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NIAGARA, 
 
 JEPHTHAH, 
 
 REMARKS UPON 
 
 THE DEFENCE OF WESSEX 
 
 BY ALFRED THE GREAT 
 
 WITH OTHER COMPOSITIONS. 
 
 IN VERSE AND PROSE. 
 
 But how the subject theme may gang, 
 Let time and chance determine ; 
 
 Perhaps it may turn out a sang. 
 Perhaps turn out a sermon. 
 
 Btjrns, 
 
 PRINTED BY 
 BREWSTER AND WEST, 
 
 HAND-COURT, UPPER THAMES-STREET. 
 
 1848. 
 

 205449 
 '13 
 
0>V 
 
 //l^/y^ */&/?u4 is4Asi,/ , 
 
 Ut/l£ 
 
 Flattery is so disgusting to the really worthy and 
 estimable, and so disgraceful to the writer who, by it's 
 use, holds himself up to scorn and contempt ; that the 
 Author best consults your character and his own, by 
 simply requesting that you will honour him by accept- 
 ing this little book. 
 
THE DEPRECATION. 
 
 Vanity, the besetting sin of little minds, 
 having prompted me to commit myself in print, 
 I can only beg off from a good, sound chastise- 
 ment, by pleading that the petty ambition of a 
 school-boy having lured me into writing non- 
 sense-verses, I have since beguiled the weary 
 gaps of nothing-to-do in a laborious life, by 
 allowing fancy to wander far away from splash- 
 ing gutters and smoky chimnies, into regions 
 which the bodily eye never saw. 
 
 A lurking conceit, that it is just possible some 
 of those kind persons, whose generous feeling 
 has rounded off some of the asperities of my 
 road, may be pleased to think me not alto- 
 gether unworthy of remembrance, leads me to 
 
VI THE DEPRECATION, 
 
 ask them to accept this book, and sometimes to 
 recall to memory one who does not very rea- 
 dily forget a kindness ; and it will highly gratify 
 me, if but one can feel in it's perusal a tithe of 
 the intense pleasure attendant upon it's compo» 
 sition. 
 
 I am sure that they will be merciful judges, 
 and try me rather by my motives than by the 
 accomplishment of my gratifying tasks : but as, 
 by mischance, a stray copy may fall into the 
 hands of some one who is critically disposed ; 
 and as, when a criminal does run mad in print, 
 he is justly held amenable to those whom he 
 annoys, and is bound to render an account of 
 his vagabond birth, parentage and education ; I 
 do most penitently confess, that no out-of-London 
 vicinage was polluted by my first breath ; but 
 that I was honestly and regularly born within 
 the sound of Bow-bells the wind setting hard 
 from any point of the rainy quarter, as a good 
 and true Citizen-and-Haberdasher is in duty 
 bound to have been : and, miserable wretch that 
 I am, I have since seen very little out of London, 
 although I am quite certain that roses are red, 
 
THE DEPRECATION. VU 
 
 lilies are orange-coloured, sweet-briar pricks one's 
 fingers, streamlets are black, and sparrow-music 
 is very exhilarating. 
 
 I have however, as a set-off, seen much of 
 London ; know Temple-bar extremely well, have 
 a passing acquaintance with St. Paul's, and with 
 Bow-Church steeple, have now and then seen a 
 Grass-hopper a-top of Change, but have never 
 been upon drinking terms with Aldgate-pump. 
 The civic watering place, Billingsgate dock, is 
 fresh in my recollection, and the Pageants at Red- 
 riff, One-tree hill at Greenwich, and the White- 
 bait of Blackwall are deeply treasured in my 
 memory. I once found that I had lost myself 
 at Ball's Pond, when upon a tour of discovery 
 for a green field, which I did not find ; and, 
 returning from a business trip to Auld Reekie, 
 and getting out of sight of land, was astounded 
 by the sublimely magnificent sensation, that it 
 was very much like being stuck in the middle of 
 a big punch-bowl. 
 
 By parentage, upon the one side at least, I am 
 a Cockney of the very purest water, traceable 
 
Vlll THE DEPRECATION. 
 
 downward from the Great Plague, and how much 
 further upward it would be plaguey hard to say ; 
 and upon the other, there is a dash of Saxon or 
 Norseman blood, I really cannot tell which. 
 
 By long residence, I am also a most unmixed, 
 and unsophisticated Cockney, located hard by 
 the Classic region of Grub-street, and not very 
 far away from the last resting place of that noto- 
 riously London-born-criminal John Milton. 
 
 As to my education, I learnt great A and boun- 
 cing B from a horn-book ; and am quite sure that 
 Grammar is a most rascally, ill-looking little thing 
 with a sticky yellow-bunting cover, well thumbed, 
 and dirtily dog's-eared at each corner. 
 
 I do then most contritely plead that I am a 
 genuine, uncontaminated Londoner, and there- 
 fore no more answerable for erroneous ideas, than 
 was my lovely and kind-hearted compatriot, who 
 saved the chicken-bones for her brother's horse, 
 or the nice, dear little fellows who pitch nuts at 
 the lions to fatten them. 
 
 I have read, somewhere, that there is a " Cock- 
 
THE DEPRECATION. IX 
 
 ney-School" of Song-smiths, as our worthy 
 Northern ancestry used, in their sauciness, to call 
 them, — I know not what is the condemnatory 
 characteristic of that School ; I know only that 
 Jemmy Wright's Caron-house, was a deuced 
 flogging one after he had been drunk ; but I am 
 still perfectly assured that it must be something 
 extremely wicked, superlatively contemptible 
 and most deservedly sneer-at-able ; and that, 
 whatever else it be, I must be the minutest 
 member of it's most diminutive form ; for, there 
 I stand, uncomfortable urchin, jammed into the 
 corner, upon a high stool, with a fool's-cap on, 
 whimpering with a little thumb in my eye, and 
 an ugly, old A.B.C.-woman poking a big long 
 cane at me. 
 
 Whatever be the villany of that Cockney 
 school, I cannot get away from the questionable 
 honour of my association, and must wear the 
 glitter of such delinquency as blushingly as I can. 
 
 Having thus fairly discharged my conscience, 
 and done reparation to my deeply-insulted, in- 
 jured and offended Country, I have only further 
 
X THE DEPRECATION. 
 
 to plead, in mitigation, that, having always been 
 a wayward, unmanageable chap ; having been, of 
 old, accustomed to do as I pleased, when I could 
 get my own way, to lay down my own laws, and 
 to break them when they pinched ; I have, in 
 some instances, adopted a form of composition, 
 which, even judged by the rules of some civilized 
 writers, admits of a little occasional kicking over 
 the traces, as but at worst, a venial and youthful 
 sally. 
 
 If however, The Schoolmaster, should find 
 any outbreak beyond all justificatory precedent; 
 and if, he should discover that, in some violent 
 plunge, Priscian's head has also been broken ; I 
 must, right humbly, request him to take up his 
 pen and mend it : but I would also most be- 
 seechingly implore him, to try whether curtail- 
 ment or elongation to his bed of Procrustes, 
 might not mar more than it would mend. 
 
 I have a sort of eccentric notion that the true 
 test of a Rhythmical line, is not a rigorously exact 
 number of syllables, but the quantity and expres- 
 siveness of sound : — that a syllable consisting even 
 
THE DEPRECATION. XI 
 
 but of one letter, may, by it's accentuation, be 
 fully equal to two of ordinary force ; — and, that 
 a word, it may be of even five syllables, may, in 
 common pronunciation, be really reduced to the 
 bare quantity of another word of but two sylla- 
 bles : and if I err not in my recollection, instances 
 might readily be adduced to shew that, in some 
 of our best writers, not only are there lines which 
 overrun, or do not reach, the syllabic measure ; 
 but that, in very many instances, the euphony of 
 a line has not only been destroyed, but Priscian's 
 head most unmercifully mashed into mummy, by 
 a too strict attention to the due syllabic measure. 
 
 I leave that question however for the digestion 
 of better stomachs than my own. I have taken 
 my own course, and must stand or fall by my 
 own unruly devices. 
 
 I have a slight, an evanescent hope, that, al- 
 though my readers may neither derive instruction 
 nor amusement from, they will neither be in- 
 jured in head nor heart by anything which I have 
 herein submitted to them ; and, it will indeed be 
 to me a great pleasure should I hear, that if I 
 
Xll THE DEPRECATION. 
 
 shall not have done good, I have at least not in- 
 flicted harm. 
 
 In completion of this deprecation of chastise- 
 ment, I take leave to run wild again, and ear- 
 nestly to say, with respect to my humble aspira- 
 tion, 
 
 Nay, check not my hope, though it smile to deceive, 
 I mistrust, and I fear, yet still fondly believe, 
 Yet cherish I still the delight it has given, 
 "Though a dream it may be, 'tis a dream of heaven. 
 
 Nay, crush not my hope, though a bubble it be, 
 It's beautiful colours are rainbows to me ; 
 'Though it burst, I will dwell on the bliss it has given, 
 Remembering the dream, as a dream of heaven. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page. 
 
 1. NIAGARA. 
 
 11. THE GAZELLES. 
 
 i 
 
 12. THE SNIPE AND THE RUFFS. 
 
 14. THE PLUME AND THE GEM. 
 
 17. THE BALLOON AND THE MIST-BUBBLES. 
 
 19. THE ANT AND THE BUTTERFLY. 
 
 21. THE BEAVERS. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page. 
 
 23. THE DRAKE AND THE GAME-COCK. 
 
 25. THE SCORPION AND HIS TORMENTORS. 
 
 26. HODGE. 
 
 29. THE EXILE. 
 
 32. THE MISANTHROPE. 
 
 35. THE BARDIE'S LAMENT. 
 
 39. ON, ISRAEL ! 
 
 41. PRAYER. 
 
 43. CONTRITION. 
 
 47. A HYMN. 
 
 51. BIRTH. 
 
 67. DEATH. 
 
 87. RETRIBUTION. 
 
 125. THE RENOVATION. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page. 
 
 1 30. WHERE IS GOD ? 
 
 137. JEPHTHAH. 
 
 271. THE CXXXVII. PSALM. 
 
 274. THE MOUNTAIN AND THE PALM-TREE. 
 
 277. COUSIN DINAH. 
 
 299. THE DEFENCE OF WESSEX. 
 
 369. CHALFONT. 
 
NIAGARA 
 
 What wild enthusiast, with adventurous hand, 
 
 Rashly shall dare to intonate the lyre ? 
 
 What prophet spirit o'er thy fearful strand 
 
 Shall breathe, in awful cadences of fire, 
 
 Strains which angelic minstrels might inspire ; 
 
 And from their embryo nothingness upraise, 
 
 With magic hand, the intellectual choir; 
 
 Pour in 'rapt sounds a kindred flood of praise, 
 
 And draw down Heaven to hear the blest melodious 
 
 What limpid wave reflect thy rushing tide, 
 What gleaming fancy thy vast might pourtray, 
 Diffuse o'er space her sunshine tissue wide, 
 Arrest the glories of thy floating spray, 
 And bid thy fleeting colours live for aye ; 
 And rein thy coursers in her mimic thrall, 
 And bid thy eddying car her will obey ? 
 Smiling in strength, thy ceaseless volumes fall, 
 And with exulting laugh thou proudly scornest all. 
 
A NIAGARA, 
 
 Thy white mist rises, as ascends to heaven 
 Some holy altar's pure oblation fire ; 
 Not as foul steams, whose fostid tresses riven, 
 Unveil the vultures of war's funeral pyre, 
 Where groaning fathers o'er their sons expire ; 
 And, wailing loud, of every hope despoiled, 
 Lovers the blood-locks from their lovers tear ; 
 And fierce-contending with the jackall wild, 
 The maddening mother shrieks, and faints upon her 
 child : 
 
 But as the clear light of beneficence, 
 
 Radiant of peace and redolent of joy ; 
 
 Effacing tears and blushes of offence, 
 
 And bidding grovelling sadness soar on high, 
 
 On rapturous wings of silent ecstasy : 
 
 But as that holy dew of holiest earth, 
 
 Ere man had stained her with his infamy, 
 
 Which, mingling with the angel's sacred mirth, 
 
 Returned imbued with praise, and sanctified her birth. 
 
 Still, as I breathless, fixed in rigid trance, 
 
 And fascinating terror stand at gaze ; 
 
 Volumed on volumed rapids swiftly glance 
 
 And die, as time's vast myriads of days 
 
 Blend into undistinguishable haze ; 
 
 Save that lone fragments of the world gone by, 
 
 Scrolled o'er with crime and bloodshed, yet amaze 
 
 The seekers of man's direful history, 
 
 Summed up in rending curse and bitterest agony. 
 
NTAGARA. 
 
 So falls tliy floods so swiftly plunges down 
 Some gallant vessel caught within thy whirl, 
 By one rude crash in countless fragments thrown ; 
 Thy melting eddies o'er the shivers curl, 
 And far and wide the stranded cordage hurl, 
 Speaking thy wild tremendous energy ; 
 As, amid thy kindred deluge, when from the swirl 
 He-nascent mountains reared their pinnets high, 
 And one wide-bosomed calm soft wooed the evening 
 sky: 
 
 Glittering, the ripple on the horizon, marked 
 The whirlwind dipping his ferocious van ; 
 Harshly around destruction's hell-hounds barked, 
 Black yawningchasms through riven mountains ran, 
 And one shrill shriek burst from ark-shielded man ; 
 Onward, right onward, as the depths unclosed, 
 Swept he the vast waste with capacious span, 
 Hurling huge monsters into eternal snows, 
 Where no exploring steps e'er break their fixed repose. 
 
 Deep as I drink, with never-sated eye, 
 Thy glorious beauty, stealing melancholy 
 Palsies my senses ; yet the alluring tie 
 Snaps not ; but, traversing in agony 
 Athwart thy headlong current, vacantly 
 Seeing, I see not, yet still gaze upon 
 Thy alluring horrors, dim and gloomily ; 
 As wreck -left on some bleak rock, barren, lone, 
 Despairing seamen watch the tempest-tokening sun- 
 
 b 2 
 
Vast world of waters, ever pouring down 
 
 And ever still to pour ; vicissitude 
 
 Of nature shakes thee not ; thou holdest on 
 
 Thy stedfast course, and no similitude 
 
 Hast ever found. Sublimest magnitude 
 
 Has o'er thy ample bosom wide outspread 
 
 His broad dominion ; rough rocks, rent and rude 
 
 Grace, but mar not the honours of thy head, 
 
 And wearying time on thee has no dishonour shed. 
 
 So fearlessly, majestically great, 
 Marches in meek, dove-eyed benignity, 
 Unquailed by storm, unbowed by age's weight, 
 Kindred in spirit, Christianity ; 
 And still shall march in calm security; 
 Close to her bosom, with unaltered niein, 
 Though hurtling arrows fall incessantly, 
 She presses holiest hope, and smiles serene, 
 As terrors were but breath to wave her sun-locks 
 sheen. 
 
 The saffron eye of morn awakening, 
 
 Looks from her waving couch of orient gold : 
 
 Gaily the blithe bird's earliest twittering 
 
 Bids fairest fiowers their faery cups unfold, 
 
 And flaunting tendrils laughingly behold, 
 
 Pearl-dropt and prankt with choicest jewellery, 
 
 The brilliant leaflets pure from Nature's mould : 
 
 Exult the meads, and pleasure's iris-eye 
 
 Gleams with delight amid the enchanting minstrelsy. 
 
NIAGARA. 
 
 And, bending in the light breeze, bough and stem, 
 O'erhanging dark the steep-enshadowed tide ; 
 Honoured in age's snowy diadem, 
 Wave in consonancy their tresses wide, 
 As the fierce dog-star, azure-canopied, 
 Pouring effulgently his tempered rays, 
 Sports dalliant on thy bosom : vivified, 
 Rises in incense thy pellucid haze 
 And sward, and sky, and flood, their blest Creator 
 praise. 
 
 And surges, leaping from thy mountain crest, 
 Melt in the western red-glare, lovelily 
 Dying in radiant sweetness. Pure her breast, 
 And cold as pure, the Naiad bashfully 
 "Wells out her snowy vases ; limpidly 
 As beauty's tear drops, ever still they flow, 
 And Dryad sisters, sighing piteously, 
 View their own fate in each impulsive throe, 
 And, fascinated, love, the sanctifying woe. 
 
 Wide in thy opalescent billows float, 
 Colours irradiant as the hues of heaven ; 
 The iridescent glow, the glittering mote, 
 The broad clear beam, by sunny mist-wreaths riven, 
 And blending, as, imagination given, 
 Blend poet-dreams and darkness. Follies flash 
 O'er man as o'er thy current ; bright and even 
 They allure him, or, impetuously rash, 
 Hurl him, and all his hopes, into countless nothings 
 dash. 
 
O NIAGARA. 
 
 In thy receding crescent dim light dwells, 
 While o'er thy wide convexity the sun 
 Gleams gloriously. Elate thy bosom swells, 
 And swifter plunge thy gladdening volumes down 
 As glory urged and bade them hurry on. 
 Like warriors burning for avenging fight, 
 Flash the swift floods thy glittering edge upon, 
 Glare the white surges more intensely bright, 
 And the quenched eye, subdued, shrinks from the ex- 
 cessive light. 
 
 Or, amid thy roaring stillness, peal on peal, 
 
 Reverberating thunders rudely crash; 
 
 Heard, yet scarce heard, though on thy pinnacle 
 
 The herald lightnings in continuous flash, 
 
 Glance on thy heaving wave, or fiercely dash 
 
 Into thine inmost womb ; and the waked ear 
 
 Listens, and thinks it hears thy rival rash 
 
 Groaning, as suffering spirits in despair 
 
 Groan in the dark, the drear, the eternal sepulchre. 
 
 Or, bursting from the death-trance, answering loud, 
 As blessed hosts contending who shall sing 
 Best their Creator ; emulous thy flood, 
 And the air-angel awfully echoing 
 In strenuous chorus. Dark o'er- hovering 
 Black the dense clouds thy wide expanse o'erveil ; 
 And all, save sound, in slumber deadening, 
 The rapt ear dwells upon thy rushing gale, 
 Though pausing Nature seem beneath the storm to 
 quail. 
 
NIAGARA. 
 
 Then, suddenly, the wild glare gleams around, 
 Pouring its forked, ire-enkindled brand > 
 As stains the streams, as desolates the ground, 
 War's parching breath, thy poor, devoted land, 
 Once noble Grgecia ; yet the scourge beneath 
 Thou fashionest the weapons of command, 
 And Heaven shall yield thee yet the conqueror wreath. 
 And Mahmoud's blood-stained bones bleach on thy 
 warrior heath. 
 
 Thee, vast Niagara, no tyrant curbs, 
 
 Though oft the tempest, burning in his might, 
 
 Thy mild serenity awhile disturbs. 
 
 And dares thee, placid conqueror, to the fight. 
 
 Hurling aloft in maniac despite, 
 
 Spoils torn from sultry, equinoctial plain, 
 
 Hopes he, elate, thy Naiads to affright, 
 
 To bind thy spirit in the enfeebling chain, 
 
 And o'er thy smiling strand, firm fix his brutal reign, 
 
 Once owned, fixed ever. Thou to fear or own 
 Sublimely scornest. Let the wild hurricane 
 Chafe thee and tear thee ! be thy rooted throne 
 Tornado whitened ! let his vengeance rain 
 As rained Gomorrah's fire ! in disdain, 
 As Britain -viewed the threat-invading force, 
 Thou, unsusceptible of age or pain, 
 Unheeding glidest from thine eternal source, 
 And still pursuest on, thy steady, fate-like course. 
 
Even Winter, stern and fearless, whose chill throne, 
 
 In bleak, fantastic splendour overspreads 
 
 The solitary poles, oft trenches on 
 
 Thy neighbour forests, thy consanguined meads, 
 
 Yet pauses at thy threshold. Freedom shone 
 
 For ever there ! for ever shall the sun 
 
 Greet the proud, northern child ; and as her eye 
 
 Aurora-brightened flashes, every zone 
 
 Shall hail the cherub ; shall, like thee, rely 
 
 On Heaven, assert her right, and raise her head on high. 
 
 Often thy pale blue mist, inspiriting 
 
 Shoot lucent rays ; as Heaven's prophecy, 
 
 Man's dead-blank future fate illumining, 
 
 Peoples the dim haunt of obscurity ; 
 
 And, as thy booming thunders echo by, 
 
 Oft, clinging to some grey branch, whose frail leaves 
 
 Shiver within thy wavelet ; eagerly 
 
 Seek I thy depth, and as the billow heaves 
 
 Blithe fancy, with the spray, her visions interweaves. 
 
 And the soft moonbeams mitigate the scene 
 
 Of horror : thy dark current dimpling 
 
 With evanescent beauties, while between 
 
 Each, intonating crash, light revelling 
 
 In their own music, night birds twittering, 
 
 Then bursting in one flood of melody, 
 
 Spell the 'rapt soul, that on the heaven-ward wing 
 
 Of ecstasy swift floating, soars on high, 
 
 And hears angelic strains, angelic minstrelsy. 
 
Or, sinking into sadness, loves the light 
 
 Upon thy elfin-tresses glittering ; 
 
 Or marks, with happy, infantine delight, 
 
 The broad orb, from her high sphere, brightening 
 
 In thy pure, molten mirror, or chequering 
 
 Thy sportive surges, from the dark abyss 
 
 Leaping as fire-flies, gently wakening 
 
 Earth's pearl-drops into transient brilliantness, 
 
 Then shouting, plunge down deep, in jocund happiness. 
 
 Oh, I have stood upon thy trembling verge 
 As, on the edge of time's departing scroll 
 Some holy spirit : on the deepening dirge, 
 The solemn death-knell, wondrous visions roll 
 Of angels beckoning the kindred soul : 
 Islands of bliss, glad glory's golden gleam, 
 Realms where pure spirits exercise controul, 
 Altars and temples of the dread Supreme, 
 Bathed in one brilliant, blest, clear, crime-unspotted 
 beam. 
 
 Yes, — oft I stand, in melancholy bliss, 
 Shrunken in myself, and sinking into earth 
 In deep abasement, o'er thy vast abyss, 
 And daring not to ask, whence drew I birth, 
 Or, what I am ; or how the shuddering earth 
 Could bear such reptile wretches ; how the day- 
 -Ephemerons can rush in anger forth, 
 O'er the sand-grain a conqueror's march essay, 
 And microscopic space, bind in disdainful sway? 
 
10 NIAGARA. 
 
 Lords of a moment. — In thy awful view 
 
 Who shall be great : who count his ancestry : 
 
 Who dare the irrefluent current to pursue. 
 
 Trace his continuous line, through regalry, 
 
 Up to a source of blood, or villainy ? 
 
 Oh, who shall, vauntingly, aloud proclaim 
 
 His pomp, his circumstance of heraldry, 
 
 O'er thee resound his ancestorial name, 
 
 And, to thy stream outspread his muster-roll of fame ? 
 
 Low, on thy margin, pride sinks self-abased, 
 
 And pert conceit, and pampered vanity, 
 
 Into their native nothingness debased, 
 
 And conscious of their fond credulity, 
 
 Sigh, blushing, at the sad reality ; 
 
 And, in thy kingly presence, cowering, 
 
 Thee-daunted, chrysomed in humility, 
 
 Overcount, in lowliest tremor murmuring, 
 
 And weep, as still they count each empty triumphing. 
 
 Weak, worthless, vile, and despicable, all; 
 
 As far beneath man's truest dignity 
 
 As thou above the meanest springlet-fall 
 
 In tinkling current glancing merrily. 
 
 Thou, in thine own severe simplicity, 
 
 Sublimely calm, appallingly serene, 
 
 Glidest in lone, tremendous majesty : — 
 
 Absorbed, mute wonder, with expressive mien 
 
 Lost in abstraction stands, and meditates the sceue. 
 
1! 
 
 THE GAZELLES. 
 
 " Beware," said the old Gazelle, " beware, 
 The hunter has spread his treacherous snare, 
 The tiger has stretched his devouring fangs, 
 Already I see thy expiring pangs." 
 
 " Truce, mother, truce ; the sun is awake, 
 
 His light decks the tresses of jungle and brake : 
 
 Fear not, oh, fear not : I am agile and fleet, 
 
 Tigers drink not my blood, hunters snare not my feet. 
 
 No tiger appeared as she bounded with glee, 
 Elate from constraint to be happily free : 
 " Oh beauty," she cried, as she gazed in the stream, 
 " It was jealousy croaked in my fond mother's dream. 
 
 Curvetting, and tripping, and ambling, and leaping 
 Now gazing at buds, now in wild blossoms peeping ; 
 A beautiful, burnished, resplendently bright, 
 Gem-chequered serpent attracted her sight. 
 
 Lithely he twined, as she drew back amazed, 
 Glided he gently, as curious she gazed : 
 Glittered his scales, as irresolute she strayed, 
 And glanced his keen eye, as her course was delayed. 
 
12 THE SNIPE AND THE RUFFS. 
 
 She stopped, his heart danced, as her eye met his glance, 
 He besought, and she stood fixed in tremulous trance, 
 Advancing, inhaling his poisonous breath, 
 Dizzy she grew, and then rushed on her death. 
 
 THE SNIPE AND THE RUFFS. 
 
 " A smoky house and scolding wife," 
 
 The adage says, " are plagues for life :" 
 
 But other plagues beset our houses, 
 
 And other ills annoy our spouses, 
 
 And prudent bodies look a little 
 
 Beyond a frown, or a crocky kettle. 
 
 A young snipe, from the streams affrighted, 
 
 Is on a common, wild, benighted, 
 
 And from the howling winds that pelt her 
 
 Hither and thither runs for shelter. 
 
 At length, beneath some beetling bluffs, 
 
 Finds she a leash of spruce-dressed Ruffs, 
 
 Long-beaked, long-legged, and smartly speckled, 
 
 Black, white, and brown, and auburn, freckled. 
 
THE SNIPE AND THE RUFFS. 13 
 
 Lack they not hospitality, 
 But with extremest courtesy 
 Request she will with them repose 
 Until the rude tempest overblows. 
 Much wonders she, for hope will spring- 
 Even from beneath destruction's wing ; 
 And, out of house, and out of home, 
 Good fortune may have bidden her roam 
 Hither, to meet at length a mate. 
 Admires she much their air and gait, 
 Admires she much the sanded floor 
 With fairy- circlets traversed o'er; 
 And, growing bold, as they caress her, 
 Of nuptials talk, and gently press her, 
 Gently as rival birds are able, 
 To take the " upper end of the table •" 
 She questions, " why, within a zone 
 Each should possess a mimic throne, 
 And raise the ruff and dart the beak 
 If another the charmed line inbreak?" 
 " Each keeps his portion." ' ' Thank you kindly, 
 I enter not in engagements blindly ; 
 If brothers thus can disagree 
 It will be no house of peace for me ; 
 Farewell," she cries, " the family 
 Of Ruffs lack unanimity, 
 And, poverty with peace, is better 
 Than misery in a golden fetter." 
 
11 
 
 THE PLUME AND THE GEM. 
 
 Belinda, who knows not the fair ? 
 Profuse her waving locks of hair, 
 Profuse her gems, their dazzling light, 
 Than her pure sparkling eyes less bright ; 
 Less lovely red than either cheek 
 Aurora's blushes when they break 
 The autumnal curtains of the sun ; 
 Less brilliant, his fierce race half run, 
 Is Phoebus, than her lightning wit : 
 But added charms are requisite 
 Even to make Belinda fair. 
 She therefore pinned within her hair 
 A plume, oh, such a plume as never 
 Before put ladies into a fever ! 
 Gorgeous, and beauteous, and delightful, 
 All other plumes, to thee were frightful ! 
 Oh, as supremely blest, it dangled, 
 And waved it's graceful head, and angled 
 With linked fibrils, as it strove 
 To catch motes in the beams of love ; 
 Damsels of certain ages frowned, 
 Pert damsellettes as fairly swooned ; 
 Dandies, and beaux, and maccaronies, 
 Grew rough and rude as Exmoor ponies, 
 
THE PLUMB AND THE GEM. 15 
 
 Snorted and kicked, and stung with spite, 
 
 Threatened themselves into a fright. 
 
 He was a venturous he, whose stupid 
 
 And misty eyelids never saw Cupid, 
 
 With burnished shaft and tight-strained bow, 
 
 Dodging beneath Belinda's brow, 
 
 Watching with keen, consummate art 
 
 To launch his arrow into the heart ; 
 
 And glance, and cower, look coy, look sly, 
 
 Then, in a moment, slap, let fly 
 
 The thrilling barb. — Oh, stupid wretch ! 
 
 Dare you of art or science preach 
 
 Who never saw electricity 
 
 Corruscate from a lady's eye ? 
 
 Oh, stolid lecturer, how dare 
 
 You scrutinize the blushing fair ? 
 
 How dare you gaze : how dare you venture 
 
 So near to love's attractive centre : 
 
 How dare you, with a cringing grin, 
 
 Crinkle the crow's feet, scar your thin 
 
 Bachelor lips with smirking simper, 
 
 And for that plume your wishes whimper ? 
 
 Belinda, condescending creature, 
 
 In loveliest smiles arrayed each feature ; 
 
 Unclasping from its balmy seat 
 
 A diamond gave she in emeralds set ; 
 
 And, loosening from her auburn tresses 
 
 With many kind, endeared caresses, 
 
 Surrendered into his custody 
 
 The Triumph of Plumasserie. — 
 
16 THE PLUME AND THE GEM. 
 
 As opera-dancers, if they are talked with, 
 
 By nobles, joked with, laughed with, walked with 
 
 Feel strawberry leaves on their foreheads grow, 
 
 And ape the aristocratic bow ; 
 
 Peered with a jewel, Monsieur Plume, 
 
 Waved, as he strutted round the room, 
 
 Bestowing on all the Plumes in the crowd 
 
 A gracious, patronizing nod. 
 
 His heightened pride ascended higher, 
 
 Glowed fiercer his ambition's fire, 
 
 Xerxes, who in himself embodied 
 
 Millions, felt not so over-godded 
 
 As wondering damsels saw them fall 
 
 Jewels and feather, equal all, 
 
 When weighed in the subtilized air 
 
 Of the lecturing philosopher. — 
 
 The jewel smiled, nor felt degraded, 
 
 Although by a feather overshadecl. 
 
 But when, within an ample brim, 
 
 She saw the gossamer trapping swim, 
 
 Puffed, whirled, and driven by every gale 
 
 Which beauty's roseate lips exhale ; 
 
 And the jewel, scarcely less in weight, 
 
 Or in air or water, beaming bright, 
 
 More splendent, as if distress and woe 
 
 Gave truest worth a truer glow : 
 
 Belinda, sighing as she spake, 
 
 Owned herself silly, blind, and weak : 
 
 Conscious, 'though in the vacuum 
 
 Of a suffocating; drawing room, 
 
THE BALLOON AND THE MIST-BUBBLES. 17 
 
 Feathers may chance to " bear the bell ;" 
 Yet, in the deep, sequestered dell 
 Of social life, supremely blest, 
 Secure the fond affections rest, 
 Supporting and supported by 
 Worth that despises rivalry. 
 
 THE BALLOON AND THE MIST-BUBBLES. 
 
 "Oh, la!" cried the girls, and "hurrah!" cried the 
 
 boys, 
 Until half merry England ran wild with their noise ; 
 As a dapper balloon, with a man dangling down, 
 Like a mouse in a tether, amazed London town. 
 
 <e Behold me, behold me," cried out the balloon, 
 
 As some mist-bubbles passed on their voyage towards 
 
 the moon ; 
 fl Behold how superbly, how nimbly I gallop 
 Over billows of air, like my Lord Mayor's gilt shallop." 
 
 " Aye, sail, sail away," laughed the merry-grig bubbles, 
 " Like a young bear, you are but beginning your 
 troubles ; 
 
 c 
 
18 THE BALLOON AND THE MIST-BUBBLES. 
 
 Should you burst/' — " Should I burst/' twisting round 
 
 with a caper, 
 " Should I burst, should I burst/' cried the bag-full of 
 
 vapour : 
 
 " And if I should burst ? Should ye burst, who would 
 
 sorrow ? 
 But my death would enrich all the papers to-morrow ; 
 While, if ye broke, ten millions such bubbles of wet, 
 Not a line e'er would furnish for Fashion's gazette." 
 
 " Did we burst," cried the gigglers, " though unnoticed 
 
 in rain, 
 Our sportive lives would not have passed by in vain ; 
 While yours, were your bright deeds all told over double, 
 Would be nonsense, and ridicule, glitter, and trouble." 
 
 Apply this to heroes, to statesmen, to kings, 
 To lordlings, to ladylings, garters, or strings, 
 Knights, squires, or peasants, you ever will find 
 Air-balloons are of less use than rain to mankind. 
 
19 
 
 THE ANT AND THE BUTTERFLY. 
 
 " Good morrow to you, Mistress Ant, 
 You must be sadly pinched by want, 
 
 Ever thus to sweat and labour ; 
 I have toiled my toil, and now full chase 
 Of happiness, I run my race, 
 
 Good morrow, drudging neighbour." 
 
 " Ah well, farewell Miss Butterfly, 
 The sun is up, the fields are dry, 
 
 And I am right strong for labour : 
 Mayhap when you have chased your chase, 
 And that same happiness embrace, 
 
 You will not neglect your neighbour. 
 
 Time was, you know," — " Not I, not I," 
 Frisked off the gaily-plumed Fly, 
 
 The brisk Ant plied her labour : 
 She sunned her eggs, her corn she nibbled, 
 And in dried earth her dry stores dibbled, 
 
 Then looked out for her neighbour. 
 
 " Eh, sirs ! — and you have lost a wing ; 
 Some wretch has had a wicked fling 
 At your delicious labour ; 
 
 c 2 
 
20 THE ANT AND THE BUTTERFLY. 
 
 You have lost your legs in that same chase, 
 You have lost your horns, and that bonny face 
 Is dirty, sweetest neighbour : 
 
 But you have tasted happiness " — 
 " Less," cried the dying insect, " less 
 
 Reproach me, prudent neighbour; 
 You have drudged, and met with sweet content, 
 I, wearied, wounded, and outspent, 
 
 Glittered, but lost my labour ; 
 
 " And now I die." — Aye, more is the pity, 
 The young, the gay, the blithe, the witty, 
 
 For happiness thus labour : 
 Read they my rede, I trow they 'ill find 
 Real happiness of toil designed 
 
 To be the nearest neighbour. 
 
 All others are but hey-day cousins, 
 Acquaintances picked up by dozens, 
 
 Straw in the sun that glisters : 
 Sweet labour and content, scarcely ever 
 Are known from each other's side to sever 
 
 But live like friends and sisters. 
 
21 
 
 THE BEAVERS. 
 
 Haired the wind, the tempest gathered, 
 Doun the snaw-storm fell, fu'-feathered 
 
 From Walishmen's geese : 
 In sooth it was an awfu' day, 
 Sic as mote teugh-skinned flint-stanes flay 
 
 An' misers fleece. 
 
 Flew the leaves, the branches crackled, 
 The bushes a' were frizzed an' hackled, 
 
 An' tugged an' twisted : 
 A beaver's hut fu' sair was beaten, 
 Auld grannie crouched, an' mammie swaten 
 
 Mair nor she listed. 
 
 Chafed the flood, the torrent battered, 
 
 The stakes were drawn, the dam was shattered, 
 
 A leak began : 
 It was nae time for sleep, they hastened, 
 They plashed the breach, the pile they fastened, 
 
 Then in o' doors ran. 
 
 Lulled the wind, the rain saft pattered, 
 Comfort their easy bosoms flattered, 
 An' daddie entered : 
 
22 THE BEAVERS. 
 
 Guid man, he grunted wi' delight, 
 Sair for that hame had been his fright 
 
 Where a' his joys centred. 
 
 Whined he loud, his cubs were cheerie, 
 An, frisked, an' leaped, an' unco' merrie, 
 
 'Gan to be curious : 
 " Why, mammie, did you plash an' plaster, 
 Wattle, and drive the pile down faster 
 
 'Spite o' auld Boreas?" 
 
 Frowned she, but the storm was over, 
 Dad shared her out a wisp o' clover 
 
 An' greenest braunches ; 
 Then, spreading out his fish-tail flat, 
 Becht as a minister, upsate 
 
 Upon his haunches. 
 
 Preached he lang, the wee-anes listened, 
 Wi' glee, auld luckie's black eyne glistened, 
 
 An' glowered, an' gleamed : 
 But o' his sang, the fu' gran' close 
 Was, " wee-bit griefs will grow into woes 
 
 Gin ye allow 'em. 
 
 Bepress them young, the wark is easie, 
 Grawn great, they winna say e sae please ye,' 
 
 An' haud their breath ; 
 Nay, bairns, young leak may become auld deluge, 
 An' ye in vain seek out a refuge 
 
 Frae wounds or death." 
 
THE DRAKE AND THE GAME-COCK. 23 
 
 Prosie lie grew, an' I maun hasten 
 The leakage o' my pen to fasten, 
 
 'Gainst auld wife's saws : 
 O' checking anger, staying expense, 
 Curbing first steps frae innocence, 
 Crushing the first unhallowed thought 
 An' mony greater guids he taught 
 
 Wi' moche applause. 
 
 THE DRAKE AND THE GAME-COCK. 
 
 We lang may hae our way fu' swing, 
 But find at last the tether-string 
 
 Bring us up short ; 
 An' gin we strain the cord too much, 
 It snaps, or wi' a strangling clutch 
 
 Spoils a' our sport. 
 
 A game-cock lang, wi' vapouring bluster, 
 Had i' the hamestead made a fluster, 
 An' gran' commotion : 
 
24 THE DRAKE AND THE GAME-COCK. 
 
 Before him saucie cockerells fled, 
 Even gobbling turkies booed the head 
 In pale devotion. 
 
 Wi' a raunge like this nae satisfied, 
 Auld Gaffer Drake maun to his pride, 
 
 Bend doun in awe ; 
 The ducklings skirled as loud he crawed, 
 An', like a dominie's big rod, 
 
 Laid doun the law. 
 
 Gaffer, unused to the hectoring, 
 Made at his throat a wicked fling, 
 
 An' grabbled tight : 
 The flying feathers sharp he tuzzled, 
 The weasan-pipe he sairly nuzzled 
 
 In angry fight. 
 
 In vain he twirks his near-han' spur, 
 In vain his red-challers threaten war 
 
 An* fierce eyne bleeze ; 
 In vain his flapping pennons rattle, 
 Far straunger pennons wage their battle 
 
 An' his pride deize. 
 
 He sued : the baffled tyrant sued, 
 Choaked wi' vexation, choaked wi' bluid 
 
 An' dust, an' heat : 
 " Keep ye your station," quo' the drake, 
 " I nae wi' ither, mell ne make 
 
 Ne drad defeat. 
 
THE SCORPION AND HIS TORMENTORS. 25 
 
 Peaceful an* calm, an' patient lang, 
 I rather wud submit to wrang 
 
 Than stir up strife : 
 But, mark me, e'en frae amang the weak 
 The indignant spirit may outbreak, 
 
 Nor spare your life." 
 
 THE SCORPION AND HIS TORMENTORS, 
 
 Are there not in this spacious globe 
 Beings, disguised beneath the robe 
 
 Of friendship and of truth ; 
 Are there not wretches ; are there not 
 Fiends, whose existence is a blot, 
 
 Fiends lost to holiest ruth ? 
 
 Oh, know ye not, for such there are 
 Whose play-game is malignant war, 
 
 Whose love is bitterest hate : 
 Know ye not some, whose blood-hound breath 
 Taints, poisons, weaves in webs of death 
 
 The poor unfortunate, 
 
26 HODGE. 
 
 And smile ? — So laughed with hellish glee 
 Men, at the martyring misery 
 
 Of a scorpion thrown into flame 
 Yet, ere the tortured suicide 
 Struck the stern death-blow, aloud he cried, 
 
 " On you the sin, the shame, 
 
 On you alight the crime ye cause, 
 On you fall retribution's laws, 
 
 On you be curse and ban ; 
 Crimeless not I, but ye shall bear 
 The weight of my sad sepulchre, 
 
 Outcast of God and man." 
 
 HODGE. 
 
 That man is never out at sea 
 Who has a natural buoyancy, 
 
 Like cork or feather ; 
 Nor is he lost, though out of town, 
 Who can make himself a bed of down 
 
 From moss or heather. 
 
"27 
 
 He may be never fairy-led 
 
 Who has natural glow-worms in his head ; 
 
 He who has not, 
 If in the dark, had better take 
 The shining grub from the dewy brake 
 
 And stick on his coat. 
 
 Not so, thought Hodge, whose upper rooms, 
 Like nicely-gilded Chinese tombs 
 
 Were to let unfurnished : 
 It were time enough, if he should let them, 
 To rout the fixtures up and get them 
 
 Well cleaned and burnished. 
 
 Soaking himself, as he was wont 
 In the good, old-accustomed haunt, 
 
 Stupid as a log : 
 " No, that he would not from danger flinch, 
 What cared he for frog-eating French, 
 
 Who cared for fog ? 
 
 " He would not take the offered lantern, 
 He knew the way, he did n't want one, 
 
 He would n't have it ; 
 He knew he was not in a fog, 
 Or if he were, a free-born dog 
 
 Would never slave it. 
 
 " No, he would be neither led nor lighted, 
 He knew that he was not benighted/' 
 So, made a start : 
 
28 
 
 Hallooing, he set the wide moor ringing ; 
 Whistling, and staggering, and singing, 
 Kept up his heart. 
 
 And 'though the mist its blackness blackened, 
 No, not a whit his pace he slackened, 
 
 But right on drove. 
 Nought could he see a yard around, 
 Nor stick, nor stake, upon the ground, 
 
 Nor star above. 
 
 But he was staunch and resolute, 
 
 A thorough, headstrong, bull-dog brute, 
 
 And as he could not 
 See through the gloom, " Why, what cared he ? 
 He was a Briton born, and free, 
 
 And see he would not." 
 
 Muffling his coat around his head, 
 Onward the booby blundered 
 
 Right manfully : 
 Nor hesitated, until his sconce 
 With an old oak tree played at bonce 
 
 For mastery. 
 
 From the timber trunk, his timber head 
 Bounded off nimbly, and he fled 
 
 Like a marble split : 
 Twirling round, like a Catherine-wheel, 
 Heel over head, head over heel 
 
 Down a gravel-pit. 
 
THE EXILE. 29 
 
 Laughing, you call drunken Hodge " a fool ;" 
 Are there no others in the school 
 
 The cap will fit ? 
 Whoever shuts both ears and eyes, sirs, 
 And listens not to good advisers 
 
 Has little wit : 
 
 And, boy or man, whoe'er persists, 
 And, obstinately mad, resists 
 
 Against tuition ; 
 Will, ere long on life's journey outset, 
 Find himself in a gravel-pit 
 
 Or in worse condition. 
 
 THE EXILE. 
 
 TO AN ENGLISH DAISY POUND IN A FOEEION LAND. 
 
 Lovely flower of islands blest 
 Melting soft in western light, 
 Waking in my throbbing breast 
 Thoughts and dreams of lost delight : 
 Art thou friend, or art thou foe, 
 Speakest thou of joy, or woe, 
 
30 THE EXILE, 
 
 Speakest thou of war, or peace, 
 Of misery or happiness, 
 Still will I clasp thee to my heart 
 For of my father-land thou art. 
 
 Loveliest gem of beauty's isle, 
 Comest thou in wrath to me, 
 Or, cradled in affection's smile, 
 Trackedst thou the stormy sea ? 
 Pledge of love, or threat of hate, 
 Balmed with health, or barbed with fate, 
 Laden with curse, or fraught with blessing, 
 Rejecting me, or still caressing, 
 Yet will I clasp thee to my heart, 
 For of my father-land thou art. 
 
 Bonniest bloom of nature's wreath, 
 Tell me good, yet tell me truth : 
 Breathes the fond paternal breath 
 That hallowed my earliest youth ; 
 Breathes a mother's holy sigh 
 Deep imbued with sympathy ; 
 Brothers, sisters, do they pray 
 For the poor exile far away ? 
 Oh, whisper to my anxious heart 
 For of my father-land thou art. 
 
 Hearest thou ? — Oh, answer me, 
 Did the sainted tear-drop fall ; 
 Did they in silent ecstacy 
 To memory's soul my form recal ; 
 
THE EXILE. 31 
 
 Does thy fairy-cup enfold 
 Friendship's brightest, purest gold ; 
 Did the dew that decks thy stem 
 Fall from chaste love's diadem ? 
 Oh, whisper to my anxious heart, 
 For of my father-land thou art. 
 
 Thou speakest not. But I will speak, 
 But I will dream of days gone by ; 
 Think, 'till my heart with thinking break, 
 And sigh 'till thought forget to sigh ; 
 And under the parental roof 
 I hear the kind, the fond reproof, 
 I hear the prayer ascend to heaven, 
 I feel respondent blessings gi^en, 
 And, crush thee on my bursting heart 
 For of my father-land thou art. 
 
 Blessed flower ; thy look is peace, 
 Thy meek and maiden modesty, 
 Rich in its own contentedness, 
 Bids carking care my dwelling flee : 
 Oh, I will love, will o'er thee bend, 
 A fast-sworn, never-swerving friend ; 
 And as my homeward-seeking sigh 
 Blends with thy gentle fragrancy, 
 Still will I press thee to my heart, 
 For of my father-land thou art, 
 
32 
 
 THE MISANTHROPE. 
 
 No, — ask not why my brow is stern, 
 No, — ask not why my eye is sad. — 
 Gloom and despair may pass away, 
 Madness may leave its outworn pre}^ 
 Pitied and mourned : but I, — yes, I 
 Am loathed as creation's enemy. 
 
 And yet I weep ; and yet I know, 
 In fancy know each human thrill ; 
 Know all the charities that twine 
 Their tendrils round compassion's shrine, 
 Yet snap them through, and as they die 
 Writhe in reproachful agony. 
 
 And, know you not ? No, never know, 
 No, never feel this sordid fire. 
 Poisonous, 'twill gnaw the sinewy form, 
 Baneful, 'twill beauty's self deform, 
 And fretting, cankering, withering still, 
 Brand thee a minister of ill. 
 
 Yet, pass me not. — No — not in need 
 Of help, of pity, shun me thus. 
 
THE MISANTHROPE. 33 
 
 Feel I not all the wounds I give ; 
 Do I not feared and hated live : 
 Loved, not by one, by none revered, 
 By myself hated, loathed, feared ? 
 
 No social joy for me has joys, 
 
 No grief has griefs that I can share : 
 
 Entrenched in self, in drear delight 
 
 Consuming day, exhausting night, 
 
 Isolatedly alone 
 
 I smile, I sigh, I laugh, I groan. 
 
 Yet know I not ferocious hate, 
 Nor know I spite, nor malice know ; 
 No wish have I around to hurl 
 Destruction, and in the maddening whirl 
 Ride riot, and with baleful blast 
 Wither the joys I cannot taste. 
 
 Oh, yes, — my soul can, in her flight, 
 Paint weeping joys to thaw my heart. 
 Tears of imaginary woe 
 The stone can melt. — The ice can flow — 
 And yet, — and yet I scarcely feel 
 The real woes of the miserable. 
 
 Outstretched in anguish, gnawn by pain, 
 Pined down by want, a crawling corpse 
 Vainly implores, entreats in vain. 
 
34 THE MISANTHROPE. 
 
 Close gripes my hand. Not in the vein 
 For pity, I, unblest, pass by ; 
 Unblest, yet pitied by charity. 
 
 And I can scowl, and I can draw 
 My heart-strings tight, my blood suppress ; 
 Compress each generous, struggling tear, 
 Each hope, each wish, ensepulchre, 
 And, wrapt in night, and wrapt in gloom, 
 Live, as I were a living tomb : 
 
 A living bane, all hope to blight, 
 
 A kill- crop wretch, all joy to mar.— 
 
 The mother round her baby flings 
 
 Protecting arms, the scared child clings 
 
 And screams : — and friends — no friend have I, 
 
 No, not with beasts in amity. 
 
 Oh, no. — I live, from life exiled, 
 Inhabiting, not of this world. 
 Homeless at home ; I nought possess 
 Possessing all ; drear wretchedness 
 Is all my joy ; my hope is all 
 Despair ; my birth, a funeral. 
 
 Here, buried — there, futurity 
 Lights not. — Yes— oh, despite of all 
 Corroding torments ; there I see 
 Light marching forth in panoply, 
 Creating good, destroying ill, 
 One glad, eternal miracle. 
 
the bardie's lament. 35 
 
 Oh, pray for me ! — For you I pray, 
 
 Though bitter are the plaints I breathe ; 
 
 Pray this repulsive temper may 
 
 No longer bind me as its prey ; 
 
 Oh pray that I, once more, may know 
 
 The endearing sanctities of woe : 
 
 Those lovely sanctities, those joys, 
 The joys, the fears, of angels born ; 
 Those pleasures which en-honey mirth, 
 Beatitudes which, o'er the hearth 
 Circling on flowery pinions, bind 
 Man unto man, and kind to kind. 
 
 THE BARDIE'S LAMENT 
 
 FOR HIS PET CHAFFINCH. 
 
 Puir, bonnie birdie ! thou art gane 
 Scrimpit in flesh, an' bluid, an' bane, 
 Unheard thy last, departin' mane 
 
 To lang, lang rest ; 
 Biggin aneath the moulderin stane 
 
 Thy drearie nest. 
 
 d 2 
 
36 the bardie's lament. 
 
 Thou wert indeed, a bonnie birdie, 
 Braw feathers deckit thy sleekit hurdie, 
 An' nobler presence had na Geordie 
 
 Upon his throne, 
 Wi' a' his gowd, his trash, his dirdie, 
 
 Scaptre, an* croun. 
 
 Bauld was thy brow, an' gleg thine e'e, 
 Thy skirl wad stay the passer by, 
 As chatterit on reight gloriously 
 
 Thy cheerfu' sang, 
 Blithe as thou had' been ever free, 
 
 Nat prisoned lang. 
 
 It was nae whimperin, whifflin glaver, 
 Nae daft, Italian cleishmaclaver, 
 Nae Colin-hoodie, pipin' ever 
 
 Wi* unco pain, 
 But true-born Briton, rantin owre 
 
 His jollie strain. 
 
 In spite ©' pain, in spite o' waes, 
 Spite o' the glow'r o' feline faes, 
 Spite o' the sheers that skelpit thy taes, 
 
 An* touchit the marrow, 
 An' garred thee hirple a' thy days, 
 
 Thou hast kenned na sorrow. 
 
 Hartsome an' winsome, fu' o' glee, 
 
 Thou perkit thy crest, an glentit thine e'e. 
 
the bardie's lament. 37 
 
 An' lookit, apprehension free,, 
 
 On the han' that fed thee ; 
 Undreaming 'twas the neif sae slee, 
 
 Thus evil sped thee. 
 
 But, birdie ! 'twas na meant for ill j 
 Nae bad intent, nae wicked will, 
 But sheer unlawfu' want o' skill 
 
 Did thee the wrang, 
 An' garred my vera heart-bluid thrill 
 
 Like thine ain sang. 
 
 But thou forgie'd it, an' I made, 
 In sma' amend for the rude raid, 
 An easie perch, an' cosie bed, 
 
 An nursit thee weel, 
 An'ance I howkit thee frae the deid 
 
 Wi 'warier skill. 
 
 An' ance, an' ever we were friends, 
 
 Sic as the warl' na aften finds, 
 
 Ane in our hearts, an' ane our minds ; 
 
 Thou o'er thy game 
 Crackin content, an I wi' pains, 
 
 'Hovin thy wame. 
 
 'Hech, birdie! spite o' a' thy ills, 
 Thou had nae bodin grief that kills, 
 Waur than a' blisters, draps, an pills, 
 An' sic like trash; 
 
38 the bardie's lament. 
 
 Whiles routh an' stouth thy crawie filled 
 Thou had need na fash. 
 
 But man, puir man, may drudge an' toil, 
 Vapour, an' swagger for a while, 
 May spen' himsel in the turmoil 
 
 For fame an' wealth, 
 Glad to escape the sufferin coil 
 
 Wi loss o' health. ' 
 
 Wi' loss o' health, wi' loss o' gear, 
 The hard, hard toil o' mony a year, 
 Loss o' each guid the warl' haud's dear, 
 
 An' waur than a' 
 Wi'out a friend to drap a tear, 
 
 O'er his cauld clay. 
 
 While thou nay, birdie ! thou maun dee 
 
 To live na mair: — but man may be, 
 Gin he tak tent o' Christian'ty 
 
 A spirit fair, 
 An, deeing ance, may rise wi' glee, 
 
 To dee na mair. 
 
39 
 
 OH, ISRAEL! 
 
 Rise, in your faith, O Israel, rise ! 
 
 Gird, gird your armour on ; 
 O'er mountain, forest, vale, heath, plain, 
 
 O'er Ocean journey on. 
 
 Pour from the wave-encircled south, 
 Pour from the ice-bound north ; 
 
 Pour from the east, pour from the west, 
 Pour, pour your children forth. 
 
 From Albion's cliff, Columbia's wild, 
 
 From Erin and from Gaul ; 
 From Gades to Moscovia, 
 
 Your standard summons all. 
 
