T THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES CITHARA DANMONII. G O R L A Y E , OK A TALE OF THE OLDEN TV ME, IN FOUR CANTOS. ^ %^^-rf^O ^-i ** Est locus Albrini sinuoso littore ponti, " Rupe situs media, leflmis quem circuit aestus " Fulminat hie late, turrito vertice, eastrum " Nomine Tandagium veteres dixere Corini." LONDON BALDTTIN AXD CHAnoCK, PATERNOSTER HOW, ASD J. BROKENSHIB, TRUaO. 183j. PRINTED BY J, BROKENSHIR, TRURO. L 1 41 TO THE READER, Were I to tell you, my dear reader, with what reverential awe, I at lliis time usher into your august presence — with what humi- lity and diffidence I venture to bespeak your forbearance — of the manifold importunities which have been requisite to vanquish my modesty ; or of my determined and disinter- ested zeal for your amusement and edifica- tion, I might, perhaps, be entitled to as much of your credit as all other authors, of whatever community or clime, who have introduced themselves with like protestations. W ,3 O'^ "^' VI. But far be it from me, I Hnd but little, in my pwn case, which I am disposed to affirm or deny ; and nothing which induces me to fear or to hope. A nameless wight, who flits before you as a phantom in a dream,defies the shafts of censure ; and the ray of many a bard, which shines immortal on the beacon of his fame, forbids the proudest to aspire. Albeit the humblest of your minstrels has " essayed to sing." But, between your schemes of emolument, chagrin for losses, the signs of the times, seif-glorification, and Mr. Bnlwer's last novel — amid the din and wonderment of steam, traffic, and mining as- sociations, with all physical powers in league to hush the billows on our rocky etrand, alas ! for my unpretending lyre. Some there are, whom, were I at all ambi- tious, 1 should be most desirous to please. — VII, And, oh ! could I but bend my rugged rhyme To strains of fair and winning minstrelsy. Long might I linger o'er each by-gone time, With glances soft, and softer bosoms stay ; — But mine, alas ! is but a humble lay : — The minstrel at a lady's bower, must needs AVith silken sounds his fytte of homage pay — I may not lift my lids to dare such deeds, Nor hope to win one smile with these my lowly reeds. But now, my dear reader, for the present adieu : — it only remains for me to tell you that [ am Your very devoted Servant, THE AUTHOR. CONTEXTS. GORLAYE. Page Canto 1 15 Canto II 45 Casto III 69 Camto IV 95 Notes to the first Canto 129 Notes to the second Canto 135 Notes to the third Canto 143 Notes to the fourth Canto 149 MISCELLANEOUS. Stanzas \d9 ToE. M. B 162 Young Harry Kilgear 165 MaidofClutha IG8 They came to the beach 171 To Mary 174 Farewell — farewell 178 ARGUMENT. Uter Pendragon Laving made a great feast at his castle of Caersegont, Gorlaye, Duke of Cornwall, and Lis beautiful bride, Igerna, attend by invitation. Gorlaye, incited by jealousy, and suspecting Lis host of treachery, makes a precipitafe retreat — is pursued by Pendragon and overtaken — beats him in single combat, and, after a short halt at Caei-- Iske, proceeds %nth his lady and retinue to Dundagetl : which con- cludes the first canto. — Gorlaye,having secured Igerna in Dundagell, and shut himself up in the castle of Daraeliock, sends his trusty friend, Sir Tudor, to the monk of Saint Ulette's isle, informing him of the descent of Pendragon v.ith a numerous host upon Cornwall, and requesting Lis attendance at Dameli- ock. — It may be fufBcient to add, that the scene of the third canto is placed at Dameliock; and the fourth, at) and near Dundagell. ERRATA. Vage 11. Hue 8. For seem'd read soenis 45. 8. — — aise— raise 54. 6. seem— seem'd .")4. U moontide — noontide 7,-,. 2. had— has 8S. 7. ___subtile — subtle 101. 13. corone— corones 129. 9. prefered— preferred 147. 8. Berthan— Berthuaa 1G2. 14. — -relk-t— relick .178. 8. patn— path GORLAYE. CANTO FIRST. GORLAYE, OR A TALE OF THE OLDEN TYME. CANTO 1, ijjo , r. Long hast thou hung- untouch'd, my harp, no sound For many a year has waked thy mould'ring strings Save when the tempest echoing around. Perchance some blast has swept thee with its wings And many dreams of hope, like shadowy things, Have passed away — and mingled in the night Of the Eternity that's gone, which flings Its dusky shades — still winning on the sight — O'er all that gives to man dominion or delight. IG GORLAYE Canlo I. II. The sounds that lingered last upon thy chords, Were not the same as thou wilt waken now ; Time has swept light and music from my words, As it has left its impress on my brow : Beneath its sway. Power fades — the mighty bow— And pass like sunbeams in a winter's day — All that Ambition seeks — Pride values — how It mingles with the past, and melts away, Like the dull — tuneless echoes, of my humble lay. III. If to the winds thy minstrelsy be given, And all unheeded be my musty lore ; As clouds careering through the midnight heaven. Or the wild billows booming on the shore — Harp of my youth, I'll woo thee yet once more ! Canto I. GORLAYE II Though wild the numbers of my careless lay, Thou may est shed a spell of gladness o'er My sorrowhig spirit, in its darkest day, And hold the soul, awhile, a captive to thy sway. IV. ' Heard ye the din of the Saxon awaking The glens of Caer-Isk, and xVvallan, to war ? — And,anon,the hoarse bark of MadreAlIaidh — ere slaking His thirst with the blood of the slain at Kilmar ? — The war-whoop of Octa — the shouts of his minions—- When the demon of Slaughter re-echo'd the yell ? Ere the raven had over him flapp'd her dark pinions^ To riot, in turn, in the vale where he fell ! Saw ye the ensign of Gwillimoore flying — Like the sky-soaring wing of the Er on the gale ? His corse, at the hour of sunset, was lying With dust on his helmet, and blood on his mail ! 