Vale ? thou fated, come ! come ! come !" 
 The foes overtook, he lookM not round, their tramp 
 Was round him, still he movM not ; violent hands 
 Seized on him, still the enchanted falchion hung 
 Innocent as a feather by his side. 1055 
 
 They tore him from his steed, still clung his eyes 
 On her disastrous face ; she fiercely shriek'd 
 Half pride at her accomplish'd prophecy, 
 Half sorrow at Erie Hengist's fall, then down 
 Upon the stone that bore her, she fell dead. 1060
 
 348 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK 
 
 
 BOOK XII. 
 
 OH Freedom, of our social Universe 
 
 The Sun, that feedest from thy urn of light 
 
 The starry commonwealth, from those mean lamps 
 
 Modestly glimmering in their sphere retir'd, 
 
 Even to the plenar and patrician orbs, & 
 
 That in their rich nobility of light, 
 
 Or golden royalty endiadenVd, 
 
 Their mystic circle undisturb'd round thee 
 
 Move musical ; but thou thy central state 
 
 Preserving, equably the fair-rank'd whole 10 
 
 In dutiful magnificence maintain'st, 
 
 And stately splendour of obedience. Earth 
 
 Wonders, th' approval of th 1 Almighty beams 
 
 Manifest in the glory of the work.
 
 XII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 349 
 
 Though sometimes drown'd within the red eclipse 1 5 
 
 Of tyranny, or brief whiie by the base 
 
 And marshy exhalations of low vice 
 
 And popular license maddened thou hast flash'd 
 
 Disastrous and intolerable fire ; 
 
 Yet ever mounting hast thou still march'd on 20 
 
 To thy meridian throne. My waxen wing 
 
 Oh, quenchless luminary ! may not soar 
 
 To that thy dazzling and overpowering noon; 
 
 Rather the broken glimpses of thy dawn 
 
 Visiteth, when thy orient Overcast 25 
 
 A promise and faint foretaste of its light 
 
 Beam'd forth, then plung'd its cloud-slak'd front in gloom 
 
 Even with such promise dost thou now adorn 
 Thy chosen city by the Thames, where holds 
 Victorious Emrys his high Judgment court. 30 
 
 Thither the long ovation hath he led. 
 Amid the solemn music of rent chains, 
 The rapture of deliverance ; where he past 
 Earth brightening, and the face of man but now 
 Brow-sear'd with the deep brand of servitude, 35 
 
 To its old upright privilege restor'd
 
 350 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK 
 
 Of gazing on its kindred heaven. The towns 
 
 Gladden'd amid their ruins, churches shook 
 
 With throngs of thankful votaries,* till "'twas fear 
 
 Transport might finish Desolation's work, 40 
 
 And bliss precipitate the half mouldered walls. 
 
 'Tis fam\l, men died for joy, untimely births 
 
 Were frequent, as the eager mothers prest 
 
 To show their infants to the brightening world. 
 
 They that but now beheld the bier-borne dead 45 
 
 With miserable envy, past them by 
 
 Contemptuously pitying, as too soon 
 
 Departed from this highly gifted earth. 
 
 So they the Trinobantine City reach'd. 
 
 Without the walls, close by the marge of Thames, 50 
 
 The synod of the Conquerors met ; a place 
 
 Solemn and to the soul discoursing high. 
 
 Here broad the bridgeless Thames, even like themselves 
 
 Thus at their flush and high tide of renown, 
 
 S well'd his exulting waters. There all waste 55 
 
 * Then did Aurelius Ambrosius put the Saxons out of all other parts of 
 the laud, and repaired such cities, towns, and also churches, as by them 
 bad been destroyed or defaced, &c. Holl. Book 6. Chap. 8.
 
