Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume XXIV. , livre ebook

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200 pages

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pubOne.info thank you for your continued support and wish to present you this new edition. Come, sit thee by me, love, and thou shalt hear A tale may win a smile and claim a tear - A plain and simple story told in rhyme, As sang the minstrels of the olden time. No idle Muse I'll needlessly invoke - No patron's aid, to steer me from the rock Of cold neglect round which oblivion lies; But, loved one, I will look into thine eyes, From which young poesy first touched my soul, And bade the burning words in numbers roll; - They were the light in which I learned to sing; And still to thee will kindling fancy cling - Glow at thy smile, as when, in younger years, I've seen thee smiling through thy maiden tears, Like a fair floweret bent with morning dew, While sunbeams kissed its leaves of loveliest hue. Thou wert the chord and spirit of my lyre - Thy love the living voice that breathed - aspire! - That smoothed ambition's steep and toilsome height, And in its darkest paths was round me, light. Then, sit thee by me, love, and list the strain, Which, but for thee, had still neglected lain

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Publié par	Pub One Info
Date de parution	23 octobre 2010
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9782819911067
Langue	English

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I.
EDMUND AND HELEN.
CANTO FIRST.
Come, sit thee by me, love, and thou shalt hear Atale may win a smile and claim a tear – A plain and simple storytold in rhyme, As sang the minstrels of the olden time. No idleMuse I'll needlessly invoke – No patron's aid, to steer me from therock Of cold neglect round which oblivion lies; But, loved one, Iwill look into thine eyes, From which young poesy first touched mysoul, And bade the burning words in numbers roll; – They were thelight in which I learned to sing; And still to thee will kindlingfancy cling – Glow at thy smile, as when, in younger years, I'veseen thee smiling through thy maiden tears, Like a fair floweretbent with morning dew, While sunbeams kissed its leaves ofloveliest hue. Thou wert the chord and spirit of my lyre – Thy lovethe living voice that breathed – "aspire!" – That smoothedambition's steep and toilsome height, And in its darkest paths wasround me, light. Then, sit thee by me, love, and list the strain,Which, but for thee, had still neglected lain.
II.
Didst thou e'er mark, within a beauteous vale, Wheresweetest wild-flowers scent the summer gale, And the blue Tweed, insilver windings, glides, Kissing the bending branches on its sides,A snow-white cottage, one that well might seem A poet's picture ofcontentment's dream? Two chestnuts broad and tall embower the spot,And bend in beauty o'er the peaceful cot; The creeping ivy clothesits roof with green, While round the door the perfumed woodbine'sseen Shading a rustic arch; and smiling near, Like rainbowfragments, blooms a rich parterre; Grey, naked crags – a steep andpine-clad hill – A mountain chain and tributary rill – A distanthamlet and an ancient wood, Begirt the valley where the cottagestood. That cottage was a young Enthusiast's home, Ere blindambition lured his steps to roam; He was a wayward, bold, andardent boy, At once his parents' grief – their hope and joy. Mencalled him Edmund. – Oft his mother wept Beside the couch where yether schoolboy slept, As, starting in his slumbers, he would seem Tospeak of things of which none else might dream.
III.
Adown the vale a stately mansion rose, With arbouredlawns, like visions of repose Serene in summer loveliness, and fairAs if no passion e'er was dweller there Save innocence and love;for they alone Within the smiling vale of peace were known. Butfairer and more lovely far than all, Like Spring's first flowers,was Helen of the Hall – The blue-eyed daughter of the mansion'slord, And living image of a wife adored, But now no more; for, erea lustrum shed Its smiles and sunshine o'er the infant's head,Death, like a passing spirit, touched the brow Of the young mother;and the father now Lived as a dreamer on his daughter's face, Thatseemed a mirror wherein he could trace The long lost past – theeyes of love and light, Which his fond soul had worshipped, ere thenight Of death and sorrow sealed those eyes in gloom – Darkened hisjoys, and whelmed them in the tomb.
IV.
Young Edmund and fair Helen, from the years Ofchildhood's golden joys and passing tears, Were friends andplaymates; and together they Across the lawn, or through the woods,would stray. While he was wont to pull the lilies fair, And weavethem, with the primrose, round her hair; – Plait toys of rushes, orbedeck the thorn With daisies sparkling with the dews of morn;While she, these simple gifts would grateful take – - Love fortheir own and for the giver's sake. Or, they would chase thebutterfly and bee From flower to flower, shouting in childish glee;Or hunt the cuckoo's echo through the glade, Chasing the wanderingsound from shade to shade. Or, if she conned the daily task invain, A word from Edmund made the lesson plain.
V.
Thus years rolled by in innocence and truth, Andplayful childhood melted into youth, As dies the dawn in rainbows,ray by ray In blushing beauty stealing into day. And thus toopassed, unnoticed and unknown, The sports of childhood, fleetingone by one. Like broken dreams, of which we neither know Fromwhence they come, nor mark we when they go. Yet would they straywhere Tweed's fair waters glide, As we have wandered – fondly sideby side; And when dun gloaming's shadows o'er it stole As silencevisible – until the soul Grew tranquil as the scene – then wouldthey trace The deep'ning shadows on the river's face – A voicelessworld, where glimmered, downward far, Inverted mountain, tree, andcloud, and star. 'Twas Edmund's choicest scene, and he would dwellOn it, till he grew eloquent, and tell Its beauties o'er and o'er,until the maid Knew every gorgeous tint and mellowed shade Whichevening from departed sunbeams threw, And as a painter on thewaters drew.
VI.
Or, when brown Autumn touched the leaves with age,The heavens became the young Enthusiast's page Wherein his fancyread; and they would then, Hand locked in hand, forsake the hauntsof men; Communing with the silver queen of night, Which, as aspirit, shone upon their sight, Full orbed in maiden glory; and herbeams Fell on their hearts, like distant shadowed gleams Of futurejoy and undefinèd bliss – Half of another world and half of this.Then, rapt in dreams, oft would he gazing stand, Grasping in hisher fair and trembling hand, And thus exclaim, "Helen, when I amgone, When that bright moon shall shine on you alone, And but one shadow on the river fall – Say, wilt thou then theseheavenly hours recall? Or read, upon the fair moon's smiling browThe words we've uttered – those we utter now? Or think, though seasdivide us, I may be Gazing upon that glorious orb with thee At thesame moment – hearing, in its rays, The hallowed whisperings ofearly days! For, oh, there is a language in its calm And holylight, that hath a power to balm The troubled spirit, and likememory's glass, Make bygone happiness before us pass."
VII.
Or, they would gaze upon the evening star, Blazingin beauteous glory from afar, Dazzling its kindred spheres, andbright o'er all, Like LOVE