18 GORLAYE Canto 1. There his friends lie around him — to waken — Oh never — As cold, on the turf of their slumber, as he ! — There let them sleep on, 'mid the moan of that river, Whose wave,when they perished, ran red to the sea!' V. Thus, as his runic harp he strung, A bard of Britain whilom sung — * For those who came with hostile brand Had left their bones upon the strand, Or fled o'er many a desert way, To give, perchance, the eagle prey. And ere that moon her rays had spent, Caersegont's time-worn battlement, From rampart stern, and tower of might, Gave to the breeze its banners bright ; And hall and bower smiled, as they Sparkled with many a borrowed ray : For then Igerna, with her Lord, Had welcome to Pendragon's board — Canto I. GORLAYE VJ The one Danmojiium's fairest daughter, The noblest of her chieftains he ~ Whose towers o'erlooked the restless water Of Severne's dark and stormy sea. YI. And many who had stemm'd the tide Of battle, fighting by his side, The chosen of his captains bold. Were feasted at Pendragon's hold, In celebration with their Lord Of triumph o'er the Saxon sword. But none in all that gallant train, Assembled on Caersegont's plain. Though stout of heart, and true of hand, Might match with charger, lance, and brand, Igerna's Lord, the young Gorlaye, Hunting the Arth o'er dark Gunbre; — No lady, in that hall of pride, So beautiful as Gorlave's bride. •20 GORLAYE Canto I. VII. The three first nights, her step, and ghmce, Were gayest in the merry dance ; And dark Pendragon's brow of Hint, Unmark'd except by Battle's diiit, Since tirst that beam of beanty rose. Seemed kindling from its stern repose ; And most assiduously of all He sousht her smile when in the hall. VIII. But what might such a brow as his Avail to win one wand'ring ray. Of passion erring in its way ? — Yet darkness, e'en in realms like this, Is but as light to woman's eyes — These fugitives from paradise ; Still — banished from their first bright spheres Of sunshine,, to a waste of tears — Canto I. GORLAYE 21 Tinging each object where they light, With all that's beautiful and bright ! Like splendour to the rainbow given. Bringing: to earth the tints of heaven ! Fancy can such fair hues impart. When erring Love holds woman's heart : What marvel then Pendragon's brow — Ay — even his — seem'd winning now ? IX. I will not say what spell vras wrought For him, by magic of a thought ; But yet, some glances, more than wont. Were flashing on that haughty front ; Which seemed to kindle, at the ray. From sable darkness into day. X. And Gorlaye marked Pendragon's fac^ But what of evil misht he trace ? 22 GORLAYE Canto I, Much : — looks have language, which, no less — Nay sometimes more, than words express The mind's emotion, and impart More than conviction to the heart. Yet that a prince of pow'r and pride Was merely courteous to his bride, Could not be named a thing of guilt — Howbeit, upon his dagger's hilt His hand he often laid, and still Waited some other proof of ill. XI. 'Twas midnight — and the trophied wall And ceiling of Caersegont's hall. The wasted lamp, with flickering ray, Showed dimly ere it died away : That hour had hush'd each restless thing, Save fitful blasts on viewless wing; Scarce wakening, as they flitted by. One drowsy Echo with a sigh ; Canto I. GORLAYE 23 All else was mute — those ling'riiig last, To drain the bowl before they pass'd — Those too were gone, and lord, and guest, Were silent then, if not at rest. XII. Oh Slumber, thou at least canst give Some respite to all things that live ; E'en those that bask in Pleasure's smile, Forgdt their Goddess for awhile, And gladly woo thee, as they think In thy alluring arms to sink : But to the seared and stricken heart, A paradise of hope thou art ! And hast thou not a spell, to scare Even the fiend that haunts Despair ? XIII. Why Hits that light, at such an hour Of darkness, in the western tow'r ? 24 GORLA\ E Canto I. And sounds — but what ? — the slunibVing breeze Awakens not in tones like these — The grating of a heavy door— And fearful footsteps on the floor — And words, address'd to some one near, Come murmuring to the listening ear. XIV. " 'Tis time to go, our party's van " Awaits us in the barbican : — " Dread not this midnight darkness, soon — " In one short hour more, the moon *' Will lend enough — nay too much light, " For those who take untimely flight, — " I heard him whisper to his guard, " To keep this tower securely barr'd ; " We've foil'd him once, and if again " I beard the tiger in his den, " I augur, from that brow of gloom, •' To-morrow's sun will seal my doom." Canto I. GORLAYE 25 " No Gorlaye — no — you wrong him — I — " Yet not his advocate — wouhl crave " To say — what you cannot deny — " The man whom you suspect is brave : " For you have seen him proudly mock " At peril in the battle's shock; " And aught like treach'ry to a guest, " Suits but the recreant coward's breast. " Then leave not till another day — " I tremble at yon frowning sky — " May guide us with a surer ray, " Then bid him, if you will, goodbye. " But thus to flee, with headlong zeal, " In dread of an assassin's steel, " When none is near, would seem, at best, " Like solemn mockery of a jest. " 'Twere strange, indeed, an owlet's shriek " Should fright the Er from Roughter's peak ; " To stem the midnight tempest loud, " And seek his safety in a cloud ; 2 26 GORLAYE Canto I, " But passing strange if you should flee, " When nought like Terror looks on me !" " Igerna, rend not from my heart " The hope that lingers longest there — " Nay clings, and never will depart " For any guest beside Despair — " That blooms, in sorrow's darkest hour, " In triumph as a lonely flow'r, " Which bears the flap of Winter's wing, " A constant and unfaded thing — " While yet one sunbeam lingers by, " The lovliest, and the last, to die. " Till now, though all were dark beside, " To me, 'twas sunshine at thy side ; " Thy love the ray that cheer 'd me still, " Through each variety of ill ; " No spell of darkness might eclipse " That beam of beauty from mine eyes, " Unless 'twere uttered by those lips, " Whose breath seemed incense from the skies. ■Canto I. GORLAYE 