THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES GUIDO AND LITA A TALE OF THE RIVIERA ORLES. [Frontispicc GUIDO AND LITA §, %i\\t 0f t\t giil)icra BY THE RIGHT HON. THE MARQUIS OF LORNE H7'J 7/ /A L US TRA TIONS. NEW YORK MACMILLAN AND CO X875 s. 612750 rniBiMtr From countless terraces/where olives rise, Unchillcd by autumn's blast, or wintry skies." [Page 2. GUIDO AND LITA ^ f aU 0f tilt 'gMtxu, AIL, Eiviera ! hail, the mountain range That guards from northern winds, and seasons' change, Yon southern spurs, descending fast to be The sun-Ht capes along the tideless sea ; Whose waters, azure as the sky above, Reflect the glories of the scene they love ! Here every slope, and intervening dale, Yields a sweet fragrance to the passing gale. From the thick woods, where dark caroubas twine Their massive verdure with the hardier pine, And, 'mid the rocks, or hid in hollowed cave. The fern and iris in profusion wave ; 4 OUIDO AND LITA: From countless terraces, where olives rise, Uncliilled by autumn's blast, or wintry skies. And round the stems, within the dusky shade, The red anemones their home have made ; From gardens, where its breath forever blows Through myrtle thickets, and their wreaths of rose. Like the proud lords who oft, with clash of mail, Would daunt the commerce that the trader's sail Had sought to bring, enriching and to bless. The lands they jjlagued with conflict and distress. Till none but robber chiefs and galley slaves Euled the fair shores or l^ode the tranquil waves, — So stand theii* forts upon the hills ; with towers Still fi'owning, sullen at the genial showers. That, brought on white-winged clouds, have come to dower The arid soil with recreative power. No warrior's tread is echoed by their halls. No warder's challenge on the silence falls. Around, the thrifty peasants ply their toil And pluck in orange gi'oves the scented spoil From trees, that have for purple mountains made A vestment bright of green, and gold inlaid. The women, baskets poised above their brows. In long array beneath the citron boughs Drive on the loaded mules with sound-^^f bells. Turbia's trophy stamped the tyrant's will. [Page 4. A TALE OF THE BIVIERA. n o That, in the distance, of their presence tells. To springs that, hid from the pursuing day. Love only Night ; who, loving them, doth stay In the deep waters, moss and reed o'ergrown, — Or cold in caverns of the chilly stone, — Sought of the steep-built towns, whose white walls gleam High 'midst the woods, or close by ocean's stream. Like flowering aloes, the fair belfries soar O'er houses clustered on the sandy shore ; From ancient battlements the eye surveys A hundred lofty peaks and curving bays, From where, at mom and eve, the sun may paint The cliffs of Corsica with colours faint ; To where the fleets of haughty Genoa plied The trade that humbled the Venetian's pride, And the blue wastes, where roamed the men who came To leaguer tower and town with sword and flame. For by that shore, the scene of soft repose When happy Peace her benison bestows. Have storms, more dire than Nature's, lashed the coasts, When met the tides of fierce contending hosts ; From the far days when first Liguria's hordes Stemmed for a while the rush of Roman swords, Only to mark how, on their native hill, Turbia's trophy stamped the tp'ant's will ; To those bright hours that saw the Moslem reel Back from the conflict with the Christian steel. Q GUIDO AND LITA: These last were times when, emulous for creed, And for his soul to battle and to bleed. The warrior had no need of pilgi'im's vow. At eastern shrines, to lay the Pajoiim low ; For through the west, the Saracen had spread The night that followed where his standards led. Not with the pomp or art Granada saw Keign in her lands, beneath the Prophet's law, Did the mde pirates here assert their sway : — No gilded talons seized the quivering prey ; Savage the hand, and pitiless the blow, That wrought the swift and oft-recurring woe. No boon, no mercy, could the captive ask ; If spared to live, his doom the deadly task To strain — a slave — each muscle at the oar That brought the rover to the kinsman's door. Or bore him, safe from the pursuit, away. The plunder stored, to Algiers' hated bay. With the dread terror that their raids instilled Sank every hope, by which the l^eart is filled Among the poor to labour and to hoard ; And e'en the merchant, for his gains adored, Dared not to venture, or to gather more. Where danger's form seemed darkening all before. (') Only in narrow streets, where guarded wall, A TALE OF TEE BIVIERA. And higli-raised watch-tower gave tlie signal call When foes were near, to gather in defence, Did the scared people wake from impotence : — And yet, neglecting what could give them power, In jealous feuds they spent the prosperous hour ; While only adding to their grief's great load. Each baron kept within his strong abode. Careless of wars that yielded httle prize, They let the havoc spread beneath their eyes ; Content, if driven from their own estate. The baffled spoiler sought another's gate. Thus, through disunion, and their selfish greed. The Moor, unharmed performed his venturous deed. These Alps, the fastnesses of high Savoy, Became his home ; these fertile plains his joy. E'en now the sounds of his barbaric speech In many a word, his lingering influence teach ; Eor men will copy, 'neath a yoke abhorred All, save the art to wield the conqueror's sword ! Whence then the strategy, or force, or guile, That bade foul Fortune turn at length, and smile Upon a region like a very heaven, But vexed by man with hatred's cankering leaven ? See, where the mountain stretches forth a limb, Down to the full sea's palpitating brim, 8 GUIDO AND LIT A: Dividing by that brawny arm the plain, Just where a river swiftly seeks the main ; Upon the topmost ridge of its clenched hand Appears a castle, strongest in the land. From the hard rock the grisly ramparts rise, Their front illumined by the morning skies : And, sweeping fi'om their broadening base away The Hne of wall, the burghers' hope and stay. Encircles with low towers the stony mass Where, densely packed, the dwellings heap the pass ; And girdling still the fast-descending steep, Crests the last ridge that overhangs the deep. Beneath the cliff the fishing vessels float With long- winged sails o'erarching every boat, But where the river's mouth has made a port, Guarded to seaward by yon square-built fort, And near the rocks without the harbour bar, Eise taller masts, with many a stronger spar. On the broad decks that bear them may be heard From time to time, the sharp commanding word ; But oftener far the sounds that meet the ear Are the rough songs that tell the soldier's cheer, The laughter loud and long, the shouted jest, The tireless clamour of his time of rest. When Danger draws not nigh, -udth finger cold Enforcing silence on her followers bold. A TALE OF THE EIVIERA Yet tliese are men wlio, if there come affront, Seem ready now to bear lier sternest brunt : For some are polisbing their arms, that shine In fitful flashes o'er the sparkhng brine ; And some have landed, and in order move Past the dai'k belts of yonder ilex grove ; Or, stationed singly, drill and fence with care, And hew with sword and axe the glancing au\ Now, on the road that leads fi'om out the town. Appear two knights, who slowly wend them down, Till reached the ground, where still the men-at-arms Kepeat the mimicry of war's alarms. But when among them wave the chief's gay plumes, Each, in the ordered line, his place assumes ; And waits, with steadied gaze, and lowered brand. Tin every weapon hi each rank is scanned. The elder knight, whose fierce and haughty mien In his firm stride, and on his brow was seen. Was