 From Elam, Parthia, Media, 
 From China's teeming land ; 
 
 From Gambia's blazing sands of gold, 
 From Egypt's fertile strand : 
 
 On, on, on, on : not in your might, 
 
 Not in your mortal pride ; 
 But in the strength of Hiin, who lives, 
 
 And yet was crucified. 
 
40 OH, ISRAEL ! 
 
 Humble and meek, yet firm, yet fierce 
 
 Against trie deadly foe ; 
 Who, wielding sin, and hell, and death, 
 
 Once laid your leader low : 
 
 But yet had scarcely viewed the deed, 
 Scarce heard the parting breath, 
 
 Ere chains of ever-living fire 
 Bound him, sin, hell, and death, 
 
 Indissolubly bound. — On, on, on, on, 
 On from each servile band ; 
 
 On with your gems, on with your gold, 
 On to your father-land, 
 
 On, on ; and when ye kiss the soil 
 Which your forefathers trod, 
 
 In strains of deathless gratitude, 
 Bless your forefathers' God. 
 
 Bless Him, who through the Coral- Sea 
 Led Israel's wanderers forth ; 
 
 Bless Him, who Israel's glorious host, 
 Draws from the frozen north. 
 
 Bless Him from Sharon's roseate vale, 
 
 Bless Him from Aijalon ; 
 Bless Him from Carmel's flowery top, 
 
 Bless Him from Lebanon. 
 
41 
 
 And as ye bless Him, from your hills, 
 
 Pour on the darkling earth, 
 That light, that life, that joy, that love, 
 
 Which leads your legions forth. 
 
 'Till every land and every tongue 
 Shall your blest chorus swell ; 
 
 And heaven to earth, and earth to heaven, 
 The gladdening story tell. 
 
 PRAYER. 
 
 Say, what is prayer, and whence shall prayer 
 In meetest guise ascend to heaven; — 
 
 By sculptured fanes, by cloisters fair, 
 Is strength to supplication given ? 
 
 Does solitude to prayer incite, 
 Or cherish crowds the holy fire ; 
 
 Illumes it with the altar's light, 
 Responds it to the sounding lyre ? 
 
42 
 
 Can brilliant day, can nightly gloom. 
 Can twilight in her misty pall ; 
 
 Or, can the solitary tomb 
 
 The yew-tree shade, the ivied wall, 
 
 The rains where our fathers lie, 
 
 The caves where saintly martyrs rest; 
 
 Raise into sacred energy 
 
 The slumbering of the sordid breast ? 
 
 In fear, in anguish, in despair, 
 
 Prayer may ascend with bitterest shriek ; 
 As, slumbering caught within their lair, 
 
 Yells may from slaughtered lions break. 
 
 In pining hope, in misery, 
 
 Earnest and frequent prayer may rise ; 
 But oh, the Christian loves to see, 
 
 The uninterested sacrifice. 
 
 And loves, abstracted if alone, 
 
 Abstracted though in thronged fanes, 
 
 Mentally prostrate at the throne 
 Of mercy, to pour out its strains. 
 
 Secret from all, but Him, whose ear, 
 
 Whose eye, whose love, which never sleep 
 
 Read in the penitential tear, 
 
 Praises which contrite creatures weep. 
 
CONTRITION. 43 
 
 Yes — that is praise and that is prayer, 
 
 Though eye, nor lip, nor gleam, nor move, 
 
 Which, upward on their pinions bear, 
 Revering duty, fervent love. 
 
 And that the place whence prayer should rise, 
 Where holiest thoughts the soul prepare ; 
 
 Altars make not the sacrifice, 
 
 Nor time, nor place, the Christian prayer. 
 
 CONTRITION. 
 
 From dreariest depths of misery, 
 From vales of deepest woe ; 
 
 In anguish wails my bitter cry, 
 In terror heaves my throe. 
 
 Oh mighty, dreadful, terrible, 
 
 Justly incensed God; 
 Oh look in mercy on the worm 
 
 That writhes beneath thy rod. 
 
44 CONTRITION. 
 
 My guilt, my weariness, my woe, 
 Lie prostrate at thy throne ; 
 
 Worthless and wretched, outcast, lost, 
 My sinfulness I own. 
 
 I plead, in tears of blood I plead, 
 
 I, deeply shuddering cry, 
 Guilty ! oh, guilty ! guilty still ! 
 
 My guilt will never die : 
 
 But deadlier, deadlier, deadlier still, 
 
 Will be my misery ; 
 More dreadful, and more dreadful still, 
 
 My torturing agony. 
 
 There is no hope, no trembling hope, 
 
 No hope to be forgiven ; 
 None in the deep, none in the earth, 
 
 No — none in highest heaven. 
 
 None, none — but One— and for his grace, 
 
 I dare not, dare not plead ; 
 Who can for me, for that blest hope, 
 
 Dare yet to intercede. 
 
 Not one, not one : — of all that lured, 
 
 Of all that cheered me on ; 
 None can, for me, for pardon plead, 
 
 Not one, not one, not one. 
 
CONTRITION. 45 
 
 Not one. — There is but only one, 
 
 And Him I dare not see ; 
 He came from heaven to die for man, 
 
 But could not die for me. 
 
 For crime on crime, still bear me down, 
 
 Still plunge me deeper still ; 
 Strong as His mercy, strong His love, 
 
 My crimes are stronger still. 
 
 And, though His all-atoning blood 
 Could cleanse the encrimsoned sea ; 
 
 It could not, could not hide my crimes, 
 It could not flow for me. 
 
 And, could His ever-yearning love 
 Place me on heaven's pure throne ; 
 
 My guilt would snatch my withering soul, 
 And hurl me, headlong, down. 
 
 I am the only, only one, 
 
 That cannot be forgiven ; 
 All may be pardoned, all be saved, 
 
 All, all may enter heaven, 
 
 But me. — Yet could I, could I pray, 
 
 He might in mercy deign 
 To hear — 'tis said, the vilest wretch, 
 
 Never implores in vain. 
 
46 CONTRITION. 
 
 But I am so, so deadly vile, 
 
 Without, around, within, 
 My penitence would stream with guilt, 
 
 My prayer would shriek with sin. 
 
 I shriek, I shriek. — Oh, pardon me, 
 Save, save, oh, save my soul : 
 
 Cleanse, cleanse my fearful guiltiness, 
 Make, make, oh make me whole, 
 
 Make, make me pray — Oh, by thy blood, 
 
 Which flowed on Calvary ; 
 By thy dread, last, expiring groan, 
 
 And, by thine agony, 
 
 Hear, hear, oh, hear ! a suppliant wretch 
 Heed, heed my piteous cry : 
 
 Look down in mercy, on my soul, 
 Save, save thine enemy, 
 
 Save, save me. 
 
47 
 
 A HYMN. 
 
 Soul of the world, dread source of light, 
 
 In all perfection infinite ; 
 
 Creation's all-pervading sense ; 
 
 Pure, self-sustained intelligence ! 
 
 The teeming earth, heaven's glorious host, 
 
 Moons, suns, and stars, in radiance lost ; 
 
 In glowing concert, as they roll, 
 
 Hail Thee, The Universal Soul. 
 
 The intensely clear, the tranquil sky, 
 Broad ocean's calm immensity, 
 Motionless air, the roseate breath 
 Of flood, of fell, of mead, of heath ; 
 Earth wide outspread, her thousand hills, 
 Her thousand vales, her thousand rills, 
 Instinct with Thee, in glad accord 
 Hail Thee, The Universal Lord. 
 
 And day, and night, the dazzling blaze 
 
 Of fervid noon, the placid gaze 
 
 Of midnight deep, blithe summer's heat, 
 
 Stark winter's cold, the arrowy sleet, 
 
 The still-descending, genial rain, 
 
 The dew-reek from the laughing plain; 
 
 All, all, rejoicing in their birth, 
 
 Hail Thee, The Lord of heaven and earth. 
 
48 
 
 And every tribe of every form, 
 
 That glide the lake, or ride the storm, 
 
 That thread the caverns of the deep, 
 
 Or climb the wild mount's splintered steep, 
 
 In ceaseless stream that cloud the sky, 
 
 Or, darkling in the dank fen lie ; 
 
 All, all that creep, all, all that soar, 
 
 Thee, The Creator-Lord adore. 
 
 All, in exuberant songs of mirth, 
 Swell the glad praises of the earth ; 
 All, in rich floods of melody, 
 Swell the glad praises of the sky ; 
 All, in exulting, rapturous strain 
 Swell the glad praises of the main : 
 By Thy whole universe adored 
 Thou art, The only God and Lord. 
 
BIRTH, 
 
 DEATH, 
 
 RETRIBUTION 
 
 % §txit& of ^fcetdjeS, 
 
 IN VERSE, 
 
51 
 
 BIRTH. 
 
 THE MOTHER' 
 
 Hard by the gate of death I swooned, 
 The glazing film suffused mine eye ; 
 
 A.s outworn by one leprous wound 
 Scarce could I raise my piteous cry. 
 
 But Thou didst hear that piteous moan. 
 But Thou didst stoop my soul to free j 
 
 The grave re-echoed, as my groan 
 Swelled to a shout of victory. 
 
 Oh, thou, that didst in mercy hear 
 Still, still secure me from all ill ; 
 
 Teach me thy holy name to fear, 
 Teach me to love thy holy will : 
 e 2 
 
5.2 
 
 And, teach me in thy narrowest path 
 To train this dear, this first-born child ; 
 
 To bid her, in the day of wrath, 
 Plead, and to thee be reconciled. 
 
 Baby, thou sleepest void of fear : 
 
 So sleep, so live, so die, secure 
 Heaven has for thee a pardoning tear, 
 
 And heaven's redeeming love is sure. 
 
 Dwelling upon each tone, 
 As though each tone struck on some sister key ; 
 In gentlest play, informing but not marring 
 The angelic features, sympathy, commiseration, 
 Hope, and all else of endearing import, mark 
 The ministering spirits ; each from each 
 Varying as vary roses of one stem, 
 Equally beauteous, fragrant equally, as watching, 
 Guarding, supporting, and with kindliest aid 
 Whispering resignation, they surround 
 A sister of earthly elements. 
 
 They watch 
 In guardianship, and, where they watch, 
 Afar off in loathsome»c conclave, fiends, in the foulest 
 Concord of hatred, their discordant forms 
 Roll back compulsively, while lips of earth 
 "Vibrate with notes of heaven. 
 
IURTH. 53 
 
 Pausing, 
 As when some lovely modulation melts, 
 And mingles with young evening's balmy breath 
 Its richest intonation, spell- bound, the ear 
 Entrances up the senses, and we sit 
 Breathless, lest breathing unjoy us, the blest watchers 
 Hang silent : — then, in rapturous ecstacy 
 The full chord strike : 
 
 HYMN OF THE MINISTERING SPIRITS. 
 
 ". Glory ! 
 Glory. Hear ye ! hail the sound. 
 Glory. Earth and heaven are bound 
 Once more. Once more the blest ethereal fire 
 Breathes from heaven to inspire 
 The barren clod. The senseless clay 
 Wakes to creation's bounteous day. 
 
 Glorious, wondrous. Deity 
 Manifests himself in thee, 
 Piteous, helpless, wailing child. 
 'Though not less in insect swarms, 
 'Though not more in angel forms, 
 'Though not more in worlds that sail, 
 Curving through night's dusky veil ; 
 'Though not more in systems, sweeping 
 Dim in distance, almost sleeping, 
 
54 BrRTH. 
 
 As they, exanimate in awe, 
 Infinitude arising saw 
 From nothing : — yet in thee, more mildly, 
 More mercifully, more lovingly, 
 Frail germ of immortality, 
 Glows the life-giving Deity. 
 Glory ! " 
 
 Under mild southern skies, 
 At vintage even, rises on the breeze 
 A sacred vesper-hymn. Aerial twilight spreads 
 Its deep, subduing softness, o'er the calm, 
 Clear, silver-bosomed streamlet : until the senses 
 Lulled in voluptuous sweetness, sink in peaceful 
 Undreading slumber. 
 
 Fierce, licentious eyes 
 Glare from the gloomy ravine. The dark Corsair 
 Shrieks his bewildering cry, as intercepting chasms 
 Forbid the concerted swoop. The startled peasants 
 In their security, with wonder gaze 
 As the torch-gleams, illumining horrid brows 
 Paint man in his demon form, and in instinctive dread 
 Close trembling around their offspring : so closer draw 
 The ministering spirits as the fiends 
 Raise their insulting taunt. 
 
55 
 
 THE TAUNT OP THE DEMONS. 
 
 " Horror ! — ha, ha ! — Derision and scorn, 
 Why mock ye thus at the brat newly born ? 
 Why mock we thus ? Mock they not their chief 
 With flatteries belying their firm belief? 
 
 Ha, ha, — ha, ha! — Think ye that the song, 
 And the silvery lisp of an angel's tongue 
 Keep us aloof ? In their leashes restraining, 
 Blood-hounds and vampires backward reining, 
 We poison their fangs, as they champ and chew, 
 And yelp, and change their putrescent hue. 
 
 Why poison we, why barb we their teeth ; 
 Why tinge we, why taint we their pestiferous breath ? 
 Why ? but to gibe, and to jeer, and to laugh, 
 While, wallowing in blood, they the life-blood quaff. 
 
 Ha-ha, ha-ha ! How ye crouch and quail, 
 
 And fan off with your pennons the life-tainting gale. 
 
 Chary be ye of the breathing clay : 
 
 We snuff the quarry, we scent the prey, 
 
 And, eager as death, and relentless as fate, 
 
 Swoop we, and tear we the wretches we hate. 
 
56 
 
 As we riot, and revel, and scream with delight ; 
 Retreating, and cowering, and withering with fright, 
 Pray ye, and wail ye, while we in full cry, 
 Mangle your charge, and the limbs toss on high. 
 
 Aye, smile ye ! restrained, as ye know, is our rage, 
 That driveller's love shall grow colder with age, 
 And the prayer which now haloes the child of his soul, 
 Those prayers which inveterate diseases controul, 
 Shall faint and shall fail, and the hope and the faith 
 Die in distrust, and unshackle grim death : 
 
 And we shall exult as vice stains her deeper, 
 As pleasures unhallowed in infamy steep her ; 
 As, marred in its blossom, as cankered and gnawn, 
 
 So guard ye your charge." 
 
 In aspiration fervent, lowly bending, 
 
 Humbled in dust, as in the awful presence 
 
 Of Him, whose infinite essences pervade 
 
 His works, stupendous works ! surpassing far more 
 
 Man's labours, than the flesh-shrined intellect, 
 
 (Which confines, almost diving into the blaze 
 
 Of heaven's effulgence, and from the holiest fountain 
 
 Drinketh in wisdom, until the expansive scene 
 
 Of his Creator's works lies stretched around 
 
 As Europe beneath Etna, and the vile reptile 
 
 Almost becomes as a god) surpasses blank 
 
57 
 
 And chilling nothingness : — with arms outstretche d, 
 And eyes, which fain would, although in humility 
 They dare not look toward heaven ; while pure tears 
 Of overflowing gratitude and love 
 Well from the heart's inmost sources, adoringly 
 The father's prayer arises. 
 
 THE FATHER'S PRAYE1 
 
 " Oh, thou great, 
 Dread, dread, Creator ! How have I deserved 
 Weak, worthless, vile, abased as I am 
 This increase of blessing ? Could I thank thee more 
 Than tears, and trembling yet aspiring love 
 Can thank, more were too meanly despicable 
 But that thou stoopest and from the peasant hand 
 Acceptest the obscurest flower. — At thy feet 
 I thank, I bless, I praise. — O thou, my Maker ! 
 So pour thine influence, so imbue her soul, 
 That growing, she may, like thee when on earth, 
 In stature so in spiritual increase, live 
 Amid this darkness, an immingled ray 
 Of virtues brightest and dearest. Upon her head 
 Pour blessings. Bid ministering spirits guard 
 Her tottering steps. Be thou, be thou, O Father ! 
 Through this wayfaring life, her helm, her shield : 
 Whatever ill, whatever misery may, 
 
58 
 
 In thy best wisdom, purify her from 
 
 Earth's thraldom ; oh, do thou her footsteps guide, 
 
 Still bear her harmless, still the tempter stay, 
 
 Still lead her onward, until from the dizzy verge 
 
 Of utmost earthy across death's blank abyss 
 
 The purest exhalation e'er that ascended 
 
 In burning incense, Thee only excepted, wing 
 
 Its joyous flight." 
 
 And, joyously around 
 Spirits of awful form, as age on age, 
 Had goodliest lines of noblest ancestry 
 Star-crowned poured forth ; intently listening, 
 Dwell on the suppliant accents : then, in unison 
 Lowly resounding, as from some cloistered fane 
 Vigil or orison, in holiest strain 
 Ascendeth with the mellowing murmur mingled 
 Of distant rushing water ; pray they not 
 Riches, or rank, or beauty, or endoAvment 
 Of highest intellect ; but, giving life 
 To wishes, which but rising in the mind, 
 Unuttered but in thought, the parent's soul 
 Still spell-bound hold : prophetical of good 
 Implore they Christian virtues, amplest power 
 Beneficence to wish, to will, to effect ; 
 That, blest in the contemplation, earth and heaven 
 Harmonionsly rejoicing, they and theirs, 
 Mutually enlightening, mutually excelling 
 Each other in perfection's varied forms, 
 May, fondly looking through the splendid void 
 
BIRTH. 59 
 
 Of by-gone ages, illumined brilliantly 
 
 As a sea of star-light, trace, still wondering trace 
 
 Their devious trackways, until, with bliss o'erpowered 
 
 And rapturous gratitude, dissolving, as if they died 
 
 Into the Eternal's splendour, in holiest hymns 
 
 Unutterably, incommunicably rich 
 
 In treasures of beatific vision, they 
 
 Ever may dwell upon, ever may celebrate 
 
 This natal hour. 
 
 And, as their prayer subsides, 
 That blest Archangel, he who first perceives 
 And human life incipient nourishes 
 Until the day-spring greets it ; yielding up his charge, 
 The ministering spirits, bids rejoice 
 In this, of the Creator's power another instance. 
 Of his pervading care another pledge. 
 
 THE ANGEL OF LIFE. 
 
 u As never failed them day, and sister night 
 Yet never left them by her balms unsoothed 
 So never yet has failed, nor yet shall fail 
 Until the grand consummation of the proof 
 Of His hatred and His love ; one equal line 
 Of beings accountable, perpetuated 
 By secondary causes, yet eloquently 
 Bearing the impress of perpetuated 
 
60 
 
 Creation. — In this weak, puny flesh, 
 
 In this poor being, helpless and ignorant, 
 
 The breath of God, an immortal principle 
 
 Has given life to, whose irradiations 
 
 May, in the wisdom of the dread First Cause, 
 
 Illuminate, and beautify, and embellish, 
 
 Of this terrestrial scene, the social joys, 
 
 And, ultimately, sisters, the new-born angel, 
 
 As now the new-born mortal, we may greet 
 
 And chorus its acclamations." 
 
 THE CHARGE TO THE GUARDIAN-ANGEL. 
 
 " Sister, thou 
 Hast nourished, and to its perfected expansion watched 
 Of human mold an amaranthine flower 
 And needest another ward. — Around her head 
 Here watch, and diligently, as thou knowest 
 Diligence how needful. Pour into her soul 
 Divinest consolation. As the germ 
 Of intellect awakening, spreads its fibres 
 As a tree its roots, nourishment seeking out, 
 Be wary, lest the marrer of our toil 
 Secretly taint the well-spring. As you may, 
 Not urging, not compelling, for the human soul 
 Accountable for action must be free 
 Action to purpose or effect, far off 
 Drive sedulously those who lurk around 
 
61 
 
 Externally to tempt, or by vile imagery 
 To impure the purest, most exalted, most 
 Ennobling of human virtues. Evil, they 
 Love evil, and, ever envious, ever strive 
 Him to assail, who but thus suffers them 
 His goodness, his perfection, his surpassing 
 Perfection to evince." 
 
 So charged, so sits 
 Watching the Guardian Angel; and around 
 A circlet of attendant spirits bend 
 In yearning love ; and, woven into sounds, 
 As insect murmurings rise upon the fragrance 
 Of morning's incense-tribute, harmoniously 
 The angel caution, and, responsively, 
 The angel entreaty arise. 
 
 THE RECORDING ANGELS. 
 
 '" Watchful be thou, sister spirit. 
 Slumber not upon thy guard ; 
 Evil may thy charge inherit 
 Shouldst thou fail in watch and ward. 
 
 THE GUARDIAN ANGEL. 
 
 ,c Vigilant, unslumbering, 
 Anxiously my charge I tend. 
 
62 
 
 Ye, who virtues numbering 
 Eagerly to heaven ascend, 
 Bearing elate the record true : 
 Should ye in your voyage see 
 Any impending enemy, 
 Kindly give me caution due." 
 
 THE ATTENDANT SPIRITS. 
 
 " Fear they not, but pure affection 
 Bids the wish in sounds o'erflow ; 
 Vigilance and circumspection 
 Need we ; stealthy is the foe." 
 
 THE GUARDIAN ANGEL. 
 
 " Mortal mansions circuiting, 
 Anxious ever to defend ; 
 As ye ply the agile wing 
 See ye aught that can offend, 
 Palsying dew, exciting air, 
 With demoniac malice fraught, 
 To fever or to enerve the thought, 
 Warn me of the subtle snare." 
 
63 
 
 THE ATTENDANT SPIRITS. 
 
 " Fear thou not ; nor time, nor distance 
 Check the ever-ready aid ; 
 Wish thou, and the wished assistance 
 Waves its sword-fire round thy head." 
 
 Fixedly, 
 As in resolve not firmly yet resolved, 
 ,Eying the longed-for prey, as eyes some poor 
 Bewildered, lone, assistanceless traveller 
 Wrecked on untrodden shores, a tigress fell 
 By her whelps dry-drawn : so rabid, and so fell 
 Of purpose, lured from his midnight prowl 
 By the snarling, jackall clamour, the Wan-fiend, 
 Dark in his purposes (although scotched, and blasted 
 To ignominy and exile, still superiorly 
 Above his fellows rising, as pillared flame 
 Shoots up in awful volume, through ember-charged 
 Mephitic volcano smoke) upon one knee 
 Resting his pennoned arms, and pressing hard 
 With clenched hands, the close-set, arching lips, 
 Straineth his eye-balls, whose malignant fires 
 Wander like storm-lapped suns, as though their glare 
 Snake-like, could draw, forth of her dim recess, 
 Futurity, and mark, as marks some chieftain 
 
In the lengthened legions of an opposing array- 
 Wherethrough to dash, and on his keen sword's edge 
 Balance mercy or slaughter. — Changing in hue 
 With rising passions, as contending fires 
 Hue-vary melting metals, his huge form 
 Heaves. — Unable to resolve 
 
 Flag down his thought-strained features, and a smile 
 Emphatically contemptuous, up-draws 
 The thick, expressive lip. 
 
 " Nurse, nurse, he cries, 
 Tend as ye will the despicable wretch, 
 Fan as he will my hungry harpies off, 
 Deep in the citadel, as pest and plague 
 Engender amid filth, corrupting passions 
 Their venemous rot-web spreading, despite of ye 
 Shall heat, shall seethe her blood : and, — yes i while ye 
 Unpowered by human wickedness, hold back 
 Weeping not striving ; shall, impetuously rushing 
 As the wild war-whoop rushes, hornet legions 
 Banquet upon your hive. — Weak, flimsy toys, 
 Pranked bubbles, floating in a colouring sun, 
 And bursting as he warms ye : wring it's neck, 
 And as ye wring it, decorously whine 
 A requiem. — Vile, this world 
 
 Us needs not to defile it, nor to increase 
 Evils, which springing as from corruption spring 
 Infectious foetid mosses, poison all 
 The easily-tainted labour. — But, revenge, 
 Dear, dear revenge for injury unmerited 
 
65 
 
 Onward impels. — Yes, yes, we will avenge us 
 
 And through his creature's sides, with goring wounds 
 
 Trench in his heart deep scars. — Our place to fill 
 
 By another, and a better race strives he ; 
 
 But, lest the loved work melt beneath his fingers 
 
 Flaws it by sinful fires ; or, if it escape 
 
 The trial, in his jewel cabinet 
 
 Uptreasures ringing-vessels, which, as his breath 
 
 Strikes them, must echo flatteries. — Think ye not 
 
 I envy this. His empty stalls behold 
 
 Like coffers of their dignifying treasures 
 
 Rudely despoiled, and clamorously upbraiding 
 
 The silly spendthrift ; and, your shame-stricken eyes 
 
 Feast on the fervid gems, deep-set in rich 
 
 Resplendent caskets, whose all-piercing blaze 
 
 Enriching the wide dominion, in whose bowels 
 
 He fondly thought to immure us, far out-peer 
 
 In real worth, his vapour-wreathed shrines 
 
 And independent greatness. His, as a void 
 
 Stall-carven choir ; and mine, as a glorious conclave 
 
 Of scarlet-coped cardinals." 
 
 So sneers 
 The vaunting, yet shuddering spirit. 
 
 Answering not 
 Rest upon angel weapons, the angels pure 
 Marking his downward flight. 
 
66 
 
 THE HYMN OF THE GUARDIAN SPIRITS. 
 
 " Yes, we trust thee : yes, we praise thee ; 
 Yes, we bless thee : yes, we adore thee, — 
 Thou art ever, ever near us, 
 Ever do we stand before thee, 
 Viewing, wondering as we view 
 Thy virtue, searching nature through 
 Producing, cherishing, impelling, 
 All created worth excelling; 
 Powerful, — as its power, to Thee 
 
 Were, veriest inanity : 
 Wise, as its wisdom were, to Thee 
 
 Dreariest fatuity : 
 Good, as its goodness were, to Thee 
 
 Bitterest malignity." 
 
67 
 
 DEATH. 
 
 Yes, — where is now that visionary form 
 
 Blithe as the earliest dream of striplinghood, 
 
 When fancy paints the senses, and the iris-wings of 
 
 hope, 
 Fanning love's infancy in faery bowers, 
 The ingenuous mind imbue ? — Yes — where sink now 
 Eyes that once swam in rapture ? where sleep now 
 Tones, at whose magical influence wrath stood still : 
 Footsteps, whose tip-toe eagerness, fell on the ear 
 As dew upon drooping violets : ready hands 
 Upstaying the aching head of wretchedness : 
 Thoughts which could intonate with thoughts, and, 
 
 silently 
 Heading the tearful wishes ; sympathetically 
 Assuring their fulfilment, cheer with consolation 
 The desolate spirit ? — Lies she there 
 Outworn, exhausted ; living as though death 
 Held mockery at life ? — Alas, alas ! 
 
 f 2 
 
68 DEATH. 
 
 Oh, what avails unspotted innocence ? 
 
 Oh, what avail fair virtues, deep-enshrined 
 
 As water in the palm-leaf, to refresh the traveller 
 
 And yield self-nourishment ? Oh, what avail 
 
 Perfections whose evanescent perfectness 
 
 Leaves us but more to mourn for ? 
 
 There, alas, 
 Rich in the fellowship of misery ; 
 Tended by piteous faces, wept by eyes 
 Which glitter in their repressed tribute ; whispered to 
 By tongues which pause in their condolence ; loving 
 
 and loved 
 Though the dissolving moments, slowly flowing 
 As oil through rose leaves, softly insidious steal 
 The fragrance they envelop.— Holily beautiful, 
 Serene in her endurance, placidly 
 Smiling, as infants smile upon the breast 
 Which feeds them : in the arms reposing 
 And cradled upon affection's throbbing bosom, 
 The dying Christian, listens as heaven's silver sounds 
 Blend with earth's moan of sorrow. 
 
 Rooted stands 
 Looking, yet looking not ; regarding, yet thinking not 
 Of aught, save how, triumphant from the scene 
 Of his sinking sister's death-bed, he may vaunt 
 Amid lewd companions his superiority 
 To nature, and nature's, custom-taught, impressions, 
 The Unbeliever : — offering to the world 
 Contemptuous sneers at the holy offices 
 
 
DEATH. 69 
 
 Wherein, mingling in one spirit, hallowed lips 
 The hallowed effusion breathing, taste, in faith, 
 Joys which reality in other worlds 
 To heighten may lack power. 
 
 Hopes, against hope, 
 Their mother, bending in the weight of years, 
 Less than in weight of anxiety, the sad picture 
 In its unpictured eloquence, may pierce through 
 The fatal slumbering of conscience, and from that rock 
 Tear forth the living fountain. 
 
 Fearing most, 
 As most to lose possessing, of her youth 
 The husband and the friend : — and, friends endeared 
 By reciprocal affection, silently 
 Watch, as the sailor watches, of his bourne 
 The fading beacon-light. 
 
 Nor less intently, 
 Nor less in interest, nor less in love ; 
 Reclining over her pillow, communicating peace, 
 And gently through the closing mists disclosing 
 Glimpses of forms unearthly, as the soul 
 Flutters upon life's confine, neither of earth 
 Nor heaven ; upward her flight to wing 
 Longing yet fearing : the attendant spirits. 
 
 And, poised upon wings of ether, not in terrific, 
 Appalling semblance, but so clad, as joy 
 
70 DEATH. 
 
 And light were soul and body, he, at whose lightest 
 
 touch 
 Throw back their welcoming valves the gates of light ; 
 Or, on harsh hinges grating, smoke inwhelmed, 
 Stand gaping the gates of death, and in their greedy 
 
 gorge 
 Shrieks aloud hell's threshold : — tenderly assays 
 His subtlest, least-painful, shaft : and, him entreatingly 
 The Guardian Angel addresses : 
 
 " Oh, not in wrath, 
 Not in extremity of anger glare 
 As thou art wont, when Murder, with fell scowl, 
 Striding athwart his victim, in a moment 
 Fear- stricken, hears vengeance, clamorously shrill, 
 Rend midnight's veil, and demons howling rush 
 To the nauseous surfeit : Oh, though all must shudder 
 At thy momentous summons, even though thy voice 
 But echo their aspiration ; yet, if there be, 
 In kindliest greeting one more kindly accent, 
 As nard or balm, oh, melt it from thy lip." 
 
 And, with authority 
 Tempering his mildness, as of rank superior 
 In the heavenly hierarchy, to the Guardian Spirit, 
 Replies the Releasing Angel. 
 
 " Yet would I assume 
 Terrors surpassing all mortal dread ever moulded 
 From misty twilight : did I on the warring winds 
 
 
DEATH. 71 
 
 As a desolator riding, peal through the sounding surge 
 
 The death-knell ; or enwrapt with livid flame 
 
 Sweeping in the storm-rack, shake my baleful tresses : 
 
 Or, their restraint uncurbing, pour around 
 
 These, who, with torture gnashing, champ their fangs 
 
 In detestation : this refined spirit 
 
 Would, as pure air imprisoned in a loathsome 
 
 Stagnated pool, rise through the clinging elements 
 
 In scorn towards its native region. Thus exhausted, 
 
 Wearied, and to its last hold driven home 
 
 By suffering, and keenest anxiety, 
 
 Small were the pain attendant upon separation 
 
 From the mortal slough ; even though, apparently 
 
 To mortal senses, rending agony, 
 
 And shrinking tremor, speak as if the grave 
 
 Were, to the Christian terrible. For, know they not 
 
 These fearful shudderings, may be but as the struggling 
 
 Of the gay-fly from its coffin, to upwing 
 
 Its voyage ; while before it, endless light, 
 
 Me, floating in its radiance, such as thee, 
 
 And myriads of ministering spirits waving around 
 
 Their orient-coloured plumage, redolent 
 
 Of joy and rapture, hail me, not as Death, 
 
 But as of Eden's bliss the harbinger." 
 
n 
 
 THE LAST TEMPTATION. 
 
 " Despair, despair ! " 
 
 Crouching in sleight within the tangling tresses, 
 Watching the momentary respite of the Spirit's 
 Attentive guardianship, in portentous tone 
 Mutters the arch-fiend. In such extremity 
 No common spirit of limitary powers 
 And more limited malignancy, dare essay 
 The angel-phalanx to elude. 
 
 Inaudibly murmuring, 
 The dying mortal, feebly lifting up 
 Hands, once firm-clasped in fervour, in weakness] 
 
 strives 
 To entreat. 
 
 The Believer. 
 
 " Oh, merciful, 
 Often deserted Maker, oh, have mercy/' 
 
 Satan. 
 
 " Trust thou not 
 In this last hour Timely warning hadst thou 
 Yet lackest oil : There are no merchants here." 
 
DEATH. 73 
 
 The Believer. 
 
 " Faintly I strove, too erringly I walked 
 "Wavering in thy footpath. Oh, have mercy ! 
 'Though worthless, yet I dare his blood to plead 
 Who died " 
 
 Satan. 
 
 " And that blood stains thee fouler still 
 In its rejected atonement." 
 
 The Believer. 
 
 " Oh, I call on Thee ;— 
 Oh, as on earth, the participated blood 
 And body of my Redeemer, to my faith 
 G ave increase of faith, so, in thy heavenly rest, 
 Give, give me food, and cleanse my parched lip." 
 
 Satan. 
 
 " And can the crumbled corn and staining juice 
 Blanch crimes which would empurple the wide sea? 
 Uttermost ruin hangs upon the fond, 
 Deceitful superstition. — To a hair 
 You clung, and the hair has snapt." 
 
 The Believer. 
 
 " Impure, impure, 
 Loathsomely leprous : — Oh, avoid me all 
 Ye who love God : — behold me here, and scorn 
 The victim of his vengeance : — Oh, avoid me." 
 
74 DEATH. 
 
 Laughing with satisfaction, as the thick 
 Throe choaks the utterance, the pallid fiend 
 Gloats on his hoped-for prey. 
 
 Trembling 
 With agonizing fear, intensely straining 
 Their burning eyeballs, around the death-scene hang 
 With clenched hands, in awe-stricken commiseration 
 The miserable comforters. 
 
 Her eyes 
 Starting with incipient convulsion, frenziedly 
 Beseech for pity, as the quick- catching lip 
 Falls utter anceless. 
 
 "Satan!"— 
 
 And as the look 
 Of beautiful indignation scars his cheek, 
 Threatening, the foul fiend flees, and the Guardian 
 
 Spirit 
 Cheers her last hope. 
 
 The Guardian Angel. 
 
 " In mercy, not in wrath," 
 With gentlest breathing, bending as her hands 
 Wave off the clouding films ; " oh, not in wrath 
 Looks down thy Maker upon his erring child." 
 
 And, as a bent flag, from some turbid stream 
 Is by a playful light-wind's breath upraised 
 To assume strength's mimic semblance, rallying, 
 Hope's ebbing spirits flow back. 
 
DEATH. 75 
 
 The Believer. 
 
 " Gloriously Merciful : 
 Even in indignation merciful; 
 
 Oh, from this depth of misery, hear my languishing 
 Pour in my spirit thy subduing Spirit : — 
 Worthless, except in thine imputed worth, 
 Save, save me." 
 
 And the peace-answering voice of Heaven, 
 
 Manifest in the hectic, fluttering, flush, 
 
 And the quickened eyeball gleaming unearthily, 
 
 And the close-griping of the bony hands, 
 
 The outstretching of the limbs, and stillest stillness 
 
 Of the almost rigid features, lighted up 
 
 By expectation's glow ; holily significant 
 
 Of assurance re-assured, a correspondent 
 
 Saint-glow light up in each regarding eye, 
 
 Save his, in whose rank ear an insidious fiend 
 
 Whispers of riot and debauchery ; 
 
 Whispers of chains snapped off, of passions unthralled, 
 
 And the full swing of pleasure, unrebuked 
 
 By a sister's weeping eye. 
 
 In the calm pause, 
 As a fervid sun-beam raises on its stem 
 A flower from the seed's corruption, winningly gentle, 
 And in his features calling up fair smiles, 
 The Releasing Angel, lightly as Eden's zephyrs 
 Fan angel wings, the nascent spirit summons. — 
 
 In the perilous moment, pouring from her eyes 
 
76 DEATH. 
 
 The life-wish of her heart ; upon those eyes 
 
 Whose scorn had mocked her entreaties, the Christian 
 
 An earnest, a mournful gaze, [fixes 
 
 Nor word escapes. 
 Nor movement of the lip, but gleams one glance 
 As it had said, " presentient of its uselessness 
 I w r arn you yet once more," 
 
 Then, beaming all 
 The affections of her soul, concentrated 
 In one, departing farewell, gratefully 
 Her dear friends' kindness repaying : once reposing 
 Upon her widowed mother, w r ho, outstretched, 
 Over her feet kneels sobbing ; upon her head 
 Once begging benedictions, the love -filled gaze 
 Rivets itself upon her soul of soul 
 Thankfully, as he raises their infant child. 
 
 Playfully unsuspicious of his loss, 
 Pleased with the novelty, he pats her cheek 
 And smiles on his father ; then, nestling as he would 
 
 nestle 
 Eternally on the face he loves, one dying kiss, 
 The last act of a mother, closes up 
 The Christian mother's life. 
 
 No sound is heard. — 
 As in that first-born, universal stillness, 
 Unbroken by human foot, when, in the desert, 
 The Man of God, in visible glory saw 
 The type of God, they feel that such a scene 
 Is holy ground. 
 
77 
 
 But, in the ambient air, 
 Arising from her labour, virtuously- 
 Rejoicing in the triumph, the Guardian Angf" 
 Lifts her rejoicing stature, and pours forth 
 Her strain of gratitude. 
 
 HYMN OF THE GUARDIAN ANGEL. 
 
 " Supreme, above 
 All heavens, all worlds ; in thine immensity 
 All-perfect, ever-blessed ; gloriously holy : 
 In holiness, in glory, in thy perfections 
 Ever infinite ; nought couldst thou need to increase 
 Thine endless sum of happiness :— ^-yet, didst thou call 
 Into light and being, heavenly hierarchies 
 Of purely spiritual intelligence : 
 Didst wide outspread, in thy beneficence, 
 Orb upon orb, and ever limitless 
 In power as in mercy, dost sustain 
 All thine unbounded creation. This wild, bleak, 
 This cheerless earth, beneath thy glowing smile 
 Teemed into life exuberant. Man, of the dust 
 Twin-brother, drew from thee his living soul ; 
 And although he fell from his fealty, although he 
 Ungrateful, indefensible, blasted by sin 
 One of thy fairest works, and spiritual death, 
 A dense, black mist, a putrefying fen 
 Of present wretchedness, of future woe, 
 
78 DEATH. 
 
 Marred thine own image, and the dullest brute 
 
 Moved lordlier than his self-dethroned lord : 
 
 Yet didst thou, in thy mercy, promise him 
 
 Redemption; and, in thy plenitude of love, didst stoop, 
 
 Mysteriously beyond thy creature's thought, 
 
 As man to live, as man to suffer death, 
 
 From sin, from death, the never-dying death 
 
 Man to redeem. — Here, on thy foot- stool earth, 
 
 I view thine image, by thee perfected ; 
 
 And, perfect in my love and gratitude, 
 
 Adore thee in thy mercy. — Oh, mayest thou 
 
 Thus ever bless thy servant in her duty 
 
 And ever save the souls she has to tend. — 
 
 Alpha, Omega ; origin and end, 
 
 Substance and sum of all that created mind 
 
 Can, in sublimest musing, dimly conceive 
 
 Of infinite perfection, deign to accept 
 
 Thy lowliest creature's ardent gratitude. — 
 
 Earth, Earth, O Earth ! 
 Moon, and ye dazzling planets that wheel round 
 Your mystic orbits : thou, far-blazing sun : 
 Ye stars that in your innate ardour glow : 
 Swell, swell my song ! 
 
 Patriarchs, and kings, 
 Priests, prophets, seers : ye ministering Spirits, 
 Angel, Archangel, Cherub, Seraphim, 
 Bathed in the rapturous flood of harmony 
 Swell, swell my song ! 
 
 High, holy, just, 
 And merciful, and righteous ; mighty to save ; 
 The dread Lord God of heaven's effulgent hosts 
 
79 
 
 Bowed down his holy head : 
 
 In his own son, 
 
 His own, exalted, his beloved son, 
 
 He laid his glory down ; 
 
 He left his kingly throne ; 
 
 He stabled among men; 
 
 He bare man's life 
 
 In meagre poverty; 
 
 And, Lord of all, 
 
 Had not wherewith to pillow 
 
 His weary head : 
 
 He bare taunts, scoffs, 
 
 Despite, and contumely; 
 
 And, perfect in purity, 
 
 Died as a malefactor. 
 
 Upon the cross 
 
 He poured his righteous soul : 
 
 Upon the cross 
 
 He expiated sin, 
 
 And to himself 
 
 Himself he reconciled. 
 
 In his own creature's form, 
 
 In sorrow, grief, and shame, and ignominy, 
 
 He trampled on 
 
 The power of sin : 
 
 He from the brow 
 Of the arch-apostate tare his burning crown, 
 Spurned down his principalities and powers, 
 
 And from the grave, 
 The lone, dark, drear, the dismal, silent grave, 
 He rose a mighty conqueror, and dragged 
 
80 
 
 Sin, Death, and Hell 
 In triumph. 
 
 Then, then we sang, 
 
 And all the Morning- Stars, 
 
 And all heaven's hosts 
 
 Rang with our jubilee. 
 
 Then, then we sang, 
 
 As now — when saved from Sin, 
 
 As now — when saved from Death, 
 
 As now — when saved from Hell, 
 
 We see arise 
 
 A sainted sister from her agony, 
 
 Cleansed, purified, redeemed, 
 
 And sanctified, 
 
 And made, 
 
 Glorious, as God's own light, 
 
 Holy, as God's own love : 
 
 God, is all light, 
 God, is all love." 
 
 " Yes, God is light, and love, and holiness, 
 All might, all wisdom ; and, surpassing all, 
 Could any one perfection overpass 
 Another, God is all mercy and beneficence : 
 Witness this our dear sister." 
 
 And all space 
 Is filled with choiring spirits to rejoice with 
 The soul, for heaven secured. 
 
8] 
 
 Disappointed tigers, gnawing their lips for pain 
 And rancorous despite, the malignant fiends 
 Envy, yet still admire. Homage they pay 
 Perforce, and, revolting against the admission, sti 
 
 cry, perforce, 
 " How beautiful is virtue \" 
 
 The gladdened angel, 
 Breathing out holiness, and looking love, 
 As mothers look on their firstborn, bids her charge 
 Ascend to awaiting Heaven. 
 
 In delight, 
 And radiant rapture, and exulting triumph, 
 Attendant spirits spread their upward wings, 
 And the Released Spirit, in her ascent 
 Speaks her impressions. 
 
 " And I yet live. — The agonizing throe 
 Has not destroyed my spirit. — Still I live 
 Yet dread new life. — Strangers ye are not. 
 I have in dreams of holiest confidence 
 Seen ye hang o^er me, heard your seraph-songs, 
 And mingled in your praises ; yet I tremble 
 And shudder from your spotless purity. — 
 " Sister," ye hail me ; and your beaming eyes 
 Dance in their joyousness, and pearly tears 
 Of rapturous delight still welcome me. — 
 
 G 
 
8.2 
 
 Ye bid me soar, and y our impatient wings 
 
 Reflect the lightnings of yon piercing flame. — 
 
 Dragged down, impeded by my earthly stains, 
 
 I yet ascend with ye. — I yet am drawn, 
 
 By supernatural power, upward still : 
 
 And as the earth recedes, that look of love 
 
 Still brighter glows. — I see, I hear, I feel, 
 
 Yet nothing know save that pure radiance. — 
 
 Blot after blot, stain after stain, each speck 
 
 Of deadliest blackness, in the fervid gaze 
 
 Ever disappears. — Impure, I purer grow, 
 
 And night's dense darkness looked on by that sun 
 
 Blazes in noontide splendour. — Ye, who were 
 
 As suns to my o'erdazzled eyes, beam but now a 
 
 stars, 
 And yon all-purifying light concentrated 
 In me, streams forth upon you. — And yet ye smile. — 
 Ye envy not my glory. — Ye rejoice, 
 Ye joy in my rejoicing. — Loving once 
 An outcast reptile ; love, in increasing strength, 
 Increases upon its increase, as I exult 
 In the glad glory, and one halcyon cloud 
 Of effulgence bears us onward. — Brighter still, 
 And brighter, as the living chariot urges 
 It's breathless swiftness, in intensity, 
 As thousand times ten thousand earthly suns 
 Had, in one blaze, combined their fiercest strength 
 The keen ebullience deepens : — * * * * 
 
 Veiled by their wings. 
 
Their glittering crowns downcast, their amaranth 
 wreaths 
 
 Strewing the sapphire pavement, their joyous harps 
 
 Vocal with praise ; I hear the songs of angels, jubi- 
 lant ; 
 
 And hearing ****** 
 
 Foretaste of bliss : — 
 The yet unsatiated hope of joy, 
 The faith in my Redeemer's promises 
 Sustain me still ***** 
 
 Yes. I have seen, in faith, 
 The beatification of my hope. Henceforth I rest 
 In confidence assured : — The golden gate 
 Yet sways not on its hinge : the bars of light 
 Yet leap not from their hold : the flaming bolts 
 Yet start not from their sockets : the glad words 
 Yet have not filled all Heaven : echoing choirs 
 Yet have not raised the everlasting hymn 
 Of Moses and the Lamb : and the pure bride 
 Yet has not met the Bridegroom : — yet I rest 
 Sure in my hope and hopeful in my faith." 
 
 Patriarchs and martyrs, prophets priests and kings, 
 A goodliest multitude of goodliest form, 
 Each with his censer, each with golden harp 
 
 o2 
 
81 
 
 And each one gem of purest effluence 
 
 Fill the wide scene of gladness. Harp to voice 
 
 And voice to harp resonant, onward they sail 
 
 In holiest unison : one more denizen 
 
 Has Eden gained, and one more cup of joy 
 
 Is added to their happiness. All love, all peace, 
 
 All joy, all faith, all gladsome gratitude ; 
 
 One heart, one mind, one spirit ; all sufficed 
 
 And none redundant. — In such chair of state, 
 
 Such car of splendour erst the prophet rose 
 
 From Earth to Heaven, and angelic guards 
 
 So honoured, so acclaimed him, yet not with love, 
 
 More holy, more intense. 
 
 These to their rest 
 Soar on the blithsome ether ; those to earth 
 Again return ; yet, though disparted far 
 By realm on realm of space, the bond of truth 
 Still intervibrates, and the intellectual sight 
 Joys in each triumph hoped, each prize atchieved. 
 
 Reversed his sword of flame, 
 In placid majesty the star- girt guardian 
 Of Eden's portal sits; in his rejoicing charge 
 Rejoicing. 
 
 As the eager hosts pour through, 
 Stone unto column answering, hinge unto valve 
 Responsive, waking melody, emit 
 Subduing sweetness. The enjewelled sward, 
 
DEATH. 85 
 
 Trees stooping with rich odours, vocal flowers, 
 
 And birds whose thrilling melody the spheres 
 
 Listen to dwell on, with the angel hymn 
 
 Mingle glad melodies, and choral lays 
 
 Float through the ambrosial clouds, respondent all 
 
 In pleasure, and respondent all, 
 
 In palpitating gratitude, as, bending 
 
 At the lowliest altar of Eden, the newly arrived 
 
 Prostrate adores : while, not prostrate, her thoughts 
 
 Ascend beyond the ascents of earthly days, 
 
 And taste the foretaste of Elysium 
 
 From that pure sea of glory, where, supreme 
 
 In his own goodness, dwells the only One 
 
 All true, all holy. Thence he bends 
 
 Downward to Eden, his love-beaming eyes. 
 And in his inmost essence, feels a thrill 
 Of pleasure in his creature's happiness ; 
 And interchange of worship and attention 
 Blesses the giver, and the receivers of 
 Bliss erst by them unimagined. 
 
 Thus while they 
 Cloudless of sorrow, wait until the sum 
 Of happiest creatures is realised ; those on earth 
 In stupefaction sitting, gaze around 
 Where the grave has stretched her spoil, ghastlily 
 Smiling her bitter satisfaction; and around 
 Nought see but sad mementos. — There they sate 
 One leaning o'er her babe,— and, blest as earth 
 
86 DEATH. 
 
 Gives blessing, garrulous of hopes 
 
 And prospects in futurity, another 
 
 Lived o'er her former days ;— or, there they walked- 
 
 Or there, — and the full cup of happiness recurring 
 
 In exaggerated sweetness, nature sinks 
 
 At the humiliating contrast, and tears choke 
 
 The utterance of grief : — while, clasping close, 
 
 As clasp war-stricken men the slaying lance ; 
 
 Clasps the lone widower, his lone baby-boy, 
 
 Whose unsuspecting prattle recks not the woe 
 
 It causes in it's innocence : 
 
 Alas! 
 Poor shadows we, that in another's gain 
 Count our own loss. 
 
87 
 
 RETRIBUTION. 
 
 " Be thy will done. Creator and Sustainer 
 
 Of all Thy works. A speck obscure am I 
 
 In thy unbounded universe, where, orb on orb 
 
 Roll in their destined curvatures, fulfilling 
 
 Thy highest will, joyfully Thee acclaiming 
 
 In measures faultless, as, harmoniously, 
 
 Dimension, weight, nature, and orbit, exactly 
 
 Relate to each other. — Vast are all Thy works. 
 
 Superlatively wonderful, beyond 
 
 The ken of angels ; infinitely good, 
 
 In me in all ; herb, reptile, fish, bird, beast, 
 
 In man, highest of terrestrial beings, worst, far worst 
 
 Of all. Me hast thou charged 
 
 And I have borne him, for that it was Thy charge, 
 Stained though I am by his deeds of cruelty, 
 Rapine and bloodshed, fraud and violence, 
 
88 RETRIBUTION. 
 
 Filthy, and hateful, and degrading crime. 
 
 Yet am I, in myself, Thy glorious work, 
 
 Compacted of elements, each inscrutable, 
 
 Each, in itself, perfect. Thankfully to Thee 
 
 I render up a portion of my children, 
 
 Praise, bless, adore thee ; bow in homage down 
 
 Rejoicing in their happiness : submissively 
 
 Awaiting that dread summons, which will to the centre 
 
 Dispart, and from each inmost, dark recess 
 
 Where sin has stained me, as avengingly 
 
 Pluck out the secret fibres of offence. 
 
 Dissolution 
 Is to me as renewal, so that it be Thy will." 
 
 Thus, as with voice 
 Of clearest utterance, though voiceless, Earth 
 Complains against fallen man. 
 
 And he, whose charge 
 It is to wield nature's mightier elements, 
 In his high station musing, thus replies : 
 
 " No void shall ever be 
 In the vast universe : all, mystically, shall 
 To all eternity hymn forth His praise. 
 Hymning His praises, purified by fire, 
 Renewed good and glorious, in His works 
 Filling thy station, instrument of blessing 
 So shalt thou still exist. Ineffaceably 
 'T is written.— Day and night, 
 
RETRIBUTION. 89 
 
 Summer and winter, never yet have failed, 
 Nor shall the word e'er change. — 
 
 A thousand weeks 
 Here have I, in most anxious office, served, 
 Only sustained by His pervading power, 
 Pervading and sustaining all His works. — 
 Nations have changed, as fluctuating Avaters, 
 One risen, another fallen. Light, progressively 
 Has tinged each summit of the rolling mass, 
 Or awhile lived embosomed. — Evil, and good, 
 Sorely have exercised man's attribute, 
 Freedom of thought and action. — Of pure religion 
 True revelation came not to succeed 
 Corrupted tradition ; until his poor conjecture, 
 Futile and weak, unsatisfactory, 
 Unholy, infamous, had plunged him down 
 A chaos. — ■ Adoringly, 
 
 The holy purpose eagerly have I marked 
 Sailing, a lonely ark upon a deluge 
 Convulsed, dark, fathomless, impenetrable 
 To vision less than almighty. Rejoicingly 
 The gleaming beacon have I seen emerge, 
 Millions exulting in its brightness, millions 
 Amid the rude turmoil safe." 
 
 As ever-lapsing time 
 Still in his trackless swiftness, hastens onward 
 To the dread, eventful day ; and change after change, 
 
90 RETRIBUTION. 
 
 Woe after woe, have led the hearts of men, 
 Trembling in fearful expectancy, to watch 
 In terror for it's dawning, Angel hosts 
 Not less intently watch ; upon their guard 
 Never sleeping. — 
 
 Silent in his march, 
 The Angel of Destruction, discriminatingly, 
 Here one, and there another, ceaselessly 
 Summons : — and as the numbers thicker falling 
 By war, by plague, by famine, visit all 
 The nations with extreme perplexity, 
 Their Guardian Angels, the Destroyer . 
 Entreat. 
 
 THE ANGELS OF THE NATIONS. 
 
 " Reverse, reverse the avenging sword." 
 
 THE DESTROYING ANGEL. 
 
 " Holy Angels, keep your guard." 
 
 THE ANGELS OP THE NATIONS. 
 
 " We, intently looking, stand 
 Prompt to obey the mighty hand, 
 Which, even now, we clearly trace 
 
 Limiting the human race. 
 
 Mightier events we feebly see 
 In dark and dim futurity ; 
 But thou, endued with keener eye, 
 Canst read that deeper prophecy." 
 
RETRIBUTION. 91 
 
 THE DESTROYING ANGEL. 
 
