The Lay of Marie - And Vignettes in Verse | Page 8

bereft,
While one possession shall be left;
That

which I now in triumph hold,
This dear, this cherish'd heart of gold!
"'Come, all who wish to be enroll'd!
Our order is, the heart of gold.

The vain, the artful, and the nice,
Can never pay the weighty price;

For they must selfishness abjure,
Have tongue, and hand, and
conscience pure;
Suffering for friendship, never grieve,
But, with a
god-like strength, believe
In the oft absent power of truth,
As they
have seen it in their youth.
Ye who have grown in such a mould

Are worthy of the heart of gold!'
"Ceasing, and in the act to rise,
A voice exclaim'd, 'Receive the prize!

Earl William, let me pardon crave,
Thus yielding what thy
kindness gave!
But with such strange, intense delight,
This maiden
fills my ear, my sight;
I long so ardently to twine
In her renown one
gift of mine;
That having but a die to cast,
Lest our first meeting
prove our last,
I would ensure myself the lot
Not to be utterly forgot!

And this, my offering, here consign,
Worthy, because it once was
thine!
Then, maiden, from a warrior deign
To take this golden heart
and chain!
Thy order's emblem! and afar
Its light shall lead me, like
a star!
If thou, its mistress, didst requite
With guerdon meet each
chosen knight;
If from that gifted hand there came
A badge of such
excelling fame,
The broider'd scarf might wave in vain,
Unenvied
might a rival gain,
Amid assembled peers, the crown
Of tournay
triumph and renown;
For me its charm would all be gone,
E'en
though a princess set it on!'
"I bow'd my thanks, and quick withdrew,
Glad to escape from public
view;

Laden with presents, and with praise,
Beyond the meed of
former days.
But that on which I gaz'd with pride,
Which I could
scarcely lay aside,
Even to close my eyes for rest;
(I wear it now
upon my breast,
And there till death it shall remain!)
Was this same
golden heart and chain!
The peacock crown, with all its eyes,
Its
emerald, jacinth, sapphire dyes,
When first, irradiate o'er my brow,

Wav'd its rich plumes in gleaming flow,
Did not so deep a thrill

impart,
So soften, so dilate my heart!
No praise had touch'd me, as
it fell,
Like his, because I saw full well,
Honour and sweetness
orb'd did lie
Within the circlet of his eye!
Integrity which could not
swerve,
A judgment of that purer nerve,
Fearing itself, and only
bound
By truth and love to all around:
Which dared not feign, and
scorn'd to vaunt,
Nor interest led, nor power could daunt;
Acting as
if it mov'd alone
In sight of the Almighty's throne.
"His graceful form my Fancy caught,--
It was the same she always
brought,
When legends mentioned knights of old,
The courteous,
eloquent, and bold.
The same dark locks his forehead grac'd,
A
crown by partial Nature plac'd,
With the large hollows, and the swells,

And short, close, tendril twine of shells.
Though grave in aspect,
when he smil'd,
'Twas gay and artless as a child,
With him
expression seem'd a law,--
You only Nature's dictates saw;
But they
in full perfection wrought
Of generous feeling, varied thought,--
All
that can elevate or move,
That we admire, esteem, and love!
"Thus, when it pleas'd the youthful king,
Who wish'd yet more to hear
me sing,
That I should follow o'er the main,
In good Earl William's
sober train,
As slow we linger'd on the seas,
I inly blest each
wayward breeze;
For still the graceful knight was near,
Prompt to
discourse, relate, and hear:
The spirit had that exercise,
The fine
perceptions' play,
That perish with the worldly wise,
The torpid,
and the gay.
"In the strings of their lyres as the poets of old

Fresh blossoms were
used to entwine;
As the shrines of their gods were enamell'd with
gold,
And sparkling with gems from the mine:
"So, grac'd with delights that arise in the mind,
As through flowers,
the language should flow!
While the eye, where we fancy all soul is
enshrin'd,
With divine emanations should glow!

"The voice, or the look, gifted thus, has a charm
Remembrance
springs onward to greet;
And thought, like an angel, flies, living and
warm,
When announcing the moment to meet!
"And it was thus when Eustace spoke,
Thus brightly his ideas glanc'd,

Met mine, and smil'd as they advanc'd,
For all his fervour I
partook,--
Pour'd out my spirit in each theme,
And follow'd every
waking dream!
Now in Fancy's airy play,
Near at hand, and far
away,
All that was sportive, wild, and gay!
Now led by Pity to
deplore
Hearts that can ache and bleed no more,
We roam'd long
tales of sadness o'er!
Now, prompted by achievements higher,
We
caught the hero's, martyr's fire!
Who, listening to an angel choir,

Rapt and devoted, following still
Where duty or religion led,
The
mind prepar'd, subdued the will,
Bent their grand purpose to fulfil:

Conquer'd, endur'd, or meekly bled!
Nor wonder'd we, for we were
given,
Like them, to zeal, to truth, and heaven.
"Receding silently from view,
Freedom, unthought of, then withdrew;

We neither mark'd her as she flew,
Nor ever had her absence
known
From care or question of our own.
At court, emotion or
surprize
Reveal'd the truth to other eyes.
The pride of England's
nobles staid
Too often near the minstrel maid;
And many in
derision smil'd,
To see him pay a peasant's child,
For such they
deem'd me, deep respect,
While birth and grandeur met neglect.

Soon,