grizzled, swarthy, and his forehead worn By scars of fight and time, not lightly borne ; For the dimmed eye that gazed, deep-sunk, beneath. Showed that the spirit's blade had worn its sheath ; And that fuU soon the years must have an end In which, on friend or foe, that glance should bend. The younger man, who followed at his side. 10 GUIDO AND LITA: Bore tlie same impress of a lofty pride. But all liis bearing lacked the rigid mould That in the elder of tough metal told ; Thus as the sire, with patient care, surveys How every movement practised skill displays ; The son would saunter heedlessly along. His lips just murmuring as they shaped a song. His large grey eye was restless as the thought That fixed no purpose in the mind it sought. One jewelled hand was on his dagger laid, With pointed beard the other often played, Or swept from neck and shoulder curls that, flung In studied negligence, upon them hung. Yet though he seemed irresolute and weak, A flush of 23ride would rise upon his cheek, When his sire chid him, "as a stripling vain, — Almost unworthy of this gallant train," And told him, if he cared not for such state. To "go, play ball within the castle gate !" Then backward falling for a little space, • A pain was pictured on his handsome face : The dark brows met, the shapely Hps were pressed, The nostril curved, as if for breath distressed. But, as a glistening wave that quickly flies From the cloud-shadow where its brightness dies, To travel, laughing, onward as before. With not a sign of any change it bore ; A TALE OF THE RIVIERA. H Did the liglit temper of the comely knight Forget in jo^'ousness the father's shght ; And snailing, answered, "Nay, my lord, you ne'er Let me see use, in all this pageant fair ; For, save upon the field of their parade, These gallant soldiers never bare a blade." "Enough," the father answered, "that they keep Our home from outward harm, or treason deep. And that you only hear, and have not seen, Aught of what they in other days have been. Before I made the town and yonder rock Proof to the miseries you would lightly mock." Thus speaking, with a few of their armed band The two passed slowly to the yellow sand. Listening the while to wants of those who came To offer homage, or prefer a claim. When free, as onward on their path they went. The elder told how all his days were spent " Throughout his youth, and e'en to manhood's prime, Li broils, the passion of his troubled time ; How, at the last, through many a year of toil. Through the dread discord sown upon the soil. He reaped the profit of his stubborn will, And gathered power ; until he won his fill Of all for which a man of spirit strives ; — Riches and strength to save or take, men's lives. 12 QUID AND LIT A: 'Twas true, all this miglit 3^et be still increased ; But age liad come, and his ambition ceased. He would not care himseK to waste more blood By hunting those who ne'er against him stood. They said the Saracen should be destroyed ; Then let them do it. If they died, he joyed. Yet for himself ^he would not aid, for they Had never dared to meet him in affray. They knew the length of his good arm too weU. No, for his part, he felt no shame to tell, His work had only been with those who dwell Around and near him, thus his son had gained Such place and power as none before attained. He could not teU him how to use it, when New times must change so much both things and men. One maxim only he must bear in mind, Aye to the followers of his house be land, For if the tree would stretch its branches round, The roots must clasp and win the nearest gTound." The other, as such speech continuous flowed, But little interest in his bearing showed. His gentle nurture had not made him feel Either the fear or love of brandished steel ; And he but lazily would dream of deeds Stich as, with other youths, rapt fancy feeds, Until the thought to glorious action leads. A TALE OF THE RIVIERA. 13 Thus little had he cared for anght beside The early objects of a boyish pride : His sports, his horse, his dogs ; and now full-gi'own, Less worthy loves seemed in his nature sown, And less a man than when he was a boy, A trivial foppery became his joy : His velvet stuffs, the fashion of his sleeve. His hat and plume, were what could please or grieve. While thus he listened not, but gazed or sung. His eye had wandered to where now there hung Along the far horizon, a low cloud That mounted steadily on high, while loud The wind piped, hke a rustic at his toil, Furrowed the sea in ridges Hke the soil. And scattered raindrops, as he strode along. Then rose the storm, in awful fury strong. Gleams of a wondrous Hght a moment stood On pallid sea and on wdnd-stricken wood, And dazzling, where they shone the vision's sense, They fled ; and, chased by shadows as intense. Passed with the swiftness of the blast, and leaped From guH to cliff, — then to the crags, that heaped In grandeur 'gainst the flying skies, appeared Like to white ashes that the fire has seared. And then the mists rolled over them, as black Grew heaven's vault wdth darkest thunder wrack ; From under which, increasing in fierce sound, 14 GUIDO AND LIT A: A harsh and hissing noise spread fast around, And a low moaning, like a voice of dread, Welled, as if coming from the deep sea's bed. The rain ran down, and, a^ the Hghtning flashed. In bounding torrents o'er the ground was dashed. From the dry hills the new-born fountains sprung. The narrow tracks with swelling waters rung, And, 'mid the turmoil could be faintly heard The heavy fall of distant land-shp, stirred To headlong ravage, burying as it flowed, Man and his works beneath a hideous load ! Down the broad bed of shingle and of stone That the shrunk river seemed ashamed to own When, in the heat of the life-parching day, A feeble streamlet, scarce it found a way ; Now dashed a brimming tide, whose eddies surged Till o'er the banks, the muddy foam was urged. And louder still the notes of terror grew. Ere past the hills the roaring tempest flew. And on lashed sea, and groaning shore was spent The rage of nature, and her frown unbent ! Meanwhile the old man would have held his way, Unhurried, back to where the castle lay. Now hidden long by headlands of the bay ; But that they told him, "he must seek some rest ; A fisher's hut was near, his shelter best." — A TALE OF THE RIVIERA. And to tlie joy of tlie gay pluniagecl knight Who followed, sorrowing at their draggled plight, They turned aside; and, 'neath the slackening rain. Soon found a cottage in a wooded plain ; And passing through the open door, were met By the poor o^iier, who, with garments wet. Stood, dripping like a merman, standing nigh The pine-wood fire, that sent its flame on high : While the good wife, her distaff laid aside, Still fed its glow with many a branch well-di'ied, Chattering as o'er her task she bent intent. And from the blaze a storm of sparks was sent. A bright-hued sash the fisher's jerkin bound. His scanty locks a crimson bonnet crowned. He turned upon the guests a face that spoke A ready welcome, ere he silence broke. Then, with bared head and smile of joy, he said, " Ah ! knight of Orles, what chance has hither led Thee and the Signer Guido ? — Enter here : Praise be to God, and to the Virgin dear ; May She from tempests every ill avert, Send gladness as to me, instead of hurt ! — Pray, glorious sirs, to honour my abode, And with deep gratitude my heart to load By wishing well to me and this my roof : Now of such kindliness to give me proof, 15 16 GUIDO AND LITA: I pray you take your seats, and break your fast. 