REDBURN OR THE SCHOOLMASTER MELVILLE? 1845 eo u 0) I Q 12 I I ID i U i i SCHOOLMASTER OP A MORNING. N E W - Y O R K : WM. M. CHRISTY, No. 2, ASTOR HOUSE. M DCCC XLV. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in tne year 1844, In the Clerk's Office of tlie District Court for the Southern District of New- York. I.DBWIO. PRINT! Nos. TO and 72, Yesey-st. THE ANNOUNCEMENT. CANTO I. i. CLOSE where Tioga's hill- side fires Smoke, dull, above Owego's spires, On a sweet stream whose silvery tide Swells the broad Susquehannah's pride, So near the road that passers-by Hear the loud laugh ring merrily, Embrown'd and rotted by long years, Its front a district school-house rears : Here congregate a healthy flock, Stout scions of a sturdy stock ! Here the thwack'd dullard rubs his sconce, Here, ferule -smitten, roars the dunce, Here boy and girl sit side by side, And gallantry gives way to pride REUBURN. When mingle in the mental strife The future man and future wife. ii. Here, too, when snows have robed the hills, And crisping frosts have edged the rills, When smoking horses spurn the ground And sleigh-bells ring with merry sound Mocking the moaning of the trees, Here, with the viol 'twixt his knees The man of octaves leads the song, And guides the voices of the throng. And here, too, on God's holy day, Good folk repair to praise and pray : The patriarch leaning on his staff, The skipping child with merry laugh, The sober dame that chides its mirth, The maid, light springing from the earth, The growing swain, the lusty sire, Don, all, their holiday attire, Dot, in gay guise, the winding road, And go up joyful to the house of God. THE ANNOUNCEMENT. III. Now, as around the portal stand The swains, with pocket-buried hand, Their Sunday garments with the fair Their gaze of admiration share There are who fancy sun-burnt hinds Snuff bashfulness up with the winds, That diffidence in meadows breeds And on grass-kissing zephyrs feeds Let such but view our school-house porch : Does shame the bumpkin's visage scorch ? Can town-bred fops with bolder air Than gaping boors at beauty stare ? Trust rne, fresh breezes never can, Nor corn-fields, make a modest man ; And though Tioga's sturdy race Haply might boast the florid face, Theirs was an everlasting blush, And suns and swarthy labour caused the flush. REDBURN. Now from the distant highway, heaiv What hideous noise salutes the ear I Mounted a goodly height in air And doubled up within The backless ruin of a chair, Whose seat, by dint of constant wear,. Served as a passage for the air, Save when a human shape sat there, With knees beneath his chin, Th' approaching priest with many a thwack Galls fearfully his donkey's back , And onward, as his voiceful wheels With grating and discordant squeals- For grease entreating, roll, Full many a wistful glance he steals Towards the distant goal. v. With some half-dozen falls or more The spavin'd charger finds the door. THE ANNOUNCEMENT. Now 'neath the shed the beast is tied, The priest looks grave and dignified, Pulls down his vest to make it meet The clothes it long hath ceased to greet, Gives back each yeoman's iron grasp With a well-meant but gentler clasp, Enters the house with serious air, And brushing up his scatter'd hair, Looks round upon his flock with care, To see if all the sheep are there. VI. Soon rises from the assembled! throng The simple sound of rustic song, As old and young together raise Their grateful notes in heartfelt praise And now the solemn prayer ascends, The yielding knee in suppliance bends, And all, by grave and decorous mien, Lend grace and beauty to the scene. . 1* 10 REDBURX. The sermon through, the Scriptures read, The solemn benediction said, And all the simple service o'er, The people turn them to the door But sudden halt and look around To hear of Harvey's voice the sound ; Young Harvey, who amid the train A Brummel was, much envied swain, Who jealous rivals oft would vex By his vast influence with the sex, But was so brave and strong of limb, That they yet fear'd who envied him. VII. Potent Ambition oft hath moved Those, who have hated or have loved, To win, by deeds of high renown, Fame, woman, riches, or a crown. Harvey, to tell the honest truth, Hated not e'en the envious youth Who hated him, for conscious worth Makes hate and jealousy its mirth. THE ANNOUNCEMENT. 11 But Eros, with a poison'd arrow, Had fired with love his youthful marrow. The smooth, brown hair, the rich, red lip, The white chin with its dimpled tip, The arching brow, the fringing lash 'Neath which the eye would melt or flash, The bounding step, the ringing voice, The laugh which made the heart rejoice, And every other charm and grace Marking sweet Ellen's form or face, Had touch'd young Harvey's tender heart, And bade him act some nobler part. Prompted by hope, inspired by love, With zealous diligence he strove,- Became a politician, sought For freemen's suffrages unbought, Reached e'en the weathercock of fame, And * School-Inspector ' wrote his name. VIII. His wishes gained, the Inspector found That Glory was an empty sound ; 12 REDBURN. For often when the fading sun Told him his daily toil was done, When home he hied from field or woody Thinking in happy, musing mood, How he would doff his shabby suit, Spurn the coarse cow-hide from his foot. To scintillation brush his hair And then to Ellen's home repair, Some ragged urchin he would meet, With quicken'd breath and hastening feet,. To dash to earth the frothing cup With expectation bubbling up, And bid him for such recreation Attend some dull examination. IX. Such circumstances often happing, Ellen thought Harvey's love was napping, Gave sweeter smiles to other swains, And filPd his heart with cruel pains. Disgusted, our Inspector swore, He 'd seek nor fame nor honour more, THE ANNOUNCEMENT. 