 XII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 351 
 
 The royal cemetery of Britain lay, 
 The monuments, like their cold tenantry, 
 Mouldering, above all ruin as beneath, 
 A wide profound, drear sameness of decay. 
 Upon the Church of Christ had heavily fallen 60 
 
 The Pagan desolation, hung the doors 
 Loose on their broken and disused hinge, 
 And grass amid the checquer'd pavement squares 
 Was springing, and along the vacant choir 
 The shrill wind was God's only worshipper. 65 
 
 Even where they met, through the long years have sate 
 In Parliament our nation's high and wise. 
 There have deep thoughts been pondered, strong designs 
 On which the fate of the round world hath hung. 
 Thence have the emanating rays of truth, 70 
 
 Freedom, and constancy, and holiness 
 Flow'd in their broad beneficence, no bound 
 Owning but that which limits this brief earth, 
 Brightening this misty state of man ; the winds 
 That thence bear mandates to th' inconstant thrones ?5 
 Of Europe, to the realms of th' orient Sun, 
 Or to the new and ocean-sever'd earth,
 
 352 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK 
 
 Or to the Southern cocoa-feather'd isles, 
 Are welcome, as pure gales of health and joy. 
 Still that deep dwelling underneath the earth 80 
 
 Its high and ancient privilege maintains, 
 Dark palace of our island's parted Kings, 
 Earth-ciel'd pavilion of our brave and wise, 
 Whose glory ere it swept them off, hath cast 
 A radiance on the scythe of Death. Disus'd 85 
 
 For two long heathen ages, it became 
 The pavement of our sumptuous minster fair, 
 That ever and anon yet gathers in 
 King, Conqu'ror, Poet, Orator, or Sage 
 To her stone chambers, there to sleep the sleep 90 
 
 That wakens only at the Archangel's trump. 
 First in the synod rose King Emrys ; he 
 The royal sword of justice from his side 
 Ungirding, plac'd it in the Avenger's hand, 
 And led him to the judgment-seat. He shrunk, 95 
 And offered back the solemn steel." Oh ! King, 
 Judge and Avenger ! who shall reconcile 
 The discord of those titles, private wrongs 
 Will load my partial arm, and drag to earth
 
 XII ] THE BRIGHT CITY. 353 
 
 The unsteady balance. Only God can join 100 
 
 And blend in one the Injure! and the Judge." 
 
 But as a wave lifts up and bears along 
 
 A stately bark, so the acclamation swell 
 
 Floated into the high Tribunal throne 
 
 Reluctant Samor : on his right the King 105 
 
 Sate sceptered, royal Uther on the left. 
 
 While all around the assembled Nation bask'd 
 
 In his effulgent presence. 'Twas a boast 
 
 In after ages this day to have seen 
 
 Him whom all throng'd to see; memory of him, 110 
 
 Every brief notice of his mien and height 
 
 Became an heir-loom ; mothers at the font 
 
 Gave to their babes his name, and e'er that child 
 
 Was held the staff and honour of the race. 
 
 So met the Nation in their judgment Hall, 115 
 
 Its pavement was the sacred mother earth, 
 Its roof the crystal and immortal heavens. 
 
 Then forth the captives came, Argantyr first, 
 Even with his wonted loftiness of tread : 
 Nature's rich heraldry upon his brow 120 
 
 Emblazing him of those whose scorn the world 
 
 A a
 
 354 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK 
 
 Bears unashanTd, by whom to be despised 
 
 Is no abasement. Men's eyes rang'd from him 
 
 To Samor, back to him in wonder now 
 
 Of conquest o'er such mighty foe, now lost 125 
 
 The wonder in their kindred Conqueror's pride. 
 
 Then said the Anglian " Wherefore lead ye here ?" 
 
 The sternness of his questioning appall'd 
 
 All save the Judge. " What Briton," he replied, 
 
 " Witnesseth aught against the Anglian Chief?"" 130 
 
 Thereat was proclamation, East and West 
 
 And North and South : the silent winds came back 
 
 With wings unloaded : so that noble mien 
 
 Wrought conquest o'er man's darkest passions, hate, 
 
 And doubt, and terror, so the Captive cast 135 
 
 His yoke on every soul, and harness'd it 
 
 Unto his valiant spirit's chariot wheels. 
 
