Felicia Hemans

“ And fields, where mail-clad bosoms prove their worth,
When flashing swords light up the stormy scene.
—He brought a weary heart, a wasted frame,
The Child of Visions from a dungeon came.
On the blue waters, as in joy they sweep,
With starlight floating o'er their swells and falls,
On the blue waters of the Adrian deep,
His numbers had been sung: and in the halls,
Where, through rich foliage if a sunbeam peep,
It seems Heaven's wakening to the sculptured walls,
Had princes listen'd to those lofty strains,
While the high soul they burst from, pined in chains. ”

“ Like a warrior mail'd for the hour of need,
And they fix'd the sword in the cold right hand,
Which had fought so well for his father's land,
And the shield from his neck hung bright.
There was arming heard in Valencia's halls,
There was vigil kept on the rampart-walls;
Stars had not faded, nor clouds turn'd red,
When the Knights had girded the noble Dead,
And the burial-train moved out.
With a measured pace, as the pace of one,
Was the still death-march of the host begun ”

“ With a measured pace, as the pace of one,
Was the slow death-march of the host begun;
With a silent step went the cuirass'd bands,
Like a lion's tread on the burning sands,
And they gave no battle-shout.
But the deep hills peal'd with a cry ere long,
When the Christians burst on the Paynim throng!
With a sudden flash of the lance and spear,
And a charge of the war-steed in full career,
It was Alvar Fanez* [2] came! ”

“ Ye have given the lovely to the earth's embrace,
She hath taken the fairest of Beauty's race!
With their laughing eyes and their festal crown,
They are gone from amongst you in silence down.
They are gone from amongst you, the bright and fair,
Ye nave lost the gleam of their shining hair!
—But I know of a world where there falls no blight,
I shall find them there, with their eyes of light! ”

“ There shines no sun through the land of dead,
But where the day looks not the brave may tread;
There is heard no song, and no mead is pour'd,
But the warrior may come to the silent board
In the shadow of the night. ”

“ And the Campeador came stately then,
Like a leader circled with steel-clad men!
The helmet was down o'er the face of the Dead,
But his steed went proud, by a warrior led,
For he knew that the Cid was there.
He was there, the Cid, with his own good sword,
And Ximena following her noble lord ”

“ When the soul's wing is broken, comes like rain
Withheld till evening, on the stately flowers
Which wither'd in the noontide, ne'er again
To lift their heads in glory!—So doth Earth
Breathe on her gifts, and melt away their worth! ”

“ With their bright spray-showers to the Lake!
Earth has no spring to quench the thirst
That semblance in his soul shall wake,
For ever pouring through his dreams,
The gush of those untasted streams! ”

“ They rise in joy, the starry myriads burning!
The Shepherd greets them on his mountains free,
⁠And from the silvery sea
To them the Sailor's wakeful eye is turning;
—Unchanged they rise, they have not mourn'd for thee! ”

“ And the silent stars on high,
And there waved not the smoke of one cabin-hearth
'Midst the quiet of the sky;
And along the twilight-bay
In their sleep the hamlets lay,
—For they knew not the Norse were nigh! ”

“ Shall grant you victory still.
"And gird my form with mail-array,
And set me on my steed;
So go ye forth on your funeral-way,
And God shall give you speed.
"Go with the dead in the front of war,
All arm'd with sword and helm ”

“ Man yields them to decay!
Yet more! the Billows and the Depths have more!
High hearts and brave are gather'd to thy breast!
They hear not now the booming waters roar,
The battle-thunders will not break their rest. ”

“ I slumber'd—but my rest was not
As theirs who lay beneath.
For on my dreams, that shadowy hour,
They rose—the chainless Dead—
All arm'd they sprung, in joy, in power,
Up from their grassy bed. ”

“ III.— The Cid's Rising.
'Twas the deep mid-watch of the silent night,
And Leon in slumber lay,
When a sound* [1] went forth in rushing might,
Like an army on its way!
In the stillness of the hour,
When the dreams of sleep have power,
And men forget the day. ”

“ Their spirit still had haunted!—Could it be
That he had borne the chain?—Oh! who shall dare
To say how much man's heart uncrush'd may bear?
So deep a root hath hope!—But woe for this,
Our frail mortality! ”

“ And the rich mead flows in light.
With a beating heart his son drew near,
And still rung the verse in his thrilling ear,
—"Soft be thy tread through the silence deep,
And move not the urn in the house of sleep,
For the viewless have fearful might!" ”

“ Thou shouldst be look'd on when the starlight falls
Through the blue stillness of the summer-air;
Not by the torch-fire wavering on the walls,
It hath too fitful and too wild a glare;
And thou!—thy rest, the soft, the lovely, seems
To ask light steps, that will not break its dreams.
Flowers are upon thy brow ”

“ For me alone the laughing day is done;
—Where is the Summer, with her voice of mirth?
—Far in my own bright land!
Where are the Fauns, whose flute-notes breathe and die
On the green hills? the founts, from sparry caves,
Through the wild places bearing melody? ”