27 " Then name not, in a whispered tone, " Aught that would make me feel alone — " Unloved on earth — then e'en thy breath " Were colder than the touch of death. — " I've never known a wish, by speech " Or look express'd, within my reach, " And boding to you nought beside " Your happiness, was e'er denied. " You taunted me but now, as I " Were but a wretch who feared to die — " Nay, shuddered e'en at Danger's sprite, " Haunting a sickly fancy's sight : — " This then for one whose life is spent, " In actions of a pure intent, " For others' weal — for such to hear " Reproach of seltishness and fear. . . . " But what of this ?. .'tis nothing — yet " Not the most easy to forget : " This much is sure — you frown— away " And flee with me, while yet you may. 2B GORLAVE Canto /. " For well I know another hour " Would make us captives in this tower ; " So vain all hope to thwart my will " To save you from impending ill." — " I know no ill" " That may be— here " Sir Tudor, forward with the rear." — XV. And all was silent as before, Save footsteps on the corridorc ; And then anon the southern gate, On jarring hinge, was heard to giate ; But neither the discordant jar Of iron hinge, nor pond'rous bar, Awoke the sentinel who kept — Or should have kept, at midnight hour, His watch upon Caersegont's tower ; — So passing well that night he slept. Canto I. GORLAYE 29 XVI. The bird allured by Morning's smile. To wander to some sunny isle ; Wings joyously across the deep While winds and billows are aslcsp ; And loit'ring on the distant beach. May deem it but a wish, to reach — > A pastime ere the evening closes — Her home of eglantine and roses : — She hears some blast its pinions shake — The slumbering Tempest is awake ! Speed — speed be on thy homeward wing. Or, sooth, it may be many an hour, Ere thou have leave again to sing Thy vespers in thine own sweet bower. Haste — Gorlaye, haste ! — thy ling'ring bride Hath yet a weary way to ride — On o'er the desert — look not back — When starts Pendragon from bis pillow, 30 GORLAYE Canto I, As dark a storm may sweep thy track, As riots o'er the frantic billow : Then spare not to thy gallant steed, For if the demon mock thy speed, Long may the warder have to wait. Thy summons at Dundagell's gate. XVII. They've pass'd like shadows from the sight. The desert is their home to night ; And lowering skies, of starless gloom, May shield them from a darker doom. XVIII. 'Still — still they flee, nor dare to risk Long respite, ere they gain Caer-Isk. The morning of the second day H ad dawned upon their homeward way ; Canto L gorlaye 3i When Tudor, and, in danger tried. Five gallant comrades at his side. Some furlongs distant in the rear. Traversed the desert's tr ack of fear. XIX. What rider follows, with the speed Of wind, upon a foaming steed ? — Another — and another — " stand !" The foremost cried, and bared his brand ; 8ir Tudor, ere he might repeat The challenge, hurled him from his seat. To gasp upon the sand. Truce to thy mercy — let him lie, To- bite the bloody ground, and die ! — One moment lost, 'twill be too late The next, to win a better fate — A sterner foe is nigh ! That demon of the crimson crest. With bloody spur and lance in rest, 32 GORLAYE Canto I. Will render speed in vain ; On Tudor — on — while yet you may, And charge him in his headlong way — They clash upon the plain ! His lance, against Sir T udor's targe, Pendragon shivered in the charge ; One moment more sufficed to clasp His sabre in his iron grasp ; And ere the next, one furious bound And stroke, brought Tudor to the ground. His plume was from his helmet shorn, His hauberk dinted bosom torn, The victor o'er him as he lay, Glared like a tiger on his prey, Then gnashed his teeth in scorn. XX. He glanced one moment round — but why ? — To see his last companion die ? — Canto I. GORLAYE 33 Himself alone — his lite the stake. And Vengeatice at his sitle awake ! Little he recked at this —one blow Had laid his tirst assailant low ; Whose charger, staggering to the earth, Fell crash and broke his saddle-girth : Another fell — another — one Almost his match, at length o'erthrown. In stirrup hitched, his furious horse Trailed madly o'er the rugged course : And none were left whom Pride or Hate, Might nerve to win a better fate. XXL Forbear — forbear one vaunt of pride — Yet other foes are at thy side — " Hold gallant comrades " — Gorlaye cried — " Retire from unequal strife, " Alone I match him, life for life." 34 GORLAYE Canto I . XXII. Pendragon stirred not from his place, But raised the visor from his face ; With lip compressed and firm, he eyed His rival with disdain and pride ; And each dark passion, as it passed, Its image on his features cast. He spoke not, but no less expressed The deadly purpose of his breast ; And, as his iron visor fell, Grinned with a scowl, like nought but hell. XXIII. And Gorlaye met his evil eye, Cool — stern — and steady to defy ; With look that challenged hate, and cursed His scorn, and dared him to his worst — Canto T. gorlaye 35 That mocked him, over Fate's abyss, And triumphed in an hour like this ! Then, as they paused, it seemed as Death Had frozen utterance with his breath. XXIV. As when above some moonless hill The Spirit of the Storm is still. And Thunder, in his murky shroud. Is slumbering on his mansion cloud ; Their crests of darkness, floating high. Like Terror's ensign in the sky, Presage that earth, and heaven, will shake With twofold vengeance, when they wake- Such is the semblance of rest, That curbs the tempest of the breast — The deep, indomitable tire, Of changeless hate, or quenchless ire. 36 GORLAYE Canto I. XXV. That moment past — their sabres' ray. Was flashing in the beam of ilay ; And Echo, from her caverns, woke In clash for clash, and stroke for stroke. Pendragon of gigantic height, Raged like a lion in the fight ; But Gorlaye, of a lighter form, Now reined his well-trained charger back. Now spurr'd him to renewed attack. Now shunn'd, now