 " Yet awhile, offence shall cease. 
 Yet awhile, a time of peace 
 Shall fill the awful, dreadful pause 
 In Retribution's certain laws. 
 
 THE ARCHANGEL OE THE NATIONS. 
 
 Back roll the clouds : intensely bright 
 
 Glow the bounds of infinite 
 
 And finite. — Read the mighty scroll.— 
 
 Through the living letters roll 
 
 Living fires ; fires to consume 
 
 The temple, shrine, and altar-tomb : 
 
 Living fires ; fires to devour 
 
 Each pigmy toil of human power. — 
 
 Fearfully through every line 
 
 See, careers each wondrous sign. — 
 
 Nearer, nearer , see they run. — 
 
 Blaze in lightnings " All is done." 
 
 THE DESTROYING ANGEL. 
 
 "TIME, WAS." 
 
9.2 RETRIBUTION. 
 
 Silence, — 
 A still, calm, clear, terrible silence, as it were, 
 
 audible 
 In it's very stillness, universal space 
 Holds in appalling thrall, — 
 
 Increasing in it's might, 
 As crashing thunders over thunders roll 
 Re-echoing ; the Archangel's pealing lip 
 Twice, and again, outcries 
 
 "Awake !" 
 
 Filling each interval 
 Eagerly-anxious, ministering spirits 
 Carol : 
 
 "Wake, oh wake. — Sisters of light, 
 Plume your wings, essay your flight ; 
 Heavenly love, in mercy bright, 
 Wakes you for ever to fresh delight." 
 
 "Awake !" 
 
 " Wake, oh wake. — The fetters are riven, 
 Glory and life for ever are given ; 
 Glory that gleams like the mystic seven, 
 Shrining the throne of the highest heaven. 
 
retribution. 93 
 
 " Awake ! " 
 
 " Wake, oh wake. — 'Tis a holy choir, 
 Honied sounds, and words of fire 
 Dwell in their lips : — the strain raise higher; 
 See the earthly forms respire, 
 
 Awake ! awake ! " 
 
 And from the yielding earth, 
 Eise, in their righteousness, resplendent forms, 
 Mortal, yet all but immortal. 
 
 In such a glorious harvest, where shall the reaper 
 Bind his first sheaf ? — 
 
 In silence, attentively 
 Listen to the awakening accents. — 
 
 the believer [arising from her 
 
 " Morning, opening her dewy eyelids, 
 Greets us with music, lovelier than e'er 
 Played round the harp-string, lingering ere it fled 
 The faery hand that waked it. Purest dews 
 Gleam brightly on the leaflets, glittering 
 In the glorious sun-beams. Orient gems of light 
 All-coloured, sparkle with ten thousand dyes 
 Of different temper. Balmiest fragrance 
 Drops from the zephyr's wing. Delightful Morning ; 
 So fresh, so healthful, so imbued with incense, 
 So light, so pure, from thy Creator's presence 
 
94 RETRIBUTION. 
 
 First didst thou bless the earth. 
 
 Awake, awake, 
 Awake, my love : awake, my little one ; 
 Baby, awake and gladden your mother's eyes. 
 Hark, hark, my love, my life : awake and hear 
 That rapturous measure. 'Tis as yet I dreamt 
 Of those fair valleys, where eternal youth, 
 Eternal infancy, unchanging looks, 
 Which, marked as aged, yet more aged grew not 
 In ages unnumbered, bade me fondly deem them 
 The abode of blessed spirits. — Hark ! " 
 
 THE SONG OF THE GUARDIAN ANGELS. 
 
 " Hail, hail, all hail !— The Day of Grace, 
 Wakes to life the human race, 
 Life that really ever lives : 
 Life that never, never ending, 
 Still with blessings, blessings blending. 
 Purest joy for ever gives." 
 
 The Believer. 
 
 " The ascending mist 
 Bears spiritual forms : the embodying air 
 Teems with effulgent imagery; ascending 
 All. — Such visions, and such winning harmony 
 
 Bewilder. Deceive me not ; 
 
 Oh, be not treacherous ; my doting eyes, 
 Swim not in tears. — My father, my mother 
 
RETRIBUTION. 95 
 
 Fresh from the bowers of Eden visit me. 
 Ethereal fragrance breathes around their forms 
 Gem-dropt are their aged tresses, light celestial 
 Mildly resplendent, attracts, yet dazzles not, 
 Mine eyes towards them. — Oh, awake, awake, 
 And thus restrain me not. — Life of my life, 
 If ever I was pleasing to thee, wake, my husband ; 
 Wake, wake, my child. 
 
 They awaken. — See, my mother, 
 Angelical their looks, in majesty 
 As first-created man; as Eve's best-born 
 When infancy first lisped, and the prattling tongue 
 The look interpreted. See, they welcome us, 
 They cheer us. — ***** 
 
 Unknown buoyancy 
 
 Lifts me Alas — alas, my mother ! 
 
 Ah me ! I have slept the death-sleep. 
 
 Light breaks upon me. — This eventful dream 
 
 Wakes in reality. — This awful place, 
 
 This gate of heaven, these splendent messengers, 
 
 'Though radiant with seraphic dignity, 
 
 'Though love, 'though kindness, beam in their eyes 
 
 of light 
 And play upon their lips — dreadfully 
 Announce the Day of final Retribution. 
 Alas, how unprepared to meet that Judge 
 Which knows the heart." 
 
 Amidst the gladdening scene, 
 
96 RETRIBUTION. 
 
 In desperate, unrecking malignity. 
 Demons to demons, imitative cries 
 Of spirits in torment utter. 
 
 THE BELIEVER. 
 
 " Ah me ! Alas, my brother. 
 It was a voice like his, but so unearthly 
 Is the moan of anguish wicked men uplift 
 Despairing upon the death-bed — 
 
 Another cry 
 As of one falling down a precipice — 
 A stifling shriek — the rushing wind 
 Displaced beneath him — the branches crash — 
 And the black, poisonous pool 
 Bubbles." 
 
 THE ASSAILING. 
 
 " Wail, wail, wail and howl, 
 The heart is dark, and the conscience foul." 
 
 THE BELIEVER. 
 
 " Ah me ! O King of Heaven, thou knowest 
 Mine inmost soul. Tremblingly hoping, 
 Ascending to thy presence, Saviour of Light, 
 Have mercy on my darkness." 
 
 THE FIENDS. 
 
 " Mercy shall sleep, and Justice severe, 
 Quail not. swerve not for woman's tear." 
 
 
RETRIBUTION. 97 
 
 THE GUARDIAN ANGEL. 
 
 " Cheer thee. Be cheered." 
 
 THE CHIEF FIEND. 
 
 " Fine minion, flee ; 
 Of the spoil and the prey deprive not me. 
 Though swiftly ye sail, 'tis a worthy prize, 
 And swiftly as ye shall my legion rise." 
 
 THE FIENDS. 
 
 " We pant, we toil, we strive in vain 
 The outskirt of heaven we never shall gain." 
 
 OTHER FIENDS. 
 
 " Envy, malice, revenge, and hate, 
 Give us but strength, we fear not defeat." 
 
 THE CHIEF FIEND. 
 
 " Beyond us they soar, but I scent the track 
 No sleuth-hound so sure at the wild slave's back. 
 Viewless — in mean disgraceful spite 
 He strives to blind us with arrowy light." 
 
 THE SONG OF THE GUARDIAN ANGELS. 
 
 Spirits, haste ye, haste to meet us ; 
 Angels, Cherubs, kindly greet us. 
 "We have watched o'er the charge we tended 
 Watched 'till the sleep-of-sleeps has ended. 
 
98 RETRIBUTION. 
 
 To the Believers. 
 
 Death might seize, hut death retains not, 
 Rest like your's the spirit pains not, 
 Brighter rise ye, fairer, clearer, 
 Beloved of Heaven, than Angels dearer. 
 
 We ne'er sinned, ye, sin despising, 
 Greatly o'er the assail are rising; 
 Cleansed in Him, whose love prevailing 
 "Wept away his creatures' failing. 
 
 Honour, praise, revere, adore him, 
 See forms of glory hovering o'er him, 
 See angels, veiled, before him bending ; 
 Hark ! they the crystal vault are rending 
 with Allellujahs." 
 
 Everlasting glories 
 Pour seas of light from the dazzling gates of heaven 
 Myriads of spirits, resting in blessedness, 
 As in an amphitheatre ranged round, 
 Look down in eagerness, as the ascending train 
 Verge on the threshold steps. 
 
 Before the Lamb, 
 Angel, Archangel, Seraph, Cherub, Power, 
 
 
RETRIBUTION. 
 
 99 
 
 Dominion, Principality, and Throne j 
 Mysterious essences, inconceivable 
 By finite intelligence, irradiate 
 All inferior splendours. 
 
 Nor word is known, 
 Nor terms descriptive yet have been devised 
 Faintly expressive of that central light, 
 Before which, light itself is dark, impure, 
 Vile, outcast. 
 
 At the uttermost limit 
 Of the thronged auditory : — the anxious gaze 
 Of angels and of men : — single — unstayed, 
 And aidless of all aid, save Heaven's, the suppliant 
 Tor pardon pleads. 
 
 THE BELIEVER AT THE BAR OF JUDGMENT 
 
 " Penitent, 
 Deeply repentant of my secret crimes 
 Of thought, word, deed ; hateful, vast, numberless 
 At this awful bar, I bow, 
 Submissive to thy sentence. — Be thy grace, 
 
 From the Holiest light, 
 Vividest effluence, shrine impenetrable 
 
 h 2 
 
100 RETRIBUTION. 
 
 By created vision ; calmly audible 
 
 The fearful question thrills through shrinking space, 
 
 " WHO WILL REDEEM V 
 
 And One, whose form is as a Son of Man, 
 
 Yet, so exalted, so surpassing all 
 
 The forms of men created, that blasphemous 
 
 Words were to trace his holy lineaments : 
 
 As man, as God, as brother, as Creator, 
 
 All-perfect in his mediatorial character, 
 
 With his merit shields her ; and with looks of love, 
 
 Of pity, and of mercy, as the Atoning Victim, 
 
 Places himself between her and destruction. 
 
 From that obscurest depth, 
 Where Earth, in dizzy distance, wheels her round, 
 Toiling, the A censing- Spirits climb their way, 
 Thus far allowed. — Retreating from the gaze, 
 Hang back the meaner crew; but, he whose tempting 
 First allured them from their fealty, still first, 
 By his false sense of honour, and contempt 
 Of danger, onward led; atrociously 
 To his rebellion adds insult. 
 
 Satan. 
 
 " Redeem her?— Who? 
 Is she not mine ?- — A worthiest company, 
 
RETRIBUTION. 101 
 
 Greater and fairer, kings, queens, and princes, 
 Who ruled and lived as spirits of superior mould : 
 Kings in their own right, mighty, master-minds, 
 Throned by their own atchievements, as on my throne, 
 Await this companion. — Am I thus bound to toil 
 Upward, despite of my nature, for that thou pleadest 
 A few weak wounds and bruises ? Have not I 
 Wounds, bruises, tortures? Have not I that which 
 
 poor 
 Effeminate wretches call, my glorious penalty 
 Of glorious greatness ?" 
 
 Scoffingly, so speaks he, 
 Sidelong in look, in proud, contemptuous tone, 
 Daunted, yet daring ; to the Guardian Spirit. 
 
 No higher yet attempts 
 His quailing eye to glance. 
 
 Mildly reproving him, 
 The Guardian Spirit replies. 
 
 " Him, less than the Highest, 
 Yet with the Highest equal, thus permits thee 
 In his forbearance. Knoweth none more than thou 
 The strength of his anger." 
 
 Satan. 
 
 " Nor none less than thou 
 His justice. Only less than the highest, or equal 
 As of right were mine ; in essence superior 
 
102 RETRIBUTION. 
 
 As more enduring. Flatteries and ease 
 To worthiest minds are charmless." 
 
 Collecting 
 Like a determined criminal, every drop 
 Of blood malignant, for a reproachful lie 
 Rejoins he. — Forbearing, as she sees 
 Forbearance best, aside the Guardian Spirit 
 Attentively stands. 
 
 Satan. 
 
 " Me strive not to defraud 
 By innocent look, eye downcast, tricking tear, 
 Or reverential grovelling. Affection and outside pro- 
 priety, 
 Connubial, filial, and parental love, 
 Bar not my plea : the very birds and beasts 
 Had these. These are not such perfections 
 As you to man attribute. Nought care I 
 For such a flimsy triumph, but to expose 
 Your hollow justice strive. — Left in the contest 
 What had ensued, if unaided ? — Prate not I 
 Of loosest thought, pride, or idolatry 
 Of her fair person, of pompous charity, 
 Hags, paintings, patchings of external virtues : 
 These pass I, lightly, as for my accusation 
 Too despicable. — Amongst my host 
 
 Held but one back, from the strife of glorious deeds, 
 Disgrace, derision, vilest ignominy 
 Were his, for ever. Such is my even justice. — - 
 
RETRIBUTION. 103 
 
 Foremost stood she, the type, the ideal exemplar 
 
 Of perfect Christian virtues, fervently 
 
 In heart and deed devoted, ever- striving, 
 
 Aye, ceasing never, his deeds to pourtray 
 
 On earth, who here sits Judge. Here was no pride ? 
 
 And by such flattery, sits unwarped her Judge ? — 
 
 So, vauntingly in the van forestationed, 
 
 This was her duty, and she failed herein 
 
 As a very braggart. — When the covert glance, 
 
 And alluring smile, drew incense to her beauty, 
 
 And in her toils a willing captive enthralled : 
 
 One, aye superior, in estate, wit, person 
 
 To the common herd of fools ; on idle pretence 
 
 Of his irreligion, she closed scoffingly 
 
 Affection's gates, and, aye, exulting in 
 
 The triumph of the worm's foul banquet^ 
 
 "Wept falsed tears. — She forsook the fight, 
 
 When, were her Maker loved, body, soul, all, 
 
 Were but meet sacrifice another to rescue 
 
 From The Opponent. — Did not he you laud 
 
 So act, so die ? — But forsooth, was he 
 
 Corrupt, licentious, as her uncharitable imagination 
 
 Had pictured him ; and the too susceptible. 
 
 Warm trust of the heart-strings, was to be rudely 
 
 Upon such pretence as this ! — Nay, minion, nay.- 
 We plead before a Judge, who must need be just 
 Or adjudicate no longer. Unjust be he, 
 All be his equals." 
 
104 RETRIBUTION. 
 
 With noble scorn, 
 Such as possesses one, who assuredly knows 
 His adversary consciously conceals 
 Portions of truth, and on a garbled fact 
 Grounds accusation : repelling the attempt, 
 Answers the Guardian Angel. 
 
 " Were not assembled hosts 
 Of finite intelligences, hither called from immensity's 
 Most distant orbs, to witness the assay 
 Of Man, and the proof of his Maker's benignity, 
 Waste were my words : for thou, and such as I 
 Know motives, treasure up thoughts ; and the dread 
 
 Judge, 
 Needs not thy accusation, nor my testimony. — 
 Beneath his vengeance, less than our regard, 
 Are thy taunts, Satan. — Degenerated, and 
 Degenerateable still to all eternity, 
 Less and still less, eternally, shalt thou resemble 
 Thyself in thy former brightness, when, sun-dia- 
 
 -demed, 
 In foulest rebellion, thou the third of heaven 
 Round apostate ensigns drewest. 
 
 Hear ye, O Men ! 
 And hear ye. Angels ! as I testify 
 In the immediate presence of my Maker, 
 And by his grace sustained, how steadily, 
 In her own strength not trusting, still she clung to, 
 And still assistance prayed from Him, whom to be- 
 seech 
 
RETRTBUTIOX. 105 
 
 Is to propitiate. — Worn, and vexed with toiling 
 
 Against the rude surge of adversity. 
 
 And by the world's temptations sorely beset, 
 
 Yet still amidst their pressure, did she strive 
 
 Others to save from danger, other to arm 
 
 Against temptation, others to fortify 
 
 Against impending trial, others to cherish 
 
 Who well nigh had sunk down, and others to raise 
 
 Whom deceivers had subdued. And, yes, she strove 
 
 As with Almighty fervour, to disenslave 
 
 Satan's firm-bounden thralls. — Witness around me, 
 
 ye, 
 
 Who, as my fellow-watchers, warded off 
 
 111 from the sainted head ; who treasured up 
 
 The pure out-pouring of the grateful heart, 
 
 And registered in heaven's archives, deeds 
 
 Which Heaven loves to read. — Unfearingly, 
 
 I here appeal to the true registry 
 
 Of death, of life. — Trace on it's burthened page, 
 
 Crimes, errors, written in tears : but — yes, my friends, 
 
 Exulting, here, upon this ampler scope, 
 
 See virtues graven in characters of light : 
 
 And, witness at it's end, a signature 
 
 Of love, of faith in His redeeming love, 
 
 Through whom the universe, in all it's beauty, 
 
 In all it's majesty, in all it's immensity, 
 
 And perfectness exists." 
 
 The Believer. 
 
 " In all thy deeds, 
 
106 RETRIBUTION. 
 
 Holy and just art thou. Thy will be done. 
 
 Incomprehensibly, 
 Transcending all that seraphic intellect 
 In it's sublimest musing, could, incipiently, 
 Conceive of self-humiliation ; once, upon earth, 
 As but a man, yet perfect in purity ; 
 He knew our sorrows, wept our bitter tears, 
 Felt our keen anguish, shared our misery, 
 And tasted of our death-cup, and wrung out 
 The dregs of shame from the grave, illumining 
 With glory the vale of death. 
 
 Mysteriously 
 God became Man. Far more mysteriously, 
 That man, as God of all, above all height 
 Beyond all thought, in supremest majesty 
 Judging his fellow men, in mercy restrains 
 The intensity of his love ; and, 'though that love 
 Yearns as a mother's, who her long-lost child 
 Sees, blainless, from some lazar issuing, 
 He looks around : 
 
 The sun, in mightiest strength, 
 Leaping from the torrid wave, throws, flashing o'er 
 Each mountain summit, his awakening glow 
 While plains lie wrapped in night : so lucidly, 
 Amidst surrounding space, assembled worlds 
 Of throbbingly attentive spirits rejoice 
 In the divine effulgence : — 
 
 Low, he looks 
 
RETRIBUTION. 107 
 
 Where, outstretched upon heaven's pavement, lies 
 
 his creature 
 Submissive in her hope, and in her fear 
 Submissive : — 
 
 Where angelic eyes beheld 
 A form of earth, in earthly vestiture 
 Stands an immortal Seraph. — Angel-eyes 
 Glitter through grateful tears ; and angel-lips 
 Dwell on her adoration. 
 
 THE WORSHIP OF THE REDEEMED CHRISTIAN. 
 
 " Holy, Holy, Holy, 
 Thou art holy. 
 In Thee renewed, even in this purity, 
 A wonder of angels, a new-born child of heaven ; 
 Thy work, thy gracious work;— beneath thy mercy, 
 Less than the least of thy perfections, prostrate 
 I praise, I worship, I adore Thee. 
 Holy, Holy, Holy, 
 Thou art holy." 
 
 When, from the cloud, 
 The indignant Angel of the Covenant 
 In wrath looked down, and an invisible power 
 Brake Egypt's chariot wheel, and host confused 
 Stumbled o'er host confused, as the last foot 
 Stepped from the ocean-bed, and the dry ground 
 Received it : so now, a choral shout 
 
108 RETRIBUTION. 
 
 From all heaven's blissful legions triumphing, 
 Ascends.— 
 
 THE HYMN OF THE ANGELIC HOST. 
 
 "Worthy, 
 Worthy art thou, 
 Worthy art thou, Redeeming Lamb ! to receive 
 Power, and honour, and glory. 
 
 Worthy art thou, 
 Worthy art thou, for evermore to bear, 
 Supremest dominion. 
 
 Worthy art thou, 
 Worthy art thou, for evermore to reign, 
 God over all, 
 For ever." 
 
 Silent the acclaim : — in far inferior strains, 
 Strains to yet-infant intellect adapted 
 Greet the blest spirits, their Sister. 
 
 THE GREETING BY THE BLESSED SPIRITS. 
 
 " Evermore in honour seated, 
 Evermore by angels greeted, 
 Glorious, sister spirit, hail. 
 
/ 
 
 RETRIBUTION. 109 
 
 Bright, in virtue rising higher, 
 
 Glow thy intellectual fire, 
 
 Cleansed from earth's concealing veil. 
 
 Blessing, honour, glory, power, 
 Welcome this thy natal hour 
 Natal hour of endless day : 
 Ever flowing, still unceasing, 
 Mercy, mercies still increasing, 
 Life no more shall pass away. 
 
 Active virtue still prevailing, 
 
 On some gracious mission sailing, 
 
 We with thee shall ever raise ; 
 
 Songs of triumph, strains of pleasure, 
 
 Love the theme, blest love the measure, 
 
 Love be our's, be His the praise." 
 
 Ascending in her strength 
 Amid all brightness, brilliantly distinct 
 She greets their congratulation. 
 
 THE REDEEMED BELIEVER S SONG. 
 
 '•' Blissful visions, joys ecstatic, 
 Meet my eye, salute my ear ; 
 Saints in glory, spirits seraphic, 
 Hail my birth, prepare my sphere. 
 
110 RETRIBUTION. 
 
 Songs melodious, sounds celestial, 
 Streams of pleasure, gems of light, 
 Bowers of wisdom, realms of wonder, 
 Heightless, depthless, infinite, 
 All hail me. 
 
 Hail ye, hail ye, Spirits fair : 
 Hail ye, hail ye, Sisters dear : 
 Hail ye, hail ye, Friends, 
 
 For ever, 
 
 All hail \» 
 
 Enduring, as endure the envious, 
 With blanched cheek, and brow enforced to lour 
 Over the unsteady eyeball, mutteringly echoes, 
 In despite, the Accusing Spirit, melody 
 Which tortures. 
 
 As the exultation 
 Sinks in repose, and distant murmuring, 
 As of village bells at even, kisses the ear 
 With soothing undulation : aloud he cries, 
 Raising his scathed countenance in scorn, 
 And bitter mockery : 
 
 " This, this ye call 
 Unswerving justice. — Lately escaped 
 Or hoping to escape ; this host, subservient 
 Through fear, not love ; with taunts injuriously 
 
RETRIBUTION. Ill 
 
 Think to annoy me, and to wound a spirit 
 Ever unimpressible, above sensation, one 
 Who calmly bears, and smiles contemptuously 
 At the million's contumely. Such millions hate 
 Despises, as I hate Him, close-entrenched in light 
 To all inaccessible. — A prouder throne 
 
 Accessible to all, I proudly fill ; 
 Shrined in the hearts, firm-rooted in the affections 
 Of spirits, each the weakliest, mightier 
 In intellect and daring, than the highest here 
 Who thinks he blazes. — Hear ye, and blush. 
 There look. — There they, in proof of my truth, 
 Bear willingly a willing subject, dimming 
 Your gorgeous pageantry, and veiling eyes 
 Star-born with tears effeminate." 
 
 Back, audaciously 
 Summoning up his latest power to chide 
 The Being he blasphemes, e're the tremendous, 
 Huge bolts of Hell pen him and his crew accursed ; 
 As, o'er a war-scooped chasm, some dark tower 
 Although tottering, from it's ruined battlement 
 Launches vindictive fires ; so, on vacuity's 
 Quick-crumbling edge, gloomy, vast, and appalling 
 Leans the Arch-Rebel, stubbornly repressing 
 Care, rankling-thought, and pain, hourly that marr 
 More that original brightness, which, when above 
 
 them far, 
 And seated near to the Highest, angels witnessed, 
 And in his joy rejoiced. 
 
112 RETRIBUTION. 
 
 Yet, gnaw his vitals 
 Shame for malignity, and deadliest fear 
 Of torment, pertinaciously intituled 
 Glory and honour, 'though for that sceptre's weight 
 No one would stoop ; 'though envying, none would 
 share. 
 
 Explosions, stunning 
 The curdling senses, sounds unutterably 
 Chilling, subduing Nature's faculties, 
 Locking the senses, paralysing all 
 In stupefying horror : in one wild 
 Continuous upwhirl, break into nothingness 
 Earth, Sea, and Air : — 
 
 Amidst the tempestuous fray 
 Fiends, in mad uproar yelling, incumbent rocks 
 Livid with foetid sulphur, hurl on high 
 Baring death's dreadful, secret prison-house 
 To the fiery concave ; here, ebullient 
 With seven-fold furnace heat ; here, lurid, wan, 
 Blood-stained, appalling : there, hoarsely roaring 
 Like fierce Trolhaetta's headlong water-rush, 
 'Whelming the lone canoe- borne wanderer 
 Caught in it's boiling eddy. 
 
 Hurtling hail 
 Of scalding embers, snow of torrid flame, 
 
RETRIBUTION. 113 
 
 Spouts of bitumen, hellish fires, exceeding 
 All that the cruelty-nursed mind conceives, 
 Incessantly falling. 
 
 Death's noisome, mantling pool, 
 Scaffold and Gibbet : Couch of luxury : 
 Prison and Pesthouse : and the Gilded tomb, 
 Mocking at death, o'er the rottenness within 
 Grinning, pour forth their draff. 
 
 SONG OF THE DEMONS. 
 
 1 This is the grave ; I quaffed it's steam 
 Blotting the wan moon's sickly beam : 
 The clotting gore, and the clammy dew, 
 Stank and steamed on the baleful yew. 
 
 It whined, it moaned : the finger and thumb 
 Clutched the wind-pipe ; the dead was dumb : 
 Darkness, in terror, darker grew ; 
 Silence shall bear me witness true. 
 
 Grin ye, and glare ye. Hark ! I hear 
 The infidel curse, and the Atheist swear. — ■ 
 Curse they bravely, and swear they well ; 
 There is no God in the depths of hell. 
 
 There I, and I, and I, and I, 
 
 Sail on the moan, and ride on the cry : 
 
114 RETRIBUTION. 
 
 Wailing our car, and the shriek our steed, 
 Anguish and torture wing our speed. 
 But hark, but hark ! — Now hang we aloof, 
 We hung the warp, but he shot the woof : 
 "lis in deadly record the tissue we twine 
 When man stains with blood the venomous line/ 
 
 the apostate. Leaping from his grave. 
 
 " Wine, — pour, pour more wine. — 
 Drink deep in Lethe. — Curse upon the cup, 
 And ye, mad harlots, why scream ye ?" 
 
 VICIOUS FEMALES. 
 
 " Rocks, mountains, . 
 Fall upon and bury us \" 
 
 AN EMACIATED FEMALE BEARING A FROZEN CHILD. 
 
 " Be righteous, Heaven. 
 Though I must fall : Oh, spare not, spare not 
 My vile seducer. Spare not him whose oath 
 Bobbed me of virtue, and to the bitterest woe 
 Of starving penury, in my extremity 
 Outcast me. — Bevelling, surfeiting, 
 Wallowing, while I, to the biting air, 
 Uncanopied by aught but the rude storm 
 That howled my obsequies, brought forth my shame, 
 
RETRIBUTION. 115 
 
 And in death cradled it. — My baby boy, 
 
 Hold up to heaven, thy injured, innocent hand, 
 
 And thy progenit6r, curse." 
 
 THE FIENDS SIEZE HIM. 
 THE APOSTATE,; 
 
 " Unhand me ! Demon if thou art 
 Unhand me ! I am thy master-spirit still. 
 Loathed wretches ! Grin ye as ye will, 
 Point at me, hoot me, yell, sputter, gibber, 
 Mock me. — Off wretches ! I am greater than ye all 
 And in this turmoil but a momentary thrill 
 Endure." 
 
 THE FIENDS. 
 
 " Upward, upward." 
 
 THE APOSTATE. 
 
 " I stir not." 
 
 THE FIENDS. 
 
 " Then we drag you, spoil and prey 
 Of HelFs dread arbiter." 
 
 THE EXULTATION OF THE DEMONS. 
 
 " Drag we, drag we the weary load, 
 
 'Tis a long, long way to the bright abode : 
 
 Goad we, goad we the victim on, — 
 
 He quicker will fall to the burning throne 
 
 Ha-ha, ha-ha ! 
 i2 
 
116 RETRIBUTION. 
 
 The groan, and the gasp, and the shriek, and the sigh 
 Give us firm wings to bear us on high : 
 The smeared knife, and the crimsoned pall, 
 And the putrid brains on the dungeon wall. 
 Drag we, drag we the weary load, 
 'Tis a long, long way to the bright abode : 
 Goad we, goad we the victim on, — 
 He quicker will fall to the burning throne. 
 
 Ha-ha, ha-ha ! 
 
 The oath, and the curse, and the evil wish, 
 The smile, and the vow, and the seasoned dish : 
 The philtre, the ring, and the priest, straw -built, 
 A.nd the triumphing grin of consummated guilt. 
 Drag we, drag we the weary load, 
 'Tis a long, long way to the bright abode : 
 Goad we, goad we the victim on, — 
 He quicker will fall to the burning throne. 
 
 Ha-ha ! ha-ha ! 
 
 The chalice despoiled, and the temple stained, 
 The oath of the altar and shrine profaned ; 
 The Book of Heaven in grave-dust trod, 
 And the curse denying the being of God. 
 Drag we no more, the storm is strong, 
 Hot are the steams that impel us along ; 
 Tempest and whirlwind are zephyred air 
 To the cry of revenge, and the shriek of despair. 
 
 Ha-ha ! ha-ha V 
 
RETRIBUTION. 117 
 
 In the foul triumph, triumphing, the Arch Fiend, 
 Thus taunts the Apostate's guardian. 
 
 Satan. 
 
 " Aye, minion, aye. 
 Veil up that golden frontlet, and with eyes 
 Suffused, bend down. — At the high arbitrement 
 Of him, who in the loathing air was held 
 Of heaven and earth unworthy, yet who dare not 
 Gainsay me ; shame-melted, unwatchful spirit, 
 My subject do I claim. — Mutely dost thou stand? 
 So stood not I, when, in despite, perforce 
 His sister was unrighteously borne off 
 To stall and stable with ye." — 
 
 " Upward rise, 
 Minutes and hours : — day, weeks, years, ascend 
 And on your shadowy volumes bear along 
 The imperishable record." — 
 
 Prom the dun, obscure, fleet by 
 The now-unforgotten moments, each on her disc 
 Pourtraying crimes, pourtraying pleasures, 
 Pourtraying miseries : — and, as if the thunder-peal 
 Of a reproaching conscience were not loud 
 Enough to startle hell, the bitter Accuser 
 Gives to each his bitter commentary. 
 
118 RETRIBUTION. 
 
 " Upon that orb 
 Mark the mad pleasure of the midnight swill, 
 And rank debauch. Estates and families 
 Staked on a die ; and ruin, gaunt as death, 
 Whelming whole villages. 
 
 On that twin-circlet see 
 Stretched on the bullioned couch, whose regalry 
 Mocks the foul form which fills it ; he, who, trembling 
 At the last death-gasp, and as a coward cursed, 
 Died praying amidst your scoffs. 
 
 There, there, behold 
 My army. Mine in riot revelry, 
 Quaffing the dank dew of the filthy forms 
 Which greeted the sun's uprising. 
 
 There, I see 
 And, seeing I exult. There, ruin made 
 One kingly swoop. There, in that prison-house, 
 Yoked to disease, fast-linked to certain death, 
 On the straw-matted floor, that creditor 
 Whose unrequited labour, gnawed the sinew, 
 And fretted up the nerve, sits motionless, 
 While famine fevers mother, wife, and child. — 
 Upon it's reverse, see the proffered gold 
 Of the rich debtor, striving to allure 
 His daughter.— These are triumphs, these 
 All praise o'erpass. 
 
 And yonder, — there I see 
 Mortgage, and sale, and pledge, and legal art, 
 Burn trees, waste acres, crumble palaces, 
 Strip from progenitors their pittances, 
 
&ETRIBUTI0N. 119 
 
 Pillage the sister of her marriage-gold, 
 And on the dice-turn nobly stake it all, 
 And lose it all, as nobly. 
 
 Oh, to read 
 These quickly-wheeling shadows, substanced, 
 Moulded of fleeting nothing into books 
 Of veriest record, would beguile us of 
 Whole lives of transport. 
 
 Sober-pacing age 
 Has gently grieslied the front-bald head, 
 And the lank limbs stretch on the listless couch, 
 And the hard-griping, gay voluptuary, 
 Husbands his gold, and pleasures : preying there 
 Where he was preyed on, and exchanging freaks 
 Of youth, for manlier virtues, manlier thoughts, 
 And systematized conduct. In the world, 
 That censurer unkind, considerately 
 Bowing to laws and customs, walking staidly, 
 And treasuring indulgence for his few 
 Compeers most trusted. 
 
 Such consummate worth 
 Bears fruit commensurate : Behold thy Son." 
 
 THE APOSTATE 
 
 " Who, who, who ? 
 Sounds like to mine ! — that vile, demoniac look 
 As mine, degraded." 
 
 Satan. 
 
 "Worthiest among worthiest deeds 
 
120 RETRIBUTION. 
 
 Was this achievement : not strengthening me 
 By units but armies pouring into my ranks, 
 Age after age. 
 
 And there, behold thy wife. 
 Attenuated sylph-like by thy kindness." 
 
 THE APOSTATE. 
 
 " Alas, alas, my wife ! 
 Of fortune despoiled, by sophistry deprived 
 Of her father's faith, and by these hands out-turned 
 
 To beggary. There, there my sister bends 
 
 O'er the poor wanderer, smooths down her couch, 
 Pillows her weary head, and pouring balm 
 And oil into her wounds, draws light and life 
 From on high to the sinner's death bed. — 
 
 Woe, woe, woe ! 
 To me unutterable ; eternal woe ! 
 There raves my child ! — torn, from his mother torn 
 And by me — left^no — not only left 
 A prey, but by me plunged into depths, 
 Drearily horrible. 
 
 Woe, woe ! — Alas ! 
 What scenes of terror pour incessantly 
 Upon the accusing moments ! — Poverty — 
 Wretchedness— crime — within the dungeon pent — » 
 Dying in lazars — on the gibbet hanging 
 For crows and vultures — with diseases pining 
 Poisoned — slain — drown ed — 
 
 Oh, direst agony ! 
 That these, from these polluted loins sprang forth, 
 
RETRIBUTION. 121 
 
 And living, lived accursed, died accursed, 
 And thus rise up ! — 
 
 But — I know not these — - 
 These were not mine. — Upon that river's brink 
 I strewed not putrid, starving carcases — 
 That land with misery I did not fill — 
 I did not burn those cities — I bound not, 
 I crammed not in that pestilential hold 
 My fellows. — In yon yawning wave 
 
 I whelmed them not — 
 
 There, there, — 
 Fresh miseries rise — hide, hide me ! — Wrath on 
 wrath !"— 
 
 Satan (to the Guardian Angel.) 
 
 " Fine minion, dimly 
 Thy glories vanish. Set upon such guard 
 Why slept thou?" 
 
 Veiling o'er her forehead 
 Wings, dropt with azure, lowlily bows down 
 The Guarding Spirit, worshipping : 
 
 " Thou, my Creator ! Thou, 
 Preserver of all good : — only enduring 
 Evil to show forth thy justice : — knowest thou 
 As knowing all, how sedulously hope 
 Was cherished in me : how still I clave to, 
 Still watched, unweariedly, to baffle the arts 
 
122 RETRIBUTION. 
 
 Beneath which he fell ; avoiding not my charge 
 'Till, in dread moment, throwing off thy fear, 
 Thee he defied." 
 
 With deadliest despair 
 Sore-smitten : o'er the ashy-hued cheek, 
 Paleness, quick-varies into paler hues. 
 Upon the burning orbit, glazing films, 
 Into their sockets bind, the else-starting 
 And livid eyeballs : and in the furred mouth 
 The parched tongue, inarticulately, 
 Rattles, as, slowly moving, with involuntary 
 But irresistible impulse round, the Apostate sees 
 In ever-living radiance, spirits pure 
 (Shorn of their lustre now) in pitying tears 
 Bewailing ; and amongst them, marked 
 By deeper shades of sadness, parents, and sister, 
 And them-rescued victims, bending, as though their 
 
 knees 
 Grew to the crystal pavement. 
 
 " Hide," he cries, 
 " Hell, hide me : Hide me in thy inmost tortures ! 
 Hide me from His benevolent aspect 
 Whose goodness is, torment intolerable." — 
 
 Down he plunges, — laughter horrible, 
 And shouts of derision following. 
 
EETRIBXJTION. 123 
 
 Gazing transfixedly, 
 All eye, all ear, o'er the dark, viewless strand, 
 Kinsmen hear kinsmen struggling, and the gloomy 
 Storm-Spirit echoes, through the moaning surge, 
 The expiring mariner's gasp. 
 
 More awful than their lone wailing ; 
 More infinitely sad, complaining more mournfully, 
 More utterly desolate in their cadences, deep throbs 
 Of sorrow gush amid the lament. 
 
 THE LAMENTATION OF THE ANGELS. 
 
 ft "Worthy, worthy to have been, 
 Our friend, our companion, 
 Firmly hadst thou stood 
 Trusting in Him, 
 Who, sitting beyond the ken 
 Of angel eyes, 
 Glows in ineffable glory, 
 Yet scorns not 
 To dwell in virtue's bosom ; 
 
 How art thou fallen ! 
 
 Goodliest in human form 
 And mental majesty ; 
 In knowledge, dazzlingly 
 Resplendent : 
 Yet, in mad despite, 
 Each perfect gift, 
 
124 RETRIBUTION. 
 
 Each heaven-proffered virtue, 
 Fatally scorning ; 
 Far beneath the vilest 
 
 How art thou fallen ! 
 
 Sunken irremediably 
 
 In wretchedness unending ; 
 
 Outcast, abandoned, 
 
 Ever, ever lost : 
 
 O'er thee unavailingly 
 
 Drop pitying tears. 
 
 Eeveringly we adore 
 
 His justice unswerving, 
 
 Yet weep thy final doom : 
 
 O, Son of Lucifer, 
 How art thou fallen \" 
 
 Satan, 
 
 " Millions, 
 Millions of these are mine ; beyond thy grasp 
 Thou Highest [" 
 
 But the impious exultation 
 Dies on his lip. — Withering beneath the keen 
 Avenging glare ; like the tumultuous wreck 
 Of lightning-riven mountains : swiftly, as 'fleetest swift- 
 ness 
 Were trembling hesitation to such flight : 
 Down, into interminable depths, 
 For ever, 
 He falls. 
 
125 
 
 THE RENOVA TI O N 
 OF THE EARTH. 
 
 An emanation, 
 As 'it were a look benign, wherein 
 Compassion, mercy, and love, hold kindliest strife 
 For noblest mastery ; from that bright point, 
 That centre, whence unnumbered radiations 
 Would embrace the boundary, could boundary be 
 Of infinite; pervading the awful chaos 
 Of uttermost ruin, from impalpable 
 Untraceable nothingness, with power beyond 
 The utmost stretch of created intellect 
 To conceive it's slightest effort ; beneficently 
 The void refills. 
 
 Forms of embodied light, 
 Seraph tmd cherub, angel, mortal mind 
 
126 THE RENOVATION. 
 
 Now shrined in immortality, o'erhanging, 
 Intently gaze, as the stupendous work 
 Re-rises into existence. 
 
 Sweeping round 
 From the obscure centre, vast tracts of substances 
 Rock, earth, or metal, up to the dewy dawn 
 In goodliest order emerge. In radiation, 
 Rear up majestic mountains their fair foreheads, 
 Collecting from the immensity of pure, 
 Elastic fluid, fertilizing treasures, 
 And, with benevolent pleasure, pouring down 
 In rill, and cataract, and refluent flood, 
 Plenty and blessing, over swelling hill 
 Wide spread champain, and undulating down. 
 In glad moeander idle they to enjoy 
 The faery pasture ; and in their lucid mirrors 
 Paint visioned forms of ever-varying flowers, 
 Enamelling their margents ; of verdant forests 
 Hung with all fruits adapted to gratify 
 Immortal senses ; and cerulean hues 
 Of hills at ethereal distance, sleeping in the calmness 
 Of heaven's enjoyment. Linger they amid such bliss, 
 Or gladly hasten down descending curves 
 Deep-dyed with pebbles of all lustrous hues 
 Out-vying gems of purest effluence : 
 Or, murmuring, responsive to awakening echoes 
 In the dim hollows of dim rocks, o'erpending 
 To view their ample frontlets in the clear waves 
 Where innocence and mirth, with joyous urns 
 
THE RENOVATION. 127 
 
 Swell the swift eddy, on the bubble ride^ 
 
 Or lave their blithe limbs in a purer joy 
 
 Than earlier nature knew. In Ocean's wide, 
 
 Capacious universe, where wonders wonder-enlinked 
 
 In hollow orisons, lift up their voices 
 
 To praise and to adore ; the gambolling floods 
 
 Dash deeply in enjoyment, carolling 
 
 Amidst the wild, melodious rush. Lithe forms, 
 
 Where beauty fitliest sits, enthroned in adaptation 
 
 For fullest happiness, the transparent deep 
 
 Shoot through in frolic joyance, tasting fruits . 
 
 Of liquid amber. Coral and coralline, 
 
 And sapphire rocks, and orient shells effulgent, 
 
 And pearly sand, and gems of glittering light, 
 
 And treasures of rich treasures, pave a path 
 
 Where wisdom, youth, and innocence, may rove 
 
 Eternally rejoicing, eternally 
 
 Collecting food for praise. O'er hill and dale, 
 
 Deep valley, craggy mount, where Iris strains 
 
 Her curtains ; o'er arid, or moistened plain, 
 
 Each in it's order, each contributing 
 
 To swell the universal harmony, 
 
 Bird, beast, and reptile revel. Peace and love, 
 
 Mutually assisted, mutually gratified, 
 
 Hang on each other's looks, or sleep in bland, 
 
 Confiding pleasure. Every inanimate, 
 
 And animated creature, each in itself 
 
 Consummately perfect, each in due gradation 
 
 Advancing towards the Unutterable Perfection, 
 
 Each manifesting power, wisdom, and love ; 
 
128 THE RENOVATION. 
 
 In ever-rising chorus, note from note 
 Distinctly audible, yet mingling in one rich 
 O'erpowering burst of gratitude, awake 
 A correspondent gratitude in all 
 The unbounded infinite.— 
 
 THE SONG OF THE MORNING-STARS. 
 
 " Momentary was the pause, 
 Everlasting are our laws. 
 
 In thy destined course revolving, 
 Every shading mist dissolving, 
 Sparkling in the noon-tide beam, 
 Gem of Heaven's diadem, 
 Roll, roll on, thou lovely orb. 
 Momentary was the pause, 
 Everlasting are our laws. 
 
 Embellishing the azure night 
 Glows thy renovated light ; 
 Twining in continuous zone 
 Beams thy tributary moon : 
 Blest abode of spirits blest, 
 Seat of pleasure, couch of rest,, 
 Roll, roll on, thou lovely orb. 
 Momentary was the pause, 
 Everlasting are our laws. 
 
THE RENOVATION. 129 
 
 Swell the hallowed symphony, 
 
 Voice and soul of harmony. 
 
 Raise in accents soft and clear 
 
 Strains which Heaven may stoop to hear. 
 
 As the vocal chords respire 
 
 In accordance with the quire 
 
 Roll, roll on, thou lovely orb. 
 
 Momentary was the pause 
 
 Everlasting are our laws. 
 
 Praise we Him, whose praise to sing 
 We revolve in complex ring. 
 Infinitely on infinite 
 Verging still, still infinite 
 In wonder, wonder still beholding 
 Newer wonders still unfolding 
 Roll, roll on each lovely orb. 
 Momentary was the pause, 
 Everlasting are our laws." 
 
 THE SHOUT OF THE SONS OF GOD. 
 
 " Ever watchful — Ever powerful — 
 Ever present — Ever knowing — 
 Centre — boundary — end — beginning — 
 
 Where Thou art brightest, there is Heaven, 
 Where obscurest, vales of woe. 
 
130 THE RENOVATION. 
 
 Ever renewing — Never wearying — 
 Blessing still and still sustaining — 
 God of God, and Lord of Lord — 
 Holy, just, and true, art Thou." 
 
 The genial joy 
 Systems from systems, as they nearer confine 
 On The Eternal Splendour, the melodious song 
 Kaise higher ; 'till the universal peal 
 All heaven's immortal essences prolong 
 In numbers mystical, for grosser ear 
 Too subtle, too surpassing. 
 
 In the glad concord glows. 
 
 WHERE IS GOD? 
 
 Not in the dark, the fearful deep, 
 Nor in the dense-blue sky, 
 
 Nor in the wild, the howling storm, 
 Nor in the whirlwind's cry ; 
 
WHERE IS GOD. 131 
 
 Nor on the raist-enshrouded mount, 
 
 Nor on the horizoned plain, 
 Nor in the centre-piercing cleft : — 
 
 Ye seek, ye seek in vain : 
 Nor height, nor depth, nor limit known, 
 Mark his sublime, mysterious throne, 
 
 Yet, God is every where. 
 
 Not in the awful void profound, 
 
 Leaping from sun to sun, 
 Grasping all heaven in one wide range, 
 
 Threading each mazy zone, 
 Can the untired, exhaustless soul 
 
 Sweep one star-teeming plain 
 And say, " there dwells the Only One ;' 
 
 Ye seek, ye seek in vain : 
 System, nor sun, nor world is known 
 Where glows his everlasting throne, 
 
 Yet, God is every where* 
 
 And, from the microscopic space 
 
 Where embryo atoms lie, 
 Where the strained eyeball strives in vain 
 
 To pierce the mystery ; 
 As from the ever-countless hosts 
 
 That gem the ethereal plain, 
 One still, clear, voice, resistless cries, 
 
 " Ye seek not here in vain : 
 
 2 k 
 
132 WHERE IS GOD. 
 
 Here are his wonders, here his might, 
 Open, revealed to human sight, 
 For, God is every where/' 
 
 And, streaming from the dreamy cave 
 
 Scarcely instinct with life, 
 And from the gorgeous, torrid realm 
 
 With nature's glories rife ; 
 From all the rich, exuberant earth, 
 
 From the all-teeming main, 
 Rises one universal shout ; 
 
 " Ye seek not here in vain ; 
 Here are his wonders, here his might, 
 Open, revealed to human sight, 
 
 For, God is everv where." 
 
 He, from the unsparing, iron fangs, 
 
 Of cruelty and woe, 
 Leads mercy, and bids righteousness, 
 
 In holiest transport glow : 
 Justice, and truth, and light, and life, 
 
 Here raise, in holiest strain, 
 One full, harmonious, deathless shout, 
 
 " Ye seek not here in vain : 
 Even hence, from this bleak, desert shore, 
 Joy, hope, and peace exulting soar, 
 
 For God is every where." 
 
WHERE IS GOD. 133 
 
 And here, revealed to human sense, 
 
 Intangible, unseen, 
 Verging on sight, close to our grasp, 
 
 Within the living scene 
 Of his conspicuous providence, 
 
 We see his footsteps plain : 
 Burning in faith, convinced, assured, 
 
 We seek not here in vain : 
 In all his wondrous works confest, 
 Wisdom, and power, and love attest, 
 
 That God is every where. 
 
Considering tliat, even if I were remotely acquainted with the 
 peculiar Art of Dramatic Composition, the following subject 
 must be, in itself, quite unfit for scenic representation ; I have 
 treated it as a work to be read, and only to be realized, men- 
 tally. 
 
 I have endeavoured to pourtray the high-minded, patriotic, 
 and devoted chieftain, and his daughter, in accordance with the 
 beautifully natural sacred narrative. I have, in the fiction, ex- 
 posed their constancy to such trials as might have occurred ; 
 and have endeavoured to contrast them with such characters, 
 as should render them more prominent : and I hope that, the 
 recorded incidents, have been introduced appropriately to the 
 times, and without violence to the historical facts; and that 
 they are clothed in not very ill-adapted language. 
 
 With what success ? — 
 
JEPHTHAH. 
 
 a Mttd) lax 
 
 A DRAMATIC POEM. 
 
PERSONS. 
 
 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 OTHNIEL. 
 
 ASAHEL. 
 
 GALEED. 
 
 MATTATHA. 
 
 ITHRA. 
 
 KALED. 
 
 MAHUDATHA. 
 
 ELROTHAN. 
 
 WARRIORS AND PEOPLE. 
 
 THE HIGH PRIEST. 
 
 HADASSAH. 
 AZUBAH. 
 PENINAH. 
 MAACHAH. 
 VIRGINS. 
 
137 
 
 MIZPEH OF GILEAD. 
 
 PEN1NAH, KALED, AND OTHER ISRAELITES, LYING 
 UPON THE GROUND IN SACKCLOTH. 
 
 1st. Here meet we, stealing from our hiding places, 
 As worried wild beasts hemmed by hunters round, 
 Galled and distressed. No kindly ray of hope 
 In this dark, loathsome depth of desolation 
 To cheer us on. 
 
 2d. Alas, alas, my child ! 
 
 3d. Alas, my father ! 
 
 4th. I, by thirst impelled, 
 
 Crept with my starving, emaciated daughter 
 To the foetid, miry pool : from my weak grasp, 
 They tore her : 
 
 5 th. All, all my children, 
 
 My wife, my parents, sleep in forgetfulness. 
 No blood of mine flows in a kindred vein. 
 
 6th. All mine still live ; living, yet in the clench 
 
138 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 Of griping famine. Dim, shadowless spectres, 
 Scarcely human forms, they pick from the cleaving 
 
 earth, 
 Offal and refuse. 
 
 A corpse is borne across. A maniac preceding it. 
 
 maniac Bring in rich venison. It is a goodly morsel, 
 We banquet with proud revelry and riot. 
 We hold a banquet with the full round worm : 
 I am the giver of the feast. Right welcome. 
 Most welcome. Sit ye. 
 
 Another corpse borne across : one mourner following it. 
 
 mourner. The first and last-born, mingle in one grave. 
 They rest in peace. 
 
 ITHRA, MATTATHA, GALEED, MAHUDATHA, enter. 
 
 ithra. And I too, now have laid 
 
 My first, my last born, in the last dreary home. 
 Ye have reproached me, when my earnest voice 
 Implored ye to forsake those bestial gods, 
 Gods made in pride, in scorn, in discontent ; 
 That pain, and hunger, and the piteous wailing 
 Of friends, of kindred urged me. Now I know not 
 Kindred or friend. Nought but my country's wel- 
 fare 
 Prompts me to bid ye seek to outcast Jephthah. 
 
JEPHTHAH. 139 
 
 galeed. Will Jephthah aid us ? 
 
 mahudatha. Vindictively will he 
 
 Reject us. Can Jephthah pardon ? 
 Will the dog forget his currish nature ? 
 
 itbra. I then defended him, 
 
 Unhappily but only by my words 
 When ye attacked with weapons. I with you 
 In tears of blood have wept those violations, 
 And I with you in lowliest abasement 
 Will beg— 
 
 mattatha. Mattatha begs not so, 
 
 Though sword nor spear were found throughout our 
 
 land 
 Our passions should be swords, despair our leader, 
 And naked bosoms laugh to mockery 
 The tyrant's corslet. 
 
 ithba. Mattatha, thy wife, 
 
 Thy newly betrothed, thy fondly cherished wife 
 Is at Ammon's mercy. Galeed, thy little ones 
 Have but one last, one scant, one noisome meal, 
 Thy pining parents wasted to skeletons 
 Vainly implore the pitying hand of death. 
 
 galeed. Jephthah, and death, and vengeance, are but 
 words 
 Of one sad import. 
 
140 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 mahubatha. Will he be far more merciful than 
 Amnion ? 
 Will he not pluck your children from the breast ? 
 Will he not pour them into the lap of slaughter, 
 And surfeit death with mangled carcases ? 
 
 peninah. Out wretch ! that darest not look upon 
 the man 
 Thy serpent tongue defames. 
 
 kaled. Man of Belial ! 
 
 Forget one moment thy perversity. 
 
 mahudatha. Go in, go in : doting garrulity 
 111 fits a time of warfare. 
 
 peninah. Boastful tongues, 
 
 Lessen valour's credit. Not so the traduced 
 Was wont to speak ; and, from his cradle upward, 
 Though ever conscious of his native worth, 
 None ever called him vain. In the midst of mirth 
 There was a moody wildness marked him out 
 As fit for noblest deeds. Breathlessly 
 He heard my tales of Deborah, and Barak, 
 Ehud, and Gideon. In his flashing eye 
 Defiance gleamed. The daring brow was knit, 
 The lips compressed, the eager hand close clenched, 
 And firm, yet tremulous, his rigid frame 
 Fixed in abstraction, marked the intensity 
 Of his generous ardour. I foresaw him then 
 
JEPHTHAH. 141 
 
 Proud, noble, great, the Israelitish prince, 
 Conqueror of Kings. When ye maliciously, 
 Pray heaven forgive ye ! — When ye taunted him, 
 And chased him like an accursed Gentile dog, 
 He told me ; they were memorable words, 
 And I have cherished them as choicest gems, 
 " I never, never, never will requite it." 
 
 mahudatha. Go in, go in, and make your peace with 
 heaven : 
 Earth will not hear your babbling on the morrow. 
 
 peninah. And therefore speak I while it is, to-day. 
 
 ithra. The dregs of life are wasting; all our hopes, 
 Each after each have vanished, like the mockery 
 Of water in a desert. Jephthah alone 
 Stands like a mountain in a parched plain. — 
 
 ma-ttatha. To crush us while imploringly we seek 
 A shelter within it's shadow. 
 
 mahudatha. Living by plunder, 
 
 A robber and an outlaw, one who delights 
 In reckless rapine, like the tiger rioting, 
 Swilling to the full of vengeance. 
 
 peninah. Man of Belial ! 
 