'Tis your first visit here, I fear the last, For humble folk get not such favors oft :" And here his dame broke in — "Hist ! Carlo, soft, Their presence now gives joy, and they may take Some fish, and fruit, and wine. Our girl will bake A little flour upon the embers soon : Come hither, Lita — Lita. Here's a boon, A pleasure rare for thee. Thy bread shall be Refreshment to these lords of high degree. O Signors, 'tis indeed a poor repast, But on its winning has our toil been cast. Come, Lita — wherefore lingers she?" Then came Into the ruddy light of her hearth's flame, So that it blazoned her young beauty forth, And seemed to love with all its charms to play. The fisher's daughter, pride of cape and bay ! Whose loveliness, not such as in the north Blushes like sunshine through the morning mist, — Was that of southern eve, quick darkening, kissed By crimsoned lightnings of her burning day. A maid whose arching brow, and glancing eyes, Told of a passing, timorous surprise ; Whose tresses half concealed a neck that raised A head that classic art might well have praised. Framed with the hair, in glossy masses thrown A TALE OF THE RIVIERA. 17 From forehead whiter than Carrara's stone, Her face's lineaments, clear cut, and straight. Might show that sternness Hved her nature's mate, Did not the smile that over them would steal Another mood, as favourite, reveal ; Else had not dimples on the sunburned cheek Helped the eye's merriment so oft to speak. O'er beauteous mouth and rounded chin there strayed The sign of power that ardent will betrayed ; But broken by a gentleness of soul That through her steadfast gaze in softness stole. Her form was strong and Uthe. She came and made A slight obeisance, as though half afraid ; Then stood, — a coarse robe flowing to her feet, Each limb round shadowed in the fitful heat. And, Hke the glow that hghted her, there sped Through Guido's fi-ame a pulse that quickly fled, But left his breathless gaze to feed upon The figure that, to him, like angel's shone. Till the repast prepared, his father quaffed A horn of wine ; and turning, as he laughed. Said to the wife, "A beauteous maid in truth You give to serve us. That young man, forsooth, Has, as you see, no eyes for food, because They worship elsewhere with a mute applause. Nay ! is she gone ? I spoke with httle grace, Else had not scared her from her 'customed place." 2 X8 QUID AND LITA: Tlien said tlie wife, "Oli, sir, we do not lieed If her fair looks to admiration lead Witli such great folks as you, who cannot care For fisher maidens, with your ladies rare ; But oftentimes, when neighbours come about. They find my welcome marred by anxious doubt." And Guido smiled, but could not laugh away The spell of silence that upon him lay. When, turning from old Carlo's poor abode, The knights again together homeward strode. So strange the feeling that within found birth, It seemed to him he scarcely walked the earth. One thought could only claim his wondering mind, Alone once more that humble hearth to find, Alone once more that radiant face to scan, And prove the charm, as when it first began. Ah ! who can tell, when thus the will is swayed, And to emotion's dangerous train is laid. The torch, that love or passion each can fire. What hidden issue waits the heart's desire ? What httle grains the balance may control, E'en though it shape the fortune of the soul. That, by its fervid longings all possessed, Yearns for the secrets of another's breast ; A TALE OF THE RIVIERA. 19 Would live or die, but in tlie sight of one Wlio to its being, seems tlie central sun, Without whose presence every scene is drear — The world a desert, haunted but with fear ! Who from the scroll of Fate may knowledge wring Of the first birth of Life's mj'sterious spring, Wliat is the nature that so soon has grown A potent tide, on which our bark is thrown ? Ah ! who can tell if noblest impulse lies Within the magic of the meeting eyes, Or, if the ruin of a life be where The light falls softest on some golden hair ? The knights of Orles regained the lofty keep, When, sinking slowly on the purpled deep. The sun still hngered on the bannered tower, Though evening on the shorl now showed her power, And bathed it deeply in the twihght hour. 20 QUWO AND LITA: HOUGH the dark watches of the silent night Must awe the soul that marks their solemn flight, When myriad worlds, through boundless etliei rolled Their steadfast orbs, or trembling stars unfold ; And yon bright Mystery that in waning, proves Her sway more potent, than the floods she moves, Streaks with quick fire the rebel billows' foam, "When 'neath the rule of rival storms they roam ; Or looks serenely down, when calms display Her image, multiphed in long array. And o'er the waters, manacled in sleep, Casts her white arm, as mistress of the deep ; — Yet are these hours the httle space our mind Regards as lulling into rest mankind : They seem the pauses in our endless strife. The only hours allowing peace, and life ; Oblivion comes to dull the subtlest brain That schemes for honour, or has plotted pain. Within these hours, that seem alone to beat With no fierce pulses and no fevered heat. A TALE OF THE EIVIEBA. 21 And tliougli this be not ; and the night conceives Things that the wondering morn accepts, beheves : Yet is her time less awful than the glow Of eastern skies, that in theii" brightening show The coming of the day, for weal, or woe. Though still the air, and chill, — behold, behold The hues of saffron deej)ening into gold ; Save where a sapphire band on ocean's bed Along the far horizon lies outspread, The heaving surface takes the tints on high. And wakes its pallor to a kindi-ed dye ; A moment more, and from the dusky hill The vapours fall, the lower glens to fiU ; Then fade from thence in many a changing shape, To clasp the feet of every jutting cape ; TiU the taU cliffs' descent into the sea Is merged in mist, that makes them seem to be Eaised like the prows of galleys, that of yore Stretched their proud beaks above the surges' roar. Another instant, and each doubtful shade Melts and then vanishes, as though afraid Of the great blaze, unbearable, the sun Sends o'er the world, proclaiming Day begim. His reign is come, to last from morn till eve, "Within whose limits many live to weave 22 ^ GUIBO AND LIT A: The fateful actions few can e'er retrieve : His span of liglit, in wliicli tliey can pursue The petty plans that fill their narrow view ; That yet have scope enough, through love or hate, To make their working to their fellows great, And in God's scales to place another weight ! Let the light shine on those, above whose graves The deathless laurel of fond memory waves, "WTio, though their age has passed away so long Live in the glories of their country's song. Let us then know the scenes, where varying fate With partial hand, ajDportioned their estate. But ere we reach the castle, note how well The steep approach a foe's attack could quell. 