sought the closing clash, Gleamed round his foe his sabre's flash. Like lightning in a storm. They part, and close, and part again, As steel, and might, and rage, were vain. Then, rushing on with desperate force, jVleet hand to hand, and horse to horse. — Pendragon's blade is shivered now. Death hovers o'er his visor 'd brow — Canto I. GORLAYE 37 Down — down he sinks, his mail of proof, Is trampled 'neath his charger's hoof ; Yet with unconquered hate and pride, He shook his broken blade, and cried : " Come on — come one — come all — alike " To me, I still defy you — strike — " I would not hold a boon, if given " By you, though it would purchase heaven ; *' And if you spare me, you shall feel, " Ere long, the vengeance of my steel." XXVI. In silence Gorlaye turned away, And found the place where Tudor lay ; Upraised him from his bloody bed- Life had not from his bosom fled ; And soon, by friendly aid, he woke, Recovered from the stunning stroke ; And ere above the distant height Pendragon's rear appeared in sight, 3 38 GORLAYE Canto I, The victor, Gorlaye, and his train, Had vanished from the battle plain ; And ere the following night had pass'd, They halted, at Caer-Iske, at last. XXVII. The beetling rocks of dark Pendue, Give refuge to the wild seamew ; Securely looking from her nest, Far o'er the ocean's troubled breast, When the uncaverned tempests lower Around her adamantine bower. — Thus, were Pendragon at the gate, Might Gorlaye triumph o'er his hate. And laugh to scorn his threat of Pride, Were all his minions at his side ; For sooth these hoary towers had stood Securely on dark Isca's flood. For many a year, and yet might be Guard of Danmonium liberty. Canto I. GORLAYE 39 XXVIII. But far away Dundagell's crest, Rose o'er the confines of the west From Ulette's lone and desert isle. Where last the evening sunbeams smile ; There, where the Atlantic's restless tide. Foamed madly 'round its rock-based side, Gorlaye had destined to his bride Her residue of rest, XXIX. But why, ere Morning's earliest beam, Has cast one smile on Isca's stream — Why looks Danmonium's fairest daughter. So pensive o'er that sunless water ? What e'er the spell that's left its trace, To cloud the sunshine of that face — What e'er she hopes, or fears, that brow Was ne'er more beautiful than now ; 40 GORLAYE Canto I. And those soft eyes, albeit there may Be some few tears to dim their ray, Are still like heaven, when a cloud Half hides it in a watery shroud. XXX. While yet the morning skies are dim, Their steeds are out in ready trim ; Again they leave Caer-Isk, and pass In gloomy apathy away ; — How changed in speech and air — alas ! Is this the gallant and the gay Young spirit, which was once to all The talisman of life — the soul ? And she — that image of distress — Still by his side — but passionless And mute — can this be she — his own Igerna — this that melting eye Of love — that lip of melody. Canto I. GORLAYE 4 1 That gave its witchery to each word — That wakened, in his breast, a chord Of bliss by every tone ? But what may now avail to bring One glimpse of heaven, like the last Those tones upon his spirit cast ? Nothing on earth, it cannot be — His heart is echoless, and she A lyre without a string. XXXI. Like barks upon the dangerous deep. Bound to one port, together keep ; Though tempests may have crossed their way, And tranquil skies allured to stray In vain, till, nearing to the strand. They strike upon some treacherous sand. Thus is it those, who, side by side. In joy and sorrow have been tried, 42 GORLAYE Canto 1. Yet constant — yea united still More closely, in an hour of ill, Share, and share on, unchanged by years, Their heritage of smiles or tears ; Till at the last some foolish strife Weakens the charm that bound their life — Suspicion, or unwonted blame — Some trifle it were hard to name — A look — a word, unkindly spoken, Repeated, till the spell be broken : And hearts that love when once they sever, Are lonely, and alone for ever. END OF THE FIRST CANTO. G O R L A Y E, CANTO SECOND. GORLAYE, OR A TALE OF THE OLDEN TYME. CANTO 11. I. The weary winds had sunk to rest. In sighs, npon the)ocean's breast ; The bark, upon the waters wide, Was slowly drifting- with the tide ; In vain her gallant yards were swung, Her snowy sail in idlesse hung ; For not a breath was flitting past, To aise her pendant from the mast. 40 GORLAYE Canto II. II. The fly humm'd o'er the wilderness, The mountain flower was motionless, As Evening; shed her sober hue Upon the brow of dark Pendue ; Whose crags o'erhung, as if to greet, The wave that slumbered at his feet. Eound rock, and headland, far away, The waters as a mirror lay. And to their tranquil face were given The shades of earth — the smiles of heaven. III. ' Tis seldom here that one may trace Such hushed repose, in this wild place Is heard the weary sound Of breakers 'gainst the islet's steep : Tho' in their coral caves may sleep The winds, beneath the ocean deep» — Canto II. GORLAYE 47 Urged by Atlanta's restless tides, Against the dark rocks' marble sides, The frantic billows bound. Then, scarce a sound an Echo woke, Except at times the raven's croak. Or the wild cry of the seamew ; As to her dizzy home she flew. IV. In sinking from the ocean-isle. The sun had given his parting smile To fair Danmonium's strand ; — Lingering, and beautiful, he went From rock, and tower, and battlement, To light some other land. One only cloud was seen to rest, Some moments, in the glowing west, Like ocean's queen, in purple vest : 48 GORLAYE Canto II. For all tho miiibow hath Of glory, ill her thousand dies, Was melted o'er the evening skies, And streamed around its path. V. So fair was the scene when the evening hour, Shed its fading tints on the donjon tower^ So fair when the dews and the shadows fell On the dark grey stone at Saint I'lette's cell, VI. And he who in that tenement, His years iu prayer and penance spent, — Worn gaunt in cheek and limb, Came