13 And once his term of office past, His first offence should be his last. And now young Harvey spake, and told Growing with every word more bold How, on the morrow would arrive From great Manhatta's teeming hive, Where human bees on busy wing Swarm, build, get, save, are stung and sting, A pedagogue of likely parts, SkilPd in the sciences and arts, To train the blossoming idea, And fill Tioga's boys with fear ; How, on the morrow, just as soon As dawning into day had grown, Those boys should to the school repair, Kindle the fading embers there, Pile the big, pitchy pine-knots higher, To build the blazing, crackling fire, In gay and healthy sports engage, Or turn the ragged, thumb-worn page, 14 REDBURN. Till in the stage-coach rumbling near The new schoolmaster should appear, To lead them safe through learning's bog, And when they needed it to flog. XI. Have you ne'er, as ;;ou sat of a summer's day In the shade of the tree at noon, When the harp-strings of nature were swept to play A sweet and a varied tune, When the streamlet danced quick to its own soft note On the floor of the slippery stone, And the melody gusi t'd from the wild bird's throat, And the breeze had a pleasant tone, Have you ne'er from the distant, clover-spread lea, Heard a gradual murmur come, As his provident caro the weariless bee Enliven'd with musical hum ? XII. So now, borne lightly on the gale That swept along Tioga's vale THE ANNOUNCEMENT. 15 And fann'd yon hillock's brow, The mingled questionings that rose Quick following this announcement's close, Came, like a whisper, low : And she whose duties kept her feet From seeking the accustom'd seat Within the house of prayer, Sweet Ellen, tripping towards the spring With shining pail, pure drink to bring To cheer the mid-day fare, Caught the commingling voices' tone And well its meaning guess'd, For Harvey to her ear alone The secret had confess'd ; And now, whilst through the eager crowd Just issuing from the school, Inquiry and surmise grew loud Of him who should bear rule, She, conscious that she knew the truth, That the new teacher was a youth On the wide world an orphan thrown To meet its bufferings alone, 16 REDBUR]*. And for his service he would share In turn the farmer's homely fare With some small pay beside, Smiled, as a calm complacency Beam'd sweetly from her placid eye, And toss'd her head unconsciously To think that she should wed so high, And be th' Inspector's bride. THE ARRIVAL -> CANTO II. MAJESTIC, glowing, fiery red, Fresh from his azure -curtained bed, Phoebus, who earth with gladness fills, Rises behind Tioga's hills, Bathes him in floating mists of blue, Quaffs a great draught of morning dew, Looks in the river at his face, Then mounts aloft with towering pace, And at each stride grows hotter in the race. ii. Gladsome to feel his first warm glance, The half-clad lambkins frisk and dance, The barn-yard coxcomb flaps his wings, And, swelling with importance, sings ; 20 REDBURX. The approving harem strut around, And, gravely cackling, peck the ground, Whilst some nigh-swaggering chanticleer, Chancing his rival-cock to hear, Hies to the fence -top, fierce and proud, And shrilly shouts defiance loud. in. Catching his master's whistle near, The hungry steed pricks up his ear, And snuffing far the grateful grain, Neighs till the old barn rings again ; And the blithe milk-maid trips along, Cheating the distance with her song, Or, switch'd by good old brindle's tail, Presses the udder o'er the pail. IV. Now where the mellowing morning light Gilds the far vision-bounding height, The approaching stage-coach heaves in sight. A moment on the hillock's brow, THE ARRIVAL. 21 To let his jaded horses blow, The driver rests then grasps the rein Full tight, ere yet he start again : Now cheerily and loud he cries, In ringing twirl the swift whip flies, Fierce, foaming, madden'd by the lash, Down the smooth steep the horses dash Urged by the flying wheels, they bound, And all the pastures quake around ! v. Trembling with fear, the little lamb Nestles beside its bleating dam ; The frisky wethers leave their play And shoot across the fields away, Whilst the old bucks, with solemn stare, Wonder what silly folk go there. Dashing by where the milk-maid kneels, In sudden turn the stage-coach wheels, Clatters along the branching lane That feeds the goslings of the plain, ^ . 