 A woman calls thee, Liar. From my breast 
 The milk of mercv nursed him. Go to him 
 
142 JEPHTHA.H. 
 
 Mattatha, Galeed ; go, your dying children, 
 Your famishing wives implore ye. See around 
 O'er all yon blackened wilderness, like a swarm 
 Of locusts resting, Philistia's 
 And Ammon's hosts are spread : the morrow's sun 
 
 will see us 
 Gnawn, burnt, and blasted. Go to your brother, 
 Kneel to him, sue to him ; tell him, earnestly tell 
 
 him, 
 Plead to him that ye have, in penitence, 
 Turned to your God, have prayed, have wept to him, 
 Have overturned the altars, hewn down the groves, 
 Have stamped the demon images into dust. — • 
 Go to him, Ithra, and, my life for yours, 
 The God of Heaven will pour into his spirit 
 Resolute will and superhuman strength 
 To save us. — Go to him, Ithra, go. 
 
 ithra. In sternest mood, 
 
 Rough as the mountain torrent, Liberty 
 Lights her fierce flame. He like a beacon placed 
 On the mountain crest, points to us wanderers 
 The path of safety. 
 
 one of the people. Alas, alas, my child ! 
 
 another. Alas, my brother ! distress and misery, 
 Anguish and torment ! oh, alas my brother ! 
 
 ithra. Were he vindictive, were he sanguinary, 
 
JEPHtfHAH. 143 
 
 Did he delight in misery, were the wreck of famine 
 
 His blithesome jest, and did his revelling bands 
 
 Dance to the groans of Israel, yet he has 
 
 A child which draws him from the scene of blood. 
 
 The stern, relentless passion of the sire 
 
 Is softened by her impassioned gentleness : 
 
 His proud, severe, unbending bigotry, 
 
 Blended with her enthusiastic zeal, 
 
 And high conceptions of our destiny, 
 
 Is but a slight, a pardonable excess. 
 
 He acutely feeling, earnestly resenting 
 
 All we have done, yet she, imbued with love, 
 
 With strong attachment to her father-land, 
 
 Must make him our defender, our avenger. 
 
 Aggression, daunted by her angel tongue, 
 
 Sinks in submission. Pleading to his soul, 
 
 Persuasively adapting all her tones, 
 
 Her silver tones of pity, she will mould him 
 
 Even in despite of hatred, even though revenge 
 
 Stretched out our throats, and bade him feast to the 
 
 glut: 
 She, she will bid him save us. 
 
 mattatha. But a frail hope. 
 
 galeed. Yet let us not, in this our shipwrecked state, 
 Pass the last friendly lichen, that from the roek 
 Hangs down to aid us. 
 
 peninah. Galeed, beg for us. 
 
144 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 galeed. Hopelessly hoping, we appeal to him. 
 
 mahudatha. Hopes not Mahudatha. Nor would he 
 hope. 
 
 [They pass out.~\ 
 THE LAND OF TOB. 
 
 HADASSAH AND AZUBAH. 
 
 azubah. How sweet from the commanding, towering 
 
 Of this fair mount, to see the laughing sun 
 Rush like a joyous hunter to commence 
 His ardent course : to taste the breath of morn 
 Perfumed with odours of ten thousand flowers : 
 To mark his slant beam gleam upon the high 
 Majestic cedars, and their tribute arise 
 As incense, mingling with the exuberant mirth 
 Of the gay chorister, whose whole soul fills 
 His music. Sweet 'tis to stand upon the tip 
 Of breathless expectation, listening still, 
 Mutely attentive to the rustling leaves 
 Which tell-tale of our footsteps. — — 
 
 Nay, nay, no more 
 
JEPHTHAH. 145 
 
 Of this idle musing. — Vacuity 
 Were a glad lover at such eager gaze. 
 
 hadassah. Poor wretched Israel ! How they in terror 
 steal 
 Cringing, and creeping> slinking through black ra- 
 vines 
 As guilty ghosts, while Amnion's flaunting banners 
 Dance gaily in the sun's broad, golden light, 
 And the sharp cymbals ring. Oh that they rung 
 His death-peal ! O ! that the God of mercy 
 Would waken Israel's soul, would bow their stub- 
 born knees, 
 Would from their bosoms tear the heart of stone, 
 And humble them in penitence. Foul, foul idolatry ! 
 Dire, deadly demon ! 
 
 azubah. Nay, Hadassah, nay. 
 
 This moodiness will sear your faculties. 
 
 hadassah. Oh that the poisonous, the polluting stain 
 Which reeks to Heaven for vengeance, were not our. 
 Our dear, our cherished sin. Israel, Oh Israel ! 
 My poor, unhappy country ! wretchedness 
 And misery, and woe, and pain, and death, 
 Have hurled thee down, have linked thee in their 
 
 fetters, 
 Have bound thee to thy God : — -yet hast thou snapped 
 The merciful constrainers ; hast, like a high, 
 A full-fed horse, burst from thy plenteous stall. 
 
146 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 And stung with furious madness, hast thrown down 
 And trampled upon thy master. — Would, would that 
 
 I could 
 Upon thy faithful bosom weep to death, 
 If tears could save my country. But — but to you 
 But — but to Othniel, dare I thus outpour, 
 My consuming sorrow. Would, would that my 
 
 father 
 Could once, could for one little moment, once for- 
 get— 
 Oh I would plead, as our forefather pleaded 
 For the guilty cities.- — You have borne with me, 
 And I am calm, as this ethereal calmness. 
 Had sunk into my bosom. 
 
 azubaeu We spake of merriment but yesterday. 
 
 hadassah. Mirth is a holloAV mocker at such griefs,. 
 And yet I must be mirthful, although my heart, 
 Eevolts against the seeming. 
 
 azubah. There shall yet be days of mirth,. 
 
 There shall be shout, there shall be revelry. 
 The darkest hour of night precedes the rising 
 Of the glad sun : the chilliest, piercing hour 
 Waits ever upon the day-break : and the blithe, 
 Eich carol of the morn-bird, bursts from the deepest, 
 Intensest silence. Even now the naming orb 
 Has with his bright glow, chased the ebon shade, 
 And the pure rose, bathed in the morning dew 
 
JEPHTHAH. 147 
 
 Gleams like a bride in tears of happiness. 
 
 hadassah. And that suit's holiest light, 
 
 First, loveliest, and most blessed of God's works, 
 Dashing the full cup from the dreamer's lip 
 Wakes up yon slave to gnawing misery. 
 He sees no brilliance, hears no melting music 
 Though earth's ten thousand voices swell the peal 
 Of joyous melody. His seared faculties 
 Drink them all in, but to corrode his soul, 
 And fester in his heart. One drear, dead blank 
 To him are heaven and earth. Cut off, cut off 
 From all the sweet amenities of life, 
 He has no commerce with the free-man's joy, 
 He has no commerce with the free-man's hope, 
 He has no commerce with the free-man's high, 
 Majestic bearing. Degradation sits 
 Cowering upon him. If, in moody rage 
 He dare assert man's natural dignity, 
 The whirling lash sounds in his shrinking ear, 
 The galling fetter cankers his rankling wound, 
 And into madness tortures him. Or if subdued, 
 Crushed, trampled, spurned upon ; — he thinks, speaks, 
 
 acts, 
 As act, think, speak his masters ; has nor hand, 
 Nor foot, nor tongue, nor eye, nor sense, nor soul ; 
 But, bond-slave all ; blood, bones, and sinews, all 
 Die in the bond-slave's brand ; and the first hour 
 That robs him of his freedom, drags him down, 
 And stamps him, reptile. — Oh, my bleeding country ! 
 
148 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 Such, such is Israel. — Israel rebelled, 
 Israel threw off the light yoke from his neck, 
 Yoke bent in mercy, and in blessing bound ; 
 And riot ran. Mad in the hot pursuit, 
 Enfuriate in license, wild in misrule, and fierce 
 As thousand thousand demons broken loose 
 Red-reeking from penal fire. — God's yoke was hard, — 
 God's yoke was heavy — God's yoke fretted them. — 
 Yokes of their own they made, soft, polished yokes, 
 Yokes to be snapped like willow wands, or wreathed 
 Into ten thousand fancies. — Aye, they took to them 
 Gods — such as men make.— Gods — whose abhorrent 
 
 crimes 
 Ensanctified their own.— The God of Day; 
 The Holy Queen of Heaven, Mother of Gods 
 And men, — all Syria's Gods, all, all the Gods 
 Of Sidon, Moab, Ammon, Philistia, 
 Swart Egypt's spurious, impure progeny, 
 Linked with proud Nimrod's fables. — Lightsomely 
 They swam in the voluptuous dance, and blithe- 
 
 somely 
 Struck their loud-ringing cymbals ; right joyously 
 They swilled the bewildering cup ; and franticly 
 Leaped, shrieked, sang, shouted, as the hungry fire 
 Of Moloch ate up their children. — Gods such as 
 
 these 
 Cruel, vile, filthy, and detestable, 
 They raised above the righteous God of Heaven : 
 And Gcd looked down in anger; as a loathed, 
 Repulsive morsel, spat them from his mouth, 
 
JEPHTHAH. 149 
 
 Rejected, and abhorred them. — He, whose terrible 
 
 Vindictive anger, held up to mockery 
 
 The Gods, and brake the utmost strength of Egypt, 
 
 Struck down bold Moab, crushed fierce Amalek, 
 
 And, as a pigmy rends the meanest fly, 
 
 Plucked up the Anakim, disgustedly 
 
 Turned from his foster child, grieving in hatred, 
 
 And yearning in his wrath : abandoning them 
 
 To their own heart's lust, plunging them deep down 
 
 Into their own miry slough, and cursing them 
 
 To this vile slavery. — They sold their souls, 
 
 He sold their bodies ; and the deadliest visitation 
 
 That can befal free- men, fell heavily on them. 
 
 Slaves, slaves in soul, in spirit, mind, thought, 
 
 strength, 
 In every energy still slaves, slaves, slaves. — 
 Oh Israel ! oh, my wretched, wretched country ! 
 Sin is thy curse, and sin's fit recompense 
 The foul idolatry which binds thee in 
 This bitter slavery. 
 
 azubah. Nay, nay, no more of this; 
 
 The bright, glad, glow of freedom, reddens our 
 
 cheeks, 
 And beats high in our hearts, 
 
 HADAssah. Yes, freemen dare 
 
 Lift up to heaven, their fiery, eagle glance ; 
 And freemen, as it were, dare rush into heaven, 
 Pierce to the throne of God, and look down thence 3 
 
150 JEPIITHAH. 
 
 As God looks down upon his glorious works, 
 
 To foster, and to love. The free-man's noble heart 
 
 Holds a rich jewel, which no power but sin 
 
 Can dim, or flaw : and his persisting strife, 
 
 His stern contention against opposing worlds, 
 
 His in-born spirit's onward, dauntless tread 
 
 Through storm, through peril ; rising from each fall 
 
 More vigorous, more determined, were a scene 
 
 For angels to delight in. — God loves the free^man. — ■ 
 
 God's freedom sits upon his eager sword, 
 
 God's freedom sits upon his beaming lance, 
 
 God's freedom is his corslet, shield, and helm, 
 
 And the blithe spirit of God's freedom, sits 
 
 A guardian angel on his expanded brow, 
 
 Lights up his falcon-eye, and glancing bright 
 
 As God's own lightning, bears down victory, 
 
 And binds her inconstant pennons. — Oh, I am 
 
 proud, 
 Yes, I am proud, Azubah, in my father, 
 My free-born, freedom-loving, dear, dear, father. 
 No other child ever had a dearer father, 
 No other father has a dearer child, 
 Than Jephthah and his Hadassah. — Would, would 
 
 that all, 
 That all, all Israel, linked in our happiness, 
 Were free, were blest as we are. 
 
 azubah. And Othniel. 
 
 hadassah. Othniel, my brother, by the dearest ties 
 
JEPHTHAH. 151 
 
 Of loving friendship, and confiding love. 
 
 I can be proud of noble Qthniel, 
 
 The repetition of my princely father, 
 
 Ardent, fierce, bold, wild, and intractable 
 
 As the gyr-falcon : mild, balmy, gentle, 
 
 As gay Spring's earliest breath. — Nurtured together 
 
 As frolic antelopes, whose graceful necks 
 
 Beauty has twined with flowers, we ever have been. 
 
 As sister, and as brother. Jephthah blessed us, 
 
 Linked our young hands together, half in sport 
 
 Half in prophetic earnestness. From that day 
 
 We thought one thought, acted one act, one soul 
 
 Informed our separate minds ; one holiest joy 
 
 Sleeping has nestled on our closed lids, 
 
 Waking has gleamed from each blithe-beaming eye. 
 
 And thou Azubah hast grown up with us, 
 
 Been our fast friend, hast laughed, hast wept with us, 
 
 And— 
 
 azubah. And I can laugh, and weep, and frolic still, 
 And bear with moodiness, and glow, as glows 
 Thy enthusiastic spirit. And I can bless, 
 And I can hail the sun that awakes this morn 
 To witness — May Heaven's, heaven's choicest bles- 
 sings 
 Pure, fragrant clew-drops, fresh from Paradise 
 Alight upon your heads. Nay, nay, weep not, 
 Such pearls are unapt ornaments to deck 
 A blest bride's blushing cheek. 
 
152 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 hadassah. Yet could T weep 
 
 Until weeping grew into mirthfulness, if joy 
 Such as this bright day hails, were as the snn-light 
 Spread over the whole earth. 
 
 jephthah enters. 
 
 jephthah. God save thee, child, 
 
 The God of Israel shower his choicest gifts 
 Upon ye both. 
 
 hadassah. And, oh may Israel's God, 
 
 Still, still protect my father, be to him 
 Shield, spear, and hauberk. 
 
 jephthah. Shield, hauberk, helm, 
 
 And gallant hearts behind them. My bonny bird, 
 The fresh-plumed owlet seeks to mate him with 
 The royal eaglet. The hysena's cub 
 Aspires to the lioness. 
 
 hadassah. You speak in riddles. 
 
 jephthah. Jesses, and bells, and lures; attractive 
 lures, 
 Are held out for the falcon : and she will sit 
 Upon the princely hand, and sleek ber neck, 
 And fan her soaring wings and clutch her talons, 
 
JEPHTHAH. 153 
 
 And harry down the dove, and — Nay my blithe bird, 
 Why look beseechingly ? Thou hast to grant. 
 
 had ass ah. That covert glance of merriment repressed, 
 Is at strange issue with thy constrained brow j 
 Eaglets and owlets were as fitly mated. 
 Thy mirth sits gaily on thy glowing cheek, 
 Thy mirth sits gaily on thy rebellious lip 
 And I will taste it's fragrance. I can look back, 
 Far, far, far back, and see thee thus in thy pride, 
 Thy youthful, manly, ardent, exulting pride, 
 When first my mother listened to thy vows. 
 And I as proudly love thee, my dear father ; 
 And I, in all her womanly affection, 
 Glory to bless thee, and to call thee mine : 
 My own, dear father. 
 
 jephthah. My own, my own dear child. 
 
 I am as proud, as blest in thee, my girl : 
 I can as fondly, as in my youthful love, 
 Trace in thy form, thy mother's stately bearing, 
 That bright, keen glance which nerved my sinewy 
 
 arm 
 And added tenfold vigour to my gripe ; 
 That tear-filled gaze, when the glad, the holy hymn 
 Melted and mingled with the evening's breath, 
 Beam, glow, flash, blaze, in thee; and thy 
 
 tongue 
 Pours but renewed music into my soul. 
 Thou art my rose, and I, thy nightingale, 
 
154 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 And I could descant on thy breathing love 
 
 Until music grew enamoured of herself, 
 
 And my bright flower should weep her ecstacy. 
 
 hadassah. My dear, dear father. 
 
 jephthah. My sweet angel-child. 
 
 Angels, for angels have such holy love, 
 Angels, in angels feel such holy joy, 
 Angels, in angels have such unsinning pride 
 As thou and I have. I have guarded thee 
 As the jealous serpent guards the treasured gold. 
 And the Ethiop a more hopeful suitor were 
 To the wakeful dragon, than red Amnion's prince 
 To Jephthah. 
 
 hadassah. Jephthah and Ammon, in one unseparate 
 breath ? k 
 
 jephthah. Ammon, Hadassah, in one compressed 
 breath. 
 Yes, girl, that brindled dog, that bear's rough cub, 
 That 
 
 hadassah. Nay, nay, be calm. 
 
 jephthah. Thy price, 
 
 Rubies, diamonds, pearls, gold, silver, 'fulgent brass, 
 
 And iron lucid as the mid-day sun, 
 
 Armour, and chariots, horses, pledged, to o'ermatch 
 
JEPKTHAH. 155 
 
 The whirlwind, oxen, sheep, goats, lambs, 
 
 And camels, — such a goodly equipage 
 
 Joseph sent not of all rich Egypt's wealth 
 
 To convoy our forefather. Israel's flocks, 
 
 And lowing herds, were poverty herself 
 
 To the proffered purchase. — 111 does Amnion think 
 
 Manasseh's virgins are for barter born, 
 
 That all the wealth of all th' ostentatious east 
 
 Were fit price for my daughter. — No, my child, 
 
 Thy heart as mine beats. Gold, is gold 
 
 For those who love it : fame, is garish fame 
 
 For those who seek it : honour is as truth 
 
 To those who prize it. These are no times to play 
 
 At fast and loose with fortune. Providence, 
 
 Will but protect us, as we keep his path, 
 
 Strait, stern, and rugged, but the only path 
 
 Of safety. — Men, are the kings, my daughter, 
 
 Men are the kings whom Jephthah matches with. 
 
 In these rough days, the warrior is the, prince ; 
 
 The featest swordsman is the bonniest bridegroom, 
 
 The keenest hunter readily gathers fruit 
 
 Which blushes far above the sheep-herd's reach, 
 
 And Othniel, and Ammon, are as iron 
 
 And mouldering clay to each other. — So have I said. 
 
 So do I know Hadassah would have said, 
 
 Frankly, and fairly, and resolvedly. 
 
 hadassah. Heaven and my father, heard my plighted 
 faith, 
 Heaven and my father, ratified that faith, 
 
 V 
 
156 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 Heaven and my father, would expel me from 
 Their only-coveted love were I to forget 
 My honour or my oath. It is a pure 
 A sacred love : the love, my father sealed, 
 And I am proud to bear it in my bosom, 
 And blush not — for it is holy : — but had not 
 Ear ever heard, and throbbing heart never beaten 
 To the joyous impulse, Amnion the idolater, 
 Had sued, had wept in vain. 
 
 jephthah. Or threatened ? 
 
 habassah. Threats to Manasseh's daughters, were 
 weak 
 As to Manasseh's warriors, and — 
 
 othniel enters. 
 
 othniel. All hail, my father ! 
 
 Azubah, dear Hadassah, hail to ye both. 
 The God of Jacob, our forefather's God 
 Bless ye, protect ye : 
 
 all. And bless Othniel. 
 
 jephthah. Thy quarry has been nobler far than often 
 Yields to thy fleet-winged arrow. 
 
 othniel. Stealing close 
 
JEPHTHAH. 157 
 
 On the lee- ward side, between rocks and through 
 
 tangled brakes, 
 Death fell ere fear had cried. The outwatcher 
 Stood fixed, agaze at the instantaneous crash ; 
 Then at his utmost speed, fled as we followed. 
 Our toil-strung compeers soon abated breath, 
 But Asahel and myself, less firmly knit^ 
 Leaped as he leaped, ran as he ran, yet held 
 Our utmost effort in the leash, as poises 
 The falcon before he swoops. Ere we could strike, 
 A band of swarthy Ammonites, fully armed, 
 Headed our game :■ fear urged the headlong course 
 Full in his iormer trail, and he had fallen 
 As a bird into a net ; but the swollen eye, 
 Seemed to implore our pity, and the gushing tears 
 Were as infants pleading. Down, intuitively,. 
 Fell our relaxed arms, and the poor beast, 
 Halted as though to thank us ; one strong bound 
 Placed him beyond pursuit. — We, in our turn 
 Were marked out for the chase, and but that Heaven 
 Has mercy for the merciful, had fallen 
 Before ten times our number. 
 
 azubah. Asahel was not harmed? 
 
 othniel. Nor any : and our sylvan trophies bear 
 Good witness for us. Nay, my pretty playfellow 
 Look not so sad. 
 
 hadassah. 'Tis cruelty to chase 
 
158 JEPHTHAH, 
 
 Such timid wretches, and because man has 
 
 The strength to harm them, to exert that strength. 
 
 Would I could bind your arrows with a curse, 
 
 Unstring your bow with direct malediction, 
 
 And anathematize your javelin. 
 
 Some woeful day will see you borne along 
 
 Helpless and wounded ; or, beneath some dark 
 
 Impending precipice, mangled, and bleaching 
 
 In the cold winds of heaven, will you lie 
 
 For gorging vultures. 
 
 jephthah. God be between us and such day of grief. 
 Light be our lives, and easy be our deaths 
 As of the game we feed on. Love's terror, girl, 
 Is but an unschooled reasoner. — Ammonites 
 So near to us ? 
 
 othniel. Not in overmastering strength, 
 
 But predatory parties, speck the distant, 
 Almost extinct horizon. ' But for our chase 
 They might not have been noticed. 
 
 jephthah. Warily 
 
 Hold we our 'vantage. The sailing eagle eyes 
 From the splintered crest his spoiler. Amnion may 
 Dare much in despite, and dare not we the less 
 In our defence. Fare ye well, my children, 
 You with your joys, I with a chieftain's duty 
 Exhilirate our early meeting. 
 
JEPHTHAH. 159 
 
 azubah. I, to my distaff, 
 
 It's keen reproaches ring within my ears. 
 
 JEPHTHAH AND AZUBAH, paSS Out. 
 
 othniel, The choicest joy, 
 
 Joy overpowering all other joys 
 As the sun dims the starlight, welcomes in 
 This day of happiness. As npon this day 
 Our infant hands were joined : as upon this day, 
 Year after year has affection's fervid prayer 
 Re-sanctified our betrothal ; and but one more, 
 Oh why one more long period of impatience ? 
 And I shall hold thee, by a husband's right 
 Mine, mine for ever. 
 
 hadassah. And for ever yours, 
 
 For ever mine. We are too happy, Othniel. 
 
 othniel. If happiness could be distinct from lovely 
 Angelic virtues, then indeed were happiness 
 Too great for thee. If that my darkness were 
 A faint reflection of thy purest light, 
 Thy fixed, thy calm, intense, beatific light, 
 111 should I deem all human happiness 
 Too great for my enjoyment : yet mercy, 
 Tempers even bliss to man's capacity 
 Of endurance, and perfect bliss were too, 
 Too far exalted for the human mind 
 
160 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 To bear, and to hold it's faculties. Still I bless 
 This happiest day and could for ever live 
 In it's foreshadowing. 
 
 hadassah. May God look down in mercy, 
 
 And pour upon us so much mingled bliss 
 And trial, as shall bear us, unharmed on 
 To the life of our forefathers : there to live 
 In rapturous worship, and in rapturous labour 
 To enhance each other's bliss, and to increase 
 His honour who has made us. Would that, Othniel, 
 Would that poor outcast Israel, would return 
 In penitence to him. 
 
 othniel. Would say }^ou, dearest girly 
 
 My sister-wife : would, would that Israel 
 Would turn in penitence ? — If erring fame 
 Fable not past all redemption, Israel 
 Yet crying in terror, and with ashes strewn 
 Upon ashes, grovelling implore of him, 
 Pardon and pity. — We but indistinctly hear, 
 As we are here cut off, kept separate, 
 And unpolluted by communion with 
 The vile idolater : we indistinctly hear 
 The sore oppression by the Ammonite, 
 The sore oppression by the Philistine ; 
 And eighteen years of bitterest degradation 
 Have even but now so subdued them that they have 
 
 cried. 
 The indignant prophets, holy in their anger, 
 
JEPHTHAH. 161 
 
 Have turned from them in wrath, and bidden them 
 
 cry 
 To the bestial gods they chose. 
 
 hadassah. Yet, O, Lord God ! 
 
 Thou wilt not burn in vengeance until the earth 
 Shall wither : Thou wilt still; in compassion, hear 
 My poor, poor country ; thy own little one, 
 The child of thy own bosom. 
 
 othniel. Be it so. 
 
 They stood aghast. Pestilence, and misery 
 Stalked glaring, and upon thousands, thousands 
 
 fell; 
 Famine gnawed upon famine, and death, throned, 
 Sole monarch sate. — The brazen serpent saved 
 All who looked on in faith : so, in agony 
 Looked they and lived. As the big, scalding tear 
 Of streaming penitence, implored for mercy 
 Compassion stooped from heaven. They burst the 
 
 bonds, 
 They hurled down Chemosh, hurled fell Moloch 
 
 down 
 To welter in his own fire. — To the wide 
 Rejoicing winds they scattered Ashtaroth, 
 Priest-throned, impure, revolting Queen of Heaven, 
 So named in insensate, vain idolatry • 
 Threw down their altars, to the abhorring sun 
 Revealed the secrets of their sacred groves, 
 And while wan Ammon, in his wrath restrained. 
 
 , 
 
162 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 Looked on in utter astonishment, they slew 
 The required victims, purified themselves, 
 And worshipped the Lord God, the only God : 
 And he has heard them. 
 
 hadassah. Ever may he hear 
 
 Their heart-felt thankfulness. This is indeed a day, 
 Of joy and of rejoicing. Israel has awakened 
 To his dire sinfulness : Israel has awakened 
 To purifying penitence — Israel has awakened 
 To sanctifying peace. My loved, loved country I 
 The mother cannot gloat upon her child, 
 The bridegroom cannot triumph in his bride,. 
 As I rejoice over thee. 
 
 othniel. Yet be advised. 
 All this is said : but blear uncertainty 
 Yet darkens the intelligence : await 
 In confiding hope it's truth, 
 
 With rent garments, 
 With sackcloth on their loins, earth on their heads, 
 Whence are these suppliants ? 
 
 Othniel and Hadassah retire, Jephthah enters, fol- 
 lowed by Ithra, Galeed, and Mattatha, (Elders of 
 GileadJ and accompanied by Asahel. 
 
 jephthah. I never injured one of Gilead's sons, 
 High Heaven forbid that e'er my father's house 
 
JEPHTHAH. 163 
 
 Should fear despite or injury from me. 
 There lies your way, 
 
 ithra. We acknowledge all i 
 
 We own our fault, and seek to expiate 
 Our foul offence. 
 
 jephthah. And therefore come ye to espy me out, 
 To make a record of my wonted haunts, 
 To mark the value of the spoil I fought for, 
 And boldly gained from Ammon ? — For this ye come, 
 Under the glozing semblance of abasement ; 
 And bend and cringe, that when ye see advantage, 
 High towering over Jephthah, ye may strike, 
 And crush him. For this goodly end ye come. 
 
 mattatha. By the King of Heaven !— 
 
 jephthah. Traitors swear glibly. Could I believe 
 your oaths, 
 I, who from you each bitterest wrong endured, 
 Made keener by the sense of my dependence ? 
 
 Ye could praise my form, 
 Ye could caress me, could recount my deeds, 
 Repeat my prattle, while my father lived, 
 For that ye knew his love expected it. 
 Scarcely the blessing he implored upon me, 
 Grew cold upon his faltering, lifeless lip, 
 Ere ye could gather courage to insult, 
 To taunt, to scoff : and, lest the puny rage 
 
 m 2 
 
164 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 Of boyhood's indignation should outbreak, 
 
 Ye forced me, homeless, from my father's home. — 
 
 Go, ask the wildest bird that cleaves the sky 
 
 With rapid wing ; go, ask the fiercest beast 
 
 "Which ever drove his offspring from his lair 
 
 If those who injure ever come to beg. 
 
 ithra. We acknowledge all. 
 
 Heap, heap it doubled, tripled, upon our heads, 
 Our sinful heads. We sinned most grievously, 
 And that, our grievous crime, in wrath returns. — 
 The scorpion-scourge of dire necessity 
 Has driven us, cowering, to implore that aid 
 Which we so vilely, cruelly denied 
 To an orphan. — Gilead not alone 
 Sues now for mercy : all Manasseh's sons 
 Implore. 
 
 jephthah. Which of Manasseh's sons 
 
 Gave me a home when your inhuman outrage 
 Drove me through storm and whirlwind to seek out 
 And hope to find the lion in his hunger 
 More gentle than a brother ? They with you 
 Hunted me down. Each galling epithet 
 Whose force, whose meaning, I have learnt too 
 
 dearly, 
 Was lavished upon me. Not alone reviling 
 My mother, — for she was a mother to me, 
 Although foul sin had driven her to seek 
 The bread' of shame — No, not alone reviling 
 
JEPHTHAH. 165 
 
 My mother, but my princely father's name 
 Branding with infamy, they hurled it all 
 Upon my devoted head. Shall I then stoop 
 Now that the hand of God hath set me up, 
 Given me wealth, given me earthly power, 
 And made me greatest of that father's house ? 
 
 galeed. I, Jephthah, beg. 
 
 jephthah. Thou art my elder brother. 
 
 galeed. Elder by birth, much elder in demerit, 
 Elder in crime, in all that can debase 
 And make man vile, I, elder am to you, 
 Much younger in all else. 
 
 jephthah. You flatter masterlike. 
 
 galeed. "We come from Gilead : we are sorely di 
 tressed, 
 Robbed of all hope, hopeless of all repose 
 But in the bosom of our outcast brother. 
 
 jephthah. Well ye affect the utterance of distress. 
 
 ithea. We speak as nature prompts us, in reply 
 To censures, just and righteous that they are, 
 Yet harsh, yet bitter, made more poignant still 
 By conscience pouring venom through their teeth. 
 
166 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 asahel. This indignation does but bear thee on 
 Beyond the bound of reason. 
 
 jephthah. Does Asahel, 
 
 Plead for oppressors ? ! 
 
 asahel. Nay, but I use the privilege of friendship, 
 And soothe my chieftain when he acts unkindly. 
 
 jephthah. They heeded not when, in that cruel night, 
 I was cast out a homeless wanderer, 
 
 asahel. As to the august progenitor of our tribe 
 Whose brethren knelt in terror at his feet ; 
 These tyrants now are grovelling at your feet, 
 Whose outrage has been made the instrument 
 Of God to exalt you. 
 
 jephthah. I owe them nought, 
 
 asahel. All owe commiseration 
 
 To all. This their too foul offence 
 As it depresses them, enhances but more 
 Your pity. 
 
 jephthah. When, by severe experience, you, who know 
 not 
 Aught but of noblest natures, shall have discerned 
 That foul deceit with fragrant poison tips 
 Her insidious barb, I then will waive my judgment, 
 
 
JEPHTHAH. 167 
 
 But, for these men. — Return ye to your homes- 
 
 galeed. How can we face our wives, our little ones ? 
 Dread God of Heaven ! in mercy to our misery, 
 Bid pitying earth open her marble jaws 
 And swallow us. — We have sinned, have sinned, 
 Have sinned most bitterly — and, Thou art just. 
 
 ithra. When impious Ammon bare away our flocks, 
 Stopped up our wells, poisoned our rivulets, 
 Ravaged our fields, expelled vis of our homes, 
 Righteous expulsion for we cast thee out ; 
 Drove us to dig, for refuge, in the earth 
 Holes, dens, and caves : when, when their ferocity 
 Tare from the mother's breast her darling one, 
 The child of her old age, her only one, 
 And dashed the brains out — to the shrieks and 
 
 moans 
 Of childless matrons, of bereaved sires, 
 All we could answer, was — our brother Jephthah, 
 
 jephthah. And, in return for all I could achieve, 
 Ye would surprize me in the deep sleep of night, 
 And bind me, and deliver me to Ammon. 
 This would ye do, and buy your safety with it. 
 
 galeed. Oaths, prayers, and protestations, 
 
 Cannot efface the stigma which we bear 
 Most justly. — Far, far as men could suffer 
 With stern endurance we could firmly bear 
 
168 JE^HTHAH. 
 
 Nor shrink one nerve : — but when our virgins' cries, 
 When infant wailings, when the weak moans of age. 
 All night, all day, for wearying months and years, 
 Pierce through us : when, stretched upon the couch 
 Of feverish, restless, wan, inquietude, 
 Just sinking, from exhaustion, into slumber, 
 Our wretched haunts glare in the hostile flame • 
 They must be far, far less than degraded men 
 That could refuse to bow. 
 
 jephthah. I have endured all this ; 
 
 Have lien for weeks upon the frozen earth, 
 And Gilead's sons would not vouchsafe a look 
 On the starving outcast; nor will he on them. — ■ 
 Nay, speak no more : I have been taught by you 
 To shut my ears to woe and lamentation : 
 And I could imitate the hideous yell, 
 The demon howl, the fiendish execration, 
 The hell-born laughter ; but that I should scorn 
 To crush a wounded reptile. Go in peace. 
 
 ithra. Poor, poor Manasseh ! wretchedness and 
 death 
 Are all thy own. 
 
 mattatha. We must endure it firmly^ 
 
 And, when the worst of misery shall arrive, 
 Can but destroy our offspring and ourselves, 
 And leave dead bodies for the lust of Amman. 
 
JEPHTHAH. 169 
 
 had ass ah. My father 1 
 
 jephthah. Ttetire, retire, obey me instantly. 
 
 hadassah. Alas, my father ! until this dreadful hour 
 I never knew a scene of misery. 
 
 jephthah. Go — go— 
 
 hadassah. You never frowned upon me, 
 
 Nor have I ever offended you. — My father ! — 
 Was — was it my father spake unadvisedly ? 
 
 Our great lawgiver, blessed be his remembrance, 
 Bade us befriend the helpless and the stranger, 
 Even to help the Egyptian, in his distress, 
 For that we were bond-men in the Egyptian's land. — - 
 Strangers have claims upon our earnest pity, 
 Strangers are in God's own safeguard, pleading in 
 The voice of God. — Forgive me, oh my father — - 
 We all come strangers into this chill world, 
 Where then had been thou, I, and all around, 
 Had strangers not found welcome, had not some 
 Kind bosom cherished us ? 
 
 jephthah. These were no strangers, girl, 
 
 Had they not rudely snapped affection's bonds 
 And made themselves estranged. — These are the 
 
 men 
 Who once could make a merit of feigned affection 
 
170 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 And call me, brother : fraternity in hatred 
 Is all the tie of blood now. They loathed me, 
 As I now reject them. — There lies your way. 
 
 hadassah. Our childless forefather, for the guilty 
 cities, 
 As friend to friend, dared speak before his Creator, 
 Shall not I plead to man ? — My father, oh my 
 
 father ! 
 Why is this trembling ? grasp me not so harshly, 
 Nay, turn not thus away. — I am your child ; 
 And though I brave your anger, yet I am 
 Your true, your trustful, your affectionate child ; 
 And, though you slew me, my departing soul 
 Would be your child's. — Remember, oh, my father ! 
 Thou wast a stranger. 
 
 jephthah. Stranger, rejected, spurned, 
 
 Cursed, spit upon, — Yes, I was made a stranger, 
 And the stark wilderness was a fonder brother 
 Than my fond father's children.- — Go in peace — 
 Go — go in peace. 
 
 hadassah. And the sweet peace of Heaven 
 
 Shall spring up in your soul, if only, only you add, 
 Come, come in peace. — My father ! — in my prayers, 
 When I could just but lisp the holy name, 
 When I sat, wondering, on the dear, loved knees 
 I now grasp imploringly, and followed your 
 Uplifted gaze, and marked the deep-blue sky 
 
JEPHTHAH. 171 
 
 Gemmed with the glowing stars, you bade me say, 
 God bless my father — God bless my kind, kind 
 
 friends — 
 God bless my enemies : — Did you not then forgive 
 Your enemies, my father? — Nay, struggle not, 
 Tear not away your hand. 
 
 jephthah. Rise, — rise, 
 
 hadassah. I would not only rise : with heaven-ward 
 spring 
 I would clasp around my father's neck, and devour- 
 ingly 
 Kiss off those gushing tears. — If God should bid, 
 If God should bid thee, by an angeFs voice, 
 To do some great deed, would'st thou not do it ? 
 If God should bid thee in his rugged path 
 To walk, would'st thou not walk? If God should 
 
 say 
 These are my children ; love them : could'st thou 
 
 not love them ? — 
 These are God's children : they have turned to him, 
 And God has turned to them. Wilt not thou turn ? 
 Wilt not thou follow where God treads before thee ? 
 
 jephthah. They are apostates. 
 
 hadassah. They were apostates. 
 
 Oh, that we all could look into our bosoms 
 And find no stain of apostacy within 
 
172 JEPHTIIAH. 
 
 Our secret, secret, souls ! — Bear with me, oh my 
 
 father ! 
 As God has borne with them, — bear, bear with them 
 As God has borne with thee, — and, oh forgive 
 As thou shalt hope, as thou would' st be thyself 
 
 Forgiven. God has forgiven them : 
 
 I know, I feel it. — Suppliants though they be, 
 Robed as they are in wretchedness, denied 
 With dust and ashes ; yet, their manly bearing 
 Asserts that they are forgiven ; consciously 
 They tread as new-born men, as men free-born, 
 Free-born in God's pure love. Shall God's own 
 
 freed-man 
 Plead to a free-born man, and no responsive string 
 Vibrate within him ? Oh, forbid it, Heaven ! — 
 God of my fathers ! bid my father be 
 A father to his brethren. — Oh, my honoured father ! 
 These are our brethren : we have one common 
 
 father, 
 Are of one tribe, one nation, adore one God. — 
 Think, think, my father ; Amnion's iron scourge 
 This eighteen years has torn, has tortured them. . 
 Fearless and proud, made insolent in strength, 
 Unchecked, and unrestrained, they even now 
 Gather around our home : 
 
 jephthah. They dare as soon assail 
 
 The battlements of heaven : 
 
 hadassah. While that God holds 
 
JEPHTHAH. 173 
 
 His bridle in their jaws : — be that unloosed, 
 
 In some dread, maddened moment, hot with wine, 
 
 Enarmed with MolocVs blood-stained, burning 
 
 brands 
 Their ferocious legions yet may test your strength. 
 True, ypu are strong ; true, your resounding fame 
 Holds their fierce king in check : but, sinking in old 
 
 age, 
 Stricken down, and smitten, languid with disease, 
 Could Jephthah strive for ever ? — Oh, I could beg, 
 Outweary you with strenuous supplication ; 
 Could say that, even yet, my father may need; 
 Renowned, glorious, prosperous as he is, 
 The succour he denies : could strongly picture, 
 His treasures pillaged, his defenceless child, 
 When Othniel, and when Jephthah are far off, 
 For ye are brave, and fearless of surprise ; 
 Borne off by Ammon. Oh, I could tell him too, 
 His name, abhorred, would reek in future time 
 Should he for personal, private wrong desert 
 His writhing country. Oh, I could tell him, 
 Could tell him, could he impiously, ungratefully, 
 "Withstand the holy impulse which even now 
 Fiercely burns within his ardent, stedfast gaze, 
 And sits defiant upon his firm-set lip, 
 That God needs not the energy of Jephthah 
 To save his agonized children. — God can call 
 From out this hard earth, instantaneously, 
 Ten thousand thousand legions to avenge 
 His chosen ; — but the love of Heaven selects 
 
174 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 Thy brilliant weapons — Thou art God's chosen 
 
 chief — 
 Go, in the strength of God — Hew down God's foes — 
 Be, be thou, God's glorious conqueror. — 
 
 jephthah. To my heart, 
 
 My bleeding, bursting, yearning, yearning heart, 
 Come, come, my brethren. — 
 
 Hadassah ! thou 
 Hast conquered. In thy thrall of gentleness 
 Thou holdest no gentle spirit. 
 
 ithra. This, this shall be a day of gratulation, 
 A day of holy joy, kept festival, 
 And sanctified to future time — Hail — Hail to thee, 
 
 Chief! 
 Hail, to thee, Angel ! Unborn years shall be 
 Kich in thy praise. 
 
 hadassah. And wealthy shall ye be 
 
 In Him toward whom your erring feet have turned. 
 So shall ye fight, as never yet men fought, 
 So shall ye conquer, as never yet men conquered, 
 So shall ye triumph, as never yet men triumphed. 
 Before you, as the fragile, quivering leaves 
 Are whirled by the tempest's breath, your enemies 
 Shall flee: Gilead the loud-resounding threshing- 
 
 floor, ,, 
 
 Ammon the refuse chaff. — Be but his people, 
 
JEPHTHAH. 175 
 
 And he will be your guide, your chief, your God. 
 
 jephthah. As ye have said : say, do ye straitly 
 swear 
 Here, in the presence of that God, whose might 
 Smote Egypt, and led Israel through the drear 
 And howling wilderness ; who ever heads 
 Israel's blithe band, shall be proud Gilead's head ? 
 
 ithra. We have so said : and we do straitly swear 
 Here, in the presence of that God, whose might 
 Smote Egypt, and led Israel through the drear 
 And howling wilderness ; if thou shalt head 
 Israel's blithe band, thou shalt be Gilead's head. 
 
 jephthah. So do the God of Heaven, to me and 
 mine 
 As I discharge my duty faithfully, 
 Towards God and man. I will be Gilead's head, 
 Will be to Gilead, father, brother, friend ; 
 Gilead to me be fathers, brethren, friends, 
 And woe to him that severs this our union. 
 
 Othniel ! Asahel ! ere the noontide hour 
 
 We march towards Mizpeh. Bid our ready bands 
 
 Heed not to leave their wives and children here. 
 
 God's terror shall keep watch around their heads 5 
 
 Chariots and horsemen of avenging fire 
 
 Shall walk around them incessantly. — 
 
176 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 My child ! 
 My dear, devoted, enthusiastic child ! 
 Pride of my youth and glory of my manhood, 
 Light, life, and lustre of this dearly-loved home, 
 Thy nerves must now be strung. 
 
 hadassah. Whatever task 
 
 God calls his creatures to, he fits them for, 
 And the timid, powerless woman, in his strength 
 Becomes a dauntless giant. Deborah 
 Might lead when Barak quailed. 
 
 [They all pass out.'] 
 
 i- i-*\ 
 
177 
 
 THE COUNCIL, 
 
 JEPHTHAH, ITHRA, GALEED, MATTATHA, 
 
 asahel enters. 
 
 jephthah. Thou hast borne thy message ? 
 
 asahel. Thus have I said. — 
 
 Jephthah the son of Gilead, and the chosen head 
 Of Israel's warriors, thus has said to Ammon. 
 " Why hast thou ventured to invade my land 
 And striven to fight against me?" — Ammon has 
 
 said, 
 " Because that Israel, in his lawless might 
 Fleeing from Egypt's bonds, overran my land 
 From Arnon even unto Jabbok ; now, in peace, 
 Let him restore the lands of which he robbed me." 
 
 N 
 
178 JEPIITHAH. 
 
 Now Jeplitliah unto Animon thus replies. 
 
 " Israel robbed neither Moab, nor yet Ammon, 
 But when he brake from the Egyptian's tyranny, 
 And, in the might of the Lord God of Hosts, 
 Honoured and blessed be that holy name, 
 The Red Sea rolled his trembling waters back 
 On either hand, and, through the wilderness, 
 His foot had trodden until he reached the limit 
 Of Kadesh, then did Israel send in peace 
 To his brother Edom, saying, let me pass 
 Straight through thy borders : Edom flatly refused 
 Though he was Israel's brother. Then Israel spake 
 To Moab : Moab's proud king, haughtily 
 Sent back the messengers, in scorn. So Israel, 
 Respecting their sovereignty, and the tie of blood 
 Remembering, on his wearied feet held onward 
 And skirted around Edom's land, and Moab, 
 Passing by the Eastern side, and trespassing not 
 One moment within their borders, but encamping 
 On the other side of Arnon, Moab's extreme limit. 
 Then Israel sent to Sihon, king of the Amorites 
 In his seat at Heshbon, asking frankly, 
 As equals ask of equals, leave to pass 
 Through the Amorite's land to his appointed rest. 
 Mistrustful Sihon collected an armed host, 
 Pitched in Jahaz, and presumptuously 
 Began the battle : but the insulted Lord God 
 Beat down his strength, bound fast the unrighteous 
 one 
 
JEPHTHAH. 179 
 
 And gave him, helpless, into Israel's hand : 
 And Israel took, and holds, all that the Amorite 
 Before time held, even from Arnon's vale 
 Northward to Jabbok, and from the wilderness 
 Westward to Jordan, a good land, and a large, 
 A land of fruits, a land of luxuriant vines, 
 And keeps it as his inalienable right. 
 Israel robbed thee not. God gave to him the spoil 
 And rooted out the Amorite, — Would' st thou 
 Possess it ? Would'st not thou possess 
 Whatever thy god Chemosh could confer ? 
 And so will Israel, pertinaciously, 
 And resolutely hold, whatever land 
 The dread Lord God, who alone can give or take, 
 Shall give to him, whatever be the nation 
 He shall drive out before him. — Ammon, art thou 
 Stronger than Balak, the renowned son 
 Of Zippor, king of Moab ? Can'st thou force 
 Another Balaam to curse but the utmost edge 
 Of Israel's host, when God shall bid him, perforce, 
 And despite of his rebellious will, to bless them ? 
 Did ever Moab within the three hundred years 
 Since Israel dwelt in Heshbon and her towns, 
 In Aroer and her towns, and in all the cities 
 Of the coast of Arnon, ever re-claim the land 
 Or ever strive to re-conquer it? — If it were not 
 God given, why during those three hundred years 
 Did'st thou submit ? Why didst thou not, in thy 
 daring, 
 
 n 2 
 
180 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 Recover them ? — I have not sinned against thee, 
 I claim the land as mine, and this thy war 
 Against me is most unjust.— Thou, the wrong-doer 
 Complainest of my wrong. — Within my hands 
 I place my life. The righteous Lord, the Judge, 
 Be judge this day between Israel and Ammon : 
 Retire thou from my land : — 
 
 So, unreservedly, 
 Gave I thy plain-spoken message. 
 
 jephthah. Does Ammon yield? 
 
 Does he recede from his unrighteous claim ? 
 
 asahel. Grinding his teeth, and gnashing in his rage, 
 No answer he vouchsafed. War, determined war, 
 No child's game, but relentless, unsparing war 
 Spake, though his tongue lacked words. 
 
 jephthah. Then War, War, War, 
 
 Shall be our battle-cry. We offered the peace 
 Of Justice, in our fearlessness. Since that Ammon 
 Rejects the offer, War to the extremity — 
 Elders and brethren, say, have I counselled well ? 
 
 mattatha. Were Ammon, but, on the instant, in my 
 gripe. 
 
 galeed. Jephthah ! we came to thee as men resolved 
 Dearly to sell our lives, or dearly to buy 
 
JBPHTHAH. 181 
 
 Our liberty. We stood like gaze-hounds in the 
 
 leash, 
 Ardent to hunt down oppression, and to shew 
 How far beyond endurance we have been galled. 
 We but restrained our eagerness, in respect 
 To thee. — Thou, in thy generosity, hast offered 
 Safe-conduct to our foe-man : would'st give him, 
 
 Law, 
 That we might run a fair chase at his heels : 
 But Ave would tear him down ^ere his fleet foot 
 Had started. — Lead us — lead us quickly on 4 
 We need no respite, know no fatigue, revenge 
 Has armed us to the teeth, and rankling hatred 
 Adds wings to our impatience. — Onward — on, on. 
 
 ithra. Courage lacks constancy, sedatest valour 
 Takes counsel with staid wisdom. Not less in 
 
 hatred, 
 Nay in more resolved hatred, more defined. 
 More calculating hatred, Ithra adds 
 His voice to all your voices. All that I counsel 
 Is cool, determined, strict, subserviency 
 To our experienced leader. As he shall step 
 Step we ; as he shall shout, shout we ; as he shall 
 
 strike, 
 In the extremest weight of all our vengeance, strike 
 Our weapons. In the justice of our cause 
 Fight we like men, not maniacs. Knit close 
 In body, heart, and soul ; compacted as one, 
 In God's might let us march, so God shall be 
 
J 82 JEFHTHAII. 
 
 Our vanguard and our rere-ward. 
 
 jephthah. Asahel ! 
 
 With Othniel head our march. My household 
 
 friends, 
 Stark warriors, and resolved, burn for the fight. 
 Guarded by them, dear unto each of them 
 As his own or his chieftain's life, my daughter shall 
 
 cheer, 
 And urge on their full speed. At Mizpeh 
 Of Gilead we shall meet. 
 
 My brethren ! 
 We as one man march on, gathering our strength 
 As vultures gather vultures to the feast. 
 Onward, then onward. — In the cause of God, 
 Of Israel, and of Gilead, onward, onward. 
 
 [They all pass oul.~] 
 
183 
 
 MIZPEH OF GILEAD. 
 
 KALED, PENINAH. AND VIRGINS. 
 
 peninah. Generous and merciful, 
 
 Oh how unlike his guilty persecutors 
 Is my noble boy. 
 
 virgin. And lovely Hadassah, 
 
 Before whose footsteps halcyon morning blushes, 
 And mid-day brightness kindless at her gaze. 
 
 peninah. Glad Fame has decked her with the glorious 
 hues 
 
18-1 JEPHTIIAH. 
 
 Of ministering angels in their joy. 
 (Tephtliah's bold spirit, tempered by a seraph, 
 Glows in a female bosom. He, the meteor-fire 
 Streaming athwart the tempest; she the evening- 
 
 star 
 Brilliant in the sun's effulgence. — Age has cramped, 
 And benumbed my spirit, butt the flush of youth 
 Iuforms me, as I dwell upon the scene 
 Hope decks so gorgeously. 
 
 mahudatha enters. 
 
 mahudatha. And the outraged boy 
 
 In manhood will not meditate revenge ? 
 Go hide within your narrow, loathsome dens, 
 Dig deep within the bowels of the earth, 
 Beg safety from the cold, relentless rock. — 
 
 peninah. And charity from the coward's slanderous 
 
 tongue. 
 Out on thee, wretch ; vile, venemous, yelping cur, 
 Snapping at the horse-hoofs, but fleeing howling 
 
 from 
 The bull's bold front. 
 
 HADASSAH AND OTHNIEL enter. 
 
 Heaven save Hadassah ! 
 
JEPHTHAH. 185 
 
 Lovingly we kiss your foot-prints, noble lady, 
 Gilead's fair princess, Israel's glorious hope. 
 
 hadassah. Rise, rise, I entreat you, as my joyous 
 heart 
 Cries, welcome, unto all ; or, grovelling in the dust 
 I must bow down. I do but come to you, 
 A hostage for my father's fealty, 
 A happy harbinger of victory, 
 Yet ye receive me as a conqueror. 
 
 peninah. And Jephthah comes not to his boyhood's 
 home : 
 And Jephthah prays not where his father prayed : 
 And Jephthah, overflowing in his gratitude 
 Praises not here, upon the guilty threshold 
 Which clave not into fragments when he fled, 
 The God which has returned him to his home 
 In prosperous safety ?— It is not well, my Jephthah ! 
 Peninah would have died rejoicingly 
 Had she but seen her Jephthah kneeling here. 
 
 hadassah. Weep not, nay weep not ; base ingratitude 
 And Jephthah are not of kin. This his loved home 
 Shall welcome him a glorying conqueror : 
 Here shall he bless the God of his forefathers, 
 Here shall he bless him, as, in his purest love 
 And superabounding gratitude, I kiss thee 
 My honoured, my revered, unknown, yet dearly 
 cherished, 
 
186 .TEPHTHAH. 
 
 My loved, loved benefactress. Warmer heart 
 Has not Peninali for her foster-child, 
 Than has my father for his foster-mother. 
 
 peninah. But one more pleasure has my God to give. 
 My child's fair fame stands nobly vindicated, 
 I have seen his child : even the bliss of heaven 
 Scarcely can overpass such happiness. 
 
 the people (without). Blessing and honour, ever 
 
 wait upon thee : 
 Be glory and glad remembrance thy reward : 
 Bravest among the bravest ; who hast heard 
 And answered. The great, the merciful God 
 Forgive us, and bless thee. 
 
 JEPHTHAH, ASAHEL, ITHRA, MATTATHA, GALEED, AND 
 
 others, enter. 
 
 jephthah. God of my fathers ! severe and terrible, 
 God of my fathers ! kind and merciful, 
 The One, the True, the Holy ! here I entreat 
 Pardon for all my waywardness, for vice, 
 For crime, for deadly sin. — Here, here abased, 
 I beg, I implore for pardon. As I do, freely, 
 And from my inmost soul forgive all men, 
 And utterly blot out from my memory 
 All sense of anger, me do Thou forgive. 
 Here, standing in my father's foot-prints, I, 
 
JEPHTHAH. 
 
