"O NIGHTINGALE! THOU SURELY ART." O NIGHTINGALE! thou surely art A creature of a fiery heart: These notes of thine-they pierce and pierce; Tumultuous harmony and fierce! Thou sing'st as if the god of wine Of shades, and dews, and silent night; I heard a stock-dove sing or say "THREE YEARS SHE GREW IN SUN AND SHOWER." THREE years she grew in sun and shower, On earth was never sown; This child I to myself will take; She shall be mine, and I will make A lady of my own. "Myself will to my darling be Both law and impulse: and with me In earth and heaven, in glade and bower, Shall feel an overseeing power To kindle or restrain. "She shall be sportive as the fawn And hers shall be the breathing balm, Of mute insensate things. "The floating clouds their state shall lend To her; for her the willow bend: Nor shall she fail to see Even in the motions of the storm Grace that shall mould the maiden's form "The stars of midnight shall be dear To her; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound into her face. Shall pass "And vital feelings of delight Shall rear her form to stately height, Her virgin bosom swell; Such thoughts to Lucy I will give While she and I together live Here in this happy dell." Thus Nature spake-the work was done How soon my Lucy's race was run; She died and left to me This heath, this calm and quiet scene; The memory of what has been, And never more will be. "A SLUMBER DID MY SPIRIT SEAL." A SLUMBER did my spirit seal; I had no human fears: She seemed a thing that could not feel No motion has she now, no force; She neither hears nor sees, Rolled round in earth's diurnal course THE HORN OF EGREMONT CASTLE. To the horn which there was hanging; Horn it was which none could sound, No one upon living ground, Save he who came as rightful heir To Egremont's domains and castle fair. Heirs from ages without record Who of right had claimed the lordship Each at the appointed hour power; He was acknowledged: and the blast Which good Sir Eustace sounded was the last. With his lance Sir Eustace pointed, And to Hubert thus said he "What I speak this horn shall witness For thy better memory. Hear, then, and neglect me not! The words are uttered from my heart, "On good service we are going In which course if Christ our Saviour sinful soul demand, Do my Hither come thou back straightway, Return, and sound the horn, that we May have a living house still left in thee!" "Fear not!" quickly answered Hubert; What thou askest, noble brother, To Palestine the brothers took their way. Side by side they fought (the Lucies And where'er their strokes alighted, Whence, then, could it come-the thought By what evil spirit brought? Oh! can a brave man wish to take His brother's life, for land's and castle's sake? "Sir!" the ruffians said to Hubert, "Deep he lies in Jordan's flood," Stricken by this ill assurance, Pale and trembling Hubert stood. "Take your earnings. Oh that I He has nothing now to dread. And at an hour which nobody could name. None could tell if it were night-time, Night or day, at even or morn; For the sound was heard by no one With plenty was his table spread; And bright the lady is who shares his bed. Likewise he had sons and daughters; And, as good men do, he sate At his board by these surrounded, And while thus in open day Once he sate, as old books say, A blast was uttered from the horn, 'Tis the breath of good Sir Eustace! |