22 REDBURN. Frights every straggling calf and pig Into a strange impromptu jig, And lures from far with bristling tail, Each snarling mastiff of the vale. VI. And now it climbs the hill again, Now strive the steeds with sturdy strain, The traces stiffen out like steel, Hoarse groans the hot and thirsty wheel, The driver, listless, leans him back, The reins hang unemploy'd and slack, So slow its weary way it takes, The coach grows yellow from the dust it makes. VII. Lo ! now along the grass-fringed way, Where breakfast-seeking cattle stray, You see the blue, slow-curling smoke, Caressing soft the spreading oak 'T is there, with Pipkins of the hill, Our teacher cancels first his bill THE ARRIVAL. 23 And now, as the ascent is past, The noisy coach rolls onward fast, The exalted driver, big with pride, Rises erect, and from his side Draws forth a venerable horn, By use, of shape and polish shcrn, Drives the air through it swift and strong, Till the far hills the notes prolong, And, as his crimson cheeks inflate, Sweeps up before John Pipkin's gate. VIII. The magic of that trumpet bias*: Was wonderful, I ween ; For scarcely were its echoes past, Than to the window crowding fist, Big, yellow heads were seen : Great boys and girls, with tang ed locks, And imps, with visages and frooks Of the same pattern all whose sex The best discernment would perplex, 24 REDBURIf. All forward press'd, agog to see What sort of teacher it might be ; And when, as stopp'd the coach, a bound Brought the schoolmaster to the ground, A murmur of surprise went round. 'T was no old wretch, whose sullen looks Told but of punishment and books, But a fair youth, whose eye of blue The light of anger never knew. And now, as Pipkins, with rude grace, Welcomed the stranger to the place, The swains and children, half amazed, Still gaping, through the window gazed, Whilst the fair maids a passing view, In the clock-door's bright surface threw, And with prim smiles upon their faces, Around the chimney took their places. IX. Soon now, invited by the sire, Young Redburn warm'd him by the fire, THE ARRIVAL. 25 Where the great bubbling pot steam'd fast With incense from the morn's repast ; And the soft, dimpled, white-cheek'd cake Hite and consistency did take Nor was -it long ere Pipkins led The way to where the meal was spread There mighty stimulant to work- Smoked the fat, favourite mess of pork, All reeking with the fragrant smell The rustic nostril loves so well ; And there full many a dainty dish Might satisfy the choicest wish,-^- Whilst high, presiding o'er the whole, Tower'd a generous-looking bowl, Brimming with apple's luscious sauce, From which each rustic help'd in course, Hurrying his cup-spoon forth and back, Telling his joy with sounding smack. I 've heard them tell of a way of yore, When Dutchmen sat at meat, 26 REDBURN. How there hung by a cord their noses before A mammoth loaf of wheat ; And anon each man, with gesture gruff, Would clutch the dangling bread, And when he had gnawed its surface enough, Let it swing at his neighbour's head : Now these old worthies were bless'd with a choice, To eat from a nibbled spot, Or, if their palates were over-nice, Where tooth had enter'd not ; But 't is not so with the mingling mass Inviting each spoon to the bowl, The ladle polluting one part of the sauce, Throws a shadow of doubt o'er the whole. XI. Soon as the morning meal was o'er. Our hero left old Pipkin's door. The sunny air had grown more mild, In gay apparel nature smiled, And with full many a happy voice, From hill and valley did rejoice. THE ARRIVAL. 27 The brook did brawl in foamy fall Adown the bright cascade, Or rippled along with a gurgling song, As the spray and sunlight played ; The pleasant South did ope her mouth And murmuringly blow, And to the trees the swelling breeze Whisper'd with music low. XII. Descending now the hillock's side, The gorgeous prospect spreading wide, And glowing in the morning light, Show'd to the eye a goodly sight : The sloping sward where Redburn stood, RolFd smoothly down for many a rood, And with the vale so gently blended, You scarce might mark the spot it ended ; There, close beside the yellow road, Coursed the clear river, bright and broad, Gladding the green and laughing bank Where the tall bending grass grew rank, m 28 Whilst far upon the other side, Stretch'd a great plain in verdant pride, From whose fair bosom quick arose A steep where close the forest grows ; So near one tree-top to the other, Each elm seem'd whispering to its brother, And though a thousand tufts were mingled, One from the rest could not be singled Such dainty drapery Nature weaves, A mountain side of little leaves ! XIII. Seem'd it as though a carpet-bale Had tumbled out of Heaven, Roll'd down the hill in opening trail, And spread its huge bulk o'er the vale, All smoothly laid and even ; The white sheep on its surface strewn, Seemed tufts within the texture sewn, And bush, and flower, and tree-stump gray, Were mellow'd into figures gay, THE ARRIVAL. 