forth, that eve, to breathe the air, And saw the sun sink bright, and fair. Below the ocean's brim. A long — a breathless look he c«st On all around him, ere he pass'd ; Canto II. GORLAYE 49 And as the holy father stood, With view so fair, of coast, and flood, The cloudless heaven — the waveless shore Was calmer than the look he wore. One might not say 'twas fear or hate. That made him dark or desolate ; Yet something beside peace, might be Mix'd in that moment's reverie. ' Twere hard the mental strife to trace On the pale marble of his face ; Yet, even more than they were wont. Deepened the furrows on his front ; And his eye became more stern and dark, As he turned toward the lonely bark, Which with flagging sail at some distance lay, Like a white cygnet, on the bay. VII. I would not— dare not — will not say Unholy passions held their sway ; — 4 50 GORLAYE Canto II. Fasting and scourge, had wrought on him Their power, and he was old and dim. Perhaps, that scene of loveliness, To him brought visions of distress ; To think, that, one short moment o'er, Full oft the fairest gift of heaven. Leaves the soul darker than before The bright and fleeting boon was given, Makes man feel weary and unbless'd, And, e'en 'mid pleasure, ill at rest. VIII. But though his anxious glance seem'd bent, And fixed on wave or firmament, — Entranced, in reverie of thought, His gazing eye might see them not : llie wearied spirit, chafed and worn, Might sorrowing seek a happier bourn. The flower that in the desert springs. Drops but its withered leaves to earth ; Canto 11. GORLAYE 51 But to that heaven its incense flings. Whose dews, and suns, have given it birth, I say not w^hat his visions were — Yet sadness seemed to mingle there ; Or what the mystic power, that cast Its spell upon him, ere he pass'd. IX. He passed into his lone chapelle, He breathed no sigh, no accent fell From him his woe or weal to name — He went, in silence, as he came. The bat flapp'd by, the owlet's shriek, Echoed upon the headland peak ; And the slumbering winds made a boding moan, Ere he had crossed the threshold stone. Full twenty years, or more, had shed Their chilling hoars upon his head. 52 GORLAYE Canto II, Since, one fair eve, a Cambrian skiif ass seen to near the islet's cliff; When he, his lineage and his land Unknown, set foot upon the strand, And bid his boat adieu ; Little he said, and less he chose. Of his past sojourn, to disclose; Whate'er, in other lands, might be His title, style, or pedigree, They called him Ivor Dhu. XI. Ten summers' suns and flowers had smiled On Gorlaye, and he was a child Lovely as ever sun or flower, Had blessed in childhood's careless hour. And oh ! in life's dim, holy spring. The daisy is a peerless thing ; And as the skies we gazed on then, We ne'er may see so fair again. Canto II. GORLAYE 63 XII. He loathed the gloomy hall, to him Rampart and tower were dark and grim ; Better to woo the mountain air. Than pine in moping idlesse there : — Of childish sports he little knew, And, strange, he loved stern Ivor Dhii. XIII. TJndisciplmed by fear, or art. To hide the sallies of the heart. Each glance, a mirror to the mind. Glowing purely bright, yet undefined, Ere a false world had driven thence The guileless look of innocence. Yet his that energy of soul. That melts at kindness — spurns control — The cloudless brow — the careless eye — The spirit's wild ascendency — 54 GORLAYE Canto //. The sudden flash, the wild'ring maze, The fixed and spirit-breathing gaze. — What though no ray of heavenly bhie Were in that dark eye's hazel hue, — The light and mist of morning heaven. Seem to that form of beauty given. Alas — the rose in Beauty's bower. Will droop when evening tempests lower ! And man, to treachery a prey, Soon feels life's hallowing sunlight past; Like streams which in the moontide play. And freeze the next hour in the blast ; And tears that dew the spirit's morn, At eve, congeal to hate or scorn. XIV. Years rolled away, but none might trace The home of Ivor, or his race ; As doubtful whether he had spent His youth in convent, or in tent ; Canto II. GORLAYE .■j."> In peaceful halls, or on the deck. To brave the battle or the wreck. Most deemed, they scarce knew why, his life "Where'er it passed, had passed in strife ; Few might be right, or all be wrong. For dark the cloud that o'er him hung : Yet still of learning's various lore. Fie had a strange and ample store, And of his order, but a few Might be so strict as Ivor Dhu. Reserved, and silent, in his mood. He seldom left the solitude He'd sought, and found, in that asyle, The lonely chapel of the isle. But young Gorlaye was often there, His hours of loneliness to share ; And learning gained, 'twas said, ere long More than was meet for one so young. And every year, yet closer, drew The tie that chance around them threw : oG GORLAYE CoHtu II. Till in good time, at hour of need, Few better reined the battle steed, And veterans, in the boldest band. Might rue the flash of Gorlaye's brand. — XV. The grating door had closed on him — His beads were numbered — aves said, — Hushed was the note of vesper hymn, And passed the requiem for the dead — The lamp was burning low and dim : But who is this that comes alone. This hour, to the dark grey stone ? His stalwart form is amply cased With coat of steel, and corslet laced, The iron glove is on his hand, And from his baldric swings a brand. Shadows his casque a raven crest. As dark the cuirass on his breast. — Canto II. GORLAYE 57 His hand upon the hitch he lays. Yet lingering at the portal stays — "What does he hear — the fitful sigh Of moaning winds careering by ? "Was it the faint awakening roar Of billows on the drowsy shore ? — 'Twas not the wind, nor ocean's swell. He heard it in Saint Ulette's cell : Low is the voice, and sad the strain- It ceases — hush- it breathes again. XVI. ♦' What are these fleeting things, " Which, in varying shadows dress'd, *' Come with mist upon their wings, " To the