The Poetical Works of Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, Bart. M.P Part 63

"Thus, Cymrian, we were Christians. First, the slave 19 Taught that bright soul whose shadow fell on mine; Thus we were Christians;--but, as through the cave Flow hidden river-springs, the Faith Divine We dared not give to-day--in stealth we sung Hymns to the Cymrian's G.o.d, in Cymri's tongue.

"And for our earlier names of heathen sound 20 We did such names as saints have borne receive; One name in truth, though with a varying sound; Genevra I--and she sweet Genevieve,-- Words that escaped from other ears, unknown, But spoke as if from angels to our own.

"Soon with thy creed we learn'd thy race to love, 21 Listening high tales of Arthur's peerless fame, But most such themes did my sweet playmate move; To her the creed endear'd the champion's name, With angel thoughts surrounded Christ's young chief, And gave to Glory haloes from Belief.

"Not long our teacher did survive, to guide 22 Our feet, delighted in the new-found ways; Smiling on us--and on the cross--she died, And vanish'd in her grave our infant days; We grew to woman when we learn'd to grieve, And Childhood left the eyes of Genevieve.

"Oft, ev'n from me, musing she stole away, 23 Where thick the woodland girt the ruin'd hall Of Cymrian kings, forgotten;--through the day Still as the lonely nightingale midst all The joyous choir that drown her murmur:--So Mused Crida's daughter on the Saxon's foe.

"Alas! alas! (sad moons have waned since then!) 24 One fatal morn her forest haunt she sought Nor thence return'd: whether by lawless men Captured, or flying of her own free thought, From heathen shrines abhorr'd;--all search was vain, Ne'er to our eyes that smile brought light again."

Here paused the maid, and tears gush'd forth anew, 25 Ere faltering words rewove the tale once more; "Roused from his woe, the wrathful Crida flew To Thor's dark priests, and Odin's wizard lore.

Task'd was each rune that sways the demon hosts, And the strong seid[3] compell'd revealing ghosts.

"And answer'd priest and rune, and the pale Dead, 26 'That in the fate of her, the Thor-descended, The G.o.ds of Cymri wove a mystic thread, With Arthur's life and Cymri's glory blended, And Dragon-Kings, ordain'd in clouded years, To seize the birthright of the Saxon spears.

"'By Arthur's death, and Carduel's towers o'erthrown, 27 Could Thor and Crida yet the web unweave, Protect the Saxon's threaten'd G.o.ds;--alone Regain the lost one, and exulting leave To Hengist's race the ocean-girt abodes, Till the Last Twilight[4] darken round the G.o.ds.'

"This heard and this believed, the direful King 28 Convenes his Eorl-born and prepares his powers, Relates the omens, and the tasks they bring, And points the Valkyrs to the Cymrian towers.

Dreadest in war--and wisest in the hall, Stands my great Sire--the Saxon's Herman-Saul.[5]

"He to secure allies beyond the sea 29 Departs--but first (for well he loved his child) He drew me to his breast, and tenderly Chiding my tears, he spoke, and speaking smil'd, 'Whate'er betides thy father or thy land, Far from our dangers Astrild[6] woos thy hand.

"'Beorn, the bold son of Sweyn, the Gothland king 30 Whose ocean war-steeds on the Baltic deeps Range their blue pasture--for thy love shall bring As nuptial-gifts, to Cymri's mountain keeps Arm'd men and thunder. Happy is the maid, Whose charms lure armies to her Country's aid

What, while I heard, the terror and the woe, 31 Of one who, vow'd to the meek Christian G.o.d, Found the Earth's partner in the Heaven's worst foe!

For ne'er o'er blazing altars Slaughter trod Redder with blood of saints remorsely slain, Than Beorn, the Incarnate Fenris[7] of the main.

"Yet than such nuptials more I fear'd the frown 32 Of my dread father;--motionless I stood, Rigid in horror, mutely bending down The eyes that dared not weep.--So Solitude Found me, a thing made soul-less by despair, Till tears broke way, and with the tears flow'd prayer."

Again Genevra paused: and, beautiful 33 As Art hath imaged Faith, look'd up to heaven, With eyes that glistening smiled. Along the lull Of air, waves sigh'd--the winds of stealing Even Murmur'd, birds sung, the leaflet rustling stirr'd; His own loud heart was all the list'ner heard.