29 Enliven'd by the streamlet's play That towards the river took its way ; A thousand tints on ground of green More gorgeous carpet ne'er was seen. XIV. As down the vale the eye would range, 'T was beauteous still, but grandly strange, To mark the scenery's wondrous change Tall pines stood on the mountain-side, Bristling like warriors in their pride, And stretch'd their arms in high disdain, Tow'ring all proudly o'er the plain ; There, like a slaughter'd army lay, Scathed trunks and limbs in wild array, All scorched and grimly black with smoke, And cleft as if by battle -stroke ; And ever, as the winds would blow, The pines looked scornfully below, Like victors o'er a conquer'd foe, And, jeering, laughed, " So ho ! so ho ! " 30 REDBURN. XV. As Redburn gazed, the fence-bound road Far in the distance clouded, show'd What, as more rapidly it near'd, A gay and saddled steed appear'd Graceful he seem'd, well-form'd and slim, With arching neck and sinewy limb, And toss'd his pretty head on high, Touching the ground disdainfully. Proud he might well be, for he bare A rider, wondrous, passing fair ; Upon her head a tassell'd cap, Held by a narrow silver strap, Her swelling bust with velvet bound, That, close and loving, went around And 'neath her feet, neglected, flowing The blue skirt in the light wind blowing Deck'd in such sweet simplicity No more adornment needed she. THE ARRIVAL. 31 XVI. Lovely, indeed, was Clara Ray, Worthy than mine far nobler lay. Light was her form as made for air Braided with sunshine seem'd her hair, The circle of her soft, gray eye, Floated in liquid brilliancy ; The dewy sweetness of her lip, Nectar-drinking gods might sip, And the rich flush upon her cheek, Kiss'd by the winds in amorous freak, Glow'd with a tempting hue so warm, But, that it madden'd, it might charm ; XVII. Gay flowers she held in one fair hand, Using the other for command ; And whilst as, with the fresh breeze playing, A bright curl o'er her cheek came straying, She raised the nosegay to her face To brush the ringlet to its place, 32 BED BURN. The motion, as they flirted by, Caught the high-mettled steed's quick eye He stretch 'd his nostril, raised his ear^ . And started as in sudden fear. " So, sir ! " she cried in sportive mood, " Gently, young beast of gentle blood, " Nay, do my flowers affright you so ? " Snuff them, good Ruby, what ! So ho ! " She dropp'd the nosegay from her clasp, She seized the rein with stronger grasp The horse, affrighted, snorted loud He reard aloft in posture proud Fair rider ! all thy skill and power Are needed in such dangerous hour t She staggers on the heaving seat, A moment, and beneath his feet Her form like stubble had been crush'd, When down the hill-side Redburn rush'd She falls ! but safe the danger's past, A strong arm holds the bridle fast, Another round her waist is cast. THE ARRIVAL. 33 XVIII. He lay her, swooning, on the ground, Fast to a tree the horse he bound ; Then watch'd her pale and lovely brow, Till came again the blood's warm glow Her eyes unclosed, then, as in fear She gazed around, but seeing near The panting steed, she faintly smiled, And spoke in accents sweet and mild : " My foolishness," she said, " I fear, " Brave youth, had like to cost you dear 5 " Ruby, I thought, was kind, though young " Great Heaven ! " she cried, and quickly sprung Strong and recover'd from the ground, "Young sir, you have received a wound !" 'T was true, indeed, and from his knee The warm blood trickled fast and free- He bent himself, and slowly 'round The bleeding limb his kerchief bound 2* 34 REDBURISr. And though his cheek his lips belied, " Fair maid, 't is naught," he gayly cried, " Be not disturbed for me, I pray, " I have to go but little way, " Where o'er yon hill the children play." xx. The girl, with sweet and pitying look Regarded him, then slowly took Her way to where her young horse stood Here waited she in pensive mood A moment, then, from off a mound Sprang to her seat with gentle bound, Shook back her thickly clustering hair, Bade Redburn nurse himself with care, Spoke an adieu in hurried tone, Turn'd, drew the bridle, and was gone. THE SCHOOL CANT O III. ROUND the house in merry whirl Sport the happy troop, Chased and chasing, boy and girl, With laugh and ringing whoop- The homely hood is laid aside And the tresses wildly flow, And quickly runs the blood's warm tide, And bright the faces glow. Cheerly, cheerly, almost caught ! Stout heart may never miss, A bound, the toil was not for naught, The race hath gain'd a kiss I Now they form in solid ring Round the hat-piled heap, With uncertain sway they swing, And with caution leap. 38 REDBURN. But the flowing train of a sprightly maid Hath made the pillar trip, And the price of her carelessness is paid On many a laughing lip. il. And now hurrah ! for the speeding ball Is flung in the viewless air, And where it will strike in its rapid fall The boys are hastening there And the parted lip and the eager eye Are following its descent, Whilst the baffled stumbler's falling cry With th' exulting shout is blent. The leader now of either band Picks cautiously his men, And the quickest foot and the roughest hand Are what he chooses then. And see ! the ball, with swift rebound, Flies from the swinging bat, While the player spurns the beaten ground, Nor heeds his wind-caught hat. THE SCHOOL. 