slumberer in his rest ? XVII. *' If rocked upon the billow " Of the ocean, and the sigh •'>B GORLAYE Canto //. " Of winds be round his pillow, " These shadowy forms are nigh. XVIII. " If friendless and forsaken " In his heritage of care, " Eyes, never more to waken, " Are beaming on him there. XIX. " And the storm, that rages then, " He neither heeds nor hears ; *' But the melodies agen "Of long departed years — XX. " Vows that have long been broken, " Bring a thrilling to his breast, " As when he heard them spoken, " By lips for ever at rest. Canto II. GORLAYE 59 XXI. " And though clouds, and storms, may be •' The companions of his fate, " And a wanderer on the sea " He be lone and desolate — XXII. " His childhood's earliest home, " And the dear friends of his youth — " Gay, and smilingly, they come " \yith their promises of truth. XXIII. " Oh ! what are those fleeting things, " With their light and minstrelsy ? " He wakes, and the tempest sings "O'er the dark, and dreary sea. — CO GORLAYE Canto 11. XXIV. •' But the faces that they wear " Are not for ever smiling, " They are not always the care "Of the weary beguiling ; XXV. *' Often, darkness, and sorrow, " Are in tidings which they tell; " Overshadowing the morrow, " With a cold and deadly spell. XXVI. " And as the reckless winds blow " Over gardens of roses, " Sometimes, with dark frowns, they go " M'here innocence reposes. — Canto II. GORLAYE CI XXVII. " They are often by the side " Of the weary, where they rest, " And display to them the wide " World, unblessing and unbless'd. XXVIII. •' Good St. Ulette, guard my bed, " And shield me well in my path ; *' And, Oh, scare that dragon red " That haunts my dreams in his wrath ! XXIX. " At the midnight hour, through dim " Clouds, glares out the hideous form ; " And glide before me the grim " Shades, of battle and of storm." 62 GORLAYE Canto II. XXX. He raised the latch — the strain was o'er, As clanked the iron on the floor ; The ray that from a taper streamed, Dim through the gothic arches gleamed ; And with a flickering lure, fell On sculptured saint, and grim corbell. And as he crossed the chapel's aisle. The warrior raised his aventayle, To bid the Father Ivor hail. At his cell door the old man stood. With snowy beard, and sable kood. His gaunt form in an amice wound, Which to his waist a baldric bound — In his hand he held a lamp ; And as he reared the light on high. With lustre wild glared round his eye- He saw athwart the chapel's gloom, The dancing of a raven plume, Canto 11. GORLAYE 63 And marvelled what unbidden wight Wakened the echoes of the night, ^Yith harsh and clattering tramp. XXXI. " Hail Father Dhu," the warrior said ; " The foul fiend blight the dragon red — " To night, within Dundagell's hall, " Are serf, squire, knight, and seneschal, " Prepared to welcome, or defy, " As friend, or foeman, may be nigh ; " For the Red Dragon with his host, " Darken each Caern above the coast ; '' And far and wide, from east to north, " Whence the fierce legions pour forth, " The blood red flag is streaming — " On every beacon — every rock, " From Isca to Dameliock, " The watch-fire's ray is gleaming. 64 GORLAYE Catito II. " But Gorlaye holds Dameliock's keep, " And you, upon this islet's barrow, " Though hosts be near, may calndy sleeps " Dundagell's rocks, and towers, are steep, " And guarded by the Severne deep, " Defy the foeman's arrow. " And the bold lord of high Bottreaux, *' Has towers as steep — has hearts as true, " That wait his bugle's call ; " Between Restormel and Penzance, " Ten thousand plumes and pennons dance — '•' Echoes each hold as they advance, " The war cry — one and all, " Thus are there hearts to dare the foe, " And swords to measure blow for blow— " That host, ere long, may feed the crow. XXXII. " Here come I from Dameliock's hall, " Despite the foes around the wall ; — Canto II. GORLAYE G5 " Beneath the donjon-tower's keep, " There is a cavern, long and deep, " Which, after winding many a rood, " Finds outlet in a trackless wood : " Through this I gained egress to-day, " And greet thee well from Duke Gorlaye." — *' Welcome, Sir Tudor, say thy saye." XXXIII. *' Hemm'd in — beset on every hand— " He may not quit his faithful band ; " Or else he would have spared thy years « To grant the boon he begs — yet fears " That age may hinder what thy will, *' He knows, would prompt thee to fulfil — " He needs thy counsel and thy skill : " Thy presence may alone provide «' AVhat he requires— I'll be thy guide— *« When the moon has set our steeds shall wait, " In harness at the castle's gate, « If you with me can ride. 66 GORLAYE Canto IL " Our Lady speed us on the way, " And we'll be safe ere dawn of day." XXXIV. ** Sir Tudor, I have been. . . .but— yet— ** Peace to the past — I cannot prate — " I'll meet you when the moon has set, ** VYithin the castle's western gate ; •* I'm old, 'tis true, but still, I think- ** May tire your courser, ere I sink." END OF THE SECOND CANTO. G O R L A Y E, CANTO THIRD. GORLAYE, OR A TALE OF THE OLDEN TYME. CANTO III. If o'er thy hills no groves of myrtle wave. Land of my birth ! I love thee quite as well ; Thou hast blue streams, and the glad billows lave Thy ruaged shores with their unceasing swell : Thy wild wastes, purpled by the heather bell, If the winds bear less incense to the skies, The gaudy tints of softer climes excel ; And here, the oak, that shades our home, defies The loud careering blast, that sooths us as it flies. 