 187 
 
 The foster-child of thy own providence, 
 
 Praise thee, and bless thee, honour thee, adore thee, 
 
 For mercies, each transcending my desert 
 
 As thou transcendest empty nothingness ; 
 
 For dark, mysterious mercies, chastisements, 
 
 Which have scourged me into thy own righteous 
 
 path, 
 And made me what I am, and raised me up 
 To be a benefactor to my loved 
 My honoured father's house ; to be the centre, 
 The rallying point of Gilead, of Manasseh, 
 The Standard of a just warfare. Here, before thee, 
 Here, upon the sacred threshold of my home, 
 The home of my forefathers, I renew 
 My sacred pledge. Here, I, advisedly, 
 Reiterate my oath to lead thy people, 
 As thou shalt smile upon our enterprise, 
 To victory, to freedom. O ! do thou, 
 God of our fathers ! severe aud terrible, 
 God of our fathers ! kind and merciful, 
 So prosper us, as we are true to thee. 
 
 kaled. Old age has bleared my sight, but I can re- 
 cognize, 
 That ardent voice. Lead me, Peninah, lead me 
 That I may die, in pleasure, at his feet. 
 
 jephthah. Not die, but live ; but live until extreme 
 age 
 
188 JEPHTHAII. 
 
 Shall lead us both to the grave. No, no, good Kaled ! 
 
 Jephthah is no death-messenger ; his life 
 
 Richly were recompensed in giving thee 
 
 A century of new life. Come, good old man, 
 
 Come, my kind foster-mother to my arms, 
 
 Lean your heads on my bosom that our tears 
 
 May mingle richly as our wonted joys. 
 
 kaled. I do not see thee, but I feel thy strong, 
 Thy vigorous arm ; I feel thy bounding heart 
 Throb as 'twould leap into mine. The God of 
 
 Heaven, 
 Our father's God, pour gladty upon thee 
 The wealth of heaven, the treasures of the earth : 
 Thy enemies bow down beneath thy feet, 
 Thy brethren glory in thy glorious greatness, 
 Gilead, Manasseh, Israel, swell thy praise. 
 
 peninah. Aud, oh that these glad tears 
 
 Were each a blessing, richer than the clews 
 Of Hermon and of Carmel. — When the sighs, 
 The tears, the groans, the shrill, the torturing 
 
 shrieks 
 The desperation, and the frantic agony 
 Of sinking Israel rose : — When cruel Ammon 
 To torture added torture, to revenge 
 Added revenge, to insult added insult, 
 Devising day by day, and year by year, 
 Re-refined torments : — Even when all sunk 
 Exhausted beneath the exhaustion of their fiend — 
 
JEPHTHAH. 189 
 
 ■ — Incarnated skill : — Even when prophet, priest, 
 And seer fell down abashed : then it was, that I, 
 
 curse, 
 Still shouted the curse of God, upon their gods, 
 And rang in their ears, of slow-footed, but resolved, 
 Relentless, retribution : and, they turned, 
 They turned to God, and God returned to them : 
 They turned to Jephthah, Jephthah returned to 
 
 them, 
 And my chilled heart grew warm ; my frozen limbs 
 Bounded with youthful vigour ; for I knew, 
 My boy would not degenerate from his blood, 
 Nor shame the milk that nourished him : and, I am 
 
 proud, 
 Proud, prouder than the eagle when the sun 
 Is bathed in by her eaglet, and he sails away 
 In his own, independent might. — Dear as to me 
 Art thou ; dear as to thee, thy child ; dear as to her 
 The life-blood of her heart ; so dear to all 
 
 Be all. In consanguinity, 
 
 Children of one — of one as good as dead, 
 Children of one — the promised, the given heir, 
 Children of one — the elected of his God, 
 Children of Jacob, Isaac, Abraham ; 
 March onward in your fierceness. Strike them 
 
 down, 
 Destroy, root up, crush the idolators. 
 
190 JEPHTIIAH. 
 
 jephthah. Were the impending strife 
 
 For spoil, for fame, for conquest, I should shrink 
 In terror thus to leave thee, my fair child, 
 The pride, the hope, the stay, the consolation, 
 Of every sorrow, every toil, of every wild 
 Enthusiastic vision, of every pleasure 
 That binds his offspring to a parent's heart : 
 But, righteous is my cause, asserting the right, 
 Defending the defenceless, sternly avenging 
 Wrong upon wrong, and to the utterance 
 Defying those who, impiously, have defied, 
 Insulted, and contemned the Lord God ; 
 Even in the midst of Amnion's throng, thou wert 
 Safe as at heaven's gate, and rejoicing cherub -hosts 
 Were a wall of fire around thee. Confidingly 
 I leave thee in the care of him, whose shield 
 Shadows the orphan. — Fare thee well, my child : 
 Glad, golden days of glorious happiness, 
 Of plenteous exuberance in all Israel's love 
 And veneration await thee. 
 
 had ass ah. Fare thee, fare thee well. 
 
 In the same holy confidence I quit 
 Thus thy paternal bosom. In the might 
 Of God thou marchest, in his victorious might 
 Gladsome be thy return. — Fare, fare thee well. 
 
 all. God of our fathers ! save us in thy mercy, 
 God of our fathers ! sanctify their valour, 
 
JEPHTHAH. 191 
 
 God of our fathers ! grant them victory. 
 
 JEPHTIIAH, ASAHEL, AND THE ELDERS paSS Out. 
 
 othniel remains. 
 
 hadassah. Farewell, yes, fare thee well. — Yet, 
 
 Othniel ! 
 There is a rebel spirit in my bosom 
 Whispering of danger, struggling against my strong 
 
 hope, 
 And choking my conviction. — I shall not hear his 
 
 prayer, 
 I shall not hear his evening benediction ; 
 And in the drear, dread silence of the night 
 Dreams of sad import may assail me. — Othniel ! 
 In that drear, dreadful silence, pray that my soul 
 May not shrink from her duty. — At that lone, 
 That weary hour, upon yon star in the zenith, 
 I will gaze fixedly, and thou wilt gaze 
 Thereon, and we shall bless, and strengthen, 
 And pray the one for the other ; looking upon 
 One glorious object in God's deep, dark sky, 
 And there our eyes shall meet in one glad hope. 
 
 othniel. The ever blessed, the ever- wakeful host 
 Of kindred spirits keep their steadiest watch 
 Around thee. May their balmy, argent wings 
 Fan you into tranquil slumber, and hope, and joy, 
 Hail your glad welcome of the roseate morn. 
 
192 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 Fear not, nay fear not. 
 
 hadassah. All is most strange around. 
 
 Those trees, yon hill, have never welcomed me 
 At morning's rise, at evening's setting ray, 
 Nor seen me lingering to greet the stars' 
 First twinkle in the glowing firmament : 
 And a strange sadness, sadness so strange as to seem 
 Ominous of evil days, broods over me. — 
 If in the strife of battle — if in the strife — 
 Where it is thickest, and where thou and my father 
 Are certain to be found, some furious foe 
 Should aim at our father's life, — be thou — 
 Oh be thou, Othniel ! as a second Providence 
 To save him. 
 
 othniel. So do the God of Heaven to me, and more, 
 If I desert him. In our heaviest strife 
 Our prayers will both be for Hadassah's safety. 
 Hadassah's prayers will draw down angels to com- 
 bat 
 In legioned strength around us. — Fare thee well — 
 The God of Heaven guard thee : — resolutely 
 I must flee from thee : — fare thee, fare thee well. 
 
 hadassah. Fare — fare thee well. Thus am I left 
 
 alone 
 Without a friend to listen to my sorrows, 
 Without a kindly bosom to respond to. 
 Or to cheer me in my anxiety. — Alone, 
 
JEPHTHAH. 193 
 
 Mournful; depressing thought— Alone — 
 
 peninah. Though chilled, though seared by age, by 
 misery, 
 Yet can we feel the throb of gratitude, 
 Yet can we answer in benignity 
 And love, to her, in whom love and benignity 
 Sit throned. 
 
 hadassah. All my visionary hope 
 
 Is now one blank. 
 
 peninah. Where gladness and victory, 
 
 Shall paint in living colours scenes of bliss. 
 Eager with hope, in dim futurity 
 I saw his glory : now, it's airy volumes 
 Are tinged with light, and life, and certainty. 
 Blithe, honied, music, wafted on the thankful, 
 The fragrant incense of a nation's prayers 
 Precedes thy halcyon dawn of happiness, 
 
 hadassah. So heaven permit ! 
 
 
194 
 
 THE MARCH. 
 
 JEPHTHAH AND WARRIORS. 
 
 jephthah. So has our speed 
 
 Been well sustained, and secret ; and we but breathe 
 For the impetuous onset. Well have ye all 
 As to one purpose fixed, held steadily 
 The onward course from Gilead, traversing 
 Manasseh unto Mizpeh, passing Mahanaim, 
 And overleaping Jabbok, as a rill, 
 At Peniel — blessed be our father's strife 
 When there he wrestled as a mighty prince 
 And prevailed against God's angel. — Here, from the 
 heights 
 
JEPHTHAH. 195 
 
 Of Ramath, gazing on the joyous plain 
 
 Eich in it's clustering vineyards ; far and wide, 
 
 Amnion's black tents pierce through the morning 
 
 mist, 
 Safe in their conscious strength, and, scornfully 
 
 scorning 
 The oppressed slaves vengeance. — Othniel ! 
 Veiled by yon curling mist -wreath, lead thy force 
 Under the shadow of the Eastern mountains 
 Ere the, now level, sun beams gild the vale, 
 Far southward as to Rabbath ; and when our shout 
 Of battle arises from Aroer, rapidly 
 Fall upon their flank. Touch not, nor food, nor 
 
 spoil, 
 No prisoner make, but hew them as they have hewn 
 God's heritage. — So speed thee — 
 
 Asahel ! — 
 He is not wont to be a laggard riser 
 When the game is on the wing. — Ho ! Asahel ! — 
 
 GALEED AND MATTATHA enter, With ELROTHAN. 
 
 galeed. Chieftains, all hail ! — May this our earnest 
 be 
 A goodly omen of success. — The earliest dawn 
 'Ere the owl had slunk to rest, has given us 
 Far goodlier game than we sought. Say, infidel, 
 What errand aroused you earlier than the sun ? 
 
 o2 
 
196 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 elrothan. Ten thousand thousand curses blast thee, 
 wretch, 
 That liest thus ! Call you these crawling vermin, 
 These famished dogs, these lurking, slinking slaves, 
 Who only can creep peeping from their dens 
 While night can save them, Gilead's mighty chief- 
 tains ? 
 By all the gods ! I cannot find a man 
 Among this mockery of nature's lords. 
 Are these your chiefs ? Fit chiefs, fit warriors. 
 
 mattatha. Have Ammou's women tutored thee ? Thy 
 tongue 
 Cries shame upon thy sword. Curb in that weapon, 
 Or I shall teach thee patience. 
 
 elrothan. False, hunger-eaten cur ! 
 
 Patience ! —Elrothan sullies his renown 
 By looking on thee, vile Egyptian hound. 
 
 jephthah. We but waste patience ; — greater were thy 
 renown 
 Than of Balak the son of Zippor : were it greater 
 Than thy tongue-valour, Manasseh sets thee free. — 
 Go, tell the king of Amnion's locust-swarm, 
 'Ere thy winged speed can scarcely have conveyed 
 Our bold defiance, Jephthah follows thee. 
 Look to thy safety, 
 
 elrothan. Thou Jephthah ? thou ? 
 
JEPHTHAH. 197 
 
 Tliou the bold son of Gilead ? Thou the man 
 That hast held Amnion at defiance ? Thou ? — 
 No, I disdain thy bidding. Bear it thyself 
 If derision do not daunt thee, gigantic chief 
 Among pigmies. 
 
 asahel enters. 
 
 asahel. In the name of God, lead on. 
 
 Mine eyes have seen them siezing upon their spears 
 Impatient for the assault. Fame has flown swifter 
 Than our precipitous speed, and Jephthah's name 
 Has added myriads to our numbers. They are 
 daunted. 
 
 elrothan. Liar and slave ! 
 
 asahel. Slave? — Liar? — 
 
 jephthah. The intemperate tongue 
 
 Does but defile itself. Haste with thy news. 
 
 asahel. I have heard their counsel. I have seen them 
 lead, 
 In the pride of youth, and beauty, and renown, 
 The eldest offspring of their rapacious king 
 To the blood-stained altar of Chemosh. I have seen 
 The impious father, in fanatic zeal, 
 Plunge deep in blood his suicidal hand 
 
198 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 And smear the image of his devil-god. 
 Stung with abhorrence, with my little band 
 I dashed in the midst : we overthrew their idol, 
 And seized their victim ; swiftly to arms they flew 
 And still press on. — 
 
 elrothan. And has my god been cheated of his 
 prey ; 
 And ye exult ? — Detested, accursed dogs ! 
 Whose God can only combat where the hills 
 Wind their dark shadows around his coward head, 
 Nor dare attack us where our thunderer 
 In cloud and whirlwind rolls his iron car. 
 Ye, ye exult ? — and think you that my god 
 Shall want a victim ? Detested, accursed dogs ! 
 He shall not want a victim to excite 
 His seven-fold rage : thick-steaming from the ground 
 Rivers of blood shall lure him to the slaughter, 
 And horror wither your effeminate souls, 
 As thus I give him Ammon's princely gore 
 
 (Stabs himself,) 
 Curse, curse them, curse them, Chemosh ! curse them. 
 
 (Dies.) 
 
 jephthah. Dreadful — most horrible atrocity ! 
 Oh, that my strength were as an angel armed, 
 To sweep their thousands from the defiled earth. 
 Give but, O God of Heaven ! to my sword 
 These foul, these infamous idolaters^ 
 Give Israel his glut of vengeance — let me this once, 
 
JEPHTHAH. 199 
 
 Let me this once deliver my loved country, 
 And I will sacrifice to thee whatever 
 Shall from my home first meet me — 
 
 Onward —onward — 
 The God of vengeance — the Lord God of Hosts 
 Terrify and overthrow them — on, on, on. 
 
 They rush out to the Battle. 
 
 
200 
 
 MIZFEH OF GILEAD. 
 
 HADASSAH, PENINAH, MAACHAH, AND VIRGINS. 
 
 hadassah. And yet he comes not. — On the field of 
 death 
 Why dost thou linger ? — Unwonted 'tis with thee 
 To satiate thine eye, in cruelty — 
 Why contest thou not ? — The chilling dews of night 
 Hung heavily on me when, with straining eyes, 
 And in breathless agony, I, in vision, saw thee 
 Like the red whirlwind sweeping across the desert. 
 The gleaming lightning of thy plumed helm 
 Danced, as a meteor on the angry bosom 
 
JEPHTHAH. 201 
 
 Of the vexed ocean. Slaughter and destruction 
 Rolling their livid volumes, tinged with blood, 
 Preceded, and the wasting pestilence, 
 Wrapt in night's mantle, followed — 
 
 The avenging host 
 Circling thy banner, bounded in fury onward; 
 Tempest, and hail, and thunder winged with fire, 
 Ploughed through the foe — the thick, the envenomed 
 
 cloud 
 Shrank from thee, and a deadly rain of blood 
 Tracked out thy pathway. — 
 
 Heaven, in secret heard me 
 Earnestly pray. — My still-imploring hands 
 Sank not, fatigued : my still-entreating tongue 
 Ceased not petitioning : my streaming eye, 
 Glancing alternately towards Heaven and thee, 
 Quenched not it's fervour, until I joyously saw thee 
 Towering still foremost : low, beneath thy feet 
 The neck of Ammon piteously outstretched, 
 And Heaven's glad victory encircling thee. — 
 And yet thou comest not. — 
 
 Envious heights ! 
 Why do ye raise your threatening barriers 
 To intercept me ? Cedars ! bow your heads, 
 That, in the chequered intervals, my eyes 
 May drink delight — 
 
 He comes not yet, Peninah. 
 
 peninah. Yet have they heard his cheerful trumpet- 
 call 
 
202 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 hadassah. Waits he yet 
 
 To count his loss ? — He ever thus would wait 
 And last return ; though I with fearful eyes 
 Longed to embrace him. — Othniel too arrives not — 
 He never stayed. — Pale, in his clotted blood 
 Perhaps he lies, and Jephthah mournfully 
 Bewails him. 
 
 peninah. The last resounding note 
 
 Of the shrill trumpet scarcely has re-choed 
 From our deep defiles : the eagle's strenuous wing 
 Could not 'ere this have borne them. 
 
 hadassah. Victory and affection 
 
 Had outstripped eagles. — Some deadly barb 
 Has drank my life-blood ; and I, here lingering, 
 Staunch not their wounds. 
 
 virgins. Hark ! the proud trumpet-clang 
 
 Calls us. — Hark ! — gladness swells the note. 
 
 hadassah. Oh, I will drink, in unsated ecstacy 
 That thrilling sound. 
 
 peninah. So Amnion's revel rout, 
 
 Triumphed over Israel, and the woe of thousands 
 Was to one man a banquet. This our joy 
 Lights the death-torch for widowed myriads. 
 
 virgins. Envious, Peninah? 
 
JEPHTHAH. 203 
 
 peninah. Not envious, yet regretting man should live 
 By his fellow mortal's death : but yet rejoicing 
 My Jephthah has been the honoured instrument 
 Of God's righteous vengeance. Light and revelry 
 Long were estranged from your keen-sparkling eyes. 
 
 yiEGiNS. We knew not then brave Jephthah would 
 arrive, 
 We knew not then Hadassah would arrive, 
 We knew not then Peninah would be joyful. 
 
 peninah. *Tis but the gorgeous, hectic flush, betoken- 
 ing 
 A setting sun. 
 
 maachah. Nay, nay, not so Peninah, 
 
 The gambolling zephyrs frolic through the bowers 
 Thick-strewn with roses. Merrily we dance 
 To their blithe breathings. As when your native 
 
 forests 
 In stately cadence wave their majestic heads 
 To the free winds of heaven, you rejoice. 
 
 peninah- Aye, they have borne like me the bitter 
 blast, 
 And they like me have sheltered the afflicted. 
 They see the flowers smiling at their feet 
 When churlish winter flees before laughing spring, 
 And I too live, to see my noble boy 
 Rich in the honest spoil of victory. 
 
204 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 hadassah. Do you not hear a sound of acclamation ? 
 ^Tis like the distant murmuring of a torrent 
 On the waveless air of night. Hark ! — hark again ! 
 Is it my father ? 
 
 peninah. Nay, my child, he cannot 
 
 Yet be so near. 
 
 hadassah. But yet he does arrive — 
 
 Israel has been delivered ; my father-land 
 Is free. 
 
 (She goes out) 
 
 virgins. And go not you, Peninah, 
 
 With us to welcome him ? 
 
 peninah. In the tumultuous throng- 
 
 He might overlook the features which once lighted 
 Joy in his eye ; and I could not sustain 
 Even unmeant neglect. In calmer hours 
 My blessing shall await him. Peninah 
 Was all in all to him, and now is Jephthah 
 The stately oak around which my withering branches 
 Cling fondly. 
 
 virgins. Kaled awaits to greet him 
 
 Upon the farthest ridge which skirts their path. 
 
 hadassah re-enters. In the cedar grove 
 
JEPHTHAH. 205 
 
 Our minstrels with resounding melody 
 
 Wait to receive him. Maachah with thee 
 
 I lead the measure, and Peninah, thou 
 
 Throned in the honoured seat of Gilead, 
 
 Shalt be the queen of our homage. Hadassah leads 
 
 to thee 
 Thy foster-son, and tears of gratitude— 
 A son's blest gratitude shall lave thy feet. — 
 
 virgins. One comes in haste, 
 
 O'erstrewn with dust, and panting with dispatch. 
 
 a warrior enters in haste. 
 
 hadassah. Come they ? 
 
 warrior. I ran with instant speed from Othniel. 
 
 hadassah. And came you not from my father, 
 
 And he with him ? Why ? wherefore comes he not ? 
 He should have been the harbinger of Jephthah, 
 Borne on the glowing wings of victory, 
 Not sent his tiding by a limping herald. 
 
 warrior. I left him faint and sinking with fatigue, 
 Returning wearied from the close pursuit 
 Of Ammon, fleeing to the uttermost bound 
 Of Minnith, and the vineyards of the plain. 
 
206 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 He found me, for they bad left me with the wounded, 
 
 Yet fresh and vigorous. With speed, he cried, 
 
 Back to Hadassah. — 
 
 Oh, bid her, as she values Othniel, 
 
 Not meet her father. 
 
 hadassah. And he is wounded; I alas, not near. 
 
 w t arrior. He is most safe, 
 
 But bard exertion overmatched his strength. 
 
 hadassah. Not meet my father ? 
 
 I would have met him, had they borne him back 
 Naked and bleeding ; would have kissed his wounds, 
 Would have partaken of his deepest woe 
 And drank the dregs of his calamity, 
 Why must I not participate in his joy ? 
 
 warrior. As it were he spake 
 
 Upon the fragile confine of the grave. 
 
 hadassah. Oh, I should be the scorn of infamy, 
 The very make-game of detraction's tongue ; 
 Be called, an envier of my father's worth 
 And not his child. — Why, why not meet my father ? 
 
 peninah. Events of unusual moment 
 
 Could in that hour, when nature's suffering 
 Contended with a victor's exultation, 
 Lead so to think or speak. Mysterious as it is, 
 Be advised. 
 
JEPHTHAH. 207 
 
 warrior. He bade me earnestly, 
 
 And had his strength responded to his soul, 
 The flaming minister of heaven had lagged 
 Behind his speed. 
 
 hadassah. Why stayed you not ? 
 
 warrior. He said, " Be swift," and I obeyed his word. 
 
 peninah. Do thus, dear child. 
 
 Meet not your father distant from this home, 
 But await with me in the portal : 
 If you should err, it will but make delight 
 Sweeter by such restraint. — Nay, be advised. 
 Impatience often mars enjoyment's edge. 
 
 hadassah. "lis nature's call that prompts me towards 
 my father. 
 
 warrior. He, fainting, said I urge her not to meet 
 him. 
 
 hadassah. I must, I should strive to curb expecta- 
 tion 
 And hold in fetters all my earnest hopes. 
 A cloud overshadows now my day of joy. 
 Pass in, that I may commune with myself. 
 
 (They pass into the house.) 
 
208 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 Fearfully bewildering communing. Either I must 
 Refrain from honouring Ammon's conqueror, 
 Or do displeasure to my — to my dear, fond, kind, 
 My beloved, devoted Othniel. — Oh, my poor, poor 
 
 heart, 
 It is a rending struggle, and I dare not 
 Trust myself to myself, — but must let resolution 
 Wait upon the moment's impulse. 
 
 (She passes in.) 
 
209 
 
 THE TRIUMPHAL SONG. 
 
 'Tis no peaceful voice I hear, 
 'Tis no friendly tongue that calls. 
 Amnion howls o'er Israel's bier, 
 Ammon shouts, and Israel falls, 
 Falls beneath the conquering foe. 
 
 Darkness shrouds our prostrate land, 
 Darkness, dense as Egypt's night : 
 Death and Terror, hand in hand, 
 Sweep through the serried ranks of fight : 
 Drear Desolation and her horrid train 
 O'er fair Manasseh's fields, o'er Gilead's mountains 
 reign, 
 
210 . JEPHTHAH. 
 
 Woe, woe, distress, destruction reign ; 
 Gaunt famine gnaws her rankling chain ; 
 Shrill-shrieking fear, grim, wan despair 
 Fill with their wail the wailing air j 
 Pale, speechless horror, fixed aghast, 
 Glares o'er the carnage-drenched waste 
 
 In keenest, bitterest agony. 
 No burning tears suffuse his eye, 
 No widowed mother hears his sigh, 
 No weeping virgin hears his moan, 
 No hapless orphan's ear shrinks from hi& dying 
 groan. 
 
 Foul Amnion reigns. 
 
 A homeless, heartless, hopeless band, 
 Trembling, dejected, mute they stand, 
 Nor dare uplift the frenzied eye. 
 
 
 Hope, lovely, lingering, angel Hope 
 Soft, soothing nurse of human woe r 
 
JEPHTHAH. 
 
 211 
 
 Drops balm on retrospection's sting, 
 Bids conscience sheathe her angry teeth, 
 Gives strength to meek devotion's wing, 
 Bears them from this dark vale of death, 
 And leads them back from Superstition's fane, 
 To tread the flowery paths of righteousness again. 
 
 They weep, — they pray 
 
 Hark — Hark — I hear 
 Havoc's fell chariot thundering near 
 I hear a shriek — I hear a cry — 
 I hear the peal of victory. 
 
 I see, against a griesly band, 
 Firm Jephthah resolutely stand.— 
 I see him still — I hear him shout- 
 Ammon flees in hideous rout — 
 Slaughter leads her legions on^- 
 Exult — Exult — the battle's won. 
 
 r 2 
 
212 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 Loud, the sounding hills reply, 
 Glory be to God on High : 
 Glory be to God on High : — 
 God has given us, victory. 
 
 *%%.***%$:*%: 
 
 Hark \ the merry timbrels sound, 
 Clashing cymbals ring around ; 
 Israel's harp, and Israel's voice 
 Responsive sing — rejoice, rejoice. 
 Rejoice, rejoice, the valleys cry, 
 Rejoice, rejoice, the hills reply; — 
 Earth bounds with glee, huge ocean heaves, 
 Delight gleams o'er his glancing waves, 
 Yon splendid orbs exulting sing, 
 Glory to heaven's eternal king. 
 
 See, the victor comes in state, 
 Elders on his steps await ; 
 Virgin voices, soft and sweet 
 Warrior tones in cadence meet 
 
JEPHTHAH. 213 
 
 Deep, and full, and clear, and high 
 Roll the broad floods of harmony, 
 And sieze, and bear away my soul. 
 
 Welcome — Welcome — Welcome. — 
 
 JEPHTHAH, THE ELDERS, AND WARRIORS enter. 
 
 A loud shriek is heard from the house. 
 peninah and virgins. Hold — hold her 
 
 hadassah rushes in, followed by the virgins. 
 
 hadassah. My father ! my dear father ! 
 
 asahel. Back — back — 
 
 jephthah. My child ! — My child ! 
 
 This — Oh no — no — 
 
 hadassah. 'Tis I — Hadassah — Why avert your face? 
 
 JEPHTHAH. Go gO — 
 
 hadassah. Oh, tell me — tell me— tell me, oh, my 
 father — 
 
214 .JEPHTHAH. 
 
 Has some malignant passion bleared my look 
 That yon shrink from me ? 
 
 jephthah. Oh, my child, my child ! 
 
 Would I had died 'ere thou had'st met me thus. 
 
 hadassah. No, no, my father ! — I am still your child, 
 As fond, as doting as the child you loved — 
 Why dost thou shun me ? 
 
 jephthah. Alas ! alas, my daughter ! 
 
 You are in league against my happiness ; 
 You mar my peace, you check me in my triumph, 
 You, you plant daggers in your father's heart. 
 
 hadassah. And have I lived, unhappily, to hear 
 My father say that I offend his sight ? 
 
 jephthah. No, no, my child — I pray you go away, 
 My heart still beats with yearning tenderness : 
 I love you — as a father — but — I pray you go. 
 
 hadassah. And with your frown upon me ? 
 
 jephthah. O ! my eternal father ! 
 
 Why snappest thou the dearest tie of nature ? 
 Why — Oh, would that I had a friend, 
 
 To tell— 
 
 I dearly, dearly, do most dearly love you. — - 
 — That dreadful vow. 
 
JEPHTHAH. 215 
 
 hadassah. What vow ? Why dreadful? 
 
 jephthah. Give me a little space. — 
 
 The fit of sorrow soon will have overpassed, 
 And I shall speak — I will enter in 
 
 And tell — Can, can I enter there 
 
 Where Gilead sate, where my revered father 
 Will frown upon me wheresoever I turn, 
 Will scowl, will choke my trembling utterance, 
 Will curse his child, as I condemn my own ? 
 
 hadassah. What deadly spirit has overpowered 
 you?— 
 I never saw my father so oppressed, 
 Never saw him thus. — 
 
 jephthah. But you shall see him stand 
 
 With impious courage, at God's holy altar, 
 Shall see him bind a human sacrifice, 
 Shall see him tear the vesture from her heart, 
 That heart which glows in fondest love towards 
 
 him ; 
 And while her placid eye still beams upon him, 
 Shall see him strike.— through that kind faithful 
 
 heart — 
 You shall see this. 
 
 hadassah. I never saw a human sacrifice. 
 
216 JEPIITHAH. 
 
 jephthah. You — you must see it — you must — you, 
 
 Hadassah ! 
 Must see a father rob his only child 
 
 Of life — for I for he has sworn an oath, — 
 
 And he must fulfil his oath. 
 
 hadassah. Am I in a horrid dream ? 
 
 I thought that I had heard my father speak to me 
 
 Unkindly 
 
 You — you — my father ! would not sacrifice 
 An only child ? 
 
 jephthah. I am most resolute. 
 
 hadassah. I never, never frowned upon j^ou, my 
 father ! 
 I never, when the faults of childishness 
 Called down displeasure, never did I say, 
 Never thought you harsh. I gloried in my father; 
 No sound was sweeter music than his tongue, 
 No happiest countenance e'er wore such glee, 
 No kinder bosom lulled me to my rest : 
 It was my father, nursed, looked, spoke to me. 
 I slept, I waked, I thought, I lived, for him, 
 And still I think he will not injure me 
 •"Though he has said it. — Will you slay me, father ? 
 
 jephthah. I have so sworn. 
 
 I lifted up my frantic hand to Heaven, 
 And swore that I — that I would sacrifice 
 
JEPHTHAH. 217 
 
 Whatever first should meet me from my home. 
 You met me. — 
 
 — You have drawn upon my head 
 This dreadful curse. 
 
 hadassah. You will not slay me. — I have heard you 
 say, 
 My mother, dying, charged you to protect me. 
 You told her then : — I was, alas, too young 
 To feel the terrors of a mother's loss, 
 That you would, in the path of rectitude, 
 Train me to be a lamp in Israel. 
 With pious fervour oft you gazed upon me, 
 And while the swollen tear trembled in your eye 
 Oft called me by that beloved mother's name, 
 Yet now — Alas ! oh Jephthah ! oh, my father ! 
 Must you destroy me ? — 
 Must you to satisfy an impious oath 
 
 Break other oaths ? 
 
 You swore upon my dying mother's lip 
 To love me. — When sickness hung upon me, 
 When foul disease spread languor o'er my cheek, 
 When these sad eyes, now glistening in tears, 
 Then scarcely could bear the sacred light of heaven, 
 Then scarcely could penetrate the films of death 
 Then scarcely could see the parent I adored ; 
 Oh, then you hung, immersed in misery, 
 Anxiously watching o'er my wretched couch : 
 Oh, then you loved me, when a loathsome corse 
 Was all you had. Now health invigorates, 
 
218 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 Now joy, now transport dance upon my brow, 
 Now — Oh, my honoured father ! 
 
 You will not slay me. 
 
 jephthah. Which way I turn, all, all is misery, 
 And I, of all men am the most unhappy. 
 If I forbear to execute my vow 
 I then am criminal ; and if I dare 
 With impious violence to drag my daughter, 
 And offer an unholy sacrifice 
 
 I then am criminal. Too much 
 
 I have idolized thee, oh my ill-fated child. 
 
 othniel enters. 
 
 Oh 
 
 Oh, that this earth would gape, would tear me from 
 This fatal suffering — 
 
 — Oh, my lord, my king ! — 
 My friend — my father — 
 
 — Oh, my lord, my king ! — 
 
 jephthah. So do my God to me as I fulfil 
 My oath. 
 
 othniel. My father ! 
 
 jephthah. So have I sworn — so God has pleased to 
 
 visit 
 
JEPHTHAH. 219 
 
 My oath upon me. — Holy be his name, 
 Though written in my blood. — 
 
 — He is most just 
 Although I see not, with my earth-bleared sight, 
 His object, or his end. — Yet, it is just, 
 And I must bear the penalty of my sinful, 
 My mad idolatry of my poor child — 
 But, God is just — 
 
 jiadassah. And Hadassah is his child : 
 
 She is God's child, and Hadassah has the spirit 
 Of Jephthah's child, and of God's child. She can 
 
 yield 
 Steadily, gratefully, whatever God 
 Has given of life, and of all that can endear 
 Life to her soul : and — O ! my heavenly father ! 
 So sanctify my end that it may glorify 
 Thy holiest mercies ; for thou art the God 
 
 Of truth, of justice, of mercy. 
 
 — Yet, oh, that I had striven 
 In communing with thee, instead of trusting to 
 My own frail, wilful will. — 
 
 — Yet am I submissive 
 
 To thy pure, thy righteous will. 
 
 —So be it— My father ! 
 
 It is not thy will, it is not thy self-willed deed, 
 But thou art called, as Abraham, to atone 
 For his sin, by Isaac's blood : — and if my blood 
 Could be an expiatoiy offering for the vile 
 Idolatry of Israel ; could be the grateful gift 
 Of my loved father-land to the God, whose arm 
 
220 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 Has, by my father's hand, redeemed my country, 
 I were but too, too blessed, and would joyously, 
 Eagerly add to thine oath — 
 
 — Yet — oh, my father ! 
 I have too fondly dreamt of earthly hopes ; 
 Am even now too maddened in the whirl 
 Of pleasure in thy triumph, to be a fit, 
 A calm, unstruggling sacrifice. — Give me, I pray 
 
 thee, 
 Time to recal my senses ; to sober down 
 My aspirations ; to quell, to sacrifice 
 My rebellious life-craving. — 
 
 — "With my virgin friends 
 I would bewail my sad virginity, 
 For two short months, within yon dreary hills, 
 There to subdue, in grief and penitence, 
 Each heinous sin, and so to prepare myself 
 The better for God's glory — 
 
 — Bear with me 
 I pray thee ; and I will assuredly return, 
 And thou shalt do with me according to 
 Thine oath. 
 
 jephthah. In bitterness, my child ! 
 
 In grievous bitterness, must I bewail 
 Thy virginity, and my childlessness. — Depart 
 In the peace of God, and in God's peace, serenely 
 Return. — 
 
 He passes out. 
 
JEPHTHAH. 221 
 
 ithra. Throw off these gorgeous attributes of joy, 
 And sit with dust and ashes on your heads. — 
 "We now have seen the extreme boundary 
 Of sublunary suffering and bliss. 
 We find how closely together intertwined 
 Are sorrow and gladness. 
 
 All pass out, excepting hadassah and othniel. 
 
 othniel. I, — I have sacrificed — 
 
 I— I have sacrificed thee — 
 Yes, it was I, — but fainting nature stayed me, 
 Or I had been a wall of adamant 
 To hold thee back. — 
 
 — Hadassah ! — let us flee — 
 The time, the circumstance all favour us. — 
 I know the track of every mountain torrent, 
 I, in some darkling cave can lodge you safely. 
 
 hadassah. Add not, nay add not to the bitter pang 
 Of parting life. — I, with utmost fervency, 
 Still cling to you : the fountains of my tears, 
 My blood, my life, my spirit, all are yours : 
 But I am still a daughter. He gave me life, 
 He would have given me happiness, too large 
 For mortals. — Never parent's heart 
 
 Yearned towards a child as towards me, Jephthalr's 
 
 yearned. 
 All righteous Heaven 
 
222 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 Demands me. For this sacrifice 
 
 The Ammonite was conquered. — 
 
 my country's persecutor 
 
 Fell at my father's feet ; and I am happy, 
 Blessed indeed to be the testimony 
 
 Of a whole nation's thanks ■ 
 
 — grieve not then, Othniel I 
 We yet shall meet — ■ 
 
 othniel. Never more to part 
 
 We have met — He shall not drag thee 
 
 Like a brute beast thus circling thee 
 
 I brave his vengeance. 
 
 hadassah. Heaven' s vengeance rides 
 
 Indignant on the winged thunderbolt 
 Which blasts ingratitude. As his child he reared you, 
 And as his child he loved you. — I entreat you, 
 Submit with a child's reverence. 
 
 othniel. Oh God ! — My God ! — 
 
 Dreadfully mysterious are thy unseen ways. 
 
 They pass out. 
 
 
223 
 
 THE VICINITY OF MIZPEH. 
 
 OTHNIEL. 
 
 mahudatha enters from behind. 
 
 mahudatha. So do I meet with fortunate occasion 
 To pursue my purpose. A ready instrument 
 
 , And in apt mood for tampering with, I find. 
 Now, Jephthah ! look to thy safety. 
 
 othniel. She met him. — 
 
 And I am thus bereaved of my bride 
 After my service ; after we were plighted, 
 Were as each other. 
 
224 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 mahudatha. Renowned Otlmiel I 
 
 The red right-hand of Israel's princely host, 
 A host of princes, every prince a host : 
 There the true spirit of a warrior spake. 
 By what right does thy chief dare rob thee of 
 Thy dearest hope ? 
 
 othntel. By the right of strength : but I am strong 
 as he is 
 And as fearless. — If I instantly pursue 
 And bear her off, despite of his malediction, 
 Who, who shall wrest her from my nervous grasp ? 
 
 mahudatha. A virgin she was doomed to sacrifice : 
 If not a virgin. — 
 
 othneil. Polluted dog ! — thy own malignant thought 
 Choke thee ! — By Heaven ! if thought or counsel 
 Of harm to her once pass thy coward lip, 
 I will tear thee limb from limb. 
 
 mahudatha. I did but muse, 
 
 And in the overflowing of compassion 
 Thought aloud. — There are extremest points 
 Where vice and virtue border upon each other, 
 And what is vice, in common circumstance, 
 Shall become heroic virtue, when circumstances 
 Unusual call for correspondent action : 
 It is the object sanctifies the deed. 
 
JEPHTHAH. 225 
 
 othniel. Her purity would save her amidst a host 
 Of savage aliens. — So do my Maker to me 
 If aught of evil prompt me. — No, I would guard her 
 As dragons guard barbaric treasuries ; 
 As eagles hover o'er their aeries 
 So would I watch around the sanctuary 
 Where I would place her; and, beneath her feet, 
 When death should summon us, my bones should 
 
 he 
 Enshrined. 
 
 MAHUDATHA. Glorious patriotism 
 
 Had found a worthier path. 
 
 othniel. How mean you? 
 
 mahudatha. One man takes one path up the moun- 
 tain's height 
 Another hews another. 
 
 othniel. Sententiously, 
 
 And darkly as an oracle you speak, 
 
 mahudatha. But when the mountain's crest has been 
 attained 
 Little heeds either by what path he reached it : 
 Or when the racer's task has been achieved 
 Who counts the length of the steps upon which he 
 
 flew? 
 Means are but means, the homely scaffolding 
 
 Q 
 
 
226 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 Of goodliest structures, and the work itself 
 
 Shines not less wondrously, though the labourer's 
 
 hands 
 Were rough, and his tools unsightly. 
 
 othniel. I charge thee speak undisguisedly. 
 
 mahudatha. But even now 
 
 Thou hadst slain me. 
 
 othniel. Speak, and I will hear intently. 
 
 MAHUDATHA. Wouldest tllOU 
 
 Compass Hadassah's safety ? 
 
 othniel. I would deliver her, 
 
 And save her father. 
 
 mahudatha. We expect a prophet 
 
 Like unto Moses. — Seraphic purity 
 Glows not more brightly round the Eternal's throne 
 Cherubic mildness smiles not more graciously, 
 Calm dignity in Angel's gesture shone 
 Not more majestically, than sweetness, grace, 
 And pure ethereal intelligence 
 In her are all embodied. — Fearlessness, 
 Valour, heroism, or whatever else 
 Is man's own glory, could not be selected 
 More perfect than in Ammon's conqueror. 
 (Othniel' s, not Jephthah's, was the ready hand 
 
JEPHTHAH. 227 
 
 Which smote the foe-man in his fiercest pride : 
 Aroer were nought, had Minnith not been subdued,) 
 And might not Heaven decree the progeny 
 Of such an union should lead on our armies 
 To conquer the nations ? 
 
 othniel. Thou hast stricken a chord 
 
 Which trembled when I touched it. — I have some- 
 times 
 Framed such a distant vision. 
 
 MAHUDATHA. When the oppressed Hebrew 
 
 Sunk to the earth, He did not hesitate 
 To slay the oppressor, although the Hebrews had 
 
 been 
 Nourished by Egypt. Ehud did not scruple 
 To slay a tyrant. 
 
 othniel. He was a foreigner. 
 
 mahudatha. All tyrants must be aliens to all 
 The nations of the world. Home-born or distant, 
 They are the wild beasts to be hunted down, 
 And I would, I would in a brother's breast 
 Sheathe deep my sword, if ever he inflicted 
 Wrong on his fellow-man. — Patriotism 
 Is the most noble, glorious, and heroic. 
 Of human virtues. Grovelling, despicable, 
 All people count endurance of a wrong : — 
 But I overweary you ; my talk strays far away 
 
 q2 
 
228 JEPIITHAH. 
 
 From love and tenderness, congenial thoughts 
 For younger, and "warmer hearts : yet am I young, 
 And warm in heart towards virtue suffering, 
 Though rude in speech. 
 
 (Steps back — but listens.) 
 
 othniel. He loves me, though his speech 
 
 Be blunt, and inconsiderate whether it wound 
 Or soothe by it's independent honesty, 
 And I should thank him, for that he means well. — 
 He sware an oath, unholy in itself, 
 Itself unbinding by the moody rashness 
 With which it rushed unbidden to the world. — 
 Should I not cut the thongs of bigotry 
 And bid his soul, go free ? — Were it not worthy, 
 Honest, virtuous, aye holy in it's energj^ 
 Where reason blinds herself, to bind her with fetters 
 'Till she unhoodwink herself ? or, should she fail, 
 'Tw r ere most unreasonable to allow blinded reason 
 Freedom to maim herself, — We bind the brute, 
 Or even destroy him, if his wildness yield not 
 To hunger, or to chastisement.-— Man, mad, 
 Or, in perversity of reason, reasoning ill 
 On one point, although in all else in sane health, 
 Is, on that point,- as a brute, and can alone, 
 As his fellow brute, be bound in wholesome chains, 
 And perforce, be rendered harmless. The impious, 
 The adulterer, the murderer, are injurious, 
 
JEPHTHAH. 229 
 
 And dangerous madmen. Destructive in their mad- 
 ness, 
 Unsafe to all, all, for the common safety, 
 Adjudge them worthy of death. — Were it then sin, 
 To attain an end so righteous as to save 
 Youth, beauty, innocence — by wholesome restraint, — 
 By — by — diverting the current of his thoughts — 
 
 By my tongue cannot master it's utterance — 
 
 By 
 
 (He passes out, talking confusedly.) 
 
 mahudatha. The venom works. So speed it. 
 
 (He passes out.) 
 
230 
 
 A STREET IN MIZPEIL 
 
 {Sitting in Sackcloth,) 
 
 peninah. Oh, woe, woe, woe, misery unutterable, 
 Intolerable woe, worse, worse than death, 
 Worst of all frightful ills that can befal 
 A widowed mother : wretched is my lot, 
 Intolerably wretched ! 
 
 mahudatha enters, 
 
 mahudatha. Who, who art thou thus heard above all 
 else 
 
JEPHTHAH. 231 
 
 In piteous wailing ? 
 
 peninah. Woe, woe, anguish unutterable ! 
 
 mahudatha. What direful increase of calamity, 
 Can, in this hour of national distress, 
 When all but thou forget their personal griefs 
 In the public sorrow, thus overpower thee ? 
 
 peninah. Woe, woe — my child, my miserable child. 
 
 mahudatha. If remedy there can be for thy grief, 
 Behold the Judge proceeding to the Gate, 
 To administer justice : he will do thee right. 
 
 peninah. He strive to lift my load of wretchedness? 
 Oh, woe, woe, woe! 
 
 jephthah enters. 
 
 mahudatha. Go, wretched suppliant, 
 
 Implore his help. 
 
 peninah. Oh, woe, woe, woe ! 
 
 jephthah. What is thy woe ? 
 
 peninah. Unutterable sorrow ! 
 
232 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 jephthah. Bise, wretched mourner: rise, be com- 
 forted. 
 
 peninah. I had a child, but I have one no longer. 
 
 jephthah. If Heaven have pleased to take that life 
 away, 
 Which Heaven alone had power to bestow, 
 Take comfort : many are the ills of life 
 And he escapes them best, who soonest dies. 
 
 peninah. I had a child : he was an only child, 
 And I, a widow. In that tyranny, 
 Now overpast, the righteous hand of Heaven 
 Called back niy husband's spirit to it's home, 
 Leaving me poor, and old, and comfortless. 
 I felt — that was the common misery, — 
 The countless ills of poverty and famine, 
 The countless terrors of a desolate life ; 
 And, grief upon grief increasing, in my distress 
 I sold to one, he was my next of kin, 
 My child's inheritance, my whole subsistence. 
 Even that poor pittance was, by the Ammonite, 
 Wrenched from my grasp. To rescue us from death 
 I begged the humbling bread of charity, 
 And now he takes my child, the child that I have 
 
 nursed, 
 The child I looked upon, as the grateful staff 
 Of my old age. — A bond-man he will be, 
 And I, an outcast — woe, woe, woe is me — 
 
JEPHTHAH. 233 
 
 jephthah. Just or unjust his claim, twice, twice two- 
 fold, 
 Will I repay him. 
 
 peninah. He will not be repaid, 
 
 But for a bond-slave he will have my child. 
 
 jephthah. Suspicion is the offspring of thy fear, 
 And misery traduces more than malice. 
 He is not lost to the common ties of nature. 
 
 ITHRA, GALEED, MATTATHA, AND OTHER ELDERS enter. 
 
 ithra. Once more we come. 
 
 jephthah. I could have spared your friendship 
 
 From this it's importunity. My hours 
 Are occupied. 
 
 mattatha. Jephthah, we have made you 
 
 Our Judge, and must insist upon attendance 
 In that high office. 
 
 jephthah. Trouble me no more ; 
 
 Ye do but importune me, where I cannot, 
 I dare not yield. 
 
 ithra. We know that you were compassionate. 
 
234 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 jephthah. And am so still. 
 
 peninah. Bear witness that lie is so 
 
 His kindness unto me. — He will redeem my child 
 From bondage. — Elders of Manasseh ! 
 Persuasion from your tongues must be doubly potent. 
 Where I, a poor widow, have so fully sped : 
 For ye are princes. 
 
 jephthah. Ye all are fathers. Do but, as your chil- 
 dren 
 Are beauteous, innocent, virtuous, ennobled, 
 By warm, enthusiastic, patriot zeal ; 
 And in the o'erflowing of parental pride, 
 Ye clasp them to your hearts; think, thus feels 
 Jephthah. 
 
 Outstretched upon their couches, 
 
 When death, grim death, his clammy finger places 
 
 Upon their lips, and biting desolation 
 
 Nips,ln the blossoming, your first-blown flowers 
 
 Your only flowers, the flowers o'er which you hung 
 
 In silent rapture ; the dear, cherished buds 
 
 You nursed, you tended, watched their opening 
 
 charms, 
 Watched them at noon, at eventide, at night, 
 When blighting airs, when chilling dews fell thick 
 And threatened to destroy them : — think, when the 
 
 scalding tears 
 Sit on your eyelids ; thus is Jephthah' s heart 
 Racked. — I pray you speak no more. — 
 
JEPHTHAH. 235 
 
 I am your chief. 
 
 ithra. 'Tis an unholy offering. 
 
 galeed. We will redeem it with our choicest flocks, 
 Our herds shall bleed. The rivers of all Judea 
 Shall flow with blood. Spice, frankincense, and 
 
 myrrh, 
 All the rich treasures of the plundered east 
 Shall oppress the altar. 
 
 jephthah. I cannot. 
 
 mattatha. If human blood, if innocent blood must 
 expiate 
 This dreadful vow : take, from our bosoms take 
 Our dearest daughters. We will give to Heaven, 
 If Heaven require it, all our progeny, 
 Our spoil, our wealth. — She pleaded for us, Jephthah ! 
 When thou wert stern. 
 
 peninah. You are compassionate, 
 
 You have saved my child : the sorrow of a stranger 
 Waked from her forced, unnatural lethargy 
 Your natural pity. Oh, my judge, my king ! 
 Have mercy upon the child of your own blood, 
 Your flesh, your bone, your life. 
 
 ithra. We kneel, we soil ourselves in dust before 
 thee 
 
236 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 Entreating — 
 
 jephthah. It is the hour when Justice 
 
 Awaits me to administer her dictates : 
 There ye will see I can be as merciful 
 As rigorously just. 
 
 peninah. Refuse you then ? 
 
 jephthah. Distressed suppliant, 
 
 I will avenge you. At the City Gate 
 I sit in judgment. 
 
 peninah. (unveiling) Dost thou not know me, 
 
 Jephthah ? — 
 I am no widow : I have no captive son : 
 I — Jephthah ! — Years have paled my wonted bloom, 
 And misery sucked the health-glow from my cheek — 
 I — Jephthah — am Peninah. — These withered arms 
 Have held you. — Shall they be held up 
 In supplication ? 
 
 jephthah. I am most grateful, and do love 
 
 And honor thee, my foster-mother. 
 
 peninah. I once knew 
 
 When Jephthah was most kind, most merciful. 
 There was a time when Pity, upon that brow 
 Sate like a Spirit in the beams of heaven 
 To succour mortals. — The most loathsome reptile, 
 
JEPHTHAH. 237 
 
 Hideous, unclean, was shielded by your presence 
 From the urchin's torturing. — You have fiercely 
 
 striven 
 When but a boy, with men, with bearded men 
 To save the oppressed : — and I — Jephthah ! it was 
 
 I, 
 
 Cherished the compassion which ennobled you. — 
 I, tutored the rising of the daring spirit ; 
 I, curbed the war-horse in his young career 
 Taught him forbearance, when he should forbear, 
 And, taught him vengeance, when he should be 
 
 vengeful. 
 And I can yet plead, in the still, calm voice 
 Of gentlest mercy. — Do not stain your hand 
 With innocent blood.-— You yet are merciful. — 
 Brilliant amidst the dew of nature's incense 
 The penitent Sun arises, celestial beams 
 Play round your brow, the awakening of heaven, 
 When from the veil of dark, mysterious clouds 
 The effulgence of the Deity is poured, 
 Glows on your cheek : — you give her to my prayer ? 
 
 jephthah. I, in the awful presence of my Maker, 
 Raised up my hand : — nor will I lower it 
 Though angels weep. 
 
 peninah. Will the tiger 
 
 Slay her own young ? Will the gaunt hyaena 
 Feast upon his offspring? — I was your mother, 
 Jephthah ! 
 
238 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 When you had not a mother. — I took you 
 From the cold breast, you unavailingly, 
 And piteously strove to milk. — From my own breast, 
 I estranged my own, maturer, yet sucking child, 
 Gave you my own daughter's food. 
 
 ithra. Listen, Jephthah ! 
 
 'Tis nature pleads. 
 
 jephthah. I have sworn. 
 
 mattatha. To be a murderer • — 
 
 You sware to offer up a sacrifice — 
 If it were lawful, — so all oaths are made. 
 
 jephthah. I sware, and I recede not. — Mine was the 
 oath, 
 I, alone, know it's import. Thus I sware : 
 Thus I perforin my vow. — Give way to me. 
 
 pentnah. I — Jephthah ! was a mother" 
 
 To thee, a child of shame : — more than a common 
 
 mother's right 
 Have I. — 
 
 ithra. We, who once sinned against you, 
 
 Entreat you not to sin against yourself, 
 Entreat you not to sin against your child, 
 Entreat you not to sin against your God. 
 
JEPHTHAH. 239 
 
 jephthah. I have closed my ears 
 
 To aught but duty. Resolutely suffering 
 I endure. — 
 
 peninah. Will you destroy your child ? 
 
 (As Jephthah is passing out.) 
 
 peninah. Unrelenting ? — so, unrelentingly 
 I curse thee. — I, thy mother, here adjure 
 Against thee the stores of vengeance : — be thy birth 
 Blotted from record : — cursing fall upon thee : — 
 Murder and bloodshed dog thee : — may the sword 
 
 Thirst for thee : if thy field 
 
 Yield thee an increase, blight and mildew 
 Gnaw through the ear : — murrain and rot, 
 Rage in thy flocks and herds : — heaven's pregnant 
 
 dew 
 Fill thee with blains : — locusts and venomous flies 
 Rise with the sun, and in his setting beam 
 
 Float venom : Leprosy, 
 
 Cover thy head : — Consumption waste thee : — 
 Gnawing rheumatism — all the dire plagues 
 Beset thee : — steam from the bottomless abyss 
 All Egypt's curses : — and, to fill thy cup, 
 Thy future daughters be debauched, and vile, 
 Thy sons be vagabonds — and — I, Peninah, pray it 
 May madness seize thee : — 
 
 I, Jephthah ! took thee up 
 And nourished thee : and now I curse thee. — 
 
240 JEPHTHA.H. 
 
 Madness hurry thee on, until the dread fiend 
 Arm thine accursed hand against thyself. 
 Die thou abhorred, a detested suicide. — 
 
 I will lead against thee 
 The bands of Ephraim : even now they pass 
 The fords of Jordan : I, thy foster-mother, 
 Will lead them. 
 