39 But the ball is stopp'd in its quick career, And is sent with a well-aim'd fling, And he dodges to feel it whistling near, Or leaps at its sudden sting, Whilst the shot is hail'd with a hearty shout, As the wounded one stops short, For his ' side ' by the luckless blow is out And the others wait their sport. HI. Now in the school, whose warm-lipp'd fire Kiss'd the chill morning air, Pretty despite their prim attire Gossipp'd the damsels fair ; Clad in high shoe and woollen sock, Whose office 't was to warm ; And hiding 'neath the homespun frock No artificial form Some through the cloth with fingers quick The nimble needle drove, And others with continual click The seamless stocking wove ; 40 REDBURN. Some criticised the latest styles Of hoods and calicoes, And others, with bewitching smiles, Talked with the sturdy beaux, Telling whate'er they chanced to know Of like, or jealousy, Nor letting false, coquettish show, Give to their hearts the lie. IV. I 've seen where Fashion's stately hall Was glittering with the festival, Where jewels, Tivall'd by the eye Of beauty, sparkled brilliantly, Where feet sprung at the viol's sound, And smile and compliment went round, But where false custom's chilling form Suppress'd the language bold, And though the yearning heart were warm, The manner must be cold ; I 've seen the glance whose witching power Was strong as music's spell THE SCHOOL. 41 I 've seen that hinted by the flower. The lip scarce dared to tell ; And I 've watch'd the silent eye's complaint, As it rested on the token, That the heart must keep with forced restraint, Words that might not be spoken ;^ And I 've turn'd away from scenes like this To the farm and the country cheer, And have laugh'd right loud at the hearty kiss And the ringing box of the ear And have wish'd man's heart had ne'er more guile Than of what the hind might tell, And that woman wore always as true a smile As that of the rustic belle. v. Now grew the hearth-surrounding train, Lengthen'd by urchin, maid and swain, All radiant with health ; And as they chatted round the blaze, Burst with its warmth the leaping maize, And show'd its pulpy wealth ; 42 REDBURN. The bloated apple's heated tide Hiss'd white and simmering from its side, And on the floor confusedly strown Lay curved, fantastic parings, thrown Over the head, with magic art, To tell the leaning of the heart ; Whilst shrewdly was the number guess'd Of the black seeds in hand compress'd ; And gayly many a sylvan game Went on before that cheerful flame. VI. O, how I love the mellow Fall, Whose bracing, frost-tipp'd days Bid young and aged, one and all, Meet round the crackling blaze : 'T is the prime of the year ere his locks grow sere, Or his powers begin to fail, And he shows his strength by the mighty length Of his rich and fruitful trail ; Then with the generous harvest's store The barns o'eiioaded groan, THE SCHOOL. 43 And all across the orchard's floor The golden wealth is strown, And the laughter loud from the rustic crowd Full well the time doth suit, As the husk is shorn of the yellow corn, And the sharp knife cuts the fruit. VII. The stooping hinds with sinews lithe Sweep the sharp weapon round, And yielding to the cradled scythe, The buckwheat lines the ground ; Then they pile the wain till the horses strain Each nerve to drag the load, And they loiter along with laugh and song To the barn beside the road VIII. Laughing as many a tale is told Of gay life down the stream, When, battling with the waters bold, The raftman's oar would gleam, 44 REDBURN. When, as old Earth put on her cap Of darkness for the night, They nestled in the still bay's lap, Waiting the morning light, And ere sweet sleep refresh'd their powers, Roam'd to the hill-side glades, To wile away the evening hours With merry, bright-eyed maids ; And singing haply now an air That cheer'd their bosoms then, Or love -song wild that rustic fair Might hear in lonely glen ; And now perchance some simple lay, Telling of woodland bliss ; And now in numbers rude but gay, A homely air like this : IX. THE DRINKING SONG OF THE RUSTIC. Ho ! pour the liquid high Till it kiss the goblet's brink, THE SCHOOL. 45 Pure and bright as woman's eye Drink cheerly drink ! The hot -spiced wine from the southern vine Burneth the reason up, And the sensual sip of the liquorish lip Toys with a deadly cup : Grass and flowers Drink the showers, Birds dip from the spring, In full measure, Sparkling treasure, Pearly water bring ! Ho ! pour the liquid high, Till it kiss the goblet's brink, Pure and bright as woman's eye, Drink cheerly drink ! x. And now, as with slow step, and lame, Redburn pursued his way, Mingled with notes like these there came The sounds of boyish play, 46 REDBURN. Soften'd, ere yet they reach'd his ear, By the slight hill between, Yet telling that the school lay near, Long ere its smoke was seen. Then first the chimney came in view, The slant roof where green moss-tufts grew, Then the gray, shingled wall Till, as he reach'd the overlooking height, Full plain he caught the pleasant sight, And heard the merry call. XI. Nor, as he reach'd that height, I ween, Was the schoolmaster's self unseen : Many an urchin left his sport, Many a love -tale was cut short ; And as when, at the dead of night, Men arm them sudden for the fight, Roused by the roll of drums, So now each quiet breast was stirr'd And through the startled school was heard The brush of feet the warning word, " The new schoolmaster comes ! " THE SCHOOL. 