70 GORLAYE Canto III. II. But one deep blast his bugle sang, Yet long the answering echoes rang : — " Relieve the guard — Ho ! Jordan— call " The Warder to the outer wall : — '• Unfurl that banner — doubly man *' The rampart o'er the barbican ; " And bid Kilmar the night-watch set, '* Upon the northern parapet." No more Danmonium's chieftain said To Serf, or Seneschal, But paced again, with measured tread, Along th'embrasured wall. III. A careless eye, perhaps, might trace Slight difference in form or face. From his wild country's rugged race : Canto III. GORLAYE 71 Far less herculean, and in height, Was he than many a gallant knight That graced his martial train ; Yet he who paused to mark his mien, Might ask himself, perhaps in vain, "NVhence o'er his wildering memory came A power that words might fail to name — Why where that glance of fire fell, Tt bound the spirit in a spell : And he who once that deep glance met. Were cold, or dull, could he forget Those lineaments again. IV. Though skilled, with dauntless eye and hand, To inspire, or awe, his gallant band ; And stern the foe that might not turn, Or quail, where flashed his calib-burne ; He glowed not with that rugged fire, That kindles only fear or ire — That eye could melt as well as burn. 72 GORLAYE Ccmto III. And soft as suiuiner breezes, waving The dewy flowers in Alan's dell ; Or (ianal's wave, o'er gold sands laving, His tojies of music fell ; And Love a brighter smile might wear, I'o read his noblest image there. But lightsome moods from him, alas, I'hough young, of late were doomed to pass ; Kindness with apathy repaid — He trusted but to be betrayed : "^Fhe ray that longest cheered his heart, J?hone but to languish, and depart : And with it went, whate'er had given Him peace on earth, or hope in heaven, I'hus, o'er his star of life, there passed A (loud, that dinuued it to the last ; It came in darkness — rolled in wrath, And scattered blackness in its path. Canto III. GORLAYE 73 V. Too stern to yield — too firm to melt, Too proud to utter what he felt. Slight intercourse he held with all. Who served or sued in tent or hall : Where'er he led or marked the way, 'Twas theirs to follow or obey. Dauntless, where flashed their chieftain's sword, They rallied, kindled, and adored ; And deemed it still their highest meed, AVith him to conquer or to bleed. The tyrant of a fettered horde. Who loathe, yet crouch before their lord. May wave his brand — may link his chain For such dominion, but in vain ; The spirit, yet untamed and free. Owns but the mind's supremacy. 6 71 GORLAYK Canto II L VI. He paused some moments, and he leant, His arm upon the battlement : — Smiled o'er the hill the evening star, And the red beacon gleamed afar ; And many a smoke-wreath floating high. Rolled dimlj' o'er the evening sky ; Or lingering in a long track threw O'er tent and tower a misty hue. The foeman's bugle note had died. In echoes, on the mountain's side ; But far away the charger is neighing, And the distant ban-dog is hoarsely baying, And the banners on high In the dark breeze swing. And the raven flaps by On her boding wing. His eye is dark and restless now. And thought is dinted en that brow ." Canto III. GORLAYE 75 And burning hate, or cold despair, Not time, had left its record there. VII. But once that maddening glance I caught- Tis vain to wish it were forgot ; For still the withering spell it brought Comes, and will come, a deathless thing, Time may not shadow with his wing ; Mingling, through every future year, With dreams of darkness and of fear. It breathed dismay, but yet it spoke Not one who shuns or recks the stroke, That threatens fame — dominion — life — Still deeper passions woke to strife, Than aught like these to such impart, Whose bane, hope — empire is the heart. 76 GORLAYE Canto 111. VIII. Not thus, when conscious of being seen» Spoke the proud bearing of his nlien ; Then his pale marble brow concealed, The thoughts he would not have revealed ; And well the magic of his eye. Would each enquiring glance defy IX. Twenty knights, in Dameliock's hall. Had hung their shields upon the wall ; The bow was unstrung, And idly swung Beside the targe and quiver ; As Night proclaimed her dull dominion. And swept, with dun and silent pinion, O'er Roughter's rocks, o'er wood and river. Still each his trusty falchion wore, Nor doft the gauntlet nor the spur ; Canto III. GORLAYE 77 Prepared the signal to obey, If summoned to the battle fray. Warriors of mettle true were they : Pendarves, Carminnow, and Bray, Bodrugan, with his dreadful spear, Carnhel, Arallas, and Kilgear, Godolphin, Connor, Killigr©w, Boscawen, Trevanion, and Cardew ; With fierce Mohun, who bent a bow. That Venta's sons might fail to draw ; And others of Danmonian race, Xot less distinguished in their place. XI. Around the gladdening goblet pass'd, None deemed that night might be their last The young exulted, and the old. Once more their well fought battles told. 78 GORLAYE Canto III. The Hunic harp was wildly strung, And mingling in the dying moan Of passing winds, awoke its tone. And shades of other days, again. Seemed flitting 'round the soothing strain : — The brave who bled — the young who died Like withering flowers, were by the side Of those who loved them, and were left. Like trees of fruit and foliage reft : As true each glance, as bright each brow. As they had only parted now, So well the lay was sung. . . XIL — His eye was dim — his head was grey ; And why so meanly clad ? Alas, I know not of his name. His home, his heritage, or fame, — A tear was on his cheek — away He dashed the drop, and changed his lay, But yet the strain was sad. Canto III. GORLAYE 79 XIII. " Where the Frao, and Clabitter, hide their nest, " High beetlins: o'er the sea ; " The halls of my fathers suffice for rest — " A home for my harp and me. " They echo not now to the bugle's call — " The banners are in the dust, " That floated so gallantly on the wall, " And the sword is dim with rust. " And man with his visions of hope and pride, " That brighten or dint his brow — " The world, with its changes of time and tide, " To me are as nothing now — " Or but as the clouds of yesterday, " Or the sunbeams of last year ; " Gone — without a trace where they sped away, " In their wantlering career. 