 (She rushes out.) 
 
 mittatha. O ! Israel ! — to your tents t — 
 
 Is this the man we hold in reverence ? 
 Is this the monster which enslaves our land ? 
 Is he not bloody, cruel, barbarous ? 
 Is he not lost to every lovely tie 
 Of human nature ? — Israel, to your tents I 
 
 asa h el. And saw you not, inconsiderate Mattatha, 
 How nature struggled ? — I stand for Jephthah. 
 
 mattatha. I, for Israel : 
 
 I, for my country : I, to save my home 
 From the brute license of a tyrant's will : 
 A tyrant, who became a conqueror 
 But by the valour of the men he scorns ; 
 And who has conquered, but that he may wallow 
 In every crime that stains humanity. 
 What will he spare ? on what will he have mercy 
 Who thus begins his march of cruelty ? 
 
JEPHTHAH. 241 
 
 Shall we obey this thirsty maniac ? 
 
 Shall we submit to his authority 
 
 Who has no power to controul himself? 
 
 Up, Israel, up, and shew yourselves like men : 
 
 Up to your tents ! 
 
 (The Elders rush out.) 
 
 the people, (Without.) War, war, eternal war 
 
 Against Jephthah. — War, war ! — 
 
 MAHUDATHA. This too shall work for me. 
 
 Othniel will sting the deeper ; these more surely, 
 And Ephraim consummate the deed of vengeance : 
 Then, Jephthah ! spurn me. — 
 
 Nothing though I am : 
 The unheeded reptile bites more certainly 
 Than the opposing lion ; and my subtlety 
 Shall harm thee more than the enraged tongues 
 Of thousands. 
 
 (He passes out.) 
 
 *****#***# 
 
242 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 kaled enters, leaning upon a child. 
 
 kaled. Lead me, lead me. 
 
 Yet but a few short moments can I strive 
 
 And hold out against death. 
 
 Let me lean 
 Where he must pass. 
 
 (The child leaves him.) 
 
 jephthah enters. 
 
 kaled. Hear me, hear me. 
 
 jephthah. Who throngs me ? 
 
 kaled. Your dying foster-father, 
 
 Old Kaled. — Him you oft leant upon 
 When he was strong. — Oh, stay this frantic haste \ 
 Stay, — stay. 
 
 jephthah. I cannot listen. 
 
 kaled. It is a dying tongue, 
 
 A feeble tongue, an unpersuasive voice. — 
 Oh, would I now could speak — Jephthah ! — 
 
 Jephthah ! 
 Spare, spare your child. 
 
 jephthah. I know your kindness, Kaled! — I am 
 grateful. 
 
JEPHTHAH. 243 
 
 kaled. It is a crime, it is no holy deed ; 
 It is no dictate of our pure religion ; 
 It is a crime, it is a crime, my Jephthali, 
 Nay, go not. — I am stepping from this world, 
 Into a world unknown, baffling our fancy 
 Of terrible or good. — I am now 
 
 No ardent lover pleading for his bride ; 
 No wretch imploring for his worshipped gold, 
 But, I am here a suppliant for your soul, 
 For you, for yours. — I feel the mist of death 
 Hang heavily upon me. — 
 I cannot utter what my spirit prompts — 
 I die — O, Jephthali ! — do not, do not slay her. — 
 
 jephthah. Oh, have I not enough of misery? — 
 Where'er I go, whate'er I look upon, 
 All, all is wretchedness, and woe, and death, 
 Unlimited, unceasing. — 
 A hapless alien came I to the world, 
 Shame, and repentance wept upon my birth, 
 And I shall go hence in their company. 
 
 kaled. Dark — dark — faint — faint. — 
 
 jephthah. I will return to you 
 
 And give you comfort. 
 
 kaled. No — leave me not in death, 
 
 Quit me not, Jephthah ! 
 
 r2 
 
244 
 
 
 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 
 
 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 I will return. 
 
 
 KALED. 
 
 Spare, 
 
 ( Throwing himself forward, 
 
 knees, crying) 
 spare her. — 
 
 clasps Jephthah'i 
 (and dies.) 
 
 jephthah. O, God of Heaven ! restrain me. — 
 
 Let thy thunder 
 And blasting lightning strike me. 
 Hide me, earth ! 
 Rocks, mountains ! bury, bury, bury me ! 
 Oh, Kaled ! Kaled ! My father ! Oh my father ! 
 
 (Throws himself upon the corpse.) 
 
 
245 
 
 A ROOM. 
 
 jephthah, sleeping. 
 
 othniel enters. 
 
 othniel. He is a tyrant. — But, I was found by him, 
 A poor, deserted infant : he nourished me 
 With his own daughter : taught me to call him, 
 
 father, 
 Oft twined our little arms together, and fast bound 
 
 them 
 With gentlest flowers : — but — he is a tyrant ; 
 He is a tyrant, cruel and barbarous, 
 In this resolve, most resolutely cruel, 
 And I as cruel if I interpose not 
 
246 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 Whatever strength high Heaven has given me. — 
 So near — and asleep ! — one, well directed blow 
 Releases all. — 
 
 — I could look upon death 
 In any shape, — but tremble now 
 At my own footstep. — 
 
 Shall I, assassin like, 
 Steal on the dead, when nature in security 
 Locks up the senses ? — Senses which, awakened 
 Will lead him on to irretrievable, 
 Unending anguish. — 
 
 jephthah. Poor little one, 
 
 It's dear angelic gladness, lights up again 
 Dreams of my own child's childhood. — 
 
 othniel. Can he dream 
 
 Of her he means to kill ? 
 
 jephthah. Again thou smilest ; 
 
 Dear little rogue. I clasp thee to my heart 
 And kiss my pretty cherub. — Wilt thou be 
 The staff of aged Jephthah ? — Yes, thou wilt, 
 Sayest thou, my renewed life ? 
 
 othniel, Conscience, be still — 
 
 Be still ! — Shall I slay — murder him 
 In his dream of joy? — 
 
 jephthah. My pretty boy 
 
JEPHTHAH. 247 
 
 Dear little rogue — my rosebud — my playful kid — 
 
 othniel. Sleeping, he little recks how his foster-child 
 Steals like a serpeut into his solitude 
 
 To sting him to sting his benefactor — 
 
 His father — 
 
 — Awake ! awake ! 
 And face me, — there is your sword, — 
 Defend yourself against me — 
 For I am armed against you for my bride 
 Whom you tear from me. — 
 
 — ■ Stand — defend yourself — 
 I would not, like a coward, murder you 
 In sleep. 
 
 jephthah. I could have borne a vision from the dead 
 With firmer resolution, than I thus meet 
 The eye of Othniel. 
 
 othniel. Draw, — defend yourself. — 
 
 jephthah. Strike as I am — unarmed.— I will stand 
 motionless. 
 
 othniel. Surrender to me my bride, 
 
 Or, I will seek her in your hidden soul. — 
 I came not here to prate. — Surrender her 
 Or — I am desperate. — She is my love, 
 My bride, my wife. — You have no power o'er her, 
 She is bound to me. — Surrender her — or — 
 
248 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 jephthah. Young man ! stand back; there are ex- 
 tremest limits 
 To human endurance, — leave me. 
 
 othniel. Or with your life, or with my bride. 
 
 jephthah. Young man ! the man who never feared 
 to meet 
 Death in all shapes, stands unresisting here 
 And unarmed before you. — I recapitulate 
 No benefits bestowed : as a man I meet you, 
 And — as a stranger ; one, I know not more. — 
 I swerve not. — I am in the forward path 
 Of a stern duty. Withstand, or withstand me not 
 I pass on to meet my daughter. 
 
 othniel. I interpose 
 
 As Aaron between the living and the dead, 
 I see you, dying in this sacrifice, 
 I hear the voice of blood ascend to Heaven. 
 
 jephthah. I am fast bound to Heaven, by an oath, 
 An oath, written down and ratified in heaven ; 
 An oath, for which I slew the Ammonite, 
 An oath, for which I gained my country's freedom, 
 And I will pay the utmost skekel of 
 The debt I owe. — Stand not, irresolute — 
 Or act, or leave me. — Know that Providence 
 Protects all those who tread the inflexible; 
 
JEPHTHAH. 249 
 
 Strict, perilous path of duty. — Therein do I tread 
 Though it were paved with scorpions. — Go, in peace. 
 
 othniel. I now am calm as thou art, resolute 
 As thou art, in my straight-forward path 
 Steady as thou art, swerving not until Heaven 
 Prohibit. — So shall we part, or meet, 
 In war, or in strictest amity, as Providence 
 Shall guide, or overrule. Be thou in peace. 
 
 {He passes out.) 
 jephthah. Peace has ill slept upon this weary heart. 
 asahel enters. 
 
 asahel. Dark, dreary, and oppressive — the wan sun 
 Weak and unwilling, struggles ineffectually 
 Against the brooding mist. Thick, impenetrable 
 
 clouds 
 Lowr portentously as though nature laboured, 
 And shuddered in her course. So waningly the day 
 Looked down from Eden, when, guilty and miser- 
 able, 
 Weeping unavailingly, our sad first parents 
 
250 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 Felt thorns and thistles spring beneath their 
 
 feet. — 
 So, resolutely striving, the first man, 
 Bearing within his bosom unquenchable 
 Remorse, toiled on his way, and, in his manly 
 
 strength, 
 Endured, and submitted ; bearing the heavy yoke 
 In hope. — would, would there were here a hope. — 
 
 jephthah. Say on, 
 
 I can bear aught. Naj r , falter not, — thy tongue, 
 
 Candid and not impetuous, has often 
 
 Spoken truth, in fearlessness : sweet, yet bitter 
 
 truth — 
 Oh, that my tongue had been as wholesomely curbed. 
 Say on. — 
 
 asahel. Mattatha and the elders are enleagued, 
 
 And straitly sworn ; and they have brave, and re- 
 solved, 
 Tried, war-hewn, followers. 
 
 jephthah. So it is well with them, 
 
 They know their duty, as I too well know mine. 
 
 asahel. Indignant at thy insolent contempt 
 Of them in joining battle, and thus grasping 
 The laurel from their brows, hot Ephraim, 
 Strong in their thousands, have already secured 
 
JEPHTHAH. 251 
 
 The fords, and in their rage, impetuously 
 Hurry onward, threatening, with hostile fire, 
 To burn thee and thy house. 
 
 jephthah. And is it well in them, 
 
 In them, Joseph's children, womb-brethren of 
 
 Manasseh 
 To envy outcast Jephthah ? — I, and my people strove 
 With Amnion, did they then deliver me ? 
 Did I not put my life within my hands 
 And save my country ? Wherefore would they come 
 Against a man bowed down by suffering ? 
 It is not well, and God shall hold them in 
 His stern rebuke. 
 
 asahel. And — 
 
 jephthah. That averted eye, 
 And tremulous lip, tell me more eloquently 
 Than volumed words, thy more important warn- 
 ing— 
 Thou tellest me, the two months have elapsed ; 
 That, faithful to her word, my daughter now 
 Descends from the mountains : that, in it's lone- 
 liness, 
 Turned from, deserted, almost abhorred, the altar 
 Of my Lord God, holy and righteous name ! 
 Awaits : — and I do honour 
 And love thee for thy silence. 
 
252 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 — I would sit 
 And meditate my prayers — 
 
 — Go thou, my son 
 As God shall guide thee. 
 
 asahel passes out. 
 jephthah sits absorbed in prayer. 
 
253 
 
 AN OPEN COUNTRY. 
 
 mahudatha, watching. 
 
 mahudatha. It is not done,— and I, still unrevenged, 
 Live yet to glut my nourished appetite. 
 
 Though I yet have failed to sting, 
 
 By arming against thy^life the secret hand 
 Of the orphan thou hast reared ; thy injuries, 
 Thy scorn, thy contempt, long-cherished, and close- 
 hugged, 
 And brooded over, shall not rest unrequited. — 
 The Amalekite forgets not and forgives not, 
 Though he might feign to be an Israelite, 
 
254 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 And through long years await his determinate 
 
 end : 
 And though there lived but one, that one is stronger 
 In his stealthiness, than iron -sheathed Ammon in 
 
 his car : 
 And, but I strive to make my vengeance rankle, 
 And fester, and agonise, and torture, my own 
 
 arm 
 Should burst the film of my hypocrisy, 
 And the veiled Israelite, start up, in his strength, 
 A proud, revengeful Amalekite. — 
 
 Be still.— 
 
 othniel enters. 
 
 mahudatha, Art thou resolved ? — 
 
 othneil. Resolved, and daring, 
 
 And trusting on thy ready arm and heart 
 For counsel, and for instant aid. Thy band 
 Is steady and is true ? 
 
 mahudatha. True, firm, and steady, 
 
 And impetuous as fasting tigers. 
 
 othniel. Thou knowest well 
 
 Each path and pass. Lead me, on the instant, 
 
 on, — 
 We will surprize, and carry her off, and hold 
 
JEPHTHAH. 255 
 
 The tyrant at defiance. Thou knowest their way? 
 
 mahudatha. Honouring thy worth and thy affection, 
 
 I have watched 
 Their sacred haunts ; and, as their mournful wail, 
 At morn, at noon, at eventide arose, 
 Have dashed the salt tears from my scalded cheek, 
 For I wept — in wrath I wept : — and, but for thee, 
 Had borne them off. Whither ? whither hostile 
 
 foot 
 Had never tracked them. — They were even now 
 Descending from the hills, and cannot yet 
 Be disentangled from them. — Rooted to the earth, 
 Like sturdy wrestlers poised against each other 
 In mortal struggle, o'er a precipitous path 
 Stand frowning rocks, and darkly around them 
 
 leaning, 
 Rigid with anxious, breathless interest 
 Overhanging mountains hem in the appalling scene ; 
 And countless defiles, twining through their bowels, 
 Lead to a chasm, where nature, in her sport, 
 Retiring from the labour of creation, 
 Has hewn a mimic semblance of all glorious, 
 Resplendent visions. Through that narrow cleft 
 Thy bride must pass : thence, spirited away, 
 Her nearest fellow shall but miss her friend 
 Unknowing how. 
 
 othneil. Lead, lead me rapidly. 
 
 Delay not, — point me out that secret path, 
 
256 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 And I will instantaneously seize, 
 And bear her off. 
 
 mahudata. So shall I greedily 
 
 Flesh my rich vengeance. 
 
 [They pass out.] 
 
 ********** 
 
257 
 
 A RAVINE, 
 
 HADASSAH, AZUBAH, AND VIRGINS. 
 
 hadassah. Fare ye well, loved hills. 
 
 Streams, woods, and groves. In your still solitude 
 Listening well pleased, God hath sent down, in 
 
 mercy, 
 His holy calmness ; and, subdued by him, 
 All earthly joys, all earthly vanities, 
 Absorbed, unvalued, died in my secret soul. 
 I only now live, move, and act in him, 
 And covet only how best to contemplate, 
 
258 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 To adore, to serve him. — Sublimely as ye rear 
 Cloud-piercing summits ! your age- whitened forms. 
 And drink the pure dews from the transparent air, 
 And greet the first blush of ascending morn, 
 And glow refulgent in the mid-day sun, 
 And lave ye in his evening-tempered ray, 
 So shall my soul, above sublunary bliss, 
 Raised and sublimed, drink in intelligence, 
 And, communing with angels, be as they. — 
 Fare, fare ye well, mountain, and hill, and glen, 
 Torrent, and stream, and zephyr, fare ye well. 
 
 azubah. Would that such calm, such blest serenity 
 Dwelt in our bosoms. Joyous in thy own joy, 
 Blest in thy bliss, happy in thy happiness, 
 Pure in thy purity, wilt thou ascend 
 A seraph among angels : we, bereft 
 Of joy, of hope, of comfort, sitting aghast, 
 Can only aggravate our desolation 
 By contrasting it with thy glory. 
 
 virgins. Oh, alas ! 
 
 Leave us not thus. 
 
 hadassah. It is God's holy will. 
 
 We must bow down submissively, and bless, 
 And thank, and love, and worship, and adore. 
 Soon must we part ; the night of sorrowing 
 Has ushered in the morning of delight, 
 Soft, and unruffled by an evil thought. 
 
JEPHTHAH . 259 
 
 azubah. We have been together, 
 
 As little birds reared in one kindred nest, 
 Have slept, have waked, have wept, have smiled 
 
 together, 
 And now. — 
 
 hadassah. We part but for a short, short 
 
 time; 
 Ye still to buffet with the wild commotion 
 Of life's rude surge, to steer your fragile barks 
 Through shoals and quicksands ; I, to soar aloft, 
 To ride on the zephyr's winglet^ or to mingle 
 With the glad choristers which round the throne, 
 Of God, in the inmost heaven, glorify 
 And honour, and delight in him, whose love, 
 The heaven of heavens in it's immensity 
 Cannot contain. 
 
 OTHNIEL, MAHUDATHA, AND FOLLOWERS, Creep WTOUnd 
 
 them. 
 
 othniel. So still, so fearless, while around her, all 
 Are rent with auguish ! This it is to die 
 In the glad certainty of future life. 
 
 azubah. I cannot thus part from you: one common 
 fate 
 Has bound us and shall bind us still, for ever. 
 Let me die with you ; let me die with you. 
 
 s 2 
 
260 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 OTHNIEL, MAHUDATHA, AND FOLLOWERS, VUSh in and 
 
 seize hadassah : the virgins flee. 
 
 hadassah. Otlmiel !— Mahudatha ! — opposite 
 As the cherubic host and the swart bands 
 Of the abhorred Prince of Darkness, how have ye 
 Consorted in this weak, this treacherous, 
 This ungrateful, this unheroic, this unaffectionate, 
 This stealthy, this degrading snare ? — 
 
 — Bad man ! from thee, 
 From these,— outlawed by even the rejected, 
 The enemies of all : as Ishmael wild, and fierce, 
 Untameable, and only faithful each 
 For self-advantage in all crime ; this covert deed, 
 Fit deed for obscurity but too congenial 
 To the hand, head, heart, which prompted, planned, 
 And dared to put in practice : from ye all 
 What other harvest could have been looked for ? — 
 But that the mighty oak should have borne hemlock, 
 That the majestic cedar should have yielded 
 Cockle, and darnel, that the generous lion, 
 That the dauntless war horse, should have enleagued 
 
 with such, 
 The insensible earth would weep. — 
 
 Here, alone, I stand 
 Unarmed, unaided, entrapped, and at your mercy, 
 Yet fearless, yet untrembling, confident, secure ; 
 For the dread God of Heaven, against whom 
 
JEPHTHAH. 261 
 
 Ye stand arrayed, in this your sinfulness, 
 
 Shields, guards, protects, and, if need were, would 
 
 even 
 In his all-crushing mightiness, trample upon 
 And bruise ye into dust. — Before him, ye 
 Are but a spider's web, and the princely eagle, 
 Soaring in the sun-light, fans ye into nothing. 
 
 I onward go, in God's strength, despite of yours. 
 
 mahudatha. The accursed coward ! — I choke ! — some 
 other — 
 
 (He slinks away with his followers.) 
 
 othniel. Ashamed, confounded, and abased, 
 
 Before God and thee I beg. — Seeing the impene- 
 trable, 
 Unfathomable depth of man's dark heart, 
 He knows the purity, the intensity 
 Of the love which prompted me : — thou only can'st 
 Know motives by my actions. Self-condemned, 
 I stand before thee, convicted : base, and low, 
 As thou art high and honoured, in my inability 
 To comprehend thy exalted, thy holy obedience. 
 Vile that I have been, not to have foreseen 
 That she whom I loved with such blind idolatry 
 Would think, would feel, would act, as only angels 
 
262 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 Can act, can feel, can think. Abjectly 
 I bow before thy rebuking. 
 
 hadassah. I am most sacred, I have been set apart, 
 And devoted unto God. All earthly love, 
 Filial, connubial, still in my bosom live, 
 But refined and made celestial. As angels love 
 I love thee still ; as Angels, in their pity, 
 "Weep over erring mortals, I will weep 
 For the crime of thy affection, and will pray, 
 As with archangelic fervour, that repentance 
 May purify thy heart, so that thy sin 
 May be effaced and forgotten. 
 
 My dear, dear friends ! 
 The Sun's ascent bids us to hasten onward 
 Lest we overpass the hour of sacrifice. 
 All shall attend me to the holy ascent ; 
 Thence must I pass alone. Yet not alone, 
 When my God calls me, and when angel bands 
 Do honour to my footsteps, — 
 
 Pass we on, 
 
 HADASSAH, AZUBAH, AND THE VIRGINS 2^SS Out 
 
 OTNIEL follows. 
 
 ******** * * 
 
263 
 
 THE PLACE OF SACRIFICE. 
 
 ITHRA, GALEED, AND OTHERS. 
 
 jephthah enters, followed by asahel. 
 
 ithra. Jephthah ! 
 
 We beg not, we threaten not, but firmly, 
 Respectfully, sincerely, nay lovingly, as Chiefs 
 Of Israel, of Manasseh, and of Gilead, 
 Or, would it move thee more, thy friends, thy 
 
 brethren, 
 Bound by the dearest ties, the dearest oaths, 
 Between us, and thee, and God : we set before 
 
 thee 
 For the last time, the dreadful consequences 
 
26-i JEPHTHAH. 
 
 Of thy pernicious deed. Thou art our Judge, 
 We are thy subjects, strictly bound, and pledged 
 Each to the other : each to serve, to honour 
 Each to the utmost. — ¥e gave thee all our trust, 
 Followed thee frankly ; did, and dared, as thou 
 Did'st bid us do, and dare.— We give thee all our 
 
 trust 
 Even now ; love thee, confide in thee, and will 
 To the uttermost limit of all human daring, 
 Obey thee, and defend thee. — But, strain not 
 Our fealty too tightly. — Thou art strong, 
 And brave, and valiant \ head, and hand, and heart, 
 One skilful warrior. Golden-tongued repute 
 Delights to do thee honour, and thy might, 
 Gives might, gives confidence, gives energy, 
 Even to ten-thousand mighty ones, and thou, 
 In each reflected, art, as one irresistible, 
 Unconquerable giant. — Snap but this bond 
 
 What art thou ? Idle were it 
 
 To paint thy uttermost helplessness. A head 
 
 Lopped from it's limbs, foetid, offensive, 
 
 And only to be hidden. — This wilt thou be, 
 
 If in disgust, in sorrow, and in shame, 
 
 We quit thee for this crime. — A few, short years 
 
 And the dank grass upon the oblivious grave, 
 
 May whisper our reproach, and let it die : 
 
 But, Jephthah ! shall the wide, reproaching world 
 
 Pointing at thee and us with the finger of scorn, 
 
 Cry shame, and hoot us ? Shall the Gentile dogs 
 
 Moab, and Ammon, Philistia, Amalek, 
 
JEPHTHAH. 265 
 
 Say that we burnt their bestial images, 
 
 Overthrew their altars, hewed down their sacred 
 
 groves, 
 Held in abhorrence their idolatry, 
 And execrated their cruel sacrifices, 
 
 And then insulted the God of purity, 
 
 Of mercy, and of pity, by a loathed, 
 
 A human sacrifice ? — No, Jephthah ! no — 
 
 That God of mercy weeps ; — we weep our prayers 
 
 For thy child, 
 
 jephthah. Let me pass on, I pray you. 
 
 galeed. Jephthah ! my little ones 
 
 Owe their lives to God, and to thee. Would God, 
 
 that they, 
 And I, and all of us had never lived 
 To see this dreadful day !— If it were a duty, 
 If the oath be sacred, if it be ratified 
 In heaven's archives — break thy wicked oath 
 And throw us all upon the plenteous mercy 
 Of the dread Lord God, holy and merciful. 
 
 peninah enters. 
 
 peninah. Talk not to him of mercy : Mercy died 
 When he first drew breath : his heart, his soul, his 
 
 blood, 
 Are seared, and exist not ; and he stands, the 
 
 laughter 
 
266 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 The exultation of demons — 
 
 Murderer ! 
 
 Trample on the breasts which fed thee. 
 
 (She throws herself down in his path.) 
 
 mattatha enters with the conspirators. 
 
 mattatha. Strike — strike — he knows no mercy — do 
 not spare — 
 But strike — strike home — 
 
 hadassah enters, othniel folloiving, they recede. 
 
 had ass ah. So, daunted stood 
 
 The Evil one, at Michael's rebuke. — Refrain, 
 And be thyself the exemplar of that mercy, 
 Which does not glibly sit upon the tongue 
 And leave the heart vindictive and malignant. — 
 And would'st thou sit upon the throne of God ? 
 Would' st thou usurp his high prerogative 
 And constitute thyself the immaculate Judge ? — 
 Search in thine own heart, wring from out it's core, 
 Each deep-black speck, each inmost, secret sin, 
 And when thine own heart is all purity, 
 Then judge thou righteously thy fellow man. — 
 
JEFHTH"AH\ 267 
 
 In the mysterious guidance of God's hand, 
 Have Jephthah and his daughter been selected 
 As beacons for all time. — To his high will 
 Resigned, submissive, glorifying ever 
 His mercy, and his goodness : in his goodness 
 And in his mercy, purified from all 
 Terrestrial craving ; living, but to render 
 Honour to him, and glory ; ready either 
 For death or life as he shall bid me die 
 Or live in him, I bid you all, farewell. 
 
 Ye best can shew your kindness, by submission, 
 I my affection, as I now submit. 
 
 Father ! ascend we : — Holy Angels guard us, 
 And God looks down with pleasure in our faith. 
 
 They ascend to the Altar. 
 
 othnjee. Oh, let me rest upon thy faithful heart, 
 And bear this trial as a chastened child. 
 
 (He leans upon asahel.^ 
 
268 
 
 AT THE ALTAR. 
 
 hadassah puts off her head-iire, and kneels. 
 
 all. O ! God of Heaven ! in thy mercy hear, 
 O ! God of Heaven ! in thy mercy save, 
 Even in this extremity save, save her. 
 
 the high priest suddenly advancing, separates 
 them. 
 
 the high priest. Jephthah ! — Hadassah ! — Children 
 of one faith 
 Heirs of one hope ; alike submissive to, 
 
JEPHTHAH. 269 
 
 Alike resolved to bow before the will, 
 
 As it appeared to ye both, of the Lord God, 
 
 The mighty, the terrible, the merciful, 
 
 The true, the living, the Eternal God : — 
 
 Yet both alike, yet all this people alike 
 
 Erring, yea sinning, in your ignorance, 
 
 Ignorance, darkened, deepened, intensified, 
 
 By Israel's besetting sin, have by your sin 
 
 Exemplified the all-foreknowledge of 
 
 God — who, foreseeing man's rashness, had provided 
 
 Due remedy, and in his holy law had fixed 
 
 The redemption of such vows. — 
 
 Perform thy vow : — 
 But, only in that way which God's pure law 
 Ensanctifies — 
 
 So Isaac was chosen, 
 Was bound, — was so far offered, — but the real victim 
 God had himself provided : and now, the law 
 In his stead, provides for the requisite fulfilment. 
 
 Thou hast performed thy vow. — Pure of her blood 
 Live thou great Jephthah/ Judge of Israel ! — 
 But for thy rashness, for thy ill-advised, 
 Thy headstrong swearing, thou must part for ever, 
 As though she were dead, with this thy child 
 
 beloved. 
 Devoted — she is Holy to the Lord. — 
 Pure be her body, as her soul is pure : 
 Live she an Angel, until Angel hosts 
 Convoy her back to Heaven, whence she came. — 
 
270 JEPHTHAH. 
 
 Hear, — Hear, — O, Israel ! — Bow down in the dust, 
 Spread sackcloth, and strew ashes on your heads : 
 Weep for your sins, and in oblation bring 
 The appointed sacrifice. — Pour, pour the blood, 
 Not only of fat beasts, but pour the blood 
 Of your own hearts, in lowliest contrition : 
 So shall your sanctified, renewed souls, 
 Brink in instruction ; so shall ye have learned 
 True wisdom from your chieftain's suffering ; 
 And Israel's daughters, dwelling upon the theme. 
 Shall to all future time lament with tears, 
 With tears of thankfulness, with tears of love, 
 The sad, sad tale of Jephthah's fatal vow, 
 
 *****#**## 
 
271 
 
 THE CXXXVIIth PSALM. 
 
 (paraphrased.) 
 
 By Babylon's, by Babylon's deep streams ; 
 By Babylon's dark waters we sate down, 
 And wept, in our remembrance ; wept for thee, 
 Wept for thee, Sion I Sion ! wept for thee. 
 
 On Babylon's, on Babylon's drooping trees ; 
 On Babylon's drooping, melancholy trees, 
 Our harps we hung. Lamentingly the wind 
 Moaned, as, in misery, our harps we hung. 
 
272 PARAPHRASE. 
 
 " Sing us the song, sing us the joyous- song, 
 Sing us the song of Sion, when her melody 
 Wakened the echoing hills." — 
 
 " How shall we sing, 
 How shall we sing the song of our Lord God 
 In an estranged land ? How ? How shall we sing 
 God's song, in slavery V — 
 
 " If I forget thee, Sion ! 
 If I forget thee, thee, O Jerusalem ! If I forget thee, 
 Thee, City of my fathers ! may my palsied hand 
 Forget her skill : may the revolting chords 
 Howl in my fingers. — If I do not remember thee, 
 If ever my aching memory should relax 
 Her clinging unto thee, may my parched tongue 
 Cleave to my mouth ! — In my simulated mirth, 
 When the shrill sistrum rings, when the glancing 
 
 feet, 
 When the tinkling anklets gleam : O ! may my 
 
 tongue 
 Cleave to my mouth, if ever I thee forget, 
 Pride of my fathers ! loved, loved Jerusalem \" 
 
 " Lord God of Hosts ! dreadful Lord God of Hosts ! 
 O ! God of Hosts ! remember, — in thine anger 
 Remember Edom : — remember, in indignation, 
 How Edom shouted ' down, down, hurl her down, 
 Trample, trample in the dust her gorgeous towers, 
 Scatter her, scatter her to the winds V " — 
 
PARAPHRASE. 273 
 
 "O! dread Lord God ! 
 Remember Edom, in thy extremest fury, 
 And spare not, spare not t" — 
 
 " Daughter of Babylon ! 
 Daughter of Babylon ! Daughter of Babylon ! 
 Proud, haughty, fierce, and pitiless : — O ! happy he 
 That, in thy day of wasting misery, 
 Shall deal to thee as thou hast dealt to us : — 
 Happy, thrice happy he, who, in his vengeance, 
 In his exulting vengeance, shall hurl thee down 
 And trample thee, as thou hast trampled us : — 
 Blessed, thrice blessed : blessed as the blazing hosts 
 Of choiring Seraphim, he, whose red, righteous 
 
 wrath, 
 "Whirleth thy children, in his abhorring arms, 
 And dasheth out their brains. — Glad be the rocks 
 That reek, in retribution, with thy blood." 
 
274 
 
 THE MOUNTAIN AND THE PALM TREE. 
 
 Many were the suitors of the Palm-tree. The Sandy- 
 Plain loved to behold her, often beguiling his solitude 
 by watching her reflection in the mirage. The Foun- 
 tains of the Oasis loved her, and the Fountains of the 
 Oasis had not their love despised. — The Mountain 
 of the North wooed the Royal maid. Exalted above 
 the vapours of the world, his awful forehead glowed in 
 the revering Sun. Chasms and precipices, yawning 
 caverns, and frowning cliffs, added sublimity to his 
 vastness. The Islands of the Ocean offered him their 
 
THE MOUNTAIN AND THE PALM-TREE. 275 
 
 daughters ; but, he loved the Palm-tree, and spread 
 before her his broad meads, and his ancient forests, 
 his bubbling springs and his foaming cataracts .• — The 
 Land of her Fathers wept for the Royal maid : the 
 Fountains of the Oasis felt their souls die within them : 
 but the Mountain-Crest glittered in the Rising-Sun. 
 ■ — Her roots were snapped, the life-sustaining fibres of 
 her affection were torn asunder; often did she look 
 back to the Vallies of Delight ; — but the Mountain- 
 Crest was effulgent in the Mid-day Sun. — 
 
 The Forests of the North, bowed before her stately 
 height : The Lakes of the North expanded their broad 
 mirrors in exultation : The Torrents of the North raised 
 the shout and the Everlasting Glaciers of the North, 
 echoed their acclamation. — The Lover bent over her in 
 ecstasy : the Tribute of the Earth was spread beneath 
 her feet : the Blessings of the Heavens descended upon 
 her graceful form : — but, the Pearl drops of the Foun- 
 tains of the Oasis were treasured in her heart. Still 
 were they treasured although they corroded her soul. 
 They were the earliest tribute of her native land. — Her 
 adorer saw the drooping of her beauty : he saw the 
 glories of her height decline : he clasped her to his 
 bosom, but — his bosom had ribs of Ice. — His hoar 
 head grew pale in the Western- Sun. — The Mists of 
 Winter rolled round their gloomy shades : The Royal 
 Palm-tree fell. — The Bereaved Mountain, stiffened in 
 despair. — 
 
 t2 
 
276 THE MOUNTAIN AND THE PALM-TREE. 
 
 Vainly his hoarse caverns raised the Song of her 
 Applause, for the Grey-grass whistled censure over her 
 Narrow-House. 
 
 Houri of Earth ! — taste with pure lips the Well of 
 Instruction, and may the Honey of Counsel, brighten 
 thy countenance, and fortify thy heart. 
 
277 
 
 COUSIN DINAH. 
 
 My worthy uncle Jeremy Crabtree, was one of the 
 genuine boys of the Old School ; a kind of ante-dilu- 
 vian, like the relics of an older world peeping through 
 younger strata, wondered at for oddity, but rarely 
 pecked into to prove the soundness of their hearts. 
 
 Jeremy had been, in his day, a beau of the first- 
 water; queued, snuff-boxed, gold-trimmed, and starch- 
 ed to the eye-lids ; with all the modest assurance of a 
 man of the first circle, all the beauties and toasts of 
 former days were familiar to the eye, which, even now, 
 gleamed at the recollection. The choicest spirit of his 
 club, the oracle of his coffee house, the primest buck 
 when half-primed, and, six-bottled, the truest blood 
 that ever drew blood ; Jeremy strutted and fretted his 
 
;>i/» COUSIN DINAH. 
 
 hour, escaped all the hair-breadth 'scapes of a man of 
 fashion, and, at last, sobered down into a precise queer 
 Old Bachelor. 
 
 Yet, there was a something, an undefinable something 
 in his whole demeanour, which marked the gentleman ; 
 and strong, natural good sense had, from the varied 
 scene, selected much of the good, and given to that 
 which in others had been folly, an elegant piquancy 
 and zest. 
 
 Not but that Jeremy was something of a humourist : 
 not but that a certain degree of crazincss in the pocket 
 and the constitution, had imparted a slight tinge of 
 querulousness to his temper ; but still, Avhen the wind 
 was not North-East, or North-East-and- by-East, or 
 South-West-and-by-Wcst ; nor a twinge of the gout, 
 nor a husk of the phthisic lay snugly by watching a fit 
 opportunity for holding up the hour-glass ; Jeremy 
 was, in the main, a good-tempered as well as a good- 
 hearted man : and — once set in the right key, the 
 world lay before him coloured in the ruby hue of his 
 decanter, the warmth of humanity glowed by his snug 
 fire- side, and old friendship, like his fat, wheezing lap- 
 dog, patted his arm and whined satisfaction in his face. 
 
 Aunt Tabitha had long been his companion and 
 counterpart, in her way; and, in some moment of 
 Aveakness, or good humour, or compassion, or what you 
 will, not less than three, three well-grown nieces, left 
 to the charity of a wide world, found that wide world 
 had a warmeorner or two in it, and that Uncle Jeremy's 
 den was not one of the worst. 
 
COUSIN DINAH. 279 
 
 Cousin Katherine happened to be the eldest, and as 
 her good father was not overburthened with the need- 
 ful, and was withal, a little economical ; she had been 
 taught all the teachable things, of then thirty years 
 gone by, that her younger sisters might suck honey 
 from her hive, without impairing the family stock. 
 
 But poor Kate happened not only to be so singled 
 out, but also happened to be taught by a learned lady, 
 for such strange things did exist even in those days ; 
 but also happened, without being much of a genius, to 
 have a thorough good stomach for a book, and, like 
 a true trencher-woman, cut, carved, and came again 
 until her very finger ends stood starched out with 
 repletion. — Greek felled Hebrew, Hebrew whipped 
 Chaldee, Chaldee stitched Syriac, so that, what with 
 black-letter, bobbin, and stay-tape, clever Kitty Crab- 
 tree degenerated into a kind of non-descript blue- 
 stocking ; and, I verily believe, would have hung upon 
 hand until doomsday, had not the Parson chivalrously 
 taken pity on her single wretchedness, and had doubt- 
 less by that time carried her off, but that, as old 
 Pagan Troy stood a ten year's siege, Christian Kitty 
 Crabtree could have never been so indecorous and un- 
 classical as to have yielded earlier : — although scandal 
 does say the first peep through the fan-sticks has, in 
 the code, been set down as the regular proclamation of 
 war ; and at least nineteen months, ten days and three 
 quarters of an hour had elapsed ; for all that time was 
 occupied chockful of sighs, wishes, tears, tremblings, 
 and fits of the dolefuls, before the enemy had dared to 
 
280 COUSIN DINAH. 
 
 break ground with the first, best, and dearest verb of 
 the Latin Grammar. 
 
 All these affairs went on smoothly and steadily, as 
 they should do. Aunt Tabby drilled the lady, for 
 Aunt Tabby, although a staid, veritable maiden-aunt, 
 had not the usual feminine fierceness, and had known, 
 or had heard of, or had dreamt of, or had thought 
 about such like things : and Uncle Jeremy, who was a 
 little partial to the Cloth, although he now and then 
 slily scarified it with a joke, or cut slap through it with 
 a sarcasm ; like a sturdy veteran cheered his recruit 
 with the comfortable promise of a ball through his own 
 brains, if he were to scruple popping a ball through any 
 unlucky neighbour's who might take a fancy to his 
 preserve : and the ten years' siege, might by good 
 generalship possibly have been concluded in seven, and 
 bare five-eighths, had not, most unfortunately, and 
 inopportunely, the merry-hearted, rattle-sculled, gig- 
 gling-girl Fanny, most romantically taken it into her 
 head that, " she would please her eye, if she broke her 
 heart/' and one moon-shiny night, bade adieu to com- 
 fort, with a dashing cornet of a dashing regiment ; and 
 after dashing and flashing six weary months, until, 
 poverty peeping in at the door, love flew out at the 
 window, and the brute dashed the illusion from her 
 mind, with " If you could deceive that old fool Jeremy, 
 you may deceive me ; so pack !" and the poor child, for 
 she was only seventeen, was obliged to pack with all 
 her sorrows, she had nothing else to pack, and to disarm 
 the frown of irritated relationship by submission and 
 penitence. 
 
COUSIN DINAH. 
 
 281 
 
 Poor Fanny ! — The bright eye gleamed no longer. 
 The innocent, childish wit of the giddy, almost silly 
 girl, sank into the hopeless blank of inanition, and the 
 widowed-wife monrned over her delirium of folly, 
 bitterly regretting the first imprudent step; finding, 
 now that it was too late, the anxious, solicitous, but 
 steady yearning of parental affection, is but a momen- 
 tary trial, like the rain-cloud which fertilizes nature, 
 though it may soak us to the skin — the headlong, and 
 transitory riot of passion, is the maddened whirlwind 
 which leaves the bones to bleach where it's satiated rage 
 has thrown them. 
 
 More than vexed, — agonized and tortured, they wept 
 over the ill-fated girl, although, in her presence, kind- 
 ness, and affection, soothed the pangs which they could 
 not remove. Yet, bitter were the tears of my Aunt, 
 and not less corrosive, though more suppressed, the 
 sorrows of her good brother. 
 
 Time however calmed them into resignation, and 
 when the daily paper announced that Cornet Heartless 
 had a bullet scuttled through his scull, while he was 
 most praise worthily employed in trying the thickness of 
 a Frenchman's, the rising tear which was dashed indig- 
 nantly from the corner of his eyelid, eloquently depicted 
 his detestation of the villain, subsiding into pity for the 
 man. 
 
 " Sister," said he, after recovering from the momen- 
 tary spasm, " Sister, — Thank God the girl is released !" 
 — and, Tabitha, most decorously subliming her pearl 
 drops with the corner of an innocent lawn-kerchief, 
 and, heaving her tight-laced bosom, with a sigh of 
 
282 COUSIN DINAH. 
 
 decent acquiescence, echoed the grateful exclamation; 
 and, after sundry twitchings, and fidgettings, and hems, 
 and air's, and dear-me's ; — for she knew not how the 
 observation might be received, as Jeremy was rather 
 apt to be intolerant of other folks' suggestions, and the 
 valour of his self-opiniation was, often, not a little 
 heightened by a fit of the dismals ; as if it tacitly said, 
 " Fm vexed you should find me so weak as to snivel 
 like a married man/' a kind of animals whose compunc- 
 tious visitings, after refusing a new gown, or growling 
 at Master Jacky for puking over his fire-new waistcoat, 
 Uncle Jeremy held, or affected to hold, in his most 
 sovereign contempt : but — 
 
 Heaven help him ! Aunt Tabitha had just hemmed 
 out her introductory " but, brother," — when sharply 
 turning round the hawthorn, then blooming in all it's 
 loveliness, at the edge of the lawn, appeared a young 
 man of very gentlemanly deportment. 
 
 Apparently some eight and twenty years, and the 
 kisses of a solstitial sun had embrowned his cheek and 
 added fire to his dark hazel eyes. He was to them an 
 entire stranger, but it was stranger still that poor old 
 Chloe, whose foundered pettitoes could scarcely budge 
 one after another, was puffing and whining, and 
 whining and puffing, and wagging, as well as she could 
 wag, the only stump of a tail she could call her own ; 
 and not a soul upon earth had ever before known her 
 desert her young mistresses in their morning's search for 
 
 1 beg pardon ! The virtues of May-dew are now 
 
 out of fashion, and dearer cosmetics than a clean, whole- 
 
COUSIN DINAH. 283 
 
 some, rough towel, and a canter before breakfast, are 
 more laudably introduced, to the manifest benefit of 
 perfumers' gentlemen, and gentlemen perfumers. 
 
 Now, — whether it was that Aunt Tabitha had been 
 caught deshabille, or Uncle Jeremy popped upon before 
 he had shaven a week's growth beneath the skin, or 
 that the whole world was struck all of a heap at Chloe's 
 ingratitude, certain it is, a more ominous congregation 
 of formalities, never bowed at a door, half rose from a 
 snug mohair-lined morning chair, or bent over a half- 
 sipped breakfast-cup, than the morning parlour of Crab- 
 tree-hall exhibited. 
 
 A few short minutes, and but a few, elapsed, before, 
 dashing the introductory letter to the hearth, and spring- 
 ing up with an elasticity which fairly confounded Aunt 
 Tabitha, and Tom, who until that moment had been 
 napping-it cosily in Aunty's lap : for, be it known, 
 Tabby had not that mortal antipathy to cats, which 
 some timid young ladies of a certain age are apt to 
 express ; heaven knows how truly, for in such mysteries 
 I dive not : and Aunt Tab vigorously maintained her 
 position, that the same kindness which could cherish a 
 grateful animal Avould be at least equally, if not more, 
 exerted in alleviating human suffering: but, whether 
 that shewing were true or not, the bobs, and scrapes, 
 and dips, and curtsies at the Church-porch seemed to 
 bear testimony to Tabby's universal benevolence. 
 
 But, Jeremy's ecstatic, overflowing kindness, uncon- 
 scious of rheumatism, or affection Tabitha-ward, had 
 nearly capsized the old lady and the tea-tackle, as with 
 
28i COUSIN DINAH. 
 
 a warm grasp he welcomed the Grandson of a dear 
 friend and fatherly benefactor. 
 
 Scarcely had the commotion subsided when, some- 
 what strangely, as if the opportunity had been watched 
 for, entered the loves and graces of the family, bloom- 
 ing, each in her own way, from the zephyred glade and 
 spangled lawn. 
 
 The eye of Dinah flashed, — and so flashed the newly- 
 domiciled stranger's eye. 
 
 Aunt Tabitha was too intent upon Tom, who sate 
 cursing and swearing, with all the zeal of a moss- 
 trooper, at the full strength of his wind-pipe, which 
 nearly cracked with the deep whough — whough — whoo 
 oo oo oo, while all her patting and scratching, and 
 smoothing, and coaxing, had much ado to soften his 
 melodious howl, and to conjure out a single gray- 
 thrum. 
 
 Little attention could she pay to dashes and flashes. 
 But Jeremy's eye caught the glance. He had once 
 been accustomed to such gleams ; and, laying two-and- 
 two together, to wit, the two wags of the dog's tail, and 
 the two flashes of the lady's eye, came to the four 
 natural conclusions : 
 That, they had seen each other before : 
 That, " love me, love my dog," friendship with Chloe, 
 argued anything but unfriendliness to Chloe's play- 
 mate : 
 That, as Chloe and he came in company, most probably 
 
 they had together left their company : 
 That, the letter of introduction was, in downright En- 
 glish, a letter of recommendation : 
 
COUSIN DINAH. 285 
 
 And if two and two had made five, probably 
 
 also, he might have endeavoured to think favourably 
 of one who fairly demanded a parley before he opened 
 the trenches. 
 
 As it was, — it would have been a breach of hospitality, 
 such as he could never have forgiven in himself, had 
 he not most earnestly invited him to dinner : — and 
 then, posted off Jeremy, as fast as two over-fattened 
 sleek, saucy, old, short-winded pet ponies could post, 
 to sound his friend Zachary, who having had five 
 daughters, had fairly matched off four-fifths of them. 
 
 But, this was done by the sly. — It was only the 
 morning' s airing, and Tabitha had not sufficiently over- 
 recovered the disaster to be equipped in time ; besides 
 it would not have gee'd to have betrayed to any soul 
 upon Crabtree-earth, any distrust of his own judgment. 
 
 Now, as the stranger really had only bowed, en-pas- 
 sant, though Chloe, with a wicked eye to self-interest, 
 and a dog's intuitive sense of dog-lovers, had only 
 followed for nuts and gingerbread, the girls were in 
 uttermost commotion. 
 
 Even the young widow felt a certain fluttering. 
 Steady Katherine thought it might be better to hide 
 a little of the stocking, with pink-bows, and lilac- 
 sashes, green -floun rings, and blue-pinkings ; while 
 Dinah, pinning, and basting, and sewing, and felling, 
 and stitching, and unstitching, and unbasting, and un- 
 sewing, and unfelling, and unpinning, in striving to 
 look disengaged just looked quite-engaged, and at last, 
 sate down exhausted the very fac-simile of anxiety. 
 
28G COUSIN DINAH. 
 
 To do the girl justice : if Dinah was not altogether 
 the flower of the family ; the stem, and leaves, and ten- 
 drils, were so prettily twined together; there was so 
 much of gentleness, mingled with firmness and truly 
 maiden modesty, that an acute observer could, after 
 some intercourse, discover more beauty in her green 
 leaves than in the gayer tints of Fanny, and more frag- 
 rance than in the drier petals of Katherine. 
 
 She was not tall, she was not graceful, she was not 
 beautiful, but yet, Dinah was one of the beauties after 
 my own heart, and I could not but feel a sort of sneak- 
 ing kindness, a sort of something — but I had, some- 
 what prematurely, shot up for seed, like a lettuce in a 
 thunder-storm, to six feet three inches and a half, and 
 Dinah could not, with all her shoes, muster much more 
 than four feet eleven ; so that the world's dread laugh, 
 laughed my kindness out of countenance, and, after 
 sundry twists and contortions, turning up of eyes, and 
 turning out of toes, I made an honourable retreat, and 
 took up another position, as many great generals have 
 laudably done before me. 
 
 Now, notwithstanding all the Herculean, or the 
 Cleopatrean exertions; notwithstanding the anxiously- 
 enquiring steal in the glass, only made her anxiety 
 more apparent ; Dinah prudently thought her eyes 
 might flash again, did she enter the sitting-room in- 
 opportunely, and, like many other cowards, at the risk 
 of encountering Henry Darlington, resolved to put a 
 good face upon the venture, and first to encounter an 
 
COUSIN DINAH. 287 
 
 empty room, that she might with the more nonchalance 
 meet the first curious eye which might enter. 
 
 But, Dinah had reckoned without her host, and the 
 first enemy she saw was Aunt Tabitha herself, firmly 
 ensconced in the elbow chair, her high-heeled shoes 
 comfortably resting upon the massive footstool, and her 
 high stomacher, as comfortably begirting the expiring 
 relics of sixty years of triumph. 
 
 Clearing the little occasional mist from the mirrors 
 of her soul, by the assistance of a tortoise-shell, gold- 
 inlaid, cased-reading-glass ; Tabitha was beguiling the 
 weary, weary half-hour before dinner, by decyphering 
 the but half-intelligible scrawl; and, by dint of stout 
 argument, and comparison of ideas between the tortoise- 
 shell, gold-inlaid, cased-reading-glass, and her own real, 
 but waning optics, had tolerably well comprehended it's 
 meaning, until she was brought hard up by such a 
 scribble-scrabble as would have beaten any rock-scored 
 Runic-rhyme clean hollow. 
 
 Vainly did she strive to pick and poke it out. Vainly 
 did she rub her eyes : vainly did she rub her glass ; 
 when, poor Dinah, inconsiderately intent upon every 
 syllable, as, introduced by "ah, that is it," or, "it must 
 mean that, if it mean anything," they crept indeter- 
 minately between the interstices of her white, well- 
 worn, front teeth : guessed, for in the innocence of her 
 little, inexperienced heart, she thought it could be 
 nothing less, and eagerly said, " Henry Darlington, 
 Aunt," and, catching herself, most demurely added, 
 
288 COUSIN DINAH. 
 
 "■I think it is — it looks like— like a name," — while 
 Tabitha, who until that moment, so intent was she 
 upon the task, knew not that a soul was near her, with 
 a keen, look-me-through glance, echoed — "Henry Dar- 
 lington — so so then, I think you know Mr. Henry 
 Darlington." 
 
 I would have given my best blue-stone buckles, and 
 snuff-coloured waistcoat, embroidered by Cousin Dinah's 
 own fair hands, to have been fairly out of her scrape. 
 
 " Yes, — no — no — yes — I — I — " 
 
 " Know Mr. Henry Darlington," repeated Aunt 
 Tabitha, bowing with the most provoking calmness 
 imaginable. 
 
 " I think — yes — I met him — let me see — yes — I — 
 last assizes, aunt, he handed me into — the race-course." 
 i " Yes, and a very pretty race-course you have been 
 handed into." 
 
 " No, aunt, — not the races — into — out of— the ball- 
 room, aunt." 
 
 " Yes, yes, yes," nodding every curl of her well- 
 powdered wig in accordance, as the words, with due 
 precision, wound their way between the tongue, and 
 the tongue's coverlet ; " Yes, yes, yes — and a most 
 delightful ball-room it was, no doubt, — But this is 
 Jeremiah's own management, and as I have had no- 
 thing to do with it, all I can say is, that I do not con- 
 sider myself responsible." 
 
 " But, aunt— my uncle." — 
 
 " I dare say your uncle approves it — no doubt." — 
 
 " Indeed, aunt." — 
 
COUSIN DINAH. 289 
 
 " Indeed, I do believe." 
 
 " But, I protest—" 
 
 " Doubtless child, there were abundant protestations, 
 and I shall protest against Mr. Henry Darlington's 
 sitting at my table." 
 
 Poor Dinah had sunk upon the sofa, in the utmost 
 perturbation. Aunt Tabby, who really meant no ill, 
 and, but for the love of triumph over Jeremy's notion 
 of prudence, would not have grieved her niece, felt a 
 little alarmed, as Dinah, with streaming eyes, piteously 
 cried, " Indeed, indeed, aunt, I do not act clandestinely 
 — I have discouraged — indeed I have — indeed — in- 
 deed," — and, in deed and in truth, had not Tabby's 
 smelling-bottle, or the kind pressure against Tabby's 
 bosom, or the kind pat of the cheek from Aunt Tabby's 
 hand, exercised some potent charm, poor Dinah had 
 made a thorough-bred nourish of it. 
 
 But, so it luckily happened, that the pat, and the 
 squeeze, and the salts, and the " Poor girl," and 
 sundry other little agreeables, known only to the ini- 
 tiated in the Art and Mystery of Fainting, had re- 
 assured Cousin Dinah, and a kind of hysteric, forced 
 laugh, had re-assured Aunt Tabby of her convales- 
 cence, before my Uncle, brim-full of good humour at 
 some happy discovery, returned from his dressing-room, 
 whither he regularly went before dinner to review his 
 masticators, and get all ready for action. 
 
 There was a sly archness in tone, a certain 
 waggery of manner, in which he sedulously uttered 
 his wonder how the grandson of his college chum Bob 
 
290 COUSIN DINAH. 
 
 Darlington could have possibly thought of endeavouring 
 to find him out : " but, as the lad has found us, we 
 must be civil to him, if it be only for the credit of the 
 County, and make our beat bows as soon as we can 
 decently get rid of him." 
 
 Whether some twinge of jealousy, or rivalry, be" 
 witched me at the moment, I know not ; but I felt, 
 and blushed for the conscious difference between my 
 listless touch, and the warm glow which animated the 
 pressure of my friend's friend's grandson ; and, though 
 secretly reproaching myself, still found my eyes 
 watching for interchange of look or smile. 
 