'Twas not alone the battlemented wall, With frequent tower, from whence the shot might fall ; But every dwelling, in each close-built street. Seemed half designed such venture to defeat. High-storied, oft they over-arched the way That, lost beneath them, scarce could see the day For many a gloomy stretch ; and when at last It seemed the devious labyrinth was passed, 'Twas only for a moment that the sky Might look upon its course of mystery ; (Save where before an ancient church there played, A TALE OF THE RIVIERA. ,23 In a broad space, a fountain's bright cascade ;) For, qnickly buried, it was liid until, Beyond the town, it cKmbed again the hill. Through the thick maze, a busy hive, close-pent. Wound narrow tracks, that seemed where'er they went With women, children, men, and mules, ahve : Some would pass quickly onward, but to dive Beneath the vaulted arches ; wives would sjjin Chattering in doorway's ; while, around, the din Of little urchins rose, high shrilled, and clear, Kedoubled at the sight of muleteer. But hushed as knights and guards came trampling near. Close to the summit of the peopled ridge The road led suddenly to where a bridge Across a deep ravine, was lightly set. Thin-arched and high, and void of parapet, It spanned the chasm to the rough rock throne. From which the castle's mighty hmbs had grown. No barbican o'erlooked the natural moat : The way leaped straight into the fortress' throat. The entrance through a square-built pile was bored. Where, on each flank, a rounded bastion soared. Their massive face of masonry but showed A casement, here and there, toward the road. But, circHng inner courts, wide galleries ran, 24 GUIDO AND LIT A: Where througli the open windows one might scan The halls and stairways of the inner plan. Throughout the spaces near the ponderous gate Old halberdiers and armoured followers wait : They guard the passages and Hne the hall For stately trial or high festival ; When to give sentence, or to pass decree, The knight was seated 'neath the canopy Betokening feudal sway, that only saw Justice in him who made, and dealt the law. What is possession of high place, or state, To him who, mocked by a pursuing fate, E'en in his genius finds a dangerous bar To turn his steps from Fortune's trembling star ; The finer temper that should make him rise To be the leader in some great emprise ; To point the path, though mountains interpose. To days of glory that no night may close ; May warp to tame fastidiousness, and wake Loathing of tools, he might have used to make His phantom fancy change to sober truth. The easy nature, born of affluent youth. To be content with all around, lest change Shall bring upon him things unloved and strange. May wake no passion for the prompt redress Of wrongs he only hears have wrought distress ; ' Till the tall cliffs' descent into the sea Is merged in mist, that makes them seem to be Kaised like the prows of galleys, that ol' yore Stretched their carved beaks above the surges' roar/ [Page 24. I A TALE OF TEE RIVIERA. 25 Although if aid by clamorous grief be sought Her piteous cry may wake to work and thought. No chance had spurred young Guido to forget The selfish aims to which his wishes set. His father's rule, like some uncouth machine, Creaked at its task, but worked in dull routine. He hardly shared its burdens, for the chase Gave him in sport at least a better place, And often would his spear, haft-driven, quell The rage of boar or wolf on mountain fell. Yet lonely now, his part he w^ould not bear In scenes of pleasure, or in days of care. Old friends, old joys, could give his life no zest. Though to such charge his words had ne'er confessed. In restlessness and yearning vain he spent A time, when feigned hilarity was blent With hours of brooding, on his thoughts intent. How could he meet her, so that all unseen His glance could rest upon her face and mien ; That none should watch, or rally with a jest, The sense that gladdened him, and yet oppressed ? He had not even heard her speak, then why Dream that the voice would flow in harmony, Nor give the ideal of his heart the he, Betraying aught to break its sympathy ? 26 GUIDO AND LITA: What follies, treason, idle doubts, were these ! Wliate'er the tone — how could she speak but j)lease ? From the fair lips that curved like Cupid's bow, Love's lightning darts through all she said must flow. What, though the eyes no look responsive gave ? 'Twas all he asked again their hght to crave. So, stealing furtively away, once more He passed to where along the gleaming shore The waves, like vassals of an eastern king. In lengthenec] lines, continuous, came to fling Their load of diamond and of opal down. And as he quickly strode to clutch the crown Of his heart's hope, it was as if for lord The whole creation knew him, and adored. So wild the tumult of his throbbing brain ; It seemed the waters of that mastering main But chanted songs that urged him to aspire Until their motions owned but his deske ; Whate'er his wishes' course, an answering God Would smooth it level as the sands he trod. Thus did his thoughts run riot till, afloat Within three bowshots of the beach, a boat With only one within it, could be seen. A TALE OF THE niVIEEA. 27 Then inland moving, till lie readied a screen Of tumbled rock and wood, he saw below A row of fishers, who, with labour slow, Dragged heavily their nets' sea-laden length. And, drawing nearer, he could see their strength Was guided by the single boatman's call, Who cried to them to slacken or to haul. And further off, along the bay, apjjeared Another group Hke theirs, that slowly neared, As at the net's still great, but narrrowing, curve They pulled with rival force and weary nerve. 'Twas Carlo's voice commanded them ; and soon, In the full brightness of the blazing noon, Guido saw Lita standing on the shore. Upon her head and o'er her brow she wore A kerchief, pure and white, to turn the glare, From under which, escaping, the dark hair In long rich tresses, flowed upon the vest That clothed her form from ankle unto breast. Poised on white foot that, Hght as foam-flake, fell Where sea and land in common came to dwell. She moved, encouraging with bhthest cheer Each laggard loitering at the toilsome gear. Sometimes her little hand would even twine 28 OUIDO AND LITA: A cord, loojD-liancIled, round the great rope line, And her slight aid, through their redoubled poAver, Would shorten wondrously the arduous hour ; Until at last, the scanty harvest reaped, Its silvery piles upon the shore were heaped. He had not thought to meet her thus among Her kin and neighbours, and his sense was stung By a commingling of dehglit and doubt. He could not dwell upon her ways without A shade of jealousy ; for though the voice Rang in his ears, and bade his soul rejoice. He had but pictured her in quiet home, Not as one loving here and there to roam ; Taking her part in harsher task, and made A joy to many, but too oft displayed. And yet what modesty of manner glowed Through the qviick nature that her gesture showed ; What honest impulse 'mid the girlish grace Lived in her word and shone within her face ; E'en from her lips, when merriest laughter broke. What innate dignity her bearing spoke ! She was not born to live her life away In circuit bounded by her native bay ; That beauty was not made to be the joy A TALE OF THE RIVIERA. 29 Of common herdsman or of fislier-boj ; Surely from such companionship to win Her sweet affection, were no mortal sin ? Let him then pass into the woods, and wait Until she came to seal his wavering fate. Alone he paused where, through the olive grove, He saw the dwelling he had learned to love ; The door that opened to the lower space, Wliere first he looked upon her matching face ; The outward stair that gained, still near the sod, The upper chamber that her feet had trod ; The tinted plaster and the narrow roof, Where heavy tiles to wind and rain were proof ; The gnarled and twisted trees that round it rose. As if to guard its shelter and repose ; The dusky foKage where they thickly grew, And chequered shade iipon its brightness threw. And soon along the pathway he could mark Her form approaching 'neath the shadows dark ; And waiting by its margin, he could see She slackened her quick step reluctantly : Then made as. though to pass him, and haste on To where her home with friendly welcome shone. Wlien, doffing his plumed hat with courteous grace And joyous look, he met her face to face. 30 QUID AND LIT A. Yain as lie was, lie felt at first unmanned By tlie calm glance tliat all liis motions scanned , But when slie slowly answered liis good clieer With, morning greeting, he forgot his fear. And questioned, "Whither went she?" "To prepare For those who thro' the day have laboured where Yon path does lead." — "Come they then soon to thee?" "Yea, if they get enough from out the sea." "Thou canst then give them all for which they care?" "Nay, Sir, you know how humble is our fare." "To me it seemed a feast for any prince." " Our pride, indeed, has risen higher, since Your gracious father said that he was pleased." "And wilt thou not believe that I was seized With gratitude to her, who, like the sun Shone, when the storm dominion would have won? " " Oh, Sir, you flatter me," she said, and then, "But I must onward, or my father's men Will find nought ready. Sir, I must begone." — "Nay,* have my words so little favour won, Thou wilt not offer me again some food ? " — "If you desire it. 