47 And like those men in order forra'd, Firm, strong, by desperation warm'd, And yet like statues still. So now with eyebrows tightly knit, And lips compress'd as in a fit, Most sternly did the scholars sit As he came down the hill. XII. Yet, in good sooth, they did relax, And pliant did the muscles wax About the firm-set mouth, As prying urchins looked askance, And maidens cast a furtive glance Upon the entering youth, To see how little need might be To stand in awe of such as he. The damsels, smiling, thought the swain Well might adorn the suitor train, And lightly laugh'd at punishment When beau and pedagogue were blent ; 48 REDBURN. And the glad urchins, with sly wink, Cuii'd a contemptuous lip to think How much a teacher should be fear'd Whose chin scarce darken'd with a beard. XIII. Now 't was indeed a weary task For one so sick and weak, The question of the dolt to ask And the rough word to speak ; And when the distant cock with joy Told the glad hour of noon, As little as the restless boy Thought he, it came too soon ; But from the schoolroom's fetid air, And noise, he gladly stroll'd, Seeking the sheep-nipt meadow where The gurgling streamlet roll'd ; And here upon the soft, green grass Haply to ease his pain, He waited till the hour should pass And school begin again. ^> THE DENOUEMENT, CANTO IV. WOULD you know why the rivulet ripples along, In the centre so brawling and fast, While the stream at the side is not rapid or strong, And the water seems loth to go past ? Oh ! the brook at the edge has the green bank to kiss, As it laughs in the field-flower's eye, But the desolate channel enjoys no such bliss, And so dashes all jealously by. n. Now, stretch 'd upon the grassy bank, Redburn's ear the music drank 52 REDBURN. Of brooklet at his feet, And as the gentle murmur crept Soothing, across his sense, he slept With slumber light but sweet. He dream'd, and thoughts of other days Came o'er his soul like sunny rays. Now sat he by the cheerful hearth, The frequent scene of quiet mirth, Where happy faces shone more bright, Reflecting one another's light ; And the free-hearted laugh gave zest To dullest tale and poorest jest, Now wander'd through the pleasant glade, Where oft in childhood he had stray'd, Watching the birds, or culling flowers, Unconscious of the passing hours, Or chased the mottled butterfly, Whose hues he mark'd with wondering eye, And now amid the glittering throng He stood, where rose the joyous song, Where bright eyes gave back glance for glance, And light feet twinkled in the dance, THE DENOUEMENT. 53 Till revelry consumed the night, And mixed its glare with morning light. in. And now his vision seem'd to change, And all was beautifully strange. Far as the eye could reach, was spread A vale, fit for the fairies' tread ; Upon its arbours grew such fruit The fairies' dainty taste might suit, And every leaf and every flower Might deck a fairy's nuptial bower. Through the bright valley flow'd a stream, Where, 'twixt the trees, the sun would gleam And kiss the wave in laughing play, Though jealous leaves would often stray To keep him from the foam away. And now, whilst sportive fishes leap'd Up from the sparkling brim, and peep'd, Perchance to catch a moment's sight Of tree and flower so green and bright, * 54 KEDBURN. The dreamer, gladden'd with the view, Near the clear stream and nearer drew. He gain'd a soft grass-cushion'd seat, For weary fay to slumber, meet, And sat him down as in a trance, Drunk with the gladness of a glance ! IV. Quick now, and oftener arose The fishes to the brim, And every time, with jeering nose, They pointed straight at him. They seem'd the surface to attain To take a passing view, Then, sportingly, dove down again, And others, in their sparkling train, Up to the top they drew. Then, when their ever-growing force Seem'd full a thousand strong, Straight to the shore they took their course, An army, broad and long ! And as they came in such array, THE DENOUEMENT. 5o And shook their shiny fin, Their tails seem'd in a constant play. Their faces on a grin. Now, horrors ! how their bodies grow, How fierce their rolling eyes ! And, as the yielding wave they plow, How the big billows rise 1 They gain the bank, they swiftly spring Upon the soft, green sward, And, as they land, their shouts' loud ring From shore to shore is heard 1 Round him, in circle firm and strong With measured tramp they close, They drag Mm on the grass along, They pluck him by the nose ! And as they dance about him now Or clutch him by the hair, More human-like their features grow, And their young, grinning faces show The children of his care ! 