 I felt ashamed of the unworthy gratification, yet 
 still felt that it was a gratification. 
 
 There is a silvery softness in the tone, there is a 
 chastened pleasure in the look, there is a beautiful 
 gentleness in the demeanour of a truly modest, good, 
 kind-hearted girl, that is eloquent in it's silence ; and 
 the friendly, sisterly carriage of Cousin Dinah, as 
 equally bestowed upon poor pill-Garlic as upon Henry 
 Darlington, quite disarmed me : — and, though I had 
 not the slightest reason in my male eyes to think it, 
 involuntarily I felt myself wishing they might be lovers ; 
 and, in the overflowing of the moment, distributed, 
 with lordly munificence, all the wealth I might ever 
 chance to possess, amongst their little ones. 
 
 There was none of the thoughtless levity of Cousin 
 Fanny r which, even now, almost broke through her 
 grief : none of the demure yet dogmatical preciseness 
 with which Cousin Katherine looked down upon her 
 
COUSIN DINAH. 291 
 
 meritorious, moth-eaten swain : nothing of the fiddle- 
 faddle with waist- ribbons, the fan-patting, squeezing of 
 fingers, and all the stuffery of those who love to make 
 love look as silly as themselves. 
 
 I grant you there was, or I was willing to think 
 there was, a difference, — it was but a shade of differ- 
 ence in her dimpling, half-concealed, smile at his 
 sallies, and the more-indulged pleasantry when Uncle 
 Jeremy strove to set the table in a roar : and there 
 was a winning gracefulness, mingled with a little con- 
 scious triumph, in her acceptance of his hand to our 
 evening dance. 
 
 There was a more melting melody in her voice, min- 
 gling with his manly notes, than when bearing part 
 with me in our favourite duet : yet, in spite of all these 
 my fancies, I verily believe no stranger could have 
 supposed them lovers. 
 
 To me it will ever be a lesson ; and if ever I metho- 
 dically fall in love, as, heaven forfend me against such 
 a consummation of the uncomfortables, it shall be with 
 some other Cousin Dinah. 
 
 And yet, upon reflection, Cousin Dinah's conduct 
 was natural enough, and such as would have been 
 pursued by any other girl of the merest common 
 sense. 
 
 My dear Dinah, as I used to call her, for the alliter- 
 ation tickled my fancy, and neither dear Kate, nor dear 
 Fanny, sounded half so prettily. My dear Dinah, as I 
 used to call her, when a little lath of an urchin, with 
 my arm round her waist, and her's across my shoul- 
 
 u2 
 
292 COUSIN DINAH. 
 
 ders, our warm cheeks gently pressing each other, we 
 used to pore over The White Cat, or Puss in Boots, 
 and wonder at the narrow escapes of Jack the Giant- 
 Killer, long before I ever dreamt that damsels are the 
 only Giant- quellers now-a-days : — my dear Dinah had 
 shot up from three-feet nothing, into four feet eleven 
 inches and, almost a quarter. She had not indeed the 
 fascinating though rather childish laugh of Fanny; 
 hut there was something decidedly attractive that dim- 
 pled her slightly-coloured cheek, and lighted up those 
 blueish-grey eyes, which otherwhiles slept in calm 
 serenity, expressively betokening the peacefulness of 
 her heart, and contrasting admirably with the keen, 
 researchive look of her elder sister, whose understand- 
 ing, far superior to Dinah's, was susceptible of the 
 highest cultivation, yet unfortunately withered the 
 female graces by shewing that she knew it was so 
 susceptible. 
 
 Dinah, it was true, had pored her pretty eyes over 
 the ugly, crooked hieroglyphics, and knew as much of 
 them as more evidently learned ladies. She was mistress 
 enough of all minor accomplishments, to go through the 
 then customary shew-offs at an evening muster : had 
 a scrap-book, not quite so full of wishes for husbands, 
 and pretty namby-pamby sonnets, and odes, and true 
 lover's knots as Fanny's; and having Aunt Tabby's 
 excellent tutelage, who shone the very essence of a 
 housewife, was, quite deeply enough initiated in the 
 Arcana of the Store-room to know what is good, and 
 what causes it to be good. 
 
COUSIN DINAH. 293 
 
 All these things, like a due course of the Mathema- 
 tics, had clipped the butterfly wings of imagination, 
 had given her habits of attention to herself as well as 
 of attention to others, and made her one of those, 
 who may indeed pass unnoticed in a ball-room, but in 
 the calm, rational enjoyment of a winter's fire-side- 
 party, are sure, without their own wish or effort, to 
 twine round the hearts, and to win the good will of all 
 around them. 
 
 She was not one of your gaudy dragon-flies whisking 
 it's glittering wings in the sun-beam, and leading poor 
 fools a will-o-wisp chase after nothing; but — in short, 
 if any desperate body should endeavour to wade through 
 this lengthy memorandum, and can enter at all into 
 my feelings, — she was the lady-bird of society. — And 
 I do love lady-birds. — There is a marvellous something 
 in their neat, round, polished, red shards, the black- 
 ness of their corslets delicately specked with white, the 
 tiny head, decked with unobtrusive antennae, and a 
 harmlessness of demeanour, that steal into my very 
 soul. I would not harm a lady-bird for all the other 
 insects in existence ; and, hang, and doubly hang the 
 wretch that would harm a human lady-bird. 
 
 Added to all other good, and cogent reasons, exter- 
 nal and internal, Cousin Dinah's carriage was doubtless 
 a little, no doubt a very httle, tiny, the tiniest bit in 
 the world, influenced by the consciousness that hei 
 features were ripening into a trifling matronliness : — 
 that the unthfinking heedlessness, which might be 
 excused in a girl of fifteen, must be unpleasant, if not 
 
294 COUSIN DINAH. 
 
 disgusting, in one of maturer years, — and, above all, 
 perhaps there was a secret consciousness that Henry 
 Darlingon was a man of sound, good, English common- 
 sense j one who would look at a wife, as a being to be 
 respected as well as loved ; and, often had she heard 
 Uncle Jeremy's caution, that few men would forget to 
 shew respect to a young woman, unless she should first 
 forget to respect herself. 
 
 Putting all these twos and twos together, I could 
 not but conclude there was something perfectly natural 
 in Dinah's conduct : there was something per- 
 fectly natural in Henry Darlington's conduct ; and the 
 only wonderment that flashed across my mind was, that 
 out of some ten or a dozen fine, smart young fellows, 
 fellows too who thought they lacked not a grain of un- 
 derstanding, not one had struck the true chord which 
 vibrated sympathetically in her soul : and that, in one 
 short evening they, to wit Dinah Crabtree and Henry 
 Darlington, not only knew themselves to be adapted 
 for each other, but that I, who very innocently, very 
 innocently indeed, knew nothing, nothing upon my — 
 honour, about the affinity between eyes and hearts 
 could know so too ! 
 
 As for Uncle Jeremy, he was an old stager. He 
 knew all the bumps, rubs, finger-posts, slaps, stiles, 
 hedges, ditches, breakers, and break-necks, and could 
 tell, in an instant, the chastened glance of real manly 
 affection, amongst ten thousand nods, winks, and leers : 
 - — but, that Aunt Tabi-iha, (for I had not then heard 
 
COUSIN DINAH. 295 
 
 of the pumping-scene) should have stumbled upon the 
 same discovery, and not fallen, neck and neckerchief 
 down stairs did fairly excite my astonishment. 
 
 That Chloe should have found it out, as dogs are apt 
 enough to smell rats, was not very supernatural ; but 
 that Aunt Tabby and Tabby Tom should have tolerate 1 
 such a scene, aye and even look pleased at it ! ! ! — for 
 Tom, not only rubbed and purred around his legs, and 
 gave the knee-string a passing pat, but, in the exuber- 
 ance of his gratification, leaped with his cinder-sifting 
 paws upon the smart youth's lap, and vibrating the 
 very extremity of his tail, looked up, complacently, in 
 Dinah's face, as if the sooty-striped rascal would have 
 said, " I know you are good friends," and Tabitha, 
 knitting away hard and fast, in a rough canter against 
 time, sate peeping, and smiling, and smiling and 
 peeping, so that I verily believe, could the old girl but 
 have whistled off some two and forty years, it had been 
 a moot point whether she had not trotted off into 
 Tabitha Darlington. 
 
 These, these were wonderful ! 
 
 Aye, Aye ! — all these hours of enjoyment have long 
 since passed away. 
 
 I am now verging towards my grand climacteric, 
 without a wife to cheer or a daughter to console me. But, 
 although I may sometimes be fidgetted by the recol- 
 lection, that she might have been the sweetener of my 
 cares, could I but have mustered courage enough to 
 have risked my fortune ; yet, when I see her enjoying 
 heartfelt pride and pleasure in the midst of her health- 
 
296 COUSIN DINAH. 
 
 fill, cheerful, prosperous family, I cannot, no I cannot, 
 on my soul, refrain saying, " God bless all such good 
 girls as Cousin Dinah." 
 
 TIMOTHY CRABTREE. 
 
CURSORY NOTES 
 
 AS TO THE 
 
 DEFENCE OF WESSEX, 
 
 AGAINST THE 
 
 PAGAN DANES AND NORTHMEN; 
 
 FROM A.D. 851, TO 
 
 THEIR DEFEAT BY 
 
 ALFRED THE GREAT, 
 
 IN A.D. 878. 
 
299 
 
 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 The object of these notes was the elucidation, to 
 myself, of the circumstances which led to Alfred's 
 temporary desertion of the command, which he had so 
 often and so ably exercised. They are based upon 
 " Asserius de Rebus Gestis iElfredi," aided by such 
 other lights as I have had access to. 
 
 At the time of the attack of the Pagan Danes and 
 their coadjutors, the various bands of Northmen, and 
 
300 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 Eastmeu of the Baltic, large portions of Britain were 
 overrun -with wood, and other and very extensive por- 
 tions were bog, and the whole surface appears to have 
 been much moister than it now is. 
 
 It may fairly be assumed that under such a state of 
 circumstances, the lines of Roman roadway, and 
 British trackway, were generally taken, by Equestrian 
 armies, as best adapted for their purposes, upon enter- 
 ing a country with which they were but ill acquainted ; 
 and that the bog land, as it much resembled their own 
 country, did not offer any serious impediment to their 
 footmen ; and, being often flooded, their light boats 
 could be floated over the marshes, and their heavier 
 craft could traverse the streams ; so that warlike stores 
 of stones and other missiles, might have readily accom- 
 panied the army, and the vessels have been ready to 
 aid their flight, when they were repulsed. 
 
 The celerity of their movements may thus be readily 
 accounted for, and their general line of march be pretty 
 well traced, allowing for occasional deviations for the 
 plunder and destruction of a monastery, or some such 
 favourite amusement. 
 
 By the same circumstances the defensive movements 
 of the Christians, it is true, were at least equally facili- 
 tated, excepting that the long period since the Saxons 
 had engaged in piratical expeditions would naturally 
 have led to inferior equipment for, and less daring skill 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 301 
 
 in, maritime attack or defence ; but then, that was 
 probably more than counterbalanced by that intimate 
 acquaintance with the country, which enabled them to 
 thread the wild forests, and to fall unexpectedly upon 
 their foes. 
 
 As to numbers they were however limited by a popu- 
 lation far from abundant, and after any bloody defeat, 
 had to await the growth of children into men before 
 they were fit for other efforts. 
 
 The paralysing effect too of the monkish discipline 
 has to be taken into account. The Clergy while striv- 
 ing to make them pious, and submissive to them, as 
 their spiritual instructors, and, actuated by their own 
 narrowness of mind, if not desire of dominion, would 
 naturally discountenance, if not positively forbid, the 
 cultivation of that daring spirit which enables men to 
 defend their homes, as a disqualification for heaven. 
 
 The Pagans, on the contrary, were trained for war- 
 like deeds from their earliest days. Blood, slaughter, 
 and rapine, were not only pleasures, but were the posi- 
 tive means of attaining that Elysium, the Valhalla 
 which they were taught to seek. Unequalled as bold 
 and skilful mariners, they were almost as unequalled 
 as warriors ; and, whatever were their defeats, they 
 recruited their numbers from every nation of the 
 North of Europe ; and there, they had the very utmost 
 facilities in timber for shipping, in metals for weapons 
 
302 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 and defensive armour, and in stones, from their land, 
 for the reparation of any disaster. 
 
 The exciting conflict of Religious Opinions having 
 once begun, their natural habits were rendered more 
 ferocious by their desire to exterminate Christianity, 
 and, the plunder obtainable from more fruitful lands, 
 and from more luxurious people, made a splendid in- 
 centive to their religious zeal. 
 
 To revenge the cruel, the unmanly, the demon-like 
 murder of JRagnar Lodbroc, might have been the 
 object of this later attack upon Great Britain, and 
 the sufficient cause of their indomitable perseverance, 
 and revolting ferocity ; but religious zeal for Odin, and 
 Valhalla, and thirst for possession of the fair fields of 
 England, were probably the master motives. 
 
 Although their warfare might have originated in love 
 of strife, in desire for plunder, or in thirst for revenge, 
 it at last became a contest of Pagan, or Christian, — 
 Scandinavia, or England. 
 
 There seem strong reasons for believing that Alfred 
 had, by his own misconduct, rendered his people dis- 
 affected. A noble-minded people could not have meanly 
 deserted, a brave and, generally, good king; but we 
 should first reckon up the Saxon losses in men and 
 property during so many years of warfare, before we 
 condemn either them or him for their temporary, albeit 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 303 
 
 indignant submission, and we probably may find that 
 their efforts were truly heroic. 
 
 That the country was thinly peopled is tolerably cer- 
 tain. Nor mountain nor marsh can maintain numerous 
 tenants ; and flat lands, while covered with dense woods, 
 have not much greater capability. It could therefore 
 only be upon the clearings, and in the towns, that many 
 could subsist ; and it is further to be borne in mind, 
 that they were not merely disunited by kingdoms, or 
 districts, each jealous of the others, but each district 
 was disunited in itself, for the inhabitants were of 
 various races, — Saxons and Norsemen, as freemen, and 
 Britons, as slaves. 
 
 Some of those slaves, in gratitude to kind masters, 
 and others, from that disposition to repel invasion which 
 seems to be indigenous to the soil, might have aided 
 their masters manfully ; but there could scarcely have 
 been other than a half allegiance, even with them, 
 neutralized by some lurking hope of regaining their 
 national superiority ; while others probably would join 
 the enemy openly. This may be taken as a certainty, 
 in some cases at least, for we read that when the Pagans 
 landed in East Anglia, they did not move at once upon 
 Ella, but employed their emissaries to corrupt his 
 people. 
 
304 CUltSORY NOTES. 
 
 Asser says that, in 851, the Pagans, in an attack 
 upon Wessex, it was a mere predatory attempt ; were 
 repulsed and driven away, by Ceorl, Earl of Devon, 
 from Wicgambeorg, (Wembury) ; yet, their defeat at 
 that point did not send them home agaiu, for they 
 sailed to, and wintered in the Isle of Sheppy, waiting 
 for reinforcements ; aud three hundred aud fifty ships, 
 laden with men and weapons, entering the Thames, 
 they at once attacked and depopulated Canterbury and 
 London. It is, however, not certain that this was the 
 City of London, but perhaps Sandwich, or some 
 contiguous place, in Kent, of somewhat similar name. 
 
 The destruction effected by at least four thousand 
 men-at-arms, for every man they had was a determined 
 and skilful warrior, must have been very great. 
 
 Thence they marched into Mercia, probably by the 
 Roman road, through St. Alban's, Towcester, and Da- 
 ventry, into the very heart of that Kingdom, and to a 
 point, whence, by the same description of road, they 
 could move, with the utmost celerity, to every part of 
 it. — There they defeated the king Beorhtulf, and the 
 kingdom submitted to them. 
 
 Having thus weakened Mercia, by slaughter and 
 plunder, they returned through London, undoubtedly 
 with that usual amount of devastation, which invaria- 
 bly accompanied the Pagan Northmen ; and marched 
 
CURSORY NOTES. £05 
 
 into Wessex, to assail the Monk-king, probably deem- 
 ing him an easy prey ; doubtlessly traversing the "Roman 
 road from Southwark, (Sudr-verki) towards Chichester. 
 — Here, however, they failed in their object. — Ethel- 
 wulf, although he had been a Monk, yet had the true 
 spirit of a Saxon King ; and, gathering an army, com- 
 manded by himself and his son Ethelbald, he at- 
 tacked the Pagans directly that they entered the forest 
 of Anderida in the Weald district, then thickly co- 
 vered with oak-trees, as the soil, if left to itself, still 
 naturally produces that tree abundantly. 
 
 An entrenchment, supposed to have been occupied 
 by them previous to the battle of Aclea, (the oak- 
 field) now Ockley, in Surrey, is still visible upon a 
 considerable and nearly circular eminence, enclosing 
 eleven acres of ground, and having a double trench, 
 excepting upon the South-East, South, and South- 
 west, where the hill-sides are steep. 
 
 Here the two armies fought ; and, Asser asserts that 
 such an enormous slaughter had never been known 
 before or since. — Flint-arrow heads, heart-shaped, and 
 an inch-and^an-half long, are still met with in the 
 adjoining fields. — Asser's remark as to the enormous 
 slaughter, may either be taken as comparative to the 
 numbers engaged, or it may have been that the Pirate- 
 Kings, who then swarmed on every water, had, like the 
 rapacious birds of heaven, been lured to the expected 
 plunder, and swollen their army. 
 
 x 
 
306 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 It is also said that at Battley, or Battle-bridge, in 
 Surrey, a carnage of the Pagans, by the women, oc- 
 curred after their defeat at Ockley. — But, whatever 
 may have been the loss of the Pagans, the Christians 
 must have suffered severely in proportion. 
 
 That large re-inforcements had joined the Pagans, is 
 highly probable ; for, Asser notes that a great army of 
 them was beaten by Athelstan the King's son, viceroy 
 of Kent, and Earl Ealhere, at Sandwich, where they lost 
 nine ships ; and as the loss of ships was, in those days, 
 attended by the destruction of nearly all the crew, for 
 the ship Avas scarcely ever surrendered until the warriors 
 and rowers had all been swept away, it is not unlikely 
 that a nearly equal loss was sustained by the Christ- 
 
 ~SYc have thus three great battles in 851- 
 
 In 853, as if it was not sufficiently destructive of the 
 people to combat with such ferocious invaders, Burrhed, 
 the successor of Beorhtulf, after destroying the British 
 King, Merfyn Frych, in battle, still warred against his 
 successor Roderic Mawr; and Ethel wulf, the Christian 
 monk, was so unjust as to join his forces to those of 
 Mercia. — They swept through Wales, and even pene- 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 307 
 
 trated to Anglesea; but, against such a foe, their vic- 
 tories must have been attended with severe loss to 
 themselves, in men whom they could so ill spare. — But 
 ■ — they were victors ! — and Ethelwulf, in his exultation, 
 strengthened their unholy alliance by giving his 
 daughter Ethelswitha (Alfred's sister) in marriage to 
 the Mercian, — the nuptials being right royally cele- 
 brated at Cippanhamme, in Wiltshire. 
 
 In 853, also, the Pagans made an irruption into 
 Thanet, but were encountered by Ealhere, Earl of 
 Kent, and Earl Huda, or Uuada, of Surrey. 
 
 At first the Christians were successful ; but, at length, 
 many on both sides, having been slain or drowned, and 
 both the Christian Earls having been killed, the Pagans 
 remained victors. 
 
 In 855, a large army of Pagans passed the whole 
 winter in the Isle of Thanet ; but they do not appear 
 to have attacked the main land, nor do the Christians 
 seem to have attempted to drive them out. 
 
 Ethelwulf went; in this year, with a large retinue to 
 Rome, taking with him his favourite son Alfred, who 
 had also been sent thither, in 853, with a numerous 
 train of noblemen and commoners, at which time Pope 
 Leo the Fourth anointed him as a King, and either 
 adopted him as a Son, or as a God-son. 
 
308 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 Ethelwulf ridiculously displayed his wealth, at Rome, 
 by giviug to the Pope a crown of gold, two golden 
 vessels, (Baucas), a sword decorated with gold, two 
 golden images, with four Saxon dishes of silver gilt. 
 Besides this he made gifts of gold to the clergy, and 
 of silver to the laity. 
 
 This unwise ostentation was followed up by his more 
 foolishly, upon his return through France, taking to 
 himself a young wife, Juthitta, daughter of Charles 
 the French King, and grand daughter of Charlemagne ; 
 and consummating his folly by placing her upon the 
 throne Avith him, and thus insulting his nobles, and 
 his people. 
 
 This inconsiderate uxoriousness, led to instant and 
 irreparable dissension in his kingdom : for, that, in 
 consequence of their disgust at the infamously vile 
 conduct of Eadburgh, queen of Mercia, and wife of 
 Beorhtric, the people of the kingdom of Wessex had 
 determined that they would no longer suffer a king's- 
 wife to sit upon the throne, nor even to be called 
 Queen. 
 
 Ealhstan, Bishop of Sherborne, Ethelwulfs long 
 tried friend, and able Prime-Minister, and Eanwulf 
 the Earl of Somerset, on that account, felt themselves 
 justified in combining to depose Ethelwulf, and to 
 place his son Ethelbald at once upon the throne. — The 
 nobles, however, would not suffer the old man to be 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 309 
 
 wholly dethroned ; but, by a compromise, it was ar- 
 ranged that Ethelbald should be king of Wessex, and 
 that Ethelwulf should retain Kent, Surry, and Sussex. 
 
 Although this division did not last long, for Ethel- 
 wulf died in 857 : it must have sadly weakened the 
 bond of union between king and people, and so far 
 have materially affected the defensive strength of the 
 kingdom. 
 
 The affection of the people was still further lessened 
 by the disgraceful and degrading conduct of Ethelbald, 
 who soon after his kind, but weak, father's death, 
 married Juthitta, that father's widow. 
 
 It has indeed been said that upon the exhortation of 
 Saint Swithin, he parted from her. Asser, however, 
 does not say so, but writes that he reigned rashly, or 
 in a headstrong manner, two years and a half, after 
 his father's death, and died in 860. 
 
 She did not quit England until after Ethelbald's 
 death ; and she seems not, by any means, to have been 
 fastidiously delicate in her choice of a husband. — First 
 she married a man at least old enough to have been 
 her father : then she married that old man's son ; and 
 after his death, having been taken prisoner by Bald- 
 win, Earl of Elanders, she without hesitation, and at 
 once, consented to become his wife. 
 
310 CUBSORY NOTES. 
 
 And yet, this shameless woman has had the repute 
 of having been the motive cause of our Alfred's perse- 
 vering attempts to acquire book-learning. 
 
 Let us just test the truth of this. — It is said in 
 Asser's work, that Alfred was twelve years old at the 
 time of his beginning to read. — Let us try if a little 
 consideration will not manifest that there must be some 
 sad mistake in this story. 
 
 When Ethelwulf married Juthitta, in 856, Alfred 
 was in the eighth year of his age, and when his bro- 
 ther Ethelbald died in 860, Asser clearly says that 
 Alfred was then in the twelfth year of his 1 age. 
 
 He says also that, beyond all his brethren, he was 
 excesssively beloved hj his father and mother — that he 
 was too much beloved by all — that he was uninter- 
 ruptedly brought up in the King's Court, — increasing in 
 infantile and boyish age, — that he was seen to be more 
 comely in form, and more gracious in look, words, and 
 manner than any of his brethren, — that excelling all 
 others, from his very cradle, in the nobility of his 
 nature, and in desire of knowledge, he filled his 
 exalted mind with information, and rapidly acquired 
 the arts of life — terms not very descriptive of an un- 
 lettered child : — he then adds, yet to the disgrace of 
 his negligent parents and tutors, he remained unac- 
 quainted with letters until or beyond his twelfth 
 year. 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 311 
 
 Now, it must be borne in mind that, in relating the 
 first inducement for this acquisition, Asser distinctly 
 uses the words " mater sua," his own mother, and it 
 seems to me very highly probable, if not indisputably 
 evident, that it really was his own mother, and not 
 Juthitta, to whom the credit is due ; and I conceive 
 that the error lies in the mis-statement of his age at 
 the time of this occurrence. 
 
 Asser does not say at what time his mother died. 
 Ethelwulf, the monk, could not well have been married 
 earlier than 836, the year in which his father Egbert 
 died, without leaving other living issue. 
 
 Ethelwulf s wife Osburgh, Alfred's own mother, is 
 described as " an exceedingly religious woman, of 
 superior capacity, and of noble lineage." She bare to 
 Ethelwulf three male children before Alfred, who was born 
 in 849 : but there must have been a considerable inter- 
 val between the births of the elder children and Alfred, 
 for that in 851, Ethelbald, in conjunction with his 
 father, fought the Pagans : in 851 or 852 Ethelstan 
 was vice-roy of Kent : in 853 Ethelswitha was married 
 to the King of Mercia, at which time if we take her 
 to be the eldest born she could not have well been more 
 than sixteen, unless we understand the marriage to have 
 but a splendid betrothal. 
 
 The youthfulness of the boys, when warrior or when 
 vice-roy, would not much affect the question, because 
 
312 CUllSORY NOTES. 
 
 that in those days, they took the field at a very early 
 age, but there could scarcely have been less than 
 twelve years difference between Ethelbald and Alfred, 
 and eleven years between Ethelstan and Alfred. 
 
 If Osburgh died in 855, that is, one year before 
 Ethelwulf s second marriage in October 856. Alfred 
 Mould then have been in his seventh year, his eldest 
 brother about nineteen, and Ethelstan,* or Ethelbert, 
 about eighteen. 
 
 It might well have been that a pious and well-inform- 
 ed mother, of noble birth, might have striven, by an 
 attractive inducement, to allure her children into the 
 acquisition of knowledge; and, the Book-man Asser, 
 might well have felt it to have been disgraceful, that 
 Alfred, a King's son and the pupil of a Bishop should 
 not have been able to read a Saxon poem even in his 
 seventh year : — mind, Asser does not say he could not 
 read ; it is most probable that he had been taught to 
 read the Church -language, Latin, by S within; but he 
 could not read a Saxon poem, a language not much in 
 
 * In page 6, Asser says Ethelstan the son of Ethelwnlf the 
 king, but in page 14 he gives the name of Ethelberht as the 
 second son of Ethelwnlf, and page 15 Ethelred appears to have 
 been the third son. As Ethelstan and Ethelberht are both 
 mentioned in connection with Kent, Surrey, and Sussex, it is 
 possible they were the same person, unless we can suppose 
 Ethelstan to have been an illegitimate son. 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 313 
 
 use among Churchmen ; and Asser distinctly says, he 
 took the book in his hand, went to a master and read 
 it, and then returned to his mother and recited it. 
 
 Indeed it is with me a question whether the reading 
 was a matter of difficulty, that the mother's offer was 
 not to him who could most readily read, but to him 
 who could first understand, and recite the poem, both 
 of them very distinct things from merely reading it. 
 
 There would be nothing inconsistent in Osburgh, 
 their own mother, stimulating her boys of seven up to 
 nineteen years of age, to recite a Saxon poem : — but, 
 if we take the circumstance to have occurred when 
 Alfred was in the twelfth year of his age, and that 
 Juthitta was his Minerva, there are these very material 
 difficulties to be surmounted. 
 
 When Alfred was in his twelfth year, Ethelwulf 
 was dead, Juthitta was married to Ethelbald. — Ethel- 
 bald must have been about twenty-four years, and 
 Ethelbert about twenty-three years old. 
 
 It is not very probable that, high-spirited Saxon 
 chieftans, would, at such ages, have been sitting pinned 
 even to their own mother's knee, and much less so that 
 they would have been attendant upon a woman who, 
 in Alfred's twelfth year was living in an unchristian if 
 not an incestuous state with his elder brother : — nor 
 is it very likely that Juthitta would have assumed au- 
 
314 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 thority to make such an offer to her own husband and 
 stepson, the King of Wessex, or to the amiable and 
 honourable Ethelbert, her stepson, and brother-in-laAV, 
 then either King or Vice-King of Kent, Surrey, and 
 Sussex. 
 
 Either these difficulties must be explained away, or 
 we must restore to Osburgh the credit of awakening 
 her son Alfred's desire for tuition, and strip Juthitta of 
 her borrowed plumage. 
 
 It appears to me that, the origin of this popular mis- 
 conception, can very readily be accounted for. — The 
 Roman Numerals VII, if hastily written, may very 
 easily have the two sides crossing each other, even 
 but by a trifle, yet quite enough to mislead a transcri- 
 ber, and lead him to write XII ; and the error having 
 once occurred there would be very little chance of it's 
 rectification by a reverse error, for it requires much 
 less effort of the will to make an X than to make a V, 
 as any person may convince himself by trying it rapidly. 
 I therefore am led to believe that the popular error did 
 really commence in this way, and became perpetuated 
 by other transcribers, who, like modern law-writers, 
 simply copied, as faithfully as they could, the words 
 before them, without enquiring into their agreement or 
 discordance with the body of the book . 
 
 A.D. 860, was the first year of Ethelbald's reign, 
 between which, and 864, a large army of Pagans de- 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 315 
 
 populated, or laid waste the City of Winchester : but, 
 as they were returning to their ships with vast spoil, 
 Osric, Earl of Hampshire, and Ethelwulph, Earl of 
 Berkshire, manfully intercepted them. — In a well con- 
 ducted fight they instantly slew the Pagans, through- 
 out the City ; and when these could no longer resist, 
 they took prisoners those who had been terrified into 
 flight. 
 
 It is probable that the Pagans had landed either at 
 or near to Southampton or at Porchester, from each of 
 which places a Roman road led directly to Winchester ; 
 but, while they were employed in plundering the place, 
 it would seem that the Earl of Berkshire, also having 
 the facilities of similar roads, marched directly upon 
 the City, from Silchester or other point in his County, 
 for that no less than three, if not four, roads in the 
 Northern half of Hampshire, united at Winchester. 
 
 In 864, the Pagans wintered in Thanet, and made, as 
 was thought by their dupes, a lasting and honest treaty 
 with the people of Kent, who had therein engaged' to 
 pay them a sum of money for the ensurance of the 
 league. The Pagans however, having thus craftily 
 disarmed suspicion, secretly, and in the night, burst 
 from their camp, broke the treaty and spurning at 
 the promised money, for they well knew that they 
 should get more by plunder than they could gain 
 peaceably, wasted the whole of the eastern part of 
 Kent. 
 
316 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 In 866, Ethered, or Ethelred, acceded to the throne, 
 and in this year, a large array of Pagans arrived from 
 Danubium, (probably Denmark,) and wintered in East- 
 Anglia, with the avowed object of avenging the murder 
 of Ragnar Lodbroc. 
 
 One account is, that Ragnar having been wrecked 
 iipon this coast, was murdered by order of Edmund the 
 King of East-Anglia ; but Turner is of opinion that he 
 was taken prisoner and murdered by Ella, King of 
 Deira, or Northumberland, — Lodbroc is said to have 
 landed from an open boat, during a storm, at Reed- 
 ham, a patch of marsh land on the Yare, in Norfolk. — 
 He might, it is true, have really been wrecked upon 
 the fiat coast of Norfolk, and thence fought his way 
 into Northumbria, and there have been conquered, and 
 murdered by Ella. — Although Saints have been manu- 
 factured out of very unfit, and very questionable 
 materials, there does not seem to have been anything 
 in Saint Edmund's character to countenance a sus- 
 picion that he could have committed so ferocious, so 
 demon-like a crime as his herdsman attributed to him ; 
 but Ella, an unprincipled usurper, might well have been 
 capable of so acting to an equally cruel and remorseless 
 invader ; and the landing of the Pagans in East Anglia 
 might have been done, advisedly, for the purpose of 
 lulling Ella's suspicion of their real object. 
 
 They wintered in East Anglia; obtained from it's 
 King, horses to mount the greater part of their war- 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 317 
 
 riors, that country being productive of good horses, and 
 in the spring of 867, they sailed to Deira. 
 
 They are reputed to have landed at Durnsley-bay, 
 near Whitby, under Hubba, and at the Peak, near to 
 Stope-brow, under Inguar. — Each chieftain is said to 
 have erected the standard "Reafan" upon the top of a 
 very high cliff; and they have been accused of having 
 destroyed Streanshalh, or Whitby, where there was a 
 Watch-Tower. 
 
 Possibly this landing was but a stratagem further to 
 destroy suspicion, and to give their attack the character 
 of a mere predatory excursion. It might have had the 
 object of drawing the defenders away from York and 
 Beverley, or it might have been an error, and that, 
 finding the coast inconvenient for landing their horses, 
 although had they done so, there was a Roman road 
 to lead them towards their prey; they re-embarked, 
 and running past Flamborough and the Spurn-head, 
 proceeded up the Humber, and landed either near to 
 Kingston upon Hull, or at Brough, from both of which 
 points, Roman roads led past Beverley and directly to 
 York, and thence onward to Ripon, which place they 
 destroyed. 
 
 Turner says they marched from East Anglia into 
 Deira ; and indeed, a part of their force might have 
 passed by a Roman road from Norfolk to Huntingdon, 
 
318 CURSOKY NOTES. 
 
 and thence Northward, along the main road leading 
 from London to York. 
 
 The same kind of road would also have led them on 
 to the Tyne, and into the now West Riding ; so that 
 they had but to follow these lines, even at a hazard as 
 to their real termination, with a certainty of their lead- 
 ing them most directly to some object worth attacking 
 and plundering. 
 
 In 868, they moved from York to Mercia, into which 
 three Roman roads ran. Having plundered the coun- 
 try they wintered at Nottingham. 
 
 In compliance with Burrhed's supplication, Ethered 
 and Alfred marched to Nottingham, having four lines 
 of Roman roadway to facilitate their rapid movement, 
 which having alarmed their Pagan opponents, they 
 made a mutual treaty, the Pagans returned to York, 
 and Ethered and Alfred returned to Wessex. 
 
 This was then the state of affairs between the 
 invaders and the defenders of Wessex. — A terrible 
 famine had scourged the land and weakened it's de- 
 fensive population : — Northumbria, with Yorkshire, 
 had been completely conquered : — The Pagans had 
 distinctly proved that, excepting it were supported by 
 extrinsic aid, Mercia was entirely at their mercy : — and 
 that Wessex was the only real obstacle to their final 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 319 
 
 Wessex was then the last refuge of England's free- 
 dom. 
 
 In 870, the Pagans resumed their task. — Hatred of 
 Christianity, and lust for the goodly plunder which 
 was spread before them, led them into Lincolnshire. — 
 It's marshes, and streams, and dykes, facilitated the 
 progress of their craft, on the one hand, and, upon the 
 other, it's Roman roadway through Lincoln and Stam- 
 ford guided their horsemen. — They devastated the 
 country ; destroyed the monastery and slew the monks 
 of Bardeney, which was situate in a marsh upon the 
 river "Witham ; and entered Kesteven, at Michaelmas : 
 — but here, at the very extremity of the county, and in 
 a land quaking beneath the foot-tread, they met with 
 a most determined resistance. 
 
 To save their own homes, and doubtless urged on by 
 the superiors of the Monasteries, to defend those sacred 
 places from spoliation; Earl Algar, to whom Spalding 
 belonged, with his two seneschals Wibert and Leofric, 
 and all the youth of Hoiland, and those of Deeping, 
 Langtoft, and Boston, three hundred in all ; with the 
 aid of two hundred from Croyland monastery ; of Mor- 
 card, Lord of Brunne, (midway between Market Deep- 
 ing and Eolkingham,) with his undaunted family; of 
 five hundred under Osgot, Sheriff of Lincoln ; of five 
 hundred under Tolius, an ancient warrior who had 
 assumed the cowl; of Harding of Rehale and the 
 citizens of Stamford, and men from Sutton and Ged- 
 ney ; stayed their progress for two days. 
 
320 CURSORY REMARKS. 
 
 The Pagans appear to have entrenched themselves at 
 a spot South-east of Folkingham. 
 
 Upon the first day, three of the Pagan kings were 
 slain, and were buried early the next morning at 
 Trekingham, two miles north from Folkingham : — but 
 upon the second day, Godrun, Bacseg, Oskitul, Half- 
 den, aud Arnond, with Freuar, Inguar, Ubbo, and 
 the two Sidrocs, with their forces, and bringing in 
 immense spoil and numerous prisoners, rejoined their 
 comrades. 
 
 Towards the close of a well-fought day, in which the 
 cool, brave, and well-compacted Saxon footmen had 
 constantly repelled the northern horsemen, the Christ- 
 ians lost their advantage by a feigned flight of the 
 Pagans ; they unfortunately, broke from their disci- 
 plined order, notwithstanding the urgent entreaty of 
 their commanders, and were then easily conquered in 
 detail, and were nearly all slain. 
 
 Their cowardly king had not even attempted to assist 
 them : — it was the daring defence of private patriotism 
 against local hostile aggression. 
 
 The fugitives only escaped by the friendly aid of 
 woods and marsh lands. Croyland and Peterborough 
 monasteries were despoiled, and burnt, and all their 
 inmates brutally butchered. 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 321 
 
 Thence the Pagans, and also by a Roman roadway, 
 reached Huntingdon, whence, by a Roman road they 
 reached Cambridge, and thence passed along a branch 
 road to Ely, where the nuns heroically mutilated their 
 faces to preserve their chastity ; or, part of the Pagans 
 might have crossed the fens, or have gone in boats 
 from Peterborough to Ely. 
 
 By the course of the Lesser Ouse, if not by some 
 line of, yet untraced, Roman road, across Suffolk, but 
 which is met with in Norfolk between Castor, (Venta 
 Icenorum) and Thetford ; they marched on to Thetford, 
 then a Royal residence, and Hoxne (Eglesden) at that 
 time the residence of Edmund the King; and there 
 they were joined by Ingwar and Hubba, who had re- 
 turned from an irruption into Scotland. 
 
 Turner doubts at least, if not disbelieves, that 
 Edmund defended himself at all, but Asser and others 
 say that he fought a sanguinary battle with them at 
 Snareshill, near to Thetford, but having been beaten, 
 he became dispirited, resigned himself to that which he 
 deemed to be the will of Providence, and resolved 
 never to fight again. 
 
 His martyrdom is said to have taken place at Fram- 
 lingham, but he was buried at Hoxne. 
 
 Now all was ready for a determined dash upon 
 Wessex. 
 
322 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 The Pagan army had indeed been temporarily rein- 
 forced by Ingwar and Hubba ; but, having established 
 Godrun as King of East Anglia, they returned to 
 Northumbria. 
 
 In 871, the Pagans under Halfden and Bacseg, 
 quitted East Anglia, and, attacking Wessex, pene- 
 trated as far as to Heading. — Their line of march pro- 
 bably ran along the Roman roadway from Venta Iceno- 
 rum or Castor, in Norfolk, which lies between Thetford 
 and Hoxne, to Sitomagus in Suffolk, and thence to 
 Colonia or Colchester, in Essex, for doubtless there were 
 roads to connect those stations : — Thence they had to 
 pass through Essex to London, and thence, by the 
 continuous Roman road across Middlesex, into and 
 across Berkshire, towards Silchester, from which they 
 probably made a short cut across the country to Read- 
 ing, of which they possessed themselves. 
 
 It is not unlikely that the circumstance of it's being 
 a Royal-town, led them to make their dash first upon 
 it, that it's conquest might the more intimidate the 
 populace. 
 
 According to the Danish custom, — for, if one can 
 form a just opinion from the Heimskringla, entrench- 
 ment does not appear to have been often resorted to by 
 Norsemen, who only stood up like good bold fellows 
 behind their shields, and sometimes even fenced a field 
 round with wands, and there fought it out honestly ; — « 
 the Pagans set to work to entrench themselves by cut- 
 
CtftSdRY NOTES. 328 
 
 ting a ditch from the Kennet to the Thames, and^ 
 Upon the third day, merely leaving part of their army 
 to complete the trench, the larger part rode out to 
 plunder the country. 
 
 Although the irruption was manifestly a surprise i 
 Ethelwulph, the brave Earl of Berkshire, intercepted 
 them at Englefield, about five miles west of Reading, 
 A desperate battle ensued. After a hard and long 
 struggle, one of the Pagan Earls, and the greater part 
 of their band having been slain, the others fled, and 
 the Christians, in Asser's phrase, remained masters of 
 the field of death. 
 
 After four days, Ethered the King, and Alfred his 
 brother, having assembled their men, joined their 
 forces and marched towards Reading. — As Wantage 
 was a Royal-town, and as Lambourne was Alfred's 
 own property, it is not unlikely that the brothers were 
 each then resident in his own place, and that they 
 United and marched along the Portway, or the Ridge- 
 way, to the Thames, and then, by it's banks, to Read- 
 ing. 
 
 They appear to have turned the Danish trench,, 
 which might have been unfinished, to have slain or 
 overthrown all the Pagans who were withoutside of, 
 and to have penetrated to the very gate of the CitadeL 
 —The Pagans, however^ did not fight slothfully. — 
 Bursting from all their gates like wolves, Asser saysj 
 
 z2 
 
324 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 all their men rushed to the fight. Fiercely and cruelly- 
 it was contested on either side, but at last the Chris- 
 tians turned their backs and the Pagans ruled over the 
 place of death. 
 
 Among others Earl Ethelwulph was slain there. 
 
 After another four days, the Christians vexed with 
 grief and shame, in right good will marched with all 
 their forces against the Pagan army, which had moved 
 forward and was posted at iEscesdun, or the Hill of 
 Ash trees. 
 
 Carrying out their principle, of striking at the 
 enemy's head by attacking the Royal Towns, they 
 appear to have followed up the retreating army of the 
 Christians, and to have made a charge upon Wantage 
 with all their force, for that it was a not only a Royal 
 town, but the especial patrimony of the "West- Saxon 
 Kings. 
 
 Ethered and Alfred would naturally desire to protect 
 such an important point. It is probably no unreason- 
 able conjecture that the Pagans, moving along the 
 Southern bank of the Thames, took possession of the 
 Ridgeway, and that the Christians occupied the Port- 
 way, both which ancient roads lie nearly parallel with 
 each other. The high range of the Chalk hills along 
 which they run was admirably fitted to shew both the 
 invaders and the defenders, the beautiful country for 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 325 
 
 which they had to contend : on the north from the vale 
 of White Horse to Abingdon, with its tempting Abbey 
 near to the Thames : on the south and east, the rich 
 lands reaching to Windsor on the east, and to the downs 
 of the south of Berkshire, and of the north of Hamp- 
 shire on the South. 
 
 The exact place of conflict cannot now be expected 
 to be ascertained, but any part of the Bidgeway would 
 probably bear out Asser's statement that Alfred charged 
 the Pagans from the lower ground. 
 
 The Pagans divided themselves into two bands, and 
 prepared their Testudo or Shield-fence, and levelled 
 their lances, giving the command of one band to their 
 two kings Halfden and Boegsceg (as Asser here writes 
 it) and of the other to all their Earls. 
 
 The Christians, perceiving this, also divided them- 
 selves into two bands, and as rapidly formed their 
 shield-fence. — Alfred, however, with his band, quickly 
 reached the battle ground, while his brother, Ethered, 
 remained within his tent, hearing mass, and earnestly 
 declaring that he would not quit it until the priest 
 should have finished the prayers ; and that he would 
 not desert the service of God for that of men. 
 
 The Christians had decided that Ethered, with his 
 forces, should engage in battle with the two Pagan 
 Kings, and that Alfred, with his cohort, should com- 
 bat all the Pagan generals. 
 
326 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 Things being so disposed on either side ; the King 
 having remained too long in prayer, and the Pagan 
 army having reached the place of contest ; Alfred, 
 then only second in command, still felt that he could 
 no longer delay making the attack. He had only to 
 choose between receding from the fight by a backward 
 movement, or to throw himself upon the enemy before 
 his brother's arrival in the field. 
 
 Asser says, that, daringly as a wild boar, he at length, 
 as they had before proposed, although the king had 
 not yet arrived, directed the Christian forces against 
 the opposing army, and relying upon the divine will, 
 and nobly supported by his officers, and with his 
 shield-fence compacted in due order, he at once ad- 
 vanced his standard against the enemy. 
 
 But it is to be observed that the place was very irre- 
 gular and ill-fitted for a warlike charge ; for the Pagans 
 had pre- occupied the higher and more advantageous 
 ground, while the Chistians had necessarily to direct 
 their attack from the lower ground. 
 
 It happened that at that place there was only one, 
 and that a very low Thorn-tree, around which the 
 opponents fought ; those acting wrongfully, and these 
 combating for their country, for life, and for all it's 
 enjoyments, fiercely intermingled their battle with every 
 inciting outcry. 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 327 
 
 When, with exceeding hatred and cruelty on both 
 sides, they had for some time fought closely, the Pagans 
 providentially not being able to withstand the impetu- 
 osity of the Christians ; and the greater part of their 
 force having been slain, and one of their two Kings, 
 and five Earls, and many thousands of the Pagan 
 army having fallen dead upon the field, they became 
 scattered every where over the whole extent of the 
 champaign of iEscesdun, and fell dead in heaps through- 
 out it's width and length. 
 
 In that battle were slain King Boegsceg, Earl Sidroc 
 the elder, Earl Sidroc the younger, Earl Osbern, Earl 
 Frsena, and Earl Hareld, and the whole Pagan army 
 was thrown into flight, throughout the night, and even 
 until the following day. The Christians pursued them 
 until night, and overthrew them everywhere ; a rem- 
 nant, however, escaping, and reaching their Citadel in 
 Reading. This flight was more than twenty miles, as 
 the crow flies. 
 
 It is not improbable that, as at that time great part 
 of every county was woodland, the whole range of 
 chalk hill, although itself bare, excepting of this soli- 
 tary thorn tree, the place of which is irrecoverably lost, 
 was known by the name of Ash-down; and that all the 
 lower ground between this range and Eeading, and 
 even to Windsor, was the Champaign or meadow-land 
 of Ash- down, clad here and there with those trees. 
 
328 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 After fourteen days, Ethered and Alfred alone, that 
 is without their Earls, marched with an assembled 
 force to Basenga, to fight the Pagans, who here en- 
 countering and obstinately resisting them for a long 
 time, gained the victory and remained masters of the 
 field. 
 
 After this battle, another army, from beyond sea, 
 joined company with the Pagans. 
 
 By every engagement, whether victorious or defeated, 
 the King of Wessex lost his warriors, and was every 
 day less able to recruit his strength; as every day 
 decreased the number from which fighting men could 
 be selected, in his own land ; and all external aid was 
 cut off by the submission of the other kingdoms to 
 their foes : while, whatever numbers the Pagans lost, 
 they were soon compensated by fresh swarms, eager for 
 blood and plunder. 
 
 Asser does not mention it, but Turner, upon the 
 authority of the Saxon Chronicle, says, that two months 
 after this, the Christians fought another battle with 
 the Pagans at Merton, which he conceives to have 
 been near to Wallingford, in Berkshire, and that here 
 Ethered received a mortal wound, and that, after 
 Easter, he died in consequence of it, and was buried 
 at the Monastery of Wimbourne in Dorsetshire. 
 
 Turner's conjecture is so highly probable that it may 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 329 
 
 be taken to be true, and that the general conception of 
 the fight having occurred at Merton, in Surrey, must 
 be erroneous. 
 
 It is highly probable that, after their defeat at 
 Basing, the brothers retreated to their defensive line 
 in the chalk hills. It it equally probable that the 
 Pagans, having been reinforced by fresh men, and 
 burning for revenge, moved forward as early as they 
 could. 
 
 Ethered and Alfred, not unnaturally, would have 
 taken up their old line of defence upon the Port- 
 way, if not upon the Ridgeway. Their army resting 
 upon the Thames would place them directly in advance 
 of North Moreton and South Moreton, a strong and 
 judicious position ; as one by which they would, if 
 successful in their defence, secure the Monastery of 
 Abingdon from plunder, or by which, if defeated, they 
 could fall back upon Wantage, 
 
 They were not only defeated, but their king was 
 mortally wounded. — This circumstance might have 
 deranged their defensive plan. — His piety of character 
 would have led, and probably did lead him, to seek 
 refuge in some religious house, where the best medical 
 aid of the day was to be obtained, and where he could 
 have spiritual consolation and Christian burial. 
 
 Abingdon Monastery was near, but then it was un- 
 
330 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 safe. — By the Portway, he might have been conveyed 
 close to the Ridgeway. — By the Ridgeway, a Roman 
 roadway could be reached, which ran through "Win- 
 chester and Andover ; from Andover a road reached to 
 Old Sarum : and from Old Sarum it ran southward to 
 Poole, passing close by Wimbourne minster. 
 
 Paralysed by the strenuous defence of the Christians, 
 the Pagans might have hesitated to pursue an enemy 
 capable of making such desperate efforts ; and, tempted 
 by the sight of Abingdon Monastery, whose plunder- 
 ing by them is recorded as having occurred in this 
 year ; they may readily be supposed to have staid there 
 by the way, to recreate themselves with a little slaugh- 
 ter and incendiarism, and to refresh themselves with 
 the good cheer of the lazy, fat monks. — Such was with 
 them a perfectly usual course, and in their own phrase, 
 " delightful as the first kiss of a young bride." 
 
 Having satiated themselves, they had but to follow 
 the same Roman roads by which Ethered escaped. 
 
 Alfred, to protect the Monastery, and to save his 
 brother's remains from insult, had but to retrace his 
 path along the same road; and, their meeting at 
 Wilton, upon the Guilou, now the Willey, would thus 
 be readily accounted for. 
 
 Wilton lies but about two miles, West by South, of 
 Old Sarum. 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 331 
 
 In this battle at Wilton, the Pagans again practised 
 their favourite trick of breaking the disciplined array 
 of their enemy by a simulated flight. — Alfred had a 
 very unequally less number than the Pagans, yet he 
 fought so resolutely, that, finding it useless to continue 
 the attacks which they had made upon the Christians, 
 throughout the greater part of the day, they turned 
 their backs. — The Christians becoming scattered in 
 their pursuit, were suddenly turned upon, and lost the 
 victory. 
 
 To account for the inferior numbers of the Christian 
 army, Asser remarks that the Saxons had fought eight 
 battles within the one year, 871, against the Pagans, 
 besides the innumerable daily and nightly skirmishes, 
 in which Alfred, his leaders, and his people had been 
 indefatigably engaged : in which, he observes that, how 
 many thousands of the Pagans fell is only known to 
 God, excepting that, in those eight battles, one King 
 and nine of the Pagan generals fell. 
 
 If many thousands of the Pagans had fallen, many 
 thousands also of the Christians had been slain, until 
 the Kingdom of Wessex must have been nearly denuded 
 of fighting men. 
 
 Asser expressly states that Alfred's force in this bat- 
 tle was much too unequal in numbers to the Pagan 
 army : but, even although defeated, and although so 
 much inferior in numerical strength, the Christians 
 
332 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 were still strong enough, and their courage had made 
 them so sufficiently respected, as to enable them to 
 negotiate, and to conclude a peace with the Pagans, 
 upon condition that they should quit Wessex. 
 
 In pursuance of this compact, the Pagans did retrace 
 their steps to London, and there they wintered ; and 
 with them the abject Mercians made a treaty of peace, 
 in 872. 
 
 But, in 873, the Pagans, having quitted London, and 
 marched into Northumbria, and there wintered, in the 
 district of Lindesey (Lincolnshire), the Mercians had 
 to make peace with them again. — This shews not only 
 the utter prostration of spirit into which the Mercians 
 had fallen ; but also how little reliance could be placed 
 in treaties with the Pagans, when, without the slightest 
 quarrel having been recorded, it became necessary to 
 make peace, in two successive years ; unless indeed it 
 were that they were merely articles of truce for definite 
 periods. 
 
 The track of the Pagans, in this movement, probably 
 was by the Roman roadway through Hertfordshire, the 
 Western side of Cambridgeshire, Huntingdonshire, the 
 Eastern corners of Northamptonshire and Rutlandshire, 
 and through Kesteven into Lindesey. 
 
 In 874, the Pagans quitted Lindesey, probably by 
 the Roman road leading from near Lincoln through 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 333 
 
 Agelocum or Segelocum (Littleborough), across the 
 Northern end of Nottinghamshire, past Bawtry and 
 through Doncaster, and which struck into the line of 
 the Ickneild street, at, or near to Wakefield, and 
 thence led directly on to Hreopedum or Repton, whose 
 monastery they plundered, and in which was the sacred 
 Mausoleum of the Mercian Kings. 
 
 Here they wintered. — Burghred the Mercian King 
 not only fled his kingdom, but went beyond sea, to 
 Rome. 
 
 After his expulsion, the Pagans subdued the whole 
 kingdom of Mercia, and set up Cleolwulf, one of Burgh- 
 red's officers, as their tributary, upon the condition 
 that they might resume it upon whatever day they 
 should be pleased to name ; and he gave hostages, and 
 pledged himself by oaths, that he would in nowise 
 withstand their will, but obey them in all things. 
 
 The utter degradation of Mercia could scarcely be 
 pourtrayed in more disgraceful terms. 
 