'Twould indeed be rude, And 'gainst my father's wish to close our door." — "It is but for a moment, and the store Of thy sweet grace, is all I now implore." — She laughed, and then, with grave and silent mien, Led on, he following, o'er the herbage green. A TALE OF TEE BIVIERA. 31 And thus lie entered, "witli a heart that beat, The house wherein again her busy feet Moved,- as it seemed to him, in music sweet. And as he sat, and watched how order grew Beneath her fingers, as they deftly drew Her tasks to end ; her every look and word His passion deepened, and his wonder stii-red. How could such blossom grow on salted soil, Such bloom and beauty from a race of toil, Such grace and colour near the deadening spray ? In childish days he heard the sailors say That wondrous flowers were fostered by the ray That burned on Airic's coast, and glowing leaves Burst from the prickly j)lants in dazzling sheaves, Close to pale breakers of a fearful sea. Such vision rose within his mind as he Noted her actions ; — told her how his thought Had, since he saw her, his lone spuit brought To be a sojourner, as now, beneath Her roof ; marked how a fleeting blush would breathe An instant's brighter colour on her cheek ; But pride or cojTiess would not let her speak Reproof or pleasure. Then he drank to her Of wine she offered, that he might aver Her happiness was now his life's desire. His hope to please her lived, — a beacon fire. 32 GJJIDO AND LIT A: Then finding answer none, lie sought to know How simple ways could such distinction show. He hearkened, half amused, as she would pamt In artless phrases how some favourite saint "Upon the day named after him, had blessed With draught of fish, miraculous (confessed As such by e'en the very Priest himseK), The household nets ; — and thus, though for such pelf. All knew the Father cared not, he had ta'en Some coin and half the fish, lest luck were vain, To buy a picture of the circumstance. Wrought by a youth whose fame he would advance ; — The Virgin-Mother watching from a cloud The happy fishermen and clamorous crowd ; — To hang upon the chapel's wall. And more : At the last feast the candles borne before The holy Father came from this, their wealth ; Besides, what more went to the Church's health." "But 'tis not from your nets," he said, "alone* You get your living, for you surely own These trees that far around the sunlight break?" "No, no," she answered, "'tis but ours to shake Their laden branches with the tapering cane And cause the olives' fall of fruitful rain ; To gather them in baskets till they fill The dusty flooring of the busy mill. A TALE OF THE RIVIERA. 33 But in a little garden, aU mine own, Some beauteous palms, beloved of God, liave grown, And of their drooping fringes I may keep Some Liere, to grace tlie day of those who sleep In martyrs' graves beyond the echoing deep : Some for their place of martj-rdom, I sell To those, they say, who near their ashes dwell." He, asking where this Eden garden lay ? Watched her fair figure outlined 'gainst the day That, through the open window near him, shone ; And let her eager speech, unchecked, flow on. As with her hfted hand, she pointed where A palm-tree shot aloft to woo the glare : Then showed each spot in narrow circuit round. Where traces of her simple life were found. But brealdng through the tale of her content, His stifled longing to her ear now sent Its tones of praise, with fond entreaty blent : And reaching out his arm that he might hold Her hand, or only of her dress a fold She shrank away from him, — if not with fear. Yet with a start, as timid as the deer Who first has seen the long-accustomed food Offered by strangers, and in doubtful mood Retires, distrustful for a space, to gaze If it spy danger in their novel ways. 3 34 GUIDO AND LITA: So in surprise, but feeling no dismay, Slie stood and listened, for on many a day, Her ears liad heard the youths around her say All that they thought would flatter or would please, Till she ne'er wondered at such praise from these. But he had startled her, and would have chased Away the harsh remembrance of his haste B}^ soothing words ; but as she silent stood, They heard the fishers coming through the wood. With noise confused Avithiu its solitude : And whispering he would see her soon, he sped Through tracks again that to the castle led. Thus first did Guido drink of what he sought.. Yet was he like a thirsty wanderer, brought To some rich fountain, rising in delight, A rainbowed pillar to the raptured sight, That falls again in such a gentle spray "Within a basin broadening to the day, That scarce a ripple comes to sweep away The face reflected on its surface, where Unto the eager lips, the hands would bear The copious treasure, of the guest aware. He looked upon her beauty, and admired : He drank therem of joy as he desired; But while he stooped, his wishes to fulfil, Himself he saw, and Self was master still. A TALE OF THE RIVIERA. 35 His pride untutored, and by time unbent, Saw in her silence only lier consent ; Read in lier blushes' consciousness alone The sign of feelings, he might make his own ; Believed, (and half of what he thought was truth,) That Adctory waited on his brilliant youth ; Ajid with no shame there passed before his view That poorest triumph man can e'er pursue : The careless conquest of aflfections true That woman gives, not knowing she may rue ! Already, almost to herself unknown. An interest in her breast for him had grown ; And with surprise she sometimes found her thought Muse on the morning that his presence brought. And sought to check the question that would rise How next to meet the searching of his eyes ; Denying he would come, and if he came, By silence she would prove her will the same. And for a while it thus to him appeared, As often now that olive grove he neared To intercept her on her homeward way. And no persuasion could her footstep stay. Yet had his manners, that with ease combined, A pride by grace and gentleness refined. Shown her the roughness of her fisher-folk. 36 GUmO AND LIT A: Contrasted with the world to which she woke ; And his society 'had in time supplied A lofty standard by which all were tried. What wonder then, that she could not deny That pleasure came with knowledge he was nigh ? No words of hers were uttered to persuade That lingering partings should be yet delayed ; Perhaps because she saw such conduct made The moments lengthen as he, dallying, stayed ! Still he, in blindness, could not comprehend Whence came the firmness that to her could lend Such strength of character, until the flame That still consumed him, though it seemed the same, Changed, with the light by admiration given. To wear the radiance honour takes from heaven ! And with the homage that his bearing spoke. In time her shy reserve was loosed, and broke. Frank had she ever been, in all beside The feelings sacred to a maiden's pride. Open and true, e'en these were not concealed. When safety whispered, they might stand revealed. But the calm will, though shaken on its throne, Still held the empire of her mind alone, B And gave sad answers to the doubts that pressed, A TALE OF THE RIVIERA. 