56 KEDBURIT. V. He shouted out so sore beset He strove their forms to clasp, Their slimy shapes were fishes yet They glided through his grasp t In agony he roll'd around, As with a writhing eramp, When suddenly he caught the sound- Of coming horse's tramp. The little wretches heard it too, One farewell pinch they gave, And then, with devilish halloo, They plunged into the wave* The steed came on with thundering sound, With flowing tail and mane, Reach'd the young dreamer at a bound, Then yielded to the rein. Now, soothingly a bright eye beam'd; A fair form o'er him bent, Till, to a shape of earth, it seem'd Was angel's sweetness lent. THE DENOUEMENT. 57 VI. 'T was but a moment and again Came the deep, agonizing pain. The burning current madly flew Like wild-fire through each vein, And, as more fierce the fever grew, Devils and imps, a hellish crew, Seem'd dancing in his brain. . They kept their revels till his head, Swelling, seem'd fit to burst, And down his throat pour'd molten lead, Scorching his tongue with thirst. Yet ever through such dismal dream As such dark forms would whirl, There flitted, like a transient gleam, That sweet and lovely girl. VII. Raged the fierce fever hot and long, But the young frame is often strong ; 3* 58 JtEDBURN. Two days had gone, the third had broke Since first he slumber'd ere he woke. Then, round, and still around he gazed, And more he look'd, seem'd more amazed. ' T was wondrous all ; had magic power Transported him at midnight hour To some delightful elfine bower ] And lo ! the self-same maiden form With tempting qheek of colour warm, She of the sparkling, clear gray eye That, sweetly pensive, stood so nigh. And where was he and by whose care Had he been brought and tended there 1 VIII. Upon a downy couch he lay, Where the warm zephyr's gentle play In the half-open lattice stealing, Came to him with delicious feeling, Whilst through the dimly-lighted room Floated the rich and rare perfume, Of hyacinths in odorous bloom. THE DENOUEMENT. 59 The maid lean'd, thoughtful, on her hand, Dimpled, and white and small, And tresses, free from comb or band, O'er her pure neck did fall. As thus she stood in silent mood, The door, with noiseless stir, Open'd, and through the passage, came A female, betwixt girl and dame, Who softly call'd to her. Now, quickly did the maiden turn, And on her pretty lip, With anxious look of deep concern, Placed her fair finger's tip. Slowly, the female came more near, And in a whisper spake So low, that though the girl might hear, The sleeper would not wake. As she went on, a passing frown The damsel's face did shroud, As, o'er the moon, at night's high noon, Passeth the flitting cloud. 60 REDBURKf. Then, quietly, with hurried air, She left him to the other's care,- IX. She, with so soft and gentle treat^ The carpet seem'd a downy bed* Noiselessly yielding to her feet, Close by the lattice took her seat.- By the well-fitting, spotless cap, By the trim apron o'er her lap^ By the complacent, placid grace Upon her round and comely face Unchanged, grow patient well or worsev She was the never- weary nurse* She sat a& quietly as death r Scarce seeming e'en to draw a breath. No sound was heard ; such silence reign'd As from its very stillness pain'd, When suddenly, like cannon's roar, Swung on its hinge the great hall door. Up rose the nurse with quick exclaim, Then sat again, and as in shame THE DENOUEMENT. 61 Look'd slow and timidly around, No Redburn had not heard the sound So still he surely was asleep, And she, with stealthy, cautious peep, Thro' the closed lattice gazing down, Saw, striding forth, with bitter frown, And ruffled and perturbed mien, As from some anger- moving scene, One whose success full well she knew - 'Twas Clara's cousin, young Bellue. Clara, an orphan, young and poor, Was welcom'd to her uncle's door. Nursed, with her every want supplied, Rear'd, with no luxury denied, The good old man, ere yet he died, Charged her to wed his sister's son, And join such kindred streams in one. This was his will's express command, That should the maiden give her hand 62 REDBURN. To young Bellue, then, house and land Were fitly holden by such band. But, should the girl, perverse, deny The wished-for marriage knot to tie, Nor yield consent by fixed day, Then, house and land he gave away To a poor orphan youth the son, So gossip Rumour said, of one Whose witching charms, ere while, did move That old man's heart to dreams of love. XI. All men have loved some with a fire As fervid as the burning ire Of that which sweeps the prairie's breast, But, like its fury, soon at rest ; And others, with a. milder flame, Yet ever is its warmth the same. L'Ornay with such a passion burn'd, And, though his love was unreturn'd, And the fair prize another won, Still, when all hope for love was gone, THE DENOUEMENT. 