 In 875, the Pagans, having thus secured it's unquali- 
 fied submission, quitted Hreopedun (Repton) in Mer- 
 cia, and divided themselves into two bands. — One of 
 these, under Halfden, took the Roman road which led 
 them directly through Isurium, (Aldborough) and Cat- 
 turactonium, (Catterick) and Magce, (Cliffe) and Vino- 
 vium, (Binchester) and Glanobanta, (Lanchester) and 
 
334 CURSORY NOtfES. 
 
 Vindomara, (Ebcliester) to Corstopium, (Corbridge 
 near to Hexham:) whence the main line led them 
 through Brabitancum and Brenevium (Rocester) by 
 Carter-fell towards Jedburgh; arid an Eastern branch, 
 from Corstopium (Corbridge) across the Roman wall, 
 carried them Northward near to Dalia Alanni, (Ber- 
 wick) and across the Tweed. 
 
 Hcelfden wintered on the banks of the Tyne, and 
 subjugated Bernicia, or the remainder of the then 
 extent of Northumberland and also the South of 
 Scotland, destroying the Picts and the Stratduttensi, 
 or Strathclwyd Britons. 
 
 The British King fled to Ireland from their attacks, 
 but Hcelfden having most treacherously slain Olaf, one 
 of his own officers, himself fell in a battle with the 
 race of the Fingalls, in 876. 
 
 The other band, under Gothrun, Osscytil and Amund, 
 three of the Pagan Kings, marched to and wintered in 
 Cambridge. 
 
 The Roman roadway, by which they reached Ratoe 
 (Leicester), does not appear to have been traced outj 
 but, seeing that such a road is traceable from Breme- 
 tonacae (Overborough) near to Kirkby-Lonsdale, in 
 Westmorland, to Coccium, (Ribchester) and through 
 Blackburn to Mancunium (Manchester) ; and thence, 
 through Stockport, and also near by Chapel-in=the* 
 
CUftSORY NOTES. 385 
 
 Firth, within four miles of, and pointing almost directly 
 to the Roman station at Buxton ; and, seeing that the 
 Roman roadway from Melandra Castle, near to Glossop* 
 passes through the fort at Buxton, and has thence been 
 traced to Brassington, and points in a direct line to 
 Derventio, upon the Ickneild street, which is thirteen 
 miles distant from Brassington, there . can scarcely be a 
 reasonable doubt that, however now lost, there was a 
 Roman road, which, connecting Derventio (near to 
 Derby) with Rates, (Leicester) upon the Fossway, and 
 the Via-Devana, completed the one grand line of com- 
 munication, from Lancashire to Essex, even if the 
 same line did not run through Westmoreland and 
 Cumberland, by the way of Comangium, (Watercrook 
 near Kendal), and Oleacrum, (Old Carlisle) to Tunno* 
 cellum upon the So] way : — unless, indeed, it passed 
 from Comangium, nearly in the present line of mail- 
 road, to Penrith and so on to Carlisle, whence Road- 
 ways led off to Virosidum (now Maryport) with Derven- 
 tione (Pap-castle), and to Axelodunum, Cabrosentum, 
 and Tunocellum (Bowness), upon the Solway Frith— 
 and, as a Trunk line, on to Scotland. 
 
 Assuming that, with so high a degree of probability 
 to justify it, there was a Roman road from Derventio 
 to Ratse, the march of the Pagans upon Cambridge was 
 in one uninterrupted line. 
 
 It would seem that, in the same year, some preda- 
 tory Pagans had threatened Wessex, for we read that, 
 
336 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 in 875, Alfred fought with six Pagan vessels, and too* 
 one of them, and that the others escaped by flight : but 
 it is not improbable that they were mere roving plun- 
 derers unconnected with the invading Kings. 
 
 Having remained at Cambridge throughout the win- 
 ter, probably collecting other troops and providing 
 vessels for their meditated attack ; in 876, the Pagans, 
 under their three Kings Gothrun, Osscytil, and Amund, 
 quitted the City by night, and entered the Castle of 
 Wareham, whose sacred Monastery stands between two 
 rivers, the Fraw (Frome) and the Terente (Piddle) in 
 the County of Durngueis (Britannice) or Thornsceta, 
 (Saxonice) now Dorsetshire, and which is most safely 
 situated, being only approachable on the Western side, 
 where it adjoins to the main-land. 
 
 Turner's impression is that they went by Sea to 
 Wareham, while others have assumed that they moved 
 overland. — Asser does not state which way they took. — 
 It is more than probable that Turner is correct, in un- 
 derstanding that they sailed to Wareham; because 
 that it not only can scarcely be supposed they could 
 have traversed the extent of country between Cam- 
 bridge and Wareham, which is about one hundred and 
 fifty miles as the crow flies, without encountering their 
 vigilant adversary; but, it would seem that they were 
 without the horses necessary for so extremely rapid a 
 march, as would have made their attack upon Wareham, 
 a surprize ; or they would not have needed afterwards 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 337 
 
 perfidiously to have acquired theni, by the slaughter of 
 Alfred's horsemen, upon the very first night after the 
 Christians had been thrown off their guard by a simu- 
 lated peace. 
 
 The probabilities are so much upon the side of it's 
 having been a maritime expedition, that it may fairly 
 be taken as an historical fact ; accounting not only for. 
 the success of their first attack, but also accounting for 
 their possession of the vessels, which were subsequently 
 lost during their attempt to convey part of their army 
 by sea, from Wareham to Exeter. 
 
 This maritime movement appears to have been made 
 very craftily, and in a manner calculated at first to lull 
 Alfred's suspicion ; and next, to render him utterly 
 uncertain as to it's ultimate direction. 
 
 By lying so long still, in Cambridge, it might have 
 appeared that they only intended to consolidate their 
 government of East-Anglia ; and, at the same time, to 
 watch their tributary, the vice-king of Mercia.— The 
 assemblage of a large fleet might indeed have excited 
 suspicion as to a contemplated irruption ; but, if it had 
 so done, with so extensive a sea-board to defend, Alfred 
 could not well have gathered at any given point a force 
 sufficient to repel them ; but could only, by stationing 
 bands at vulnerable places, by manning all the beacons, 
 by keeping men upon the lock-out at all the hill forts, 
 which so abounded in that part of Wessex, as to have 
 
 » A 
 
338 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 rendered it almost impossible for a hostile attack to 
 have been made, by land, without instantaneous detec- 
 tion ; guard against surprise, and then keep himself in 
 readiness to march, from some central point, with his 
 picked men, upon the menaced place. 
 
 From the celerity with which he did move down upon 
 them, so as even to prevent their throwing up entrench- 
 ments ; it is not improbable that he was at the time 
 near to Wilton, a point as nearly centrical, both in the 
 length and in the width of Wessex, as could well have 
 been selected ; and where he would have been like a 
 spider in the centre of his web, with all his admonitory 
 meshes around him. 
 
 It is clearly stated that the Pagans started from Cam- 
 bridge, in the night. — By the Roman road a march of 
 less than fifty miles, would have brought them to 
 Mercey, on the shore of the BlackAvater river, and 
 close to the mouth of the Colne, upon that Estuary. — 
 Standing directly across towards the North Foreland, 
 they had only, by keeping just out of sight of land, 
 to retain Alfred in uncertainty, until the very last 
 moment. 
 
 Thanet, Regnum, (Chichester), Portus Magnus, 
 (Porchester), Clausentum, (near Southampton,) were 
 all likely places to be attacked, for they had tried them 
 before, and knew their vulnerability. — It is quite pos- 
 sible that, knowing this, they might have anticipated 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 339 
 
 that those places were then duly protected, and that 
 therefore they selected a spot were not only they had 
 not before landed, but from which, either by the Roman 
 road from Wareham, or by that from Poole, first en- 
 trenching themselves at Wareham, they could move by 
 land whither they might please, or might re-embark 
 and take their chance at any other unprotected place. 
 — It is also quite possible that, having delighted them- 
 selves by destroying the Mausoleum of the Mercian 
 kings, and enjoyed its plunder, they might have wished 
 to signalize their triumph, by also plundering and de- 
 stroying, both Wareham Monastery and that of Wim- 
 bourne, and by exhuming and dishonouring the remains 
 of Ethered. 
 
 If Alfred did foresee and skilfully counteract this 
 project, it is highly creditable to that generalship for 
 which he had been looked up to by his nobles and his 
 people. If he did not, it was a highly providential 
 circumstance that he should have been so close at hand 
 as he manifestly must have been. 
 
 His promptitude, and their possible uncertainty as 
 to the forces he might have at hand, for no mention 
 whatever is made of any fighting having occurred : and 
 not improbably, the promptings of their own most 
 consummate and unprincipled duplicity, induced them, 
 not only at once to conclude a peace with him, upon 
 his constantly required condition, that they should quit 
 his dominions instantly; but to affirm it, not merely 
 
 2 a 2 
 
34Q CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 ljy giving hostages, but also, and as they had never 
 done before, by swearing upon their Armlets, the most 
 cherished insignia of their nobility, and their most 
 sacred form of oath ; but also, hypocritically swearing 
 upon the Christian Relics, upon the sacred nature of 
 which Alfred, superstitiously, relied as much as they 
 despised it. 
 
 His noble and generous nature rendered him unsus- 
 picious, and his watchfulness might thus have been 
 inconsiderately remitted. — Upon the very same night 
 of this doubly religious rite, when he had sworn them 
 in the then Christian manner, and when they had 
 sworn, of themselves, in the most sacred form, and by 
 those marks of distinction which, as warriors, were most 
 dear to them, and which would have bitterly, and per- 
 petually reproached all honorable minds ; they, neither 
 earing for oaths nor hostages, nor heeding promises, 
 and disgracefully regardless of honour, surprised and 
 slew all his horsemen, who had been lulled into secu- 
 rity by the solemn compact which they had so recently 
 witnessed. — They then, with his horses, mounted their 
 troops, and precipitately marched into Exanceastre, 
 (Exeter), in Domnavium, (Devonshire), on the eastern 
 border of the Wise; still, however, retaining posses- 
 sion of Wareham-Castle, which was impregnable to 
 the attacking power of that day ; and in Exeter they 
 wintered, in 876 —7. 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 341 
 
 They probably had reached this City, by the Roman 
 road, which led directly from Wareham to Exeter. 
 
 By the destruction of his horse-soldiers, they had 
 baffled instant pursuit ; and, doubtless, had shaken the 
 confidence of the army and people in the foresight, if 
 not in the judgment of their king, and thus paved the 
 way for the panic terror with which they were after- 
 wards seized. 
 
 The Pagans thus established themselves at two points, 
 whence they could move on either hand : — but, it is 
 very apparent that they dreaded Alfred's skill, and 
 valour ; and dared not measure swords with him in a 
 pitched battle. — The lion had been wounded, but he 
 was a terrific lion still. 
 
 The Pagans remained, shut up in Exeter and in 
 Wareham, not merely throughout the winter of 876 — 
 7, but throughout all the early part of 877. — Nor was 
 either party idle. — After events clearly shew, that the 
 Pagans had sought aid from beyond sea, on the one 
 hand, and from TJbbo their brother King on the other ; 
 and, not improbably, their apparent supineness was 
 only prudential, and to give time for the expected as- 
 sistance. — Alfred also had diligently bestirred himself, 
 not only in recruiting his army, but, in creating a 
 Navy ; — and from Asser's remark that " their numbers 
 increased daily, so that if thirty-thousand were slain 
 in one day, others succeeded them in redoubled num. 
 
342 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 hers," it may be gathered, that not only active daily 
 recruiting went on, but that there was some severe 
 daily skirmishing as well. 
 
 In the Autumn, however, of 877, while part of 
 their force remained in Exeter, a part retreated into 
 Mercia for plunder ; and Turner says, they then de- 
 throned Cleolwulf, who had himself been a cruel tyrant, 
 and base plunderer of his own nation ; but Asser merely 
 says, that they gave part of Mercia to Cleolwulf, and 
 divided the remainder among themselves. 
 
 This proceeding, under the guise of punishing that 
 consummate scoundrel, enabled them to arrange all 
 their disposable force in Mercia, and to concert the 
 ensuing year's campaign. 
 
 To counteract the operations of the Pagans, and to 
 cut off their supplies, whilst in Exeter; Alfred had 
 (cymbas), boats or pinnaces, (snoekke of the Norse- 
 men) and (galeas) long ships (dragons of the Norse- 
 men), built in the various ports throughout Wessex, in 
 order that, by a naval force, he might intercept any 
 approaching enemies ; and he manned them, or put 
 them in the command of hired pirate-sailors, " to keep 
 the way of those seas," and immediately sent them to 
 watch the Pagans, who had, by his promptitude, been 
 shut up and besieged in Exeter, and wherein they had 
 so wintered. 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 343 
 
 He had ordered his own ships, not to suffer rein- 
 forcements for the enemy, as I interpret the statement 
 of Asser, to pass through (parte freti vitale) the strait 
 or narrow entrance of the Estuary of the Exe — (Ex- 
 mouth.) 
 
 It so happened that a fleet of one-hundred and 
 twenty ships, laden with military stores, arrived for the 
 assistance of their comrades ; and that, when the king's 
 servants had ascertained that they were full of Pagan 
 soldiers, they ardently rushed to arms and manfully 
 attacked the barbarians. 
 
 The Pagans who had been contending against, and 
 had been shattered by, stormy weather, in the open 
 seas, for nearly a month ; made an useless resistance, 
 and their closely-packed armed bands having been 
 mangled by the shock of Alfred's vessels, " all pe- 
 rished alike by being submerged, in the place called 
 Gnavewic. 
 
 Turner has altogether omitted this, upon the faith 
 of other authorities who have consolidated this with a 
 subsequent event. — Asser, the friend of Alfred, and 
 who in all probability drew this, as he certainly did 
 another part of his information, from Alfred's own 
 mouth, makes a statement, which is not only clear in 
 itself, but highly probable. 
 
 Alfred was desirous of cutting off supplies, both 
 
344 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 from East Anglia and from the Continent. — This Pagan 
 fleet manifestly came from a distance ; for they could 
 scarcely have been beating about, nearly a month, be- 
 tween Poole harbour and Swanage, or even Exmouth ; 
 and besides that, Asser, in the two events, which are 
 described close together in his record, distinguishes the 
 places by different names. 
 
 It is not at all unlikely that the Pagans were endea- 
 vouring to make the mouth of the Exe ; that they 
 were intercepted, or were pursued by the blockading 
 squadron; and, being impetuously rushed upon, heeled, 
 and were capsized, by the convulsed motion of their 
 own burthen of armed men ; for such I understand to 
 be Asser's meaning. 
 
 In this case, the whole fleet is said to have been, 
 exactly one-hundred and twenty ships ; but, in the 
 next, Asser expressly says that " out of the whole 
 fleet," one hundred and twenty perished ; and he dis-, 
 tinctly marks it as having been a separate occurrence, 
 in these words. " In this same year, 877, the Pagan 
 army, deserting Werham, partly on horseback, and 
 partly in ships ; out of those which went by sea, one 
 hundred and twenty ships were wrecked, when they 
 arrived at the place called Suanavine." 
 
 From the resemblance of the name, and from it's 
 being in their track, this would seem to have occurred 
 near to Swanwich, usually now called Swanage, in the 
 
CUBSORY NOTES. 345 
 
 Isle of Purbeck ; and as no mention is made, by Asser, 
 of their having been attacked, it is possible that, hav- 
 ing been so heavily laden with military stores and men, 
 as barely to swim in the comparatively smooth water of 
 Poole harbour, notwithstanding it's double tides ; they 
 might have gone down in no very heavy storm, when 
 in the rougher water of (l the Channel," especially if 
 they had also been caught in the ebb-current which sets 
 from the Solent into Poole Harbour. 
 
 I conceive Gnave-wic, or bay, to have been, Babi- 
 combe-bay ; and, as in the next century, the maraud- 
 ing Danes landed at Teignmouth, and ravaged the 
 adjacent country, it is quite possible that it might have 
 been in revenge for the loss of this fleet in that bay. 
 
 Alfred himself pursued the equestrian army from 
 Wareham, by the Roman road, until they reached 
 Exeter; and, in all probability, they suffered severe 
 loss in consequence of his attacks, for that there he 
 exacted and received from them hostages, and bound 
 them, again, by oaths quickly to depart his country. 
 
 Having lost two fleets, and at least some three or 
 four thousand men, and a vast quantity of military 
 stores in them, and, finding Alfred to be so much on 
 the alert, and again provided with an equestrian army ; 
 the Pagans appear to have temporised, and to have 
 sworn to any treaty, and to have made any promises 
 which he required. 
 
346 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 These events appear to have occurred in the earlier 
 part of the year 877, that is, before August. 
 
 In August, part of the army, perhaps that part which 
 had suffered in it's march from Wareham to Exeter ; 
 moved from Exeter into Mercia, ostensibly to punish 
 Cleohvulf, and also to comply with the condition of the 
 last peace to which they had sworn ; but, really to place 
 Alfred between two armies. — The remainder quitted 
 Exeter in January 878 ; and it would seem that Alfred 
 credulously relied upon this movement as being in full 
 completion of their compact with him ; for, in this only 
 way can one account for his having been unprovided 
 with an armed force : — and, in addition to this easy, 
 good faith on his part, it was at a season in which both 
 Pagans and Christians were wont to rest, and each to 
 celebrate the solemnities, and to indulge in the feast- 
 ings and recreations sanctioned by their respective 
 creeds. 
 
 If there were no direct road leading from West to 
 East through Somersetshire ; which seems to be hardly 
 probable, seeing that there was such a road across 
 North-Devon, and another from the East side of 
 Somersetshire across Wiltshire ; and so on to London J 
 still they must have taken to that Roman road, which, 
 leading through Ilchester and Bath to Cirencester, and 
 so on to Lincoln, traversed the centre of Mercia. 
 
 This being their right road homeward, Alfred may 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 347 
 
 well be excused for having suffered his noble nature to 
 be deceived, by as false a race of men as it seems possi- 
 ble to conceive ; in whom there was neither humanity, 
 honour, nor honesty, and who had no one redeeming 
 good quality, but mere brute courage. It is only mar- 
 vellous, that the descendants of such men should be 
 humane, and upright, and honest, and honourable. 
 
 Turning but seven miles out of the direct road, upon 
 which they were legitimately travelling in apparent 
 fulfilment of their oaths; they suddenly fell upon a 
 people, rendered defenceless by their own good faith, 
 and took possession of the Royal town of Cippan- 
 hamme, in the West of Wiltshire, and upon the East- 
 ern bank of the River Avon ; and here they wintered. 
 
 This last act of consummate treachery broke the 
 spirit of the Christians, worn down and reduced as 
 their slender, although brave, numbers had been by 
 many years of exertion ; their own numerical strength 
 continually decreasing, and that of their enemies as 
 continually increasing ; and, excepting themselves, the 
 whole country, Britons as well as Saxons, bowing be- 
 neath the Pagan yoke. 
 
 Their King, brave, skilful, high-spirited, and gener^ 
 ous as he was; and always resolutely bearing up 
 against the cruel bodily disorder which afflicted him, 
 in defence of his people ; had, not unpardonably, 
 allowed himself to be deceived by the perjuries of a 
 
348 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 people, whom neither oath nor pledge could possibly 
 bind. 
 
 In the deepest despair, many of the Christians, com- 
 pelled by Avar, by penury, and by fear, fled beyond sea ; 
 and the Pagans subjected to their dominion the greater 
 part of the wretched remainder of the inhabitants of 
 that region. 
 
 Apparently the Country was totally lost. 
 
 Where Alfred and his family were at that time does 
 not appear. — Not improbably his family were at Wim- 
 bourne, and he also there, still watching, and probably 
 joyfully hailing the departure of the Pagans from 
 Exeter, as the consummation of his generous policy. 
 
 When he heard of their unprincipled treachery, his 
 heart seems to have sunk within him. — The Country, 
 and the Christian cause seemed to be doomed. — Desert- 
 ed by his people, he could only flee and hide his head. 
 — In Asser's words. In great tribulation, with a few 
 of his nobles, and with some soldiers and vassals, he 
 led a harassed life, hidden in the house of one of his 
 own herdsmen, in the woody and swampy places of 
 Somersetshire.— There he had nothing for subsistence, 
 excepting that which he acquired by frequent stealthy, 
 or open irruptions, against the Pagans, as well as 
 against those abject men who had submitted to the 
 Pagan domination. 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 349 
 
 In the same year, 878, and therefore most probably 
 in concert with Godrun and his allies : Ubbo the only 
 survivor of the three original leaders, (Inguar, Halfden, 
 and Hubba,) of the Pagans ; and he who had most dis- 
 tinguished himself by his cruelties at the massacre in 
 Peterborough, arrived from one of his devastating in- 
 roads upon South-Wales, with an armament of twenty- 
 three ships; he having wintered there and committed 
 much slaughter among the Christians. 
 
 It is not unlikely that he had intended to have 
 landed at Bude-haven, near to Stratton in Cornwall, 
 whence a Roman road traversed into and across Devon- 
 shire from West to East, and probably ran in that 
 direction into the road at Bath, that so he might have 
 joined the main army at Chippenham. 
 
 Perhaps, mistaking the estuary of the Taw and the 
 Torridge, in Barnstaple-bay, for the harbour he had 
 been directed to, Bude-haven in Widemouth bay ; or 
 perhaps tempted by the opportune chance, of taking 
 some vessels in that River-harbour, he rashly endea- 
 voured to land, but was slain before the castle of Kyn- 
 wit in North Devon, (Domnania,) along with twelve 
 hundred of his followers, by Odun, Earl of Devon, and 
 the King's servants ; for, in that Citadel, many of the 
 King's servants, with their people, had shut themselves 
 up, as in a place of refuge. 
 
 Asser's account goes on to sav. — But when the 
 
350 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 Pagans observed that the Citadel was unprotected by 
 any defences, excepting that it merely had a wall built 
 after the country manner, they would not even take the 
 trouble of destroying it, for that the situation of the 
 place is such as to be safe from attack at all points, ex- 
 cepting on the East, but began to surround it, thinking 
 that those men, being straitened by the blockade, 
 would be delivered into their hands by hunger and 
 thirst, for there was no water near to it. It did not 
 however fall out as they expected. 
 
 By divine instigation, before the Christians would 
 expose themselves wholly to such an extremity ; they, 
 considering that it would be much preferable to deserve 
 either victory or death, at the earliest day-break, burst 
 out impetuously, fell upon the Pagans, and in the first 
 onset, overthrew the greater part of the hostile army 
 with it's King, a few only having escaped to their ships 
 by flight: — and there they took no small spoil; amongst 
 which they also captured that Standard which the 
 Pagans called Reafan : — for they said that three sisters 
 of Hangar and Hubba, and daughters of Lodebrock 
 had woven that Standard and completely embellished 
 (or embroidered) it in the space of one morning : — they 
 also said, that in every engagement which that ensign 
 preceded, if the victory was to be theirs, it appeared as 
 if a living raven was flying in the midst of it ; but, if 
 they were to be conquered, then it hung perpendicu- 
 larly and immoveable. 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 351 
 
 Asser, in endeavouring to trace the causes which led 
 to Alfred's desperate state, remarks, that not only did 
 God vouchsafe to this most vain-glorious of Kings, 
 victory over his enemies and triumph over his adversa- 
 ries — but in benignity, he allowed him to be vexed by 
 enemies, to be afflicted by adversities, and even to be 
 held up to the contempt of his own people; that he 
 might know there is but one God to whom every knee 
 should bow, in whose hand are the hearts of Kings, 
 who puts down the powerful from the throne and exalts 
 the humble ; and that God sometimes tries his faithful 
 ones, when in their highest prosperity, by the scourges 
 of adversity ; in order that neither should the depressed 
 despair of His mercy, nor should those exult who are 
 in honour; but that they should know they owe all 
 things which they have to Him. 
 
 He adds, that in the early part of his reign, when his 
 subjects came to him for relief, when those who were 
 oppressed by men in power implored his aid, he would 
 neither listen to, nor aid, but wholly neglected them: — 
 that his relative Saint Neotus, for his sins, predicted 
 that the greatest adversity would befal him, but that 
 Alfred cared little for his rebuke, and would not heed 
 his prediction : — and, because that men must either be 
 punished here or hereafter, Alfred often fell into such 
 miseries, that no one of his subjects knew where he was 
 or what had become of hint 
 
 In this, his last, bitter extremity of misery and hu- 
 
352 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 miliation, he learnt the severe, but divine lesson, that 
 people are not made for the support of the silly osten- 
 tation, or the unfeeling luxury of kings, but that kings 
 are placed and maintained by the Almighty, in their 
 exalted and revered station, for the benefit, and bless- 
 ing, and service of their people : and that British 
 people, equally with, if not above all others, while 
 they abhor, and revolt against tyrants, heartily love, 
 and cheerfully support and defend good kings.— He 
 now resolved to subdue his own selfishness, to forego 
 his own temporary pleasure or advantage, steadily to 
 discharge his kingly duties, neither to neglect, nor to 
 prey upon, nor to oppress, nor to suffer his nobles, nor 
 servants, to oppress, nor to prey upon his people. — He, 
 nobly, perilled his life for them ; they, joyfully, pe- 
 rilled their lives for him : and, in the utmost depth of 
 his vilest degradation, the moment which saw him rise 
 up a repentant and a patriot king, saw gather around 
 him a gradually increasing, brave and indignant people, 
 sternly resolved, under God's blessing, to die, or to 
 redeem their country. — And both he and they, pursued 
 their object faithfully, steadily, skilfully, and success- 
 fully. 
 
 Neither he nor they, afterwards forgot their recipro- 
 cal duties. — He ruled humanely, considerately, and 
 wisely : they obeyed gratefully, willingly, and devoted- 
 ly : — and, as their conquest, by the Pagans, shewed 
 the certain destruction which must attend disunion; 
 the victory of the Christians over Guthrun, and espe- 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 353 
 
 cially tlieir subsequent triumphs over Hastings, beauti- 
 fully displayed the assured prosperity which blesses the 
 union of a patriotic king and a patriotic people. 
 
 After Easter, in the same year 878, Alfred, with a 
 few of his followers built a citadel in iEthelingaeg ; 
 and from that fortified post, in conjunction with his 
 nobles and vassals of Somersetshire, continually, and 
 indefatigably waged war against the Pagans. 
 
 In the seventh week after Easter he rode to the stone 
 iEgbryhta, (thirty miles in a straight line from Athel- 
 ney), which lies in the Eastern part of Selwood forest. 
 
 There, were assembled all those inhabitants of Somer- 
 shire, Wiltshire, and Hampshire, who had not fled 
 beyond sea, and who exultingly received him as one 
 who had risen from the dead. — There they entrenched 
 themselves for one night. — Thence, by the earliest 
 dawn of the succeeding day, they marched to iEcglea, 
 and there they entrenched themselves for one night. — 
 Thence, also by the earliest dawn, he advanced his 
 Stand ard^ to Ethandum, and in a densely-compacted, 
 shield-interlocked body, they fiercely charged the 
 whole Pagan army ; and, persisting long and vigorously 
 in the attack, by divine aid, they at length gained the 
 victory : — they overthrew the Pagans with great slaugh- 
 ter, and harassed the fugitives, beating them down 
 until they reached their Citadel. All that he met with 
 outside the fortified Camp or Citadel, men, horses, or 
 
 2 c 
 
354 CUUSOKY NOTES. 
 
 flocks, he intercepted, instantly killing the men. He 
 boldly entrenched himself before the gate, with all his 
 army, and there blockaded the enemy for fourteen 
 days, until the Pagans, driven to extremity by hunger, 
 fear, and cold, (an interestingly corroborative circum- 
 stance, for, although it was verging upon the middle of 
 May, it yet was not only the last breath of " black- 
 t horn-winter," but the winds, ranging over the exten- 
 sive sweep of country, are always felt severely at that 
 place J and terrified into desperation, earnestly begged 
 for peace, upon condition that the King, should no- 
 minate and accept from them as many hostages as he 
 might please ; and that he should not give any hostages 
 to them ; so that at length they proposed such a peace 
 as had never before been made. 
 
 Their embassy having been heard by the King ; he, 
 moved by his own compassion, nominated as many hos- 
 tages as he saw fit : which having been received by him, 
 the Pagans forthwith swore that they would quit Wessex 
 with the utmost rapidity. — Godrun their King also 
 promised to become a Christian, and to accept baptism 
 at the hands of Alfred. 
 
 All which was fulfilled on either side : and, after 
 seven weeks preparation, Godrun and thirty of the 
 most distinguished men of his army, were baptized at 
 Aire, near to iEthelingaeg ; and Alfred received God- 
 run as the son of his adoption ; and the chrisming was 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 355 
 
 kept for eight days, in the Royal residence of Wcedinor, 
 nearly five miles distant from the present Axbridge. 
 
 He remained twelve nights with the King, who 
 munificently presented to him and to his officers many 
 and splendid houses. 
 
 In 879, Gothrun, now named Athelstan, removed 
 to Cirrenceastre ; and in 880, and in the thirty-second 
 year of Alfred's age, they quitted Cirencester, and 
 settling in East Anglia, divided the lands amongst 
 them. 
 
 This account was thoroughly comprehensible in the 
 days of Asser ; but, modern ignorance of the real 
 situation of the respective places which he has named, 
 has made such a tangled web of it, that the truth seems 
 to be perfectly inextricable. 
 
 The situation of iEthelingaeg, or Atheling-ce, or eye, 
 appears, by something like the general consent of 
 writers, to have been the modern Isle of Athelney, at 
 the junction of the Tone, which runs from Wellington 
 and Taunton on the West ; of the Yeo, from Yeovil 
 and Ilchester on the South-east ; and of another stream 
 
 2 c 2 
 
356 CUliSORY NOTES. 
 
 from Somerton, nearly due East, which uniting, form 
 the river Pedrida, or Parret. 
 
 At that time it consisted of but, about, two acres 
 of dry land, surrounded by a morass, covered with 
 Alder trees; and excepting by boats, or by a bridge 
 at the western end, it was quite inaccessible. 
 
 But, where Ethandum was, is lost in the mist of 
 time. 
 
 By other authors the place is called Assandune, Ed- 
 derandun, and Ethandune. — Camden, Gibson, Gough, 
 Hoare, and Freeman, (in his map) fix it as at Edding- 
 ton, near to Westbury, in Wiltshire ; and conceive that 
 Bratton-Castle was the fortified post to which the 
 Pagans fled ; and the representation of a White Horse 
 on the side of the Chalk hill is considered to have been 
 made in commemoration of the fight; but it unfortu- 
 nately happens that, in 1742, Wise was informed that it 
 was formed within then living memory. 
 
 Milner thinks it was at Heddington, about a 
 mile north of an ancient Camp upon Roundway, Bea- 
 con, or Bagdon hill, and about three miles North-north- 
 west of Devizes ; and that the Pagans took refuge in 
 Oldbury Camp, near to which there is also a White- 
 Horse; but which is certainly modern, for it is not 
 only well-drawn, but, unfortunately for its antiquity, has 
 a docked and nicked tail. 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 357 
 
 Lysons, thinks it was at Heddington near to Hun- 
 gerford in Berkshire, which is thirty-five miles from 
 Brixton Deverill or iEgbryhta-stan, and therefore too far 
 away for the Christian army to get fresh into the field. 
 
 Whitaker, thinks the battle was fought at Yatton, 
 five miles from Chippenham, and that the Pagans re- 
 treated to a Camp in North-wood, Bury-wood, upon 
 Colerne down, on the Fosse way near to Wraxhall and 
 Slaughter-ford. 
 
 If it were worth while to add to this pretty confusion, 
 a claim might be put in for Edington upon the range 
 of hills, five miles, nearly East, from Bridgwater, 
 Somersetshire, and the retreat of the Pagans placed at 
 a camp close to the Roman roadway from Exmoor 
 through Bridgwater, to Portishead on the Bristol 
 Channel. 
 
 The situation of iEcglea is in just as glorious an un- 
 certainty. — Claims have been set up for Leigh, near to 
 "Westbury, for Highley near to Whadden, for Clee-Hill, 
 near to Warminster, and for some place in Berkshire. 
 
 Not improbably it was a patch of Oak trees, in a 
 meadow or plain ; and, these having been swept away, 
 it's real place will never be ascertained. 
 
 If the situations of ancient forts and camps were to 
 be taken into consideration, it would be exceedingly 
 
 /4c4 a/i/U^j /* k /& %urr/Atr& l 4£ 
 
 ■Jte 
 
358 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 difficult to know where to stay conjecture in a County 
 so thickly studded with such relics as the whole coun- 
 try around Salisbury Plain has been ; and it is curious 
 to observe how nearly these lie upon straight lines, 
 which may often be drawn to pass through three, or 
 four, and in one instance through six of them, connect- 
 ing Buckland rings, Hants, with Salisbury Hill, in 
 Gloucestershire. 
 
 The place of /Egbryhta-stan is stated to have been 
 in the Eastern part of Selwood forest, which stretched 
 from Peonna or Penselwood, at least to the Avon, even 
 if it were not joined to Melksham, Chippenham, and 
 Braden Forest, and connected with the Chase at Devi- 
 zes. — Selwood Forest chiefly consisted of "Willow trees. 
 — Westbury appears to have been upon its Eastern 
 border ; but, as all North Wilts had been thickly 
 covered by trees, it is not unlikely, that the great 
 valley south of Devizes was at least well sheltered ; 
 and that, among the woods there might have been one, 
 distinctly named vEcglea. This valley used, in bad 
 weather, as Sir William Waller found it, to be " among 
 the worst of ways," and in those early times might 
 have been still much worse marching ground. 
 
 It does not appear unreasonable to take it as true 
 that Brixton-Deverell was the site of Ecbryht stone. 
 
 Where was iEcglea? — Asser says it was a day's 
 march distant. — Clay or Clee-hill is but four miles and 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 359 
 
 a half from Brixton Deverell, and one cannot think 
 that, a day's march for an army which started by day 
 break in the middle of May, with above fifteen hours 
 light : while it is six miles and a half from Eddington, 
 to reach which, so as to surprise the Pagans, the army 
 had also to start by day break. — It is also to be re- 
 marked that the line of march from Clay Hill to Ed- 
 dington, would have been past Bratton Castle or Camp, 
 in which one cannot but suppose there must have been 
 some troops, to have seen them pass close by it, and 
 therefore to have given the alarm, however careless and 
 secure the main body might have been. 
 
 Milner's selection of Heddington does not appear to 
 be liable to such material objections : Heddington 
 is now but a small village at the foot of this western 
 end of the Chalk-formation. On the northern side of 
 this spur from the range of downs is Oldbury, an an- 
 cient British Camp, very irregularly oval, inclosed with 
 two complete lines of circumvallation home to the 
 precipitous northern side of the hill, and having the 
 inner vallum returned so as to flank the entrance, which 
 is also protected by outworks. All is now in much 
 confusion. It is made conspicuous from the high- 
 road between Calne and Marlborough, by an obelisk 
 lately erected by the Marquis of Lansdowne, and which 
 is said to be visible from Wales. Upon the southern 
 side is the enclosure called Roundway, or Oliver's 
 Castle. These points are four miles and a half apart. 
 From Roundway Castle the prospect towards Bath is 
 
360 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 very extensive, but shut in by the high ground of 
 Salisbury Plain from Bratton Castle eastward. From 
 Oldbury the panoramic view is most splendid, especially 
 towards the north, west and east. — Taking the two 
 points, all North Wilts is at your feet. 
 
 Heddington is by the map, eighteen miles, in a direct 
 line, from Brixton Deverill, about a mile from Round- 
 way Camp, six miles from Chippenham, about half a 
 mile from the Wansdyke, one mile from the Roman 
 road, between Aqua3 Solis, and Cunetio (Mildenhall) 
 the ancient station Verlucio being upon the road, 
 at one mile and a quarter from Heddington ; — Old- 
 bury Camp is three miles and a half north east of the 
 latter place, and about three quarters of a mile 
 north of the Roman road, upon higher ground, but 
 separated from Roundway-down by the valley in which 
 Heddington and Calstone lie. The ascent to Round- 
 way, or Oliver's camp, is steep on the southern and 
 western sides, but it is easily accessible, from the East- 
 ward, in the vicinity of the present New Park, and the 
 ascent to Oldbury from Cherhill on it's northern front 
 is practicable with steady exertion, but very sharp. 
 
 This to a Civilian's eye, would appear to be a very 
 strong position, and one to which one might readily 
 suppose the Pagan army might have moved across 
 the hill-ground and the vale from Chippenham, as good 
 Spring quarters, and better situate for observing any 
 hostile movement, and with the lines of the Wansdyke 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 361 
 
 and of the Roman road, and with the then remains of 
 Verlucio and of Oldbuiy Camp to retire upon, if 
 attacked on either hand, well calculated for defence ; 
 and if the battle really took place here, Alfred's 
 daring would be vastly enhanced by these cir- 
 cumstances : — Nor is it at all improbable, that these 
 Pagans, who scarcely ever moved without entrenching 
 themselves, might have been posted in a really strong 
 position, although in the drunken license of a time of, 
 apparently, the most perfect security from an enemy 
 whom they had crushed into the dust, they might have 
 been very careless in guarding it. 
 
 Taking it that iEcglea, means Oakfield or meadow, 
 — as Selwood Forest consisted of Willow trees, it is not 
 very likely, although not impossible, that there was a 
 wood of oaks among them ; or, one might conjecture 
 that Alfred traversed the country under concealment of 
 the Forest, so as to get to the northward of Edding- 
 ton, and thence to have pounced down upon and driven 
 the Pagans back into Bratton Camp. 
 
 Mr. Walker's hint that Alfred might have marched 
 between Bratton Castle and Eddington, so as to have 
 cut the enemy off from their Camp, has two difficulties 
 in it's way : — first, that he would have risked placing 
 himself between two fires, — and next that the Pagans 
 must have cut their way through the Christians, or 
 they could not have regained their Camp. 
 
362 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 Indeed there does not seem to have been any very- 
 cogent reason for the Pagans to have moved their head 
 quarters so far from Chippenham as to Bratton, when 
 their enemy was no more. — 
 
 An accurate, and military knowledge of the country 
 could alone decide between the respective claims of 
 Eddington and Heddington ; but it would seem that 
 the distance of the latter place from iEgbryhta-stan 
 would better accord with the marching time stated by 
 Asser, than would that of Eddington, which, by the 
 most direct way, does not exceed ten miles from the 
 same starting point. — I am much inclined to suggest, 
 that Alfred and his people, so well knowing the coun- 
 try as they must have done, and especially after his 
 later predatory attacks, and his espial of the Pagan 
 Camp, marched from Erixton Deverill, under shelter 
 of the waving ground, and of the thickets and other 
 wood land, either past Warminster and between West- 
 bury, Trowbridge, and Melksham on the west, and 
 Devizes on the east, and so might have fallen upon Hed- 
 dington from the west, or else to some point Eastward 
 of Roundway, or Bagdon Hill, keeping so far away 
 as to be out of sight and hearing of their opponents ; 
 and having had one night's rest ; in an oak field or 
 wood, at break of day might have passed over the Hill, by 
 it's accessible Eastern side at New Park and a little to 
 the North of Roundway Castle or Camp ; and, pene- 
 trating westward, cut them off from retreating to Chip- 
 penham, or even from taking post upon the ruins of 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 3fc>5 
 
 Verlucio ; and then drove them from Heddington 
 along the valley and past Calstone into Oldbary Castle 
 or Camp, and there locked them in. — 
 
 Seeing that Alfred's predatory attacks from Athel- 
 ney were, in all probability, upon the Western side of 
 the Pagan Camp, and possibly also from the South- 
 ward ; he might have found them less prepared upon 
 the Eastern side, when he, in disguise, examined their 
 camp ; and therefore have marched so as to turn their 
 position, and thus to make his sudden and daring 
 attack more certain. 
 
 It may be objected that the distance of Heddington 
 from Athelney, would have been an obstacle to Alfred, 
 in his exploratory visit to the Pagan Camp, but when 
 it is considered that the distances from Athelney to 
 Eddington or to Heddington are as thirty seven miles 
 to forty-four, the additional seven miles would have 
 made but little difference to so bold a hunter and 
 warrior as he was. 
 
 The commemorative White Horse upon Bratton Hill, 
 as well as that upon Oldbury Hill ; and Alfred's tower 
 near to the beacon of Jack's Castle, are all of compara- 
 tively modern date. Neither of them can therefore affect 
 the question. Nor can much reliance be placed upon 
 the discovery of warlike relics, for that nearly all 
 Wiltshire appears to have been sown with them so thickly 
 as to set at defiance any attempt to establish the site of 
 
364 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 any particular battle by them : yet it has to be con- 
 sidered that this end of the down land has at least it's 
 full share of such testimonies. 
 
 Thus terminated the Defence of Wessex, against the 
 unrighteous war of conquest, waged by the Sons of 
 Kagnar Lodbrock. 
 
 The defence of England against the like pertinacious 
 attacks of the bold, but unprincipled Hastings, may have 
 been more glorious ; but, although it's history brings 
 into prominent relief all Alfred's high qualities, and 
 shews how The Patriot King was nobly rewarded in 
 the unbounded attachment of his admiring people ; 
 yet it does not so distinctly shew how surely prosperity 
 attends the union of Prince and People ; — how, in 
 God's providential ruling, adversity as certainly befals 
 both King and People whenever they forget their 
 bounden duties to each other : — and how prosperity as 
 certainly arises from the extremest depth of misery, 
 when King and People place themselves in God's hands : 
 -^-and how little to be despaired of is that country, in 
 which all classes unite heart and hand to guard it 
 against aggression. 
 
 Barely two acres of solid ground, in the midst of a 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 365 
 
 quaking morass, held all Wessex in her utmost adver- 
 sity. — From that two acres of solid ground, her chas- 
 tened, her penitent, her patriotically resolved king, not 
 only reconquered all that had been lost, but became 
 all but Monarch of all the Southern half of Britain ; 
 and, from a homeless fugitive, arose the best, the 
 noblest, the most renowned, the best beloved of all 
 England's kings ; revered, almost adored by his people ; 
 respected and honoured by surrounding nations : — the 
 Country and the King beautifully illustrating the 
 wise man's observation, "righteousness exalteth a 
 nation, but sin is the destruction of any people." 
 
 Very ingenious parallels have been drawn between 
 the lives of remarkable men, and a skilful writer might 
 make an interesting and instructive comparison between 
 Alfred, and The Man after God's own heart : due and 
 reverential allowance being made for the wide differ- 
 ence of situation of the one, as divinely chosen, and 
 of the other, as merely selected by an earthly parent. 
 
 Judoea had, for it's idolatry, been given into the 
 hands of the surrounding Pagans, and been repeatedly 
 subjected by them. 
 
 England, either possessed in part by Pagans, or en- 
 
366 CURSORY NOTES. 
 
 ervated by a lethargic and idolatrous superstition, was 
 chastened by Pagan invaders. 
 
 David the youngest son of Jesse, a youth of beauti- 
 ful countenance, was, by divine selection, anointed by 
 Samuel the Prophet, as the future king of Israel : the 
 Jews then having a king, and that king having a Son. 
 — Yet, although he became the conqueror of Goliath, 
 an inmate of the Royal House, and beloved by all the 
 people, and conscious of his, really, divine right to the 
 throne ; he invariably, and under the most trying cir- 
 cumstances never forgot his respect and allegiance to 
 his King ; and never attempted to assume power, until 
 that it pleased God to make his way clear, by the death 
 of Saul ; and even then he lamented the death which 
 opened to him the path of honour. 
 
 Alfred, the youngest of iEthelwulfs sons, of beau- 
 tiful person, was selected by his father, and was 
 anointed by Leo, the head of the then corrupted, but 
 Christian Church, as the future King. — Caressed by 
 Kings, beloved by all, and conscious of his high dig- 
 nity, he yet zealously obeyed each of his three elder 
 brethren, and never attempted to assume the throne, 
 until they had all been removed by death ; and even 
 then reluctantly took it, until, agreeably to the laws 
 of his country, he had been duly selected by the 
 people. 
 
 David was a most pious, nay an inspired man, yet 
 
CURSORY NOTES. 367 
 
 sinned he most grievously in his cruelty and lust, — and 
 as bitterly repented. 
 
 Alfred was singularly pious from his very childhood, 
 —yet sinned in petulance, intemperance and in cruel 
 judgments, and was only saved from incontinence by 
 most earnest prayer. He also bitterly repented. 
 
 David was an inspired poet, a musician, and dancer, 
 — and a consummate warrior. 
 
 Alfred ardently loved and excelled in poetry, and 
 music, and bodily exercises : — and was a skilful war- 
 rior. 
 
 David, for his grievous sins, was rebelled against by 
 his son Absalom, driven from his throne, deserted by 
 his people, opprobriously insulted by Shimei, and led 
 a wandering life in sorrow, and in penitence. — He was 
 ultimately restored to his throne, and died in honour. 
 
 Alfred, for his sins, was deserted by his people, driven 
 from his throne, fled into miserable obscurity, led a life 
 of privation and hardship. — He was wonderfully re- 
 stored to his dignity, and died in honour. 
 
 David's memory was beloved, and is still revered, 
 not only by his countrymen, but by all the world, as 
 one of the best of the Jewish Kings. 
 
368 CURSOltY NOTES. 
 
 Alfred's memory was cherished, and is still revered, 
 not only by Englishmen, but by all nations which 
 have heard his history, as a truly good, and truly 
 patriot King ; the best of his rank. 
 
 Neither David, nor Alfred are held up as having 
 possessed superhuman perfection. Great and good as 
 they both were, they still were mortal, subject to the 
 infirmities and vices, and sins of men, and both were 
 punished for their crimes by the same unerring divine 
 providence : and both will, probabty, be honoured to 
 the latest posterity of their respective nations, as en- 
 samples of such Kingly virtues as but seldom bless the 
 Earth. 
 
CHALFONT. 
 
 Oh, have you gazed on the morning's hue ? 
 
 Oh, have you breathed the fresh morning's dew ? 
 
 Oh, have you listened and listened still 
 
 As the morn-breeze swept down the crisped hill, 
 
 Loading it's wings with the streamlet's wealth, 
 
 Whispering of peace, of joy, of health? 
 
 Have you e'er dwelt on the bee's sweet song, 
 
 And watched him riot the flowers among ? 
 
 And have you noted the insect glee, 
 
 The bounding, the whirling revelry, 
 
 And seen them winnow the glad sun beam, 
 
 And dart and flash, like the diamond's gleam? 
 
 Has e'er your eager, unsated sense, 
 Drank deep of that music's eloquence, 
 Until you have heard, or seemed to hear 
 Legions of fairies trooping near ; 
 Have seen them glance as meteors by 
 Carolling their honied minstrelsy, 
 
 2d 
 
370 CHALFONT. 
 
 Have seen them couch in the dew-bent rose, 
 Have seen them the lily's fair cup unclose, 
 Have watched them cling to the fox-glove's stem, 
 And dance on the green-sward's diadem, 
 And hide and seek among dew-drops bright, 
 Spangling the earth with heaven's own light ? 
 
 Oh, have you felt from the clear, cold sky 
 The thrill of the soaring lark's melody ? 
 Have you mounting, mounting, seen him rise 
 A spirit of joy in his native skies ? 
 Oh, have you chorussed his grateful hymn ? 
 Have you ever praised your God, like him ? 
 
 And, have you fled when the fervid sun 
 Has flamed, has blazed in his highest noon, 
 And cooled your brow in the linden's shade, 
 Drawn in the breath of the perfumed glade, 
 And dreamt that the sweet-briar, flowering nigh, 
 Was laden with zephyrs from Araby ? 
 
 While the new-mown hay has wafted along 
 On it's odorous gale the maiden's song, 
 And the land-rail's creak, here, there, or here, 
 Jarred and bewildered the wondering ear, 
 And the merry chaffinch chattered with glee, 
 His sharp short note from the holmen tree ? 
 
 Oh, have you e'er, when the calm, clear even, 
 Cools the wide arch of the sultry heaven, 
 
CHALFONT. 371 
 
 When the bright, white fleck turns sober grey, 
 When the red flush marks declining day, 
 And the glow ascending higher and higher, 
 Earth is roofed over with fretted fire ; 
 
 And, athwart the glory, come streaming home 
 The daw and rook from their distant roam, 
 And hover, and sweep around their nest, 
 And drowsily clamour themselves to rest ; 
 While swift, and flitter-mouse dazzle the eye, 
 And the round black dorr comes droning by ? 
 
 Oh, have you e'er, in that witching hour 
 Owned all it's blest, soul-subduing power, 
 And bowed, and bent the reverent knee, 
 And worshipped Heaven's sole Majesty ? 
 Oh, have you e'er in that holiest mood, 
 Clung to, and loved such sweet solitude, 
 
 And watched the still, white, evening steam, 
 Climb from the far down low-gurgling stream, 
 Spreading it's billowy tresses chill 
 Over lea, and meadow, and plain, and hill ; 
 And watched until the cressets on high 
 Chequered with gold the calm-sleeping sky_: 
 
 And watched, still watched, while the placid moon 
 Trod her trackless path towards night's deep noon; 
 And dwelt on the ban-dog's baying howl, 
 And shrunk from the hiss of the startled owl, 
 
372 CHALFONT. 
 
 And trembled, dismayed, as the harsh night-jar 
 Proclaimed ruin, havoc, distress, and war : 
 
 Yet lingered, lingered, yet lingered still, 
 Loving the gloom of the slumbering hill ; 
 Yet lingered, lingered, yet lingered on, 
 'Till each fading trace of day was gone, 
 Nor until then, sought your lowly rest, 
 Cradling in hope upon heaven's breast ? 
 
 If thus you have felt, then come with me ; 
 Gaze on yon high, embowering tree, 
 Gaze on the spruce fir, the pine, the larch, 
 Gaze on the barberry's pensile arch, 
 Gaze on each leaf, each tendril, each stem, 
 Gaze on the mosses which cling to them, 
 
 Gaze, gaze with me : yet gaze silently, 
 Heave not the spirit-relieving sigh, 
 Speak not, and move not : I would be still, 
 Would think 'till memory have had her fill, 
 Would think 'till she pour her gushing tear : — 
 My last, sad, step has been trodden here. 
 
 Chalfont ! endeared by The Poet's tread, 
 Along thy Mist-bourne's rush-fringed bed ; 
 Thou, thou hast heard the entranced song 
 Echo thy orchards, thy woods among, 
 And wondered, in awe, as the deep-toned note, 
 In each breath, each zephyr, each gale would float. 
 
CHALFONT. 373 
 
 Thou canst glory in Milton's mighty strain, 
 Such song as Earth shall not hear again ; 
 And I would embalm thee while Memory 
 Shall in her dark, secret chamber lie, 
 And Silence and Contemplation still 
 Shall walk in joy on thy breezy hill. 
 
 I may not see thy fair charms again : 
 Fettered and bound to the haunts of men, 
 Linked, tightly linked to the harsh turmoil, 
 The City's anxious, unceasing toil, 
 I can but think of thy meads of peace, 
 I can but dream of thy bowers of bliss. 
 
 Yet can I treasure, in this chill breast, 
 The pleasures which cling around thy rest : 
 And whenever the breeze shall by me float, 
 Whenever I hear each rustic note, 
 Can close my eyes, and fly back to thee 
 On the lightning wings of memory. 
 
 I thus can again thy borders tread, 
 
 There converse hold with the dear-loved dead ; 
 
 There see compassion bedew her eye 
 
 At the sacred call of misery, 
 
 And gladly again around dispense 
 
 The stores of her wide beneficence : 
 
 Can think, if I hear a sheep-bell nigh, 
 If a cawing rook sail slowly by, 
 
374 CHALFONT. 
 
 If a garden wren before me glance, 
 If the mavis' note my soul entrance, 
 Can think of thee, — and the grateful tear, 
 Shall roll on to Acton's honoured bier. 
 
 The minstrel's harp may with pleasure ring, 
 The minstrel band may exulting sing, 
 The bard's high lay may ennoble all, 
 In court of king or in baron's hall, 
 But nor poet's fire, nor minstrel's art, 
 Could exalt that kindness-ennobled heart. 
 
 The tree has fallen, it's glory fled 
 
 Man may not pray for the unconscious dead 
 
 As it has fallen, so must it lie, 
 
 In the bosom of lone Eternity : 
 
 But, oh, may He who once came to save 
 
 Man from the fiery penal grave, 
 
 Atone for her sin, and before The Throne, 
 
 Rejoice in a spirit for ever his own. 
 
THE VALEDICTION. 
 
 Should any kind-hearted, adventurous, and persever- 
 ing reader, have toiled thus far, without desiring to 
 obliterate the V, and to substitute an M, for his waste 
 of time : — should any one have derived, from my soli- 
 tary amusement, a momentary pleasure : — should any 
 one have met with a stray passage, which he may wish 
 to store in memory : — but especially, should any one 
 have been, though but a little, improved either in 
 head, or heart : — I will not say it will sufficiently, — it 
 will over-reward my labour ; for, it has already been 
 sufficiently rewarded in my own incommunicable en- 
 joyment : — and, if it do not cheer my downward path, 
 it will at least cause one pretty flower to bloom around 
 my feet. 
 
 Hoping, that in this song-coining, I have neither 
 disgraced my relatives, my friends, my fellow-citizens, 
 nor my Brother Haberdashers, in good, old, citizen 
 fashion. 
 
 I bid you all, most heartily, 
 Farewell, 
 RICHAKD KELSEY. 
 
LONDON : 
 
 Brewster and West, Printers, 
 Hand Court. Dowcate. 
 
 '64,5 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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