 Then spake the stately and tribunal'd Judge 
 " Anglian Argantyr ! Britain is not wont 
 T' inflict upon a fair and open foe ] 40 
 
 Aught penal but defeat ; her warfare bows 
 Beneath her feet but tramples not ; her throne 
 Hath borne the stormy brunt of thy assault,
 
 XII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 
 
 And dash'd it off, and thus she saith, " Return, 
 
 Return unto thy German woods, nor more, 1 4 5 
 
 Once baffled, vex our coasts with fruitless war. 
 
 And thy return shall be to years remote 
 
 Our bond and charter of security ; 
 
 A shudder and cold trembling at our name 
 
 Shall pass with thee, the land that hath spurned back 150 
 
 Argantyr's march of victory, shall be known 
 
 T' eternal freedom consecrate. Your ships 
 
 Shall plough our seas, but turn their timorous prows 
 
 Aloof, while on the deck the Sea King points 
 
 To our white cliffs, and saith ' The Anglian thence 155 
 
 Retreated, shun the unconquerable shore." 1 
 
 " So nevermore shall my hot warhorsc bathe 
 
 In British waters, nor my falchion meet 
 
 The bold resistance of a British steel, 
 
 So wills the Conqueror, thus the Conquer'd swears." 160 
 
 Thus spake Argantyr ; sudden then and swift 
 Loftier shot up his brow, prophetic hues 
 Swam o'er his agitated features, words 
 Came with a rush and instantaneous flow. 
 
 " I tell thee, Briton, that thy sons and mine 165
 
 356 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK 
 
 Shall be two meeting and conflicting tides, 
 Whose fierce relentless enmity shall lash 
 This land into a whirlpool deep and wide, 
 To swallow in its vast insatiate gulph 
 Her peace and smooth felicity, till flow 1 70 
 
 Their waters reconcil'd in one broad bed, 
 Briton and Anglian one in race and name. 
 'Tis written in the antient solemn Runes, 
 'Tis spoken by prophetic virgin lips. 
 Avenger, thou and I our earthly wars 1 75 
 
 Have ended, but my spirit yet shall hold 
 Noble, inexorable strife with thine. 
 It shall heave off its barrow, burst its tomb, 
 And to my sons discourse of glorious foes 
 In this rich Island to be met : my shade 180 
 
 Shall cross them in their huntings, it shall walk 
 The ocean paths, and on the winds, and seize 
 Their prows, and fill their sails, and all its voice 
 And all its secret influences urge 
 
 To the White Isle ;* their slumbers shall not rest, 185 
 
 >J 
 
 * The Welsh called it Inis Wen, the White Island. Speed, B. 5. C. 2. 
 Some derive Britain from Pryd Cain Beauty and White, ibid.
 
 XII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 357 
 
 Their quiet shall be weariness, till lulTd 
 Upon the pillow of success repose 
 The high, the long hereditary feud. v 
 
 So saying, he the bark that lay prepared 
 With sail unfurl'd, ascended. She went forth 190 
 
 Momently with quick shadow the blue Thames 
 Darkening, then leaving on its breast a light 
 Like silver. The fix'd eyes of wondering men 
 Track'd his departure, while with farewell gleam 
 The bright Sun shone upon his brow, and seem'd 195 
 A triumph in the motion of the stream ; 
 So loftily upon its long slow ebb 
 It bore that honour-laden bark. Nor pause, 
 Lo, in the presence of the Judgment Court 
 The second Criminal ; pride had not pass'd 200 
 
 Nor majesty from his hoar brow ; he stood 
 With all except the terror of despair, 
 Consciously in fatality's strong bonds 
 Manacled, of the coming death assured, 
 Yet fronting the black future with a look 205 
 
 Obdurate even to scornfulness. He seem'd 
 As he heard nought, as though his occupied ears
 
