The American Union Speaker Part 25

"Prophet," said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!

By that heaven that bends above us--by that G.o.d we both adore-- Tell this soul with sorrow laden, if within the distant Aiden, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore-- Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting-- "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian sh.o.r.e!

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken!--quit the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from of my door!"

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon that is dreaming, And the lamp-light, o'er him streaming, throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow, that lies floating on the floor-- Shall be lifted--nevermore!

E. A. Poe.

CLXII.

SPIRIT OF PATRIOTISM.

Breathes there a man with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said,-- "This is my own,--my native land!"

Whose heart hath never within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned, From wandering on a foreign strand?

If such there breathe, go mark him well,-- For him,--no minstrel raptures swell!

High though his t.i.tles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as wish can claim; Despite those t.i.tles, power, and pelf, The wretch concentered all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And doubly dying, shall go down To the vile dust from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonored and unsung!

Sir W. Scott.

CLXIII.

LOCHINVAR.

Young Lochinvar is come out of the West!

Through all the wide Border his steed is the best; And save his good broadsword he weapon had none;-- He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone.

So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like the young Lochinvar!

He staid not for brake, and he stopped not for stone; He swam the Eske river where ford there was none;-- But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate, The bride had consented--the gallant came late; For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar!

So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall, Among tribesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all.

Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword-- For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word-- "O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war?-- Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?"

"I long wooed your daughter;--my suit you denied: Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide!

And now I am come, with this lost love of mine, To lead but one measure--drink one cup of wine.

There be maidens in Scotland, more lovely by far, That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar!"

The bride kissed the goblet; the knight took it up-- He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup!

She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh,-- With a smile on her lip, and a tear in her eye.

He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar;-- "Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar.

So stately his form, and so lively her face, That never a hall such a galliard did grace!

While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume, And the bridemaidens whispered, "'T were better, by far, To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar!"

One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear-- When they reached the hall door, where the charger stood near; So light to the croup the fair lady he swung, So light to the saddle before her he sprung!-- "She is won!--we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur; They'll have fleet steeds that follow!" cried young Lochinvar.

There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Netherby clan; Fosters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran; There was racing, and chasing, on Cann.o.bie lea!

But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see!-- So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar!

Sir W. Scott.

CLXIV.

MARMION TAKING LEAVE OF DOUGLAS.

The train from out the castle drew; But Marmion stopped to bid adieu:-- "Though something I might plain," he said, "Of cold respect to stranger guest, Sent hither by your king's behest, While in Tantallon's towers I stayed,-- Part we in friendship from your land, And, n.o.ble earl, receive my hand."

But Douglas round him drew his cloak, Folded his arms, and thus he spoke:-- "My manors, halls, and bowers, shall still Be open, at my sovereign's will, To each one whom he lists, howe'er Unmeet to be the owner's peer.

My castles are my king's alone, From turret to foundation-stone;-- The hand of Douglas is his own; And never shall in friendly grasp The hand of such as Marmion clasp!"

Burned Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire, And shook his very frame for ire, And--"This to me!" he said,-- "An 't were not for thy h.o.a.ry beard, Such hand as Marmion's had not spared To cleave the Douglas' head!

And, first, I tell thee, Haughty peer, He who does England's message here, Although the meanest in her state, May well, proud Angus, be thy mate!

And, Douglas, more I tell thee here, E'en in thy pitch of pride, Here, in thy hold, thy va.s.sals near-- (Nay, never look upon your lord, And lay your hands upon your sword,) I tell thee, thou'rt defied!

And if thou said'st I am not a peer To any lord in Scotland here, Lowland or Highland, far or near, Lord Angus, thou hast lied!"

On the earl's cheek the flush of rage O'ercame the ashen hue of age: Fierce he broke forth: "And darest thou, then, To beard the lion in his den,-- The Douglas in his hall?

And hopest thou hence unscathed to go?

No, by Saint Bride of Bothwell, no!-- Up drawbridge, grooms! what, warder, ho!

Let the portcullis fall."

Lord Marmion turned,--well was his need,-- And dashed the rowels in his steed, Like arrow through the archway sprung; The ponderous gate behind him rung: To pa.s.s, there was such scanty room, The bars, descending, razed his plume.

The steed along the drawbridge flies, Just as it trembled on the rise; Not lighter does the swallow skim Along the smooth lake's level brim: And when Lord Marmion reached his band, He halts, and turns with clenched hand, A shout of loud defiance pours, And shakes his gauntlet at the towers!

Sir W. Scott.

CLXV.

HIGHLAND WAR-SONG.

Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, pibroch of Donuil, Wake thy wild voice anew, summon Clan Conuil.

Come away, come away, hark to the summons!

Come in your war-array, gentles and commons.

Come from deep glen, and from mountain so rocky; The war-pipe and pennon are at Inverlocky.

Come every hill-plaid, and true heart that wears one, Come every steel blade, and strong hand that bears one.

Leave untended the herd, the flock without shelter; Leave the corpse uninterred, the bride at the altar; Leave the deer, leave the steer, leave nets and barges: Come with your fighting gear, broadswords and targes.

Come as the winds come, when forests are rended, Come as the waves come, when navies are stranded: Faster come, faster come, faster and faster, Chief, va.s.sal, page and groom, tenant and master.

Fast they come, fast they come; see how they gather!

Wide waves the eagle plume, blended with heather.

Cast your plaids, draw your blades, forward each man set!

Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, knell for the onset!

Sir W. Scott.

CLXVI.

DAVID'S LAMENT FOR ABSALOM.

The king stood still Till the last echo died; then, throwing off The sackcloth from his brow, and laying back The pall from the still features of his child, He bowed his head upon him, and broke forth In the resistless eloquence of woe:--