80 GORLAYE Canto III' " Like the winds that kiss the summer flower, " Ami pass with a farewell moan ; " And my harp has lost its spell of power, " For its chords have changed their tone ; " Since the friends of my youth have before me gone, " And my ties to earth are reft ; *' For they've faded before me, o»e by one, " Until I alone am left. *' Still, oft, when the sun in the ocean dips, " They come as heretofore, *' In music and smiles, and on their lips " Are words I may hear no more. *' As a cloud from the hill, away they pass, " And I am left desolate — *' I hear but the wind in the rustling grass, Or the wild dog at the gate. *' As mist and shadow o'er river and hill, " By the wing of Midnight cast, Canto III. GORLAYE 81 " The cloud of Time — the dark demon of ill, •' Has over my spirit, pass'd. " And I must away to my desert home, " Where the wild bird hangs her nest ; " For wherever my weary footsteps roam, " The farthest from man the bq||;.'" XIV. Then other sons of song began, With praise of Valour's well won way, In times of olden Chivalry ; Of legend wild — of fearful thing, Forewarned by the Berthuan's wing : His mountain harp Tal'efin rang. And Gwilym Ddu o'Arfon sang ; And thus his wild dark numbers ran : — XV. *' The dark winds have passed to the caverns of sleep, «' And the spirit of Slumber broods over the deep ; 82 CORLAYE Canto III. " But still, in the valley of Deru, the river " Rolls on, in its music of waters, as ever. " The eagle has stooped to the home of his rest — " The cormorant soared to her rock-riven nest ; " But the wail of Berthuan, the shriek of the Seoul, " O'er the desert moors mingle with Blaidth's sullen howl — " Like the moan of the spirits that ride on the gale, ' ' Scare the dreams of the sons of the mountain and vale ; " And the bark of Madre Allaidh, the yell of Koitgath, ** Round the tent of the foeman, are signals of wrath. — " The moonray is bright on the fountain and rill, •' But the Omen-sprite glares from his cloud on the hill — " Not a leaf, nor a flower, is stirred by his breath, " But the spell that he utters is colder than death : Canto III. GORLAYE 83 " He turns his red eye to the moon in her wane, " And deep is the curse which he breathes for the Dane; "As withering- the tones of his malison fall, " For the tents of the Roman — the mountains of Gaul. " Lance of Danmonium ! awaken — 'tis time " Your foemen should fall in dishonour and crime ; " Let Despair, as the night wind which withers the blossom, " Blast the charm of their life, the last hope of their bosom. — " Let the banner be riven, and trampled in dust " With the sword left beside it all reddened with rust : — " There Hap your red pinions, dark demon of Slaughter! " Over hearts' blood as chill as the ice-stricken water." XVL Hark ! — who that rousing war-note blew ?— Hushed is the harp of Gwilym Ddu; 84 OORLAYE Canto 111. And hoarser echoes wake around, As start the warriors with a bound. Each grasped his blade, and with the speed Of lightning, gained his ready steed — " Up the poctcullis, sally — ho ! — " Out Comrades on the dastard foe ! " Young Gorlaye waved his brand and said, As onward to the charge he led. Foremost the gallant chieftain dash'd, \¥here lances gleamed, and sabres flash'd ; And many a rugged dint and cleft, On shield and haul)erk rudely left, r\nd piume and helmet turn and riven, l^est told the gieetings that were given. And many, onward in that charge, NVith shivered blade and useless targe— Detiance in their gasphig breath, .^purred madly to the game of death. Canto 111. GORLAYE 85 Like wtives, where wind and current meet. Dashed hoarsely on the mingling tide ; And haughty breasts, with crimson dyed. Lay spurned beneath their chargers' feet. But who is he, with threat'ning lance, With raven steed, and blood-red plume. Shoots like a demon through the gloom, A nd urges — leads the foes' advance ? Not e'en his bleeding victims' prayer, Can move that raging fiend to spare ; Fain would he stoop to pierce again. The wretch who welters on the plain — 'Tis he, Caersegont's hated lord, Whose hope and law are on his sword ; Come, with his minions at his side, To sue, and fight, for Gorlaye's bride. XVII. How long shall sin retain the power To charm — to win at beauty's bower ? 7 86 GORLAYE Canto 111. The lirst who fell by its device, By Gihon's stream, in Eden's garden, Rather might Mercy stoop to pardon, And give her back her paradise. Than her, who knowing the tempter now, With infamy upon his brow, Yet listens to his subtile suit, And sighs for the forbidden fruit — - She cannot love her Gorlaye's foeraan — But, "frailty, thy name is woman" — XVIII. The sounds that scared the desert hawk — The bugle's blast — the battle's shock — Th' exulting shout — the dying wail — That rose upon the rising gale, Have not an echo left to tell. Of those who conquered, or who fell : For they who came in daring here, Sleep deeply now, or flee in fear. Canto IIL GORLAYE 87 The ray that glints o'er rill and rock. May serve to trace but dimly now, The blood upon that pallid brow ; — To glaze that eye — dull — ghastly — wide, That rolled so late in hate or pride — Alas, to-morrow's sub Will find on many a lip the dew, On many a cheek a marble hue, — Then pause upon the scene, and view What man to man hath done ! XIX. Few sands have run since rang the note — The warder's gallant blast ; And that bold train, across the moat, In martial order pass'd : In space as brief as I relate, Again they reached Dameliock's gate ; Yet some have tarried on the plain. Who ne'er may pass that gate again. 88 GORLAYE Canto 111. XX. Why do we measure life by time, And count the dull years, as away They fade before us, day by day ? One moment — and the burning brain May range an age of bliss or pain — The past, the present — future lot. Like an eternity to thought ; The bursting of a moment's hate. May hurl the soul to consummate. An immortality of crime : The blast that blows one chilly hour. Withers the beauty of the flower ; And sunny skies may smile, in vain. To bring it back to life again, XXI. 'Twere vain of Gorlaye's mood to ask, His brow was shadowed by his casque : Canto HI.