 358 SAMOR, LORD OF [fiOOK 
 
 Were pervious to no sound, since that dim voice 
 
 Of her who speaking died, the silver haired, 
 
 The Prophetess, that never spake untrue: 210 
 
 As ever with a long unbroken flow 
 
 Her song was ranging through his brain, and struck 
 
 Its death-knoll on his soul. Nor change had come 
 
 Since that drear hour to eye or cheek ; the craft, 
 
 The wisdom that was wont to make him lord 
 
 Over the shifting pageant of events, 
 
 Had given its trust up to o'er-ruling fate, 
 
 And that stern Paramount, Necessity, 
 
 Had seal'd him for her own. Amid them all 
 
 He tow Yd, as when the summer thunderbolt 220 
 
 'Mid a rich fleet some storm-accustomed bark 
 
 Hath stricken, round her the glad waters dance, 
 
 Her sails are full, her strong prow fronts the waves ; 
 
 But works within the irrevocable doom, 
 
 Wells up her secret hold th 1 inundant surge, 225 
 
 And th' heavy waters weigh her slowly down. 
 
 For the arraignment made the Judge a sign, 
 And the first witness was a mighty cry, 
 As 'twere the voice of the whole Isle, as hills
 
 XII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 359 
 
 And plains and waters their abhorrence spake ; 230 
 
 Hoarse harmony of imprecation seem'd 
 
 To break the ashy sleep of ruin'd towns, 
 
 And th' untomb'd slumbers of far battle vales. 
 
 As if the crowd about the Judgment Court 
 
 Did only with articulate voice repeat 235 
 
 What indistinct came down on every wind. 
 
 Then all the near, the distant, sank away, 
 
 Only a low and melancholy tone, 
 
 Like a far music down a summer stream 
 
 RemainM ; upon the lull'd, nor panting air 240 
 
 Fell that smooth snow of sound, till nearer now 
 
 It swell'd, as clearer water-falls are heard 
 
 When midnight grows more still. A funeral hymn, 
 
 It pourM the rapture of its sadness out, 
 
 Even like a sparkling soporific wine. 245 
 
 But now and then broke from its low long fall, 
 
 Something of martial and majestic swell, 
 
 That spake its mourning o'er no vulgar dead. 
 
 Lo to the royal burying place, chance borne 
 Even at this solemn time, or so ordain'd 250 
 
 From their bright-scutcheon'd biers their part to bear
 
 360 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK 
 
 In this arraignment, came King Vortigern, 
 And th' honour'd ashes of his Son But still 
 And voiceless these cold witnesses past on, 
 Unto the place of tombs. Along the Thames 
 Far floated into silence the spent hymn : 
 And one accusing sound arose from them, 
 The heavy falling of their earth to earth. 
 
 One female mourner came behind the King, 
 Half of her face the veil concealed, her eyes 260 
 
 Were visible, and though a deadly haze 
 Filmed their si'iik balls, she sent into the grave, 
 Following the heavy and descending corpse, 
 A look of such imploring loveliness, 
 A glance so sad, so self-condemning, all, 265 
 
 (So softly, tremulously it appealed) 
 Might wonder that the spirit came not back 
 To animate for the utterance that she wishM 
 Those bloodless lips ; forgiveness it was plain 
 She sought, and one so beauteous to forgive, 270 
 
 The dead might almost wake. And she sate down, 
 Leaning her cheek upon a broken stone 
 (Once a King's monument) as listening yet
 
 XII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 361 
 
 Th acceptance of her prayers : nor cloistered Nun 
 Hath ever since mourning her broken vows, 275 
 
 And his neglect for whom those vows she broke, 
 Come to the image of her Virgin Saint 
 With such a faded cheek and contrite mien, 
 As her who by those royal ashes sate. 
 
 But lo, new witnesses ; a matron train 280 
 
 In flowing robes of grief came forth, the wives 
 And mothers of those nobles foully slain 
 At the Peace Banquet, them the memory yet 
 Seem'd haunting of delicious days broke off. 
 On Hengist, even a captive, dared not they 285 
 
 Look firmly, as their helpless loneliness 
 Spake for them, they their solitary breasts 
 Beat, wrung their destitute cold hands, and passed. 
 
 Arose the mitred Germain, glancM his hand 
 From that majestic criminal, where lay 290 
 
 The ruins of God's church, and so sate down. 
 