37 And with untimelj grief her life distressed. How could it profit him that she should love One placed by fortune such regard above ? Would it not hui-t him, rather, thus to bend Aiid to her level, from his own, descend ? Would his affection, now so fervent, last ; Contempt not come when novelty had passed ; If from his eyes the scales at length were cast ? Thus tortured by misgivings that but grew Stronger, the nearer to his love she drew. Faithful to that she deemed would serve him most, She sought no more the pathway to* the coast ; But would have hid herself, lest she might fill And mar his life with some imagined ill. 'Twas therefore long before he could succeed Again his cause -with earnest tones to plead : When to his sorrow, coldness seemed to reign Within the breast where tender love had lain. And crushed beneath the unexpected pain, Tears, and upbraiding, and rej)roach, had sprung, From the full heart, with pain and passion wrung. Then roughly tried, there fled, dispelled at length, The false illusion of her borrowed strengih. To see him thus was more than she could bear. "Think not," she cried, "my words betray no care ; 38 GUIBO AND LITA: But wliat wild folly were it, did I dare Thy lordly liome, tliy roiglity name, to sliare? Tlie scorn of kindred, and tlie strangers' smile, "Would mark tlie action tliou" must soon revile. God placed me kere because He knows I may Ligiiteu with joy my parents' waning day. How could I be an honour to thy race, A lowly weed transplanted from its place ? Nay, hear me, Ejiight, for though my words are weak 'Tis only for thy good I dare to speak ; And when a year has run its destined round, A change, perchance, will in thy thoughts be found. Oh, leave me — go ! — nor Tet the memory live Of one unworthy of the love you give." "You trust me not," he answered, "Lita, mine, — For mine I call thee, — since no force divine I know, would ever part us ; and if Hell Else in dark legions, my pure love to quell, '\Vhat banded might shall overthrow the pride This year shall give me, when I call thee bride. Be my request but this : 'Tis not to hide, Nor move from hence, if thus my troth be tried." "'Tis best," she faltered, "that thou come not here." — "No power shall keep me from a place so dear," He said ; and ere a week was passed, his eye Looked on the scene, in wonder, to descry A TALE OF THE BIVIERA. 39 Groups of tlie peasants scattered 'neatli the trees ; And crowds that stood around the door, and these Seemed scared ; for, wafted on the breezy air Rose the shrill plaint, and murmur of despair. Some carried household goods, and women's tears Flowed on, unheeding e'en the childi'en's fears. Others, from where a vessel, anchored, lay. Landed in haste, and hurrying made their way. Some to the woods, and some along the shore, As though in peril safety to implore. Then, stopping one who seemed in sore distress, Guido demanded, "Wherefore do ye press Onward, as though a foe were on your track ? " The man, in silent horror, pointed back To distant headlands, where arose a black And spreading vapour he could well discern : Then cried, " O see'st thou not our houses burn ? The murdering fiends — O may theu^ names be cursed ! Upon our sleeping towns at night have burst, And all are massacred who could not fly ! " "Take courage," said the knight, "our force is nigh." "Yea," said the fugitive, "we know our Hves Here, at the least, are safe from murderous knives ; But we, pursued by sorrow and by fear Have lost the joys that made them once so dear. 40 OUIDO AND LIT A: Would tliat a wider space than this domain, Were guarded by tlie men none dare disdain ! 'Tis long indeed, we know, since Orles lias seen Tlie fires of piUage light her nights serene." Returning with the people, who now sought Friendship, and shelter, in their state distraught, He heard from many of their hard escape. Whom Death had menaced in his direst shape. 'Twas from the mountains that the heathen horde Upon the smiling Eiviera poured. Within a district, where deceitful Peace Had blunted arms, as though their use might cease. But for the darkness all had been undone : Their ship had saved them ere the j^lace was won. And the bright flames, ascending, had begun To guide the hunters, like a midnight sun. Soon round the walls, and hospitably fed. The victims told full oft their tale of dread ; Or, harboured by the townsmen, scarce believed Their safety certain, or their lives reprieved. And ever ministering to those in need, Lita wrought daily many a holy deed. But loud and fierce among the exiles rose The cry for vengeance, on their cruel foes, A TALE OF THE RIVIERA. 41 As ever greater grew the ravage made In distant liomesteads, where the robbers' raid Drew gold or blood, at will, from men dismayed, And e'en to fight in their defence afraid : Surely the knight of Orles will raise his hand And be the saviour of a grateful land ? Yet soon they found their hope had woke in vain : "These peo]ole were not his ; not his their pain ; They must not cumber his industrious folk. They might rem-am a httle. Then the yoke Of Saracen or Pirate by the stroke Of their own hands must perish. ^Tiy should he Arm for the men who knew but how to flee : Who for themselves should learn that woes but yield. When swords, not tongues are loosed, to win the field." And Guido did not urge their suit, his own Was in his thoughts ; and these were fed alone By envious musings, how he might prevail That Lita should not hearken to the wail Of these poor wretches, through the livelong day. He hated them that they should turn away Her mind from him. And thus a month was passed In idhng leisure, till the Moors at last Were said to be no longer in the land And few remained of all the ruined band Who sought in Orles for safety or for aid. 42 UIB AND LIT A : But amongst tliese, a youtli tlie crowd outstayed, "Wlio oft liad clieered tliem as he bravely played To rliyming song tlie strings of his guitar. He told of love, of chivalry in war, Of feats that made world-famous oft of yore The name Provence through lustrous ages bore ; And noting with contempt and fierce disdain The knights' indifference to their want and pain, Now 'neath the casemate of their jDroud abode, He poured the verse that told his sorrow's load ; And boldly thus, though helpless, robbed, and poor, Kung thy reproach, thou gallant troubadour ! I. Noble names, if nobly borne. Live within a nation's heart : If of such thou bearer be, Never let that name for thee Point the scorn ! n. Shrined within its narrow bound Other hopes than thme have part ; For it once in hfe was theirs. Who from weight of earthly cares Peace have found ! A TALE OF THE BIVIERA. 43 m. They wlio wore it, free from blame, Set on Honour's splendid height, Watch, as spuits, if its place Love the night, or dajHght's face, — Shame, or Fame. IV. 'Tis a precious heritage : Next to love of God, a might That should plant thy foot, "where stood Of thy race the great and good, All thine age ! V. Tet remember ! 'tis a crown That can hardly be thine own, Till thou ^^-in it by some deed That ^\-ith glory fresh shall feed Their renown ! VI. Pride of lineage, pomp of power, Heap dishonour on the drone. He shall lose his strength, who never Uses it for fair endeavour : Brief his hour ! 