"Scarce did my Sire return (his mission done), 34 To loose the Valkyrs on the Cymrian foe, Then came the galley which the sea-king's son Sent for the partner of his realms of snow; Shuddering, recoiling, forth I stole at night, To the wide forest with wild thoughts of flight.

"I reach'd the ruin'd halls wherein so oft 35 Lost Genevieve had mused lone hours away, When halting wistful there, a strange and soft Slumber fell o'er me, or, more sooth to say, A slumber not, but rather on my soul A life-dream clear as hermit-visions stole.

"I saw an aged and majestic form, 36 Robed in the spotless weeds thy Druids wear, I heard a voice deep as when coming storm Sends its first murmur through the heaving air: 'Return,' it said, 'return, and dare the sea, The Eye that sleeps not looks from heaven on thee.'

"The form was gone, the Voice was hush'd, and grief 37 Fled from my heart; I trusted and obey'd: Weak still, my weakness leant on my belief; I saw the sails unfurl, the headlands fade; I saw my father, last upon the strand, Veiling proud sorrow with his iron hand.

"Swift through the ocean clove the flashing prows 38 And half the dreaded course was glided o'er, When, as the wolves, which night and winter rouse In cavernous lairs, from seas without a sh.o.r.e Clouds swept the skies; and the swift hurricane Rush'd from the North along the maddening main.

"Startled from sleep upon the verge of doom, 39 With wild cry, shrilling through the wilder blast, Uprose the seamen, ghostlike through the gloom, Hurrying and helpless; while the sail-less mast Now lightning-wreathed, now indistinct and pale Bow'd, or, rebounding, groan'd against the gale,

"And crash'd at last;--its sullen thunder drown'd 40 In the great storm that snapp'd it. Over all Swept the long surges, and a gurgling sound Told where some wretch, that strove in vain to call For aid, where all were aidless, through the spray Emerging, gasp'd, and then was whirl'd away.

"But I, who ever wore upon my heart 41 The symbol cross of Him who walk'd the seas, Bow'd o'er that sign my head; and pray'd apart: When through the darkness, on his crawling knees, Crept to my side the chief, and crouch'd him there, Mild as an infant, listening to my prayer.

"And, clinging to my robes, 'Thee have I seen,' 42 Faltering he said, 'when round thee coil'd the blue Lightning, and rush'd the billow-swoop, serene And scathless smiling; surely then I knew That, strong in charms or runes that guard and save, Thou mock'st the whirlwind and the roaring grave!

"'Shield us, young Vala, from the wrath of Ran, 43 And calm the raging Helheim of the deep.'

As from a voice within, I answer'd, 'Man, Nor rune nor charm locks into mortal sleep The Present G.o.d; by Faith all ills are braved; Trust in that G.o.d; adore Him, and be saved."

"Then, pliant to my will, the ghastly crew 44 Crept round the cross, amid the howling dark-- Dark, save when swift and sharp, and griding[8] through The cloud-ma.s.s, clove the lightning, and the bark Flash'd like a floating h.e.l.l; low by that sign All knelt, and voices hollow-chimed to mine.

"Thus as we pray'd, lo, open'd all the Heaven, 45 With one long steadfast splendour----calmly o'er The G.o.d-Cross resting: then the clouds were riven And the rains fell; the whirlwind hush'd its roar, And the smooth'd billows on the ocean's breast, As on a mother's, sighing, sunk to rest.

"So came the dawn: o'er the new Christian fold, 46 Glad as the Heavenly Shepherd, smiled the sun; Then to those grateful hearts my tale I told, The heathen bonds the Christian maid should shun, And pray'd in turn their aid my soul to save From doom more dismal than a sinless grave.

"They, with one shout, proclaim their law my will, 47 And veer the prow from northern snows afar, Soon gentler winds the murmuring canvas fill, Fair floats the bark where guides the western star.

From coast to coast we pa.s.s'd, and peaceful sail'd Into lone creeks, by yon blue mountains veil'd.