 But Samor lookM upon the mourner train, 
 As though he sought a face that was not there, 
 That could not be, soft Emeric's. " I have none, 
 I only none to witness of my wrongs.' 1 295
 
 362 SAMOR, LORD OF [BOOK 
 
 So said he, but he shook the softness off, 
 
 On the tribunal rose severe, and stood 
 
 Erect before the multitude. " Thou King, 
 
 And ye, assembled People of this Isle, 
 
 If that I speak your sentence right, give in 300 
 
 Your sanction of Amen. Here stands the man, 
 
 Who two long years laid waste with fire and sword 
 
 Your native cities and your altar shrines : 
 
 Here stands the man, who by slow fraud and guile 
 
 Discrowned your stately Monarch, Vortigern : 305 
 
 Here stands the man, hath water'd with your blood 
 
 The red and sickening herbage of your land : 
 
 Here stands the man, that to your peaceful feast 
 
 Brought Murther, that grim seneschal, and drugg'd 
 
 With your most noble blood your friendly cups." 310 
 
 And at each charge came in the deep Amen, 
 Even like the sounds men hear on stormy nights, 
 When many thunders are abroad. Nought moved 
 Stood Hengist, if emotion o'er him pass d, 
 Twas likest an elate contemptuous joy 315 
 
 And glorying in those lofty worded crimes. 
 Then, " Saxon Hengist, as thy sword hath made
 
 XII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 363 
 
 Our children fatherless, so fatherless 
 Must be thy children !"* And Amen knolPd back, 
 As a plague visited Metropolis 320 
 
 Mourning the wide and general funeral, tolls 
 From all her towers and spires the bell of death. 
 " Thy children fatherless ! not so not so" 
 Rose with a shriek that Woman by the grave, 
 And she sprang forth, as from beneath the earth, 325 
 As a partaker of, no mourner near 
 That kingly coffin. Veil fell off, and band 
 Started, through her bright tresses her pale face 
 Glitter'd, like purest ivory chas'd in gold. 
 Between the Criminal and Judge her stand 330 
 
 Rowena took ; him as she saw and knew 
 Flushed a sick rapture o^er her face and neck, 
 A fading rose-hue, like eve's parting light 
 On a snow bank ; but from her marble brow 
 She the bright-clustering hair wip'd back, and thus, 335 
 " Samor, the last time thou this brow beheld'st 
 The moonlight was upon it, since that hour 
 
 * The words used to Agag were applied on this occasion, according to the 
 Welsh tradition. Robert's Translation of the Brut of Tysilio.
 
 364 SAMOR, LORD OP [BOOK 
 
 The water hath flow'd o'er it, holy sign 
 
 Hath there been left by Christian hand, and I 
 
 Thy creed have learnt, and one word breathes it all, 840 
 
 Mercy." " But Justice is God's attribute, 
 
 Lady, as well as mercy, Man on earth 
 
 Must be Vicegerent of both stern and mild, 
 
 Lest over-ramping Evil set its foot 
 
 Upon the prostrate world. The doom is said, 345 
 
 The doom must be." " Ha ! Man with heart of clay, 
 
 To answer with that cold and stedfast mien; 
 
 Oh, 1 11 go back and sue the dead again, 
 
 There's more forgiveness in the cold deaf corpse, 
 
 Than the warm keen-ear'd living. From that vault 350 
 
 I felt sweet reconcilement stealing up, 
 
 That turn'd my tears to honey dew, here all, 
 
 All sullen and relentless on me glares. 
 
 I ask not for myself, not for myself, 
 
 The ice of death is round my heart, there long '355 
 
 I've felt the slow consuming prey, I feel 
 
 The trembling ebb of my departing life. 
 