44: OUIDO AND LIT A. F tliose great attributes we call divine, The cliangeless Strength, — the Space, none dare define, How few the types, O mortal globe, are thine ! Thou hast but two pre-eminent, that bear To our dim vision of these things a share. The mountain and the sea ; — and of these twain With one alone, does changelessness remain. The heights seem made for ever, and abide. Though glowing lava streak their trembling side. And bursting craters shake to founts of fire. Where, shaped in rugged dome, or massy spire, They raise their forms into the azure air ; What thing of gi'andeur may with them comj)are ? Man may not measure by his thought of time, The boundless ages since their birth sublime : All else decays, whate'er his tongue can name, But they remain, their majesty the same. The fabling Greek would tell that winged hours A TALE OF THE RIVIERA. 45 Kept guard for ever wliere Olympus towers Above the rock-built chains, and ocean's foam, And deemed his gods had claimed it for their home. The Hebrew multitudes saw clouds enshroud The God of Truth, with darkness, as He bowed Himself o'er Sinai, and the hill became His hall of audience, filled with sound and flame. Sacred they seem, most sacred when then- might Is robed in raiment of untainted white ; When the keen airs that from their summits blow Descend from freshened fields of virgin snow. Then to the wearied wanderer's frame they give A sense exultant of the joy to Kve ; A strength undreamed of, yea, not e'en by those Whose boasted magic would relieve our woes, And, by the essence of hfe-giving power. Hold us, for ever, to Youth's fleeting hour. With them lives Beauty undefiled and pure. As in the life that shall for aye endure ; As radiant seems their promise, as unknown The tracts between us, and each dazzling throne. There must the pilgrim in his passage meet Gaunt Peril waiting to arrest his feet. Above the vapours o'er the valleys furled, His mounting step reveals another world. No lofty cypresses like sentries stand 46 GUIDO AND LIT A: O'er fruitful woods, tlie proof of generous land ; The barren pines, in sombre masses, climb The slopes that echo to the torrent's chime. From soaring peaks that to the stars convey The secrets gathered from their wide survey, — That seem the haunts of silent calm, until The thunder commune with the answering hill, — His gaze, descending to blue rifts, beholds The glacier crawling in its ghstening folds. An icy menace ! as though cruel eyes Shone, keen and watchful, where it crouching lies Beneath the frozen cliffs' advancing feet. From caverns where the prisoned waters meet, The bursting floods in gladness to be free, Sing from their hollows, as they downward flee ; Yet bear from cold captivity the stain Those glittering vaults but seek to hide in vain. On every side, at hand, or far away, The naked barriers of the Alps display Their varied outlines, while, half-veiled in haze, A silver streak the distant sea betrays. A fir-clad mound amid the savage wild, Bears on its brow a village, walled, and isled In lone seclusion round its ancient tower. A TALE OF THE RIVIERA. 47 Here had the elements begun to lour, That on the hapless coast would quickly shower The horrors of a war of faith and hate. It was a post of Saracens, whose fate Made them the masters for long years of lands Remote, and scattered o'er a hundred strands. Within a journey compassed in a day From Orles, a portion of their forces lay. Towns had they by the sea, with ships and wealth ; Some won by force, and some by treacherous stealth. Rude captains on their frontier held their own. Their lawless deeds scarce to each other known ; But those of Sirad had been noted well, As oft performed with all the art of Hell, To spread the rule of Islam far and wide. A grisly bigot he, who had denied HimseH no vices that his creed allowed, At mom and eve his knee to Mecca bowed, With prayer to Allah, that his servant's sword Might purge the land for Mahomet and the Lord. In Spain, he saw his haughty race deride The pompous chivalry of Christian pride. And burned to see the Crescent soar above The darkened Image on the Cross of love. Where'er he moved he kindled battle's fires. And in its flames, he fashioned his desires. &5 48 GUWO AND LITA: 'Twas lie, on plunder and on slaugliter bent, Who led the raid, that into Orles had sent The clamorous fugitives, whose piteous throng Demanded vengeance, fearful as their wrong. "Wild Rumour's whisper scarcely had averred The aged lord had pledged to them his word, To give them clothing in such nakedness, And by reprisal cover theu- distress, Before the infidel had vowed to dare And beard their champion, in his chosen lair. Through every settlement his couriers sped, And quickly to his eyry backward led A motley host of men, to war inured, TMio deemed that death but Paradise assured ; The ocean pirates joined their strength, and planned Enfolding horror for the sleeping land. Before the entrance of his narrow gate, Behold El Sirad for his followers wait. Down from his shoulders falls a robe of green ; In yellow swathed, his limbs below are seen. A tunic, barred across the chest, is bound By a broad belt, in glistening circle wound O'er a long dirk and shorter poniard blade, And slung a sword, sharp-curved, with hilt inlaid. From 'neath his turban of the Prophet's hue. A TALE OF TEE RIVIERA. 49 His black eye briglitens, as witliin its view, Rise distant forms, the foremost of the crew, The hastening hands, that herald as they speed A swarm of villains, urged by bloodshed's greed. Their column's van now fills the valley deep. Now, struggling, breasts the last and nearest steep ; And as the rest in quick succession come, Aw along with their shouts the desert dumb, In broadening front, around, and at his side, Their greeting sounds as wolves' to wolf alKed ; They fill the space before him ; armour shines Between dark pillars of the mourning pines ; And hills, all silent in their shroud of snow, Seem as though sorrowing o'er the scene below. How varied this, in changing hues and shapes The gaudy raiment .that each warrior drapes, The flashing of the scimitars and spears, The swarthy features and barbaric cheers. Bring to this spot, that Summer loves the least, The warmth, the sparkle, of the glowing East. Thronged on the ground before him, at his hand's Uplifted signal, every soldier stands ; The swaying crowds are hushed from front to rear, And forward bend, their chieftain's words to hear. 50 QUIDO AND LIT A: " Bretliren, true comrades, wlio this day tave shown The prompt obedience Allah loves to own, By list'ning to his servant's warning word ; Hark to my tidings, from sure sources heard : The knight of Orles, too long in safety left, Of his known prudence suddenly bereft. Dares, as though arbiter of our disputes. To tui'n our victories, and to spoil their fruits. His power was left him, and he has the will Our cup with dregs of bitterness to fill. And mar the march of conquests that have sped Untamed by numbers, and unknown of dread. 'Tis a just punishment, by Heaven given, For in past years ye should with him have striven, Then had his power ne'er gathered, till in peace It swelled to menace wdth its dull increase. His new presumption ye must now^ chastise, But do not yet his fore-doomed might despise. Though of my summons he is unaware, And we, by rash attack, might downward bear The first resistance, we might thus but heap The well-trained masses o'er our heads, and keep Their host united, and prepared to fall With tenfold weight, should fair occasion call. Sudden our blow should be, — but 'tis our pride That counselling Wisdom walks at Valour's side : A TALE OF THE RIVIERA. 