Poems by Robert Southey Part 13

The cattle from its ominous banks In wild alarm would run, Tho' parched with thirst and faint beneath The summer's scorching sun.

For sometimes when no pa.s.sing breeze The long lank sedges waved, All white with foam and heaving high Its deafening billows raved;

And when the tempest from its base The rooted pine would shake, The powerless storm unruffling swept Across the calm dead lake.

And ever then when Death drew near The house of Arlinkow, Its dark unfathom'd depths did send Strange music from below.

The Lord of Arlinkow was old, One only child had he, Donica was the Maiden's name As fair as fair might be.

A bloom as bright as opening morn Flush'd o'er her clear white cheek, The music of her voice was mild, Her full dark eyes were meek.

Far was her beauty known, for none So fair could Finland boast, Her parents loved the Maiden much, Young EBERHARD loved her most.

Together did they hope to tread The pleasant path of life, For now the day drew near to make Donica Eberhard's wife.

The eve was fair and mild the air, Along the lake they stray; The eastern hill reflected bright The fading tints of day.

And brightly o'er the water stream'd The liquid radiance wide; Donica's little dog ran on And gambol'd at her side.

Youth, Health, and Love bloom'd on her cheek, Her full dark eyes express In many a glance to Eberhard Her soul's meek tenderness.

Nor sound was heard, nor pa.s.sing gale Sigh'd thro' the long lank sedge, The air was hushed, no little wave Dimpled the water's edge.

Sudden the unfathom'd lake sent forth Strange music from beneath, And slowly o'er the waters sail'd The solemn sounds of Death.

As the deep sounds of Death arose, Donica's cheek grew pale, And in the arms of Eberhard The senseless Maiden fell.

Loudly the youth in terror shriek'd, And loud he call'd for aid, And with a wild and eager look Gaz'd on the death-pale Maid.

But soon again did better thoughts In Eberhard arise, And he with trembling hope beheld The Maiden raise her eyes.

And on his arm reclin'd she moved With feeble pace and slow, And soon with strength recover'd reach'd

Yet never to Donica's cheek Return'd the lively hue, Her cheeks were deathy, white, and wan, Her lips a livid blue.

Her eyes so bright and black of yore Were now more black and bright, And beam'd strange l.u.s.tre in her face So deadly wan and white.

The dog that gambol'd by her side, And lov'd with her to stray, Now at his alter'd mistress howl'd And fled in fear away.

Yet did the faithful Eberhard Not love the Maid the less; He gaz'd with sorrow, but he gaz'd With deeper tenderness.

And when he found her health unharm'd He would not brook delay, But press'd the not unwilling Maid To fix the bridal day.

And when at length it came, with joy They hail'd the bridal day, And onward to the house of G.o.d They went their willing way.

And as they at the altar stood And heard the sacred rite, The hallowed tapers dimly stream'd A pale sulphureous light.

And as the Youth with holy warmth Her hand in his did hold, Sudden he felt Donica's hand Grow deadly damp and cold.

And loudly did he shriek, for lo!

A Spirit met his view, And Eberhard in the angel form His own Donica knew.

That instant from her earthly frame Howling the Daemon fled, And at the side of Eberhard The livid form fell dead.

Rudiger.

Divers Princes and n.o.blemen being a.s.sembled in a beautiful and fair Palace, which was situate upon the river Rhine, they beheld a boat or small barge make toward the sh.o.r.e, drawn by a Swan in a silver chain, the one end fastened about her neck, the other to the vessel; and in it an unknown soldier, a man of a comely personage and graceful presence, who stept upon the sh.o.r.e; which done, the boat guided by the Swan left him, and floated down the river. This man fell afterward in league with a fair gentlewoman, married her, and by her had many children. After some years, the same Swan came with the same barge into the same place; the soldier entering into it, was carried thence the way he came, left wife, children and family, and was never seen amongst them after.

Now who can judge this to be other than one of those spirits that are named Incubi? says Thomas Heywood. I have adopted his story, but not his solution, making the unknown soldier not an evil spirit, but one who had purchased happiness of a malevolent being, by the promised sacrifice of his first-born child.

RUDIGER.

Bright on the mountain's heathy slope The day's last splendors shine And rich with many a radiant hue Gleam gayly on the Rhine.

And many a one from Waldhurst's walls Along the river stroll'd, As ruffling o'er the pleasant stream The evening gales came cold.

So as they stray'd a swan they saw Sail stately up and strong, And by a silver chain she drew A little boat along,

Whose streamer to the gentle breeze Long floating fluttered light, Beneath whose crimson canopy There lay reclin'd a knight.

With arching crest and swelling breast On sail'd the stately swan And lightly up the parting tide The little boat came on.

And onward to the sh.o.r.e they drew And leapt to land the knight, And down the stream the swan-drawn boat Fell soon beyond the sight.

Was never a Maid in Waldhurst's walls Might match with Margaret, Her cheek was fair, her eyes were dark, Her silken locks like jet.

And many a rich and n.o.ble youth Had strove to win the fair, But never a rich or n.o.ble youth Could rival Rudiger.

At every tilt and turney he Still bore away the prize, For knightly feats superior still And knightly courtesies.

His gallant feats, his looks, his love, Soon won the willing fair, And soon did Margaret become The wife of Rudiger.

Like morning dreams of happiness Fast roll'd the months away, For he was kind and she was kind And who so blest as they?

Yet Rudiger would sometimes sit Absorb'd in silent thought And his dark downward eye would seem With anxious meaning fraught;

But soon he rais'd his looks again And smil'd his cares eway, And mid the hall of gaiety Was none like him so gay.

And onward roll'd the waining months, The hour appointed came, And Margaret her Rudiger Hail'd with a father's name.

But silently did Rudiger The little infant see, And darkly on the babe he gaz'd And very sad was he.

And when to bless the little babe The holy Father came, To cleanse the stains of sin away In Christ's redeeming name,