“ Brought garlands there; so rest the brave,
Who thus their bard have found!
A voice from Scio's Isle,
A voice as deep hath risen again!
As far shall peal its thrilling strain,
Where'er our sun may smile! ”

“ And the larch has hung all his tassels forth,
The fisher is out on the sunny sea,
And the rein-deer bounds through the pasture free,
And the pine has a fringe of softer green,
And the moss looks bright where my step has been. ”

“ By the green leaves opening as I pass.
I have breathed on the South, and the chesnut-flowers
By thousands have burst from the forest-bowers,
And the ancient graves, and the fallen fanes,
Are veil'd with wreaths on Italian plains. ”

“ I come, I come! ye have call'd me long,
I come o'er the mountains with light and song!
Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth,
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth,
By the primrose-stars in the shadowy grass,
By the green leaves opening as I pass. ”

“ And banners, o'er his glorious head,
Were drooping heavily.
And feeble grew the mighty hand,
And cold the valiant breast;
—He had fought the battles of the land,
And his hour was come to rest.
What said the leader of the field?
His voice is faint and low,
The breeze that creeps o'er his lance and shield,
Hath louder accents now.
"Raise ye no cry, and let no moan
Be made when I depart ”

“ The tombs of Heroes! with the solemn skies
And the wide plain around, where patriot-blood
Had steeped the soil in hues of sacrifice.
They called the glorious Dead,
In the strong faith which brings the viewless nigh! ”

“ If yet, the wilds among,
Our silent hearts may burn,
When the deep mountain-horn hath rung,
And home our steps may turn;
Home! Home!—if still that name be dear,
Praise to the men who perish'd here! ”

“ To slumber from the harvest or the chase?
—Too still and sad the smile upon his face,
Yet that, e'en that, must fade!
Death will not hold unchanged his fairest guest:
Come near! and bear the mortal to his rest! ”

“ Her beauty leaves us in its rosy years,
Her sisters weep—but she hath done with tears!
⁠Now may the timbrel sound!"
Know'st thou for whom they sang the bridal numbers?
—One, whose rich tresses were to wave no more!
One whose pale cheek soft winds, nor gentle slumbers,
Nor Love's own sigh to rose-tints might restore!
Her graceful ringlets o'er a bier were spread—
—Weep for the young, the beautiful, the dead!⁠F. H.
↑ * It is a custom among the Moors to sing the bridal song when the funeral of an unmarried woman is borne from her home. ”

“ THE BIRD'S RELEASE AT THE GRAVE.
"Lorsqu'elle fut arrivée au lieu de sa sepulture, . . . . . . . . . . .des Indiennes du Bengale et de la côte Malabare, apportèrent des cages pleines d'oiseaux, auxquels elles donnèrent la liberté sur son corps." Paul et Virginie.
Go forth, for she is gone!
With the golden light of her wavy hair,
She is gone to the fields of the viewless air,
She hath left her dwelling lone! ”

“ In man's deep spirit of old hath wrought,
If peace to the mourner hath here been given,
Or prayer from a chasten'd heart to Heaven,
Be the spot still hallow’d while Time shall reign,
Who hath made thee Nature's own again!⁠F. H.
↑ * A beautiful Spring in North Wales, formerly dedicated to the Virgin, and much frequented by Pilgrims. ”

“ His arms, gold and silver, war-horse, domestic attendants, and whatever else he held most dear, were placed with him on the pile. His dependents and friends frequently made it a point of honour to die with their leader, in order to attend on his shade in the palace of Odin. ”

“ Why, who shall talk of Thrones, of Sceptres riven?
—It is too sad to think on what we are,
⁠When from its height afar,
A world sinks thus! and yon majestic Heaven
Shines not the less for that one vanish'd star!⁠F. ”

“ Oh! seek thou not the Fountain-Isle!⁠F. H.
↑ † The Cherokees believe that the recesses of their mountains, overgrown with lofty pines and cedars, and covered with old mossy rocks, are inhabited by the Kings or Chiefs of the Rattlesnakes, whom they denominate the "bright old inhabitants." They represent them as snakes of an enormous size, and which possess the power of drawing to them every living creature that comes within the reach of their eyes. Their heads are crowned with a large carbuncle of dazzling brightness. ”

“ Look yet on this young face!
What shall the beauty, from amongst us gone,
Leave of its image, e'en where most it shone,
Gladdening its hearth and race?
—Dim grows the semblance, on man's thought impress'd ”

“ As the shade of Theseus pass'd!
When banners caught the breeze,
When helms in sunlight shone,
When masts were on the seas,
And spears on Marathon.
⁠F. H. ↑ * See the tradition mentioned in Plutarch's Life of Theseus. ”

“ And the brave on a bloody turf must lie,
For the Huntsman hath gone by!‡ [3]
F. H.
↑ * The ruined Castle of Rodenstein, whence the Wild Huntsman is supposed to issue with his train, and traverse the air to the opposite Castle of Schnellerts. ↑ † Minnesinger, love-singers; the wandering minstrels of Germany were so called. ↑ ‡ It is a popular belief in the Odenwald, that the passing of the Wild Huntsman announces the approach of war. ”