51 Our unity shall now his strength divide. To aid in this, we look to you, ye brave, "Whose steed of battle is the white-maned wave : Ye from these odds shall Allah's standard save. Yours be the part, in opening our campaign, To lure our foe upon the treacherous main. This is my scheme : — together we invade In rapid onslaught — nought must be delayed — The lands around the castle ; but your oars Must flash in hundreds off the neighbouring shores : All prisoners captured, and all goods we seize, "We here may lead, and guard them at our ease ; But, to aj)pearance, -they must be conveyed Across the seas by you : let sail be made ; A captive freed, to whom this tale displayed, That, carried to far colonies as slaves, The winds shall mock their madness as it raves. Then Orles shall man his fleet, and sailing, leave But slender garrison ; whUe you will cleave "With your sharp prows the waters till the eve ; Then turning under shelter of the night, "Wheel back, and Join us for decisive fight, "While they at sea, shall make pursuit a flight." He paused : a deep, excited murmur ran, "With looks of savage glee, from man to man ; And then resuming : " Do you join," he asked, " In these my projects ? Is your zeal o'ertasked ? " 52 GUWO AND LITA: "Nay! nay!" a tliousand throats, as one, replied. "Then swear with me," El Sirad loudly cried : " Swear by the Prophet's head, by Koran's writ, By this our bond, with holy fervour knit ; Swear as though prostrate in your mosques, and let These mountains serve as dome and minaret. To rest not, pause not, till the land be freed From Christian dogs, from their accursed breed." "We swear !" The words hke thunder, rose, and rung, Each cliff attesting, with mysterious tongue That oath, in wrath, to listening heaven flung. As flowers are gay beneath a threatening sky, So seemed it joy could never tire or die Around the home, where, e'en if grief had paid A fleeting visit, it had ne'er delayed ; But must have fled at one light w^ord alone From her whose doubting heart to none was shown. o Like fauy vessel, born of childhood's dream, Lita, to those she loved, would often seem, A bark, descended from the heaven above With shining load of hope divine and love. That shed such gladness, that the night would ope, As though unable with its light to cope : And only when it passed, had power to make A distant darkness close behind its wake. A TALE OF THE RIVIERA. 53 Still, though a sorrow sought her gentle breast, No pining mood her father s hearth distressed. Unselfish ever, as in other days, She made mu'th minister in artless ways To lighten burdens, sprung from toil and age. Oft, when the time of Advent would engage The countryside, in fasting and in prayer, To deck the altars with some flowerets fair Was for the maidens all, a cherished care ; And she would lead them to some pleasant glade Where heath and cistus glowed in tangled shade ; And all day long, with laughter, and with song, They wove frail blossoms into garlands strong. A pleasure 'twas, a joy no man might ask, To watch them busied at their lovely task. Their youthful forms would bend with pliant ease To search among the time-unyielding trees, "Wliere clustering leaves the conquered soil had won. For violets, sheltered from the scorching sun. If flower could prey on flower, 'twould here be said One host a kindred army captive led ; But 'tis not flattery, nor true praise, that tries To give a' name that humbler worth imphes To what is best, and highest in our eyes. What x^lant, though fair and wondrous to our view, 54 GUIDO AND LITA: As if it drank tlie very rainbow's hue, And gave the odours of celestial dew ; Can show the tender glories, such as brood O'er those whom God leads on to womanhood ? What senseless life can vie with charms that spring From minds, whom purity and gladness wing To soar too high, for sorrow's shade to cling ; Or imitate the motions that afford Fresh beauteous pictures which, in memory stored, Live, though the}^ vanish from our vision's field, Replaced by others for a while revealed ? Some of this young and bright invading band Had step as stately, as when first from land A lofty ship ghdes slowly from the port, The faint wind dalljdng with her sails in sport. And others seemed so wrapped in happy haste, 'Twould pain their feet an instant's rest to taste ; But flitting ever on, fi'om place to place They strove, as if for life, to win the race, ^Tio could the fastest the sweet blossoms pull, Whose kerchief heaviest, with its burden full. Some pretty traitors would their harvest waste In mimic warfare, as they swiftly chased, Or fled in turn, before their friend's assault ; Or, when a moment, for a foe at fault, A TALE OF THE RIVIERA. 55 Tliey turned on those who gathering, busied, knelt, With blows of soft and sudden treason, dealt In odorous showers, that spangled all the glade. Despite of peace proclaimed, and treaties made. A score of shapely arms at work were seen, Testing ^ith rapid touch, each tiny screen. If aught lay hidden 'neath its covering green : And faces, flushed with merriment, would turn The nearest rival's last success to learn ; When, as the load was all complete, the sound Of laughing triumph, told the feat ; and found The maiden rise, with panting breast, to bound To where some, seated in a circle, twined The scented chaplets, for their saint enshrined. And while the wreaths to greater volume grew. And the quick hands the thread around them drew, The voices of the weavers rose and fell, As each some rhyme would sing, or story tell. ' The bu'ds themselves would from their Hit refrain To hst to tones of more harmonious strain. And to the happy groups di'aw nearer still, From woodland thicket, and from sunht hill : The violet peeped above the snows First in Provence, w^hen Christ arose ; Each year it comes that we may see A type of His nativity. 56 GUIDO AND LITA: From near the season of His birth Until His death it gems the earth ; And to the lowlj blossom cKngs, The purple, that is worn by Kings ! Thus sang the leader lastly, as the end Of their light labour came, and she would wend Homeward, environed by her whole array. But one still lingered, who loved far away Alone to muse, or, plucking flowers, to stray ; Why shrieking runs she to rejoin the rest. As if a vengeful fate too hotly pressed ? All wait, as breathless, and with starting eyes The fl}Tng girl comes near with fearful cries, "What is it then : what means this strange surprise?" She gasps, " O fly ! escape ! " and terrifies Her wondering comrades, who but stand and stare ; Then, gaining speech, "The Saracens are there !" They start, and turn, but instantly aware Of many men's approach, they turn to find Yet more advancing quickly from behind. Then clasped together, trembhng in despau% Silent, so petrified they could not dare Even to cry, much less than to exert An effort vain their misery to avert ; They waited dumb, as though to terror tame ; A TALE OF THE EIVIERA. 57 Wlien all around, from every side, tliere came. As fi'om the ground, the foes whose awrful name Formed the first dread their lisping childhood knew. And as their phantomed horror rose in view, Some sank to earth, and some, despau-ing, eyed The coming bandits through the forest glide ; As nearer yet they came, and yet more near. Noiseless at first, and then with shout and jeer. And as the girls shrank back in deadly fear, Eough hands took hold and seized them fast, and bound Their yielding limbs ; and o'er their ankles wound Long cords, that tied them, so that two abreast Might walk together. Then with many a jest. They closed around, and bade them march along. The weak were dragged, and led the brave and strong DoMTi to the coast ; save three who, -wath a man Caj)tured at morn, were hurried to the van. And freed, and watched, as on their way they sped. To spread in Orles the story false and dread. Feigned by the captors ; — that the prisoners ta'en Might o'er the seas be sought, though search were vain. Along the shore the fierce confederates ploughed The angry shallows, with their galleys' crowd, They passed, repassed, ^\dth ostentation loud, As though their boats were bringing all away. 58 V •♦ .-> W