 That hoary head, though granted to my prayers, 
 
 Shall never rest upon my failing knee,
 
 XII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 365 
 
 The father that ye give me back (I feel 360 
 
 Ye give him, thou that bear'st the Avenger's name, 
 
 I know thee by a milder character) 
 
 That father cannot long be mine ; his hands 
 
 May lay me in the grave, his eyes may weep, 
 
 For they can weep, although ye think it not; 365 
 
 Those hands ye deem for ever blood-embrued, 
 
 I've felt them fondling with my golden hair, 
 
 When with gay childish foot I danc'd to meet 
 
 His far resounding horn. That horn shall sound, 
 
 But on my deaf and earth-clos'd ears no more, 370 
 
 No more." " Rowena, when a Nation speaks, 
 
 The irrevocable sentence cannot change." 
 
 Then up her fair round arm she rais'd, and wrapt 
 Like a rich mantle round her ; her old pride 
 As the poetic Juno in the clouds 3/5 
 
 Walking in her majestic ire, while slow 
 Before her th' azure-breasted peacocks draw 
 Her chariot." Tell me, thou that sit'st elate, 
 And ye, who call yourselves this British realm, 
 By what new right ye judge a German King, 380 
 
 Where are your charters, where your scrolls of law
 
 366 SAMOR, LORD OP [BOOK 
 
 Whose bright and blazon'd titles give ye power 
 
 To pass a doom on crowned head ? Down, down, // 
 
 Ye bold Usurpers of the Judgment seat, 
 
 Insolent doomers of a sacred life, 385 
 
 Beyond your sphere to touch, your grasp to seize.*" 
 
 " Lady, we judge by the adamantine law, 
 That lives within the eternal soul of man, 
 That God-enacted charter, " Blood for blood." 
 
 Exhausted she sank down upon her knees, 390 
 
 Her knees that fainted under her. " Ye can, 
 Ye will not shew unto a woman's eyes 
 That bloody consummation, not to mine. 
 Oh, thou that speakest in that brazen tone 
 Implacable, the last time thou and I 395 
 
 Discoursed, thy voice was broken, tender, soft, 
 Remember'st thou ? 'twas then as it had caught 
 The trembling of the moonlight, that lay round 
 With rapturous disquiet bathing us. 
 Remember'st thou?' 1 " Almost the Judgment sword 
 Fell from the Avenger's failing hand, but firm 401 
 
 He grasped it, and with eyes to heaven upturned, 
 " Oh, duty, duty, why art thou so stern ?"
 
 XII.] THE BRIGHT CITY. 367 
 
 Then, " Lady, lo, the headsman with his steel ; 
 
 To that dark Driest 'tis given to sacrifice 405 
 
 The victim of to day depart ! depart ! 
 
 Colours may flow too deep for woman's sight, 
 
 And sounds may burst too drear for woman's ear." 
 
 Stately as lily on a sunshine bank, 
 Shaken from its curl'd leaves the overcharging dew, 410 
 Freshens and strengthens its bow'd stem, so white 
 So brightening to a pale cold pride, a faint 
 And trembling majesty, Rowena sate. 
 On Hengist's dropping lip and knitted brow 
 Was mockery at her fate-opposing prayer, 415 
 
 And that was all. But she " Proud-hearted Men, 
 Ye vainly deem your privilege, your right, 
 Prerogative of your high-minded race, 
 The glory of endurance, and the state 
 Of strong resolving fortitude. Here I, 420 
 
 A woman born to melt and faint and fail, 
 A frail, a delicate, dying woman, sit 
 To shame ye." She endur'd the flashing stroke 
 Of th' axe athwart her eyesight, and the blood 
 That sprung around her she endur'd : still kept 425
 
 368 SAMOR, &c. [BOOK XH. 
 
 The lily its unbroken stateliness, 
 
 And its pellucid beauty sparkled still, 
 
 But all its odours were exhaTd the breath 
 
 Of life, the tremulous motion was at rest ; 
 
 A flower of marble on a temple wall, 430 
 
 'Twas fair but lived not, glittered but was cold. 
 
 While from the headless corpse t 1 its great account 
 
 Went fiercely forth the Pagan's haughty soul. 
 
 
 London : Printed by W. Biduief and Co, 
 Cleveland Row, St. James'*. 
 
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 3 1158 01045 8924 
 
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