63 Hopeless, he still kept loving on. He wander'd from the haunts of men, He found a sweet secluded glen, And there he lived, the morning shone, And L'Ornay welcomed it alone ; At even, when the moon rode high, He gazed, no other being nigh, And thus, still nourishing the flame, He lived till gentle Clara came. XII. She wound around his lonely heart Like ivy round the oak, And soothed, with tender care, its smart, And accents sweetly spoke ; But yet, although her kindliness Beguiled the dreary hour, O'er his dejected soul no less Grew the strong passion's power. He thought of her he loved till death, And ere he drew his parting breath, Unto her offspring did bequeath 64 REDBURN. Should his fair niece not wed Bellue All that had been that niece's due. XIII. Such was the tale the good nurse told, When Redburn's questions made her bold. She told him, too, that as he lay Asleep, beside the stream, His scholar-imps, in roaring play, With laugh, and dance, and scream Had gather'd round him sportingly, And many a cruel prank Had play'd,.till Clara's train drew nigh And drove them from the bank ;- And that each hour in every day, As restless on his couch he lay, With ever-wandering brain, The gentle maiden would be nigh, Watching with deep anxiety, If she might ease his pain. THE DENOUEMENT. 65 XIV. But when that damsel's own sweet voice Fell, silvery, on his ear, And her full, bright eye did rejoice, Swimming with happy tear, Oh, how his pleasure, undissembled, Gave to his cheek employ, Whilst yet his heart, enraptured, trembled, For fear it dreamt such joy. xv. One day, to try his growing strength, They walk'd along the great hall's length, That ended, where the sunny ray Made leaf, and bud, and blossom gay ; Where many a rare and foreign flower Flourish'd as in its native bower, And fragrance rich and colour bright Oppress'd the senses with delight : Here, tempting, hung, inviting reach, The clust'ring grape and luscious peach $ , 66 REDBURN. And fruits, that scorn our northern air, Grew willing, 'neath unwonted care. Here floated, too, the warbling song Trill'd sweetly from the tiny tongue And lost itself the leaves among. No wonder here they linger'd long, Still lengthening out their pleasant stay, And turn'd, reluctantly, away. XVI. Retiring through the corridor, They came upon a quaint old door Leading into a great, broad room, That seem'd the hiding place of gloom : 'T was here, in sad or studious mood, L'Ornay had courted solitude ; ? T was here the pencil's wondrous grace Show'd pleasant scene and well-sketch'd face, And here hung in its wonted place The form of her, whose witching art Had held such sway o'er L'Ornay's heart ; a THE DENOUEMENT. 67 And Clara, as she led the way, Bade him, in tone half sad, half gay, Come and look on the charms of her Who kill'd her fondest worshipper. XVII. He enter'd, yet with solemn fear, And, slowly following, drew near, Nor halted, till he stood beneath The canvass that had cheated death. He look'd a moment, then, amazed, Started, drew back, then, breathless, gazed : Unconsciously and slow he spoke " My mother ! " and the spell was broke. As bursting light upon the blind, So flash'd the truth on Redburn's mind ; He turn'd himself, he bent the knee, And forth the words came fast and free ; No need for bashful silence now And from the smiling lip, and glow Upon the maiden's cheek and brow, Those were not slighted words, I trow ; 68 REDBURN. Yet what he told the damsel then, I think 'I may not tell again. XVIII. The evening sun, just sinking low Behind the hill-tops blue, Tinged the opposing mountain's brow With a bright, golden hue, XIX. When started from the river's shore A boat, with printless track, While clung the waves around the prore That gently push'd them back. xx. The waters broke 'neath steady stroke Of rower's flashing blade, The deep-cut wound without a sound, Heal'd up as soon as made. THE DENOUEMENT. 69 XXI. With measured sweep they took their course To where the school did stand, Till, driven by a bolder force, The keel ploughed up the sand. XXII. Hark ! loud notes of festivity Are heard from Ellen's home, Where, gathering from afar and nigh, The bridal-bidden come ; XXIII. Maiden and swain in youthful bloom The priest in honour'd state, And Harvey, as the envied groom More happy than when great. XXIV. And they who from that shallop spring, Walk thither side by side, ft 70 HEDBURN. One, close tc whom a maid doth cling Young Redburn and his bride. xxv. They mingle in that happy throng, The gayest of the gay, And listen to the rustic song, And join the rustic play. XXVI. And since they smiled so gladly then Full many a sun has shone, Autumns have pour'd their fruits again, And teachers come and gone : XXVII. And now where stood that moss-grown school, By age and tempests bow'd, The sturdy arm and cunning tool Have rear'd a structure proud ; THE DENOUEMENT. 71 XXVIII. And 'mid its troop of bounding boys And train of laughing girls, I 've seen a little prince of noise, And a little queen of curls, XXIX. Whose features, forms, and graceful air, Their parentage confess, And who have placed those children there, I '11 let the reader guess. THE END. 2 SUPPLIED BY THE SEVEN BOOKHUNTERS STATION H - Box 66 NEW YORK Cn Out-of-Print Books