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

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, sway'd by duty more than wealth,?He listen'd and he look'd by stealth;?And I grew careless in my lays;?Languish'd for that exclusive praise.?Yet, conscious of an equal claim,?Above each base or sordid aim,?From wounded feeling and from pride,?My pain I coldly strove to hide:?And when, encounter'd by surprize,?Rapture rose flashing in his eyes,?My formal speech and careless air?Would call a sudden anger there.
"Reserv'd and sullen we became,?Tenacious both, and both to blame.?Yet often an upbraiding look?Controul'd the sentence as I spoke;?Prompt and direct its flight arose,?But sunk or waver'd at the close.?Often, beneath his softening eye,?I felt my resolution