"Here all wide-scatter'd up the inward land 48 For stores and water, range the blithesome crew; Lured by the smiling sh.o.r.es, one gentler band I join'd awhile, then left them, to pursue Mine own glad fancies, where the brooklet clear Shot singing onwards to the sunlit mere.

"And so we chanced to meet!" She ceased, and bent 49 Down the fresh rose-hues of her eloquent cheek; Ere Lancelot spoke, the startled echo sent Loud shouts reverberate, lengthening, plain to peak; The sounds proclaim the savage followers near, And straight the rose-hues pale,--but not from fear.

Slowly Genevra rose, and her sweet eyes 50 Raised to the Knight's, frankly and mournfully; "Farewell," she said, "the winged moment flies, Who shall say whither?--if this meeting be Our last as first, O Christian warrior, take The Saxon's greeting for the Christian's sake.

"And if, returning to thy perill'd land, 51 In the hot fray thy sword confront my Sire, Strike not--remember me!" On her fair hand The Cymrian seals his lips; wild thoughts inspire Words which the lips may speak not:--but what truth Lies hid when youth reflects its soul in youth!

Reluctant turns Genevra, lingering turns, 52 And up the hill, oft pausing, languid wends.

As infant flame through humid fuel burns, In Lancelot's heart with honour, love contends; Longs to pursue, regain, and cry, "Where'er Thou wanderest, lead me; Paradise is there!"

But the lost Arthur!--at that thought, the strength 53 Of duty nerved the loyal sentinel: So by the lake watch'd Lancelot;--at length Upon the ring his looks, in drooping, fell, And see, the hand, no more in dull repose, Points to the path in which Genevra goes!

Amazed, and wrathful at his own delight, 54 He doubts, he hopes, he moves, and still the ring Repeats the sweet command, and bids the Knight Pursue the Maid as if to find the King.

Yielding at last, though half remorseful still, The Cymrian follows up the twilight hill.

Meanwhile along the beach of the wide sea, 55 The dove-led pilgrim wander'd,--needful food, The Maenad's fruits from many a purple tree Flush'd for the vintage, gave; with musing mood, Lonely he strays till aethra[9] sees again Her starry children smiling on the main.

Around him then, curved grew the hollow creek; 56 Before, a ship lay still with lagging sail; A gilded serpent glitter'd from the beak, Along the keel encoil'd with lengthening trail; Black from a brazen staff, with outstretch'd wings Soar'd the dread Raven of the Runic kings.

Here paused the Wanderer, for here flew the Dove 57 To the tall mast, and, murmuring, hover'd o'er; But on the deck no watch, no pilot move, Life-void the vessel as the lonely sh.o.r.e.

Far on the sand-beach drawn, a boat he spied, And with strong hand he launch'd it on the tide.

Gaining the bark, still not a human eye 58 Peers through the noiseless solitary shrouds; So, for the crew's return, all patiently He sate him down, and watch'd the phantom clouds Flit to and fro, where o'er the slopes afar Reign storm-girt Arcas,[10] and the Mother Star.

Thus sleep stole o'er him, mercy-hallow'd sleep; 59 His own loved aegle, lovelier than of old, Oh, lovelier far--shone from the azure deep-- And like the angel dying saints behold, Bent o'er his brow, and with ambrosial kiss Breathed on his soul her own pure spirit-bliss.

"Never more grieve for me," the Vision said, 60 "Behold how beautiful thy bride is now!

Who to yon Heaven from heathen Hades led Me, thine Immortal? Mourner, it was thou!

Why shouldst thou mourn? In the empyreal clime We know no severance, for we own no time.

"Both in the Past and Future circ.u.mfused, 61 We live in each;--all life's more happy hours Bloom back for us;--all prophet Fancy mused Fairest in days to come, alike are ours: With me not yet--I ever am with thee, Thy presence flows through my eternity.

"Think thou hast bless'd the earth, and oped the heaven 62 To her baptized, reborn, through thy dear love,-- In the new buds that bloom for thee, be given The fragrance of the primal flower above!

In Heaven we are not jealous!--But in aught That heals remembrance and revives the thought,

"That makes the life more beautiful, we bind 63 Those who survive us in a closer chain; In all that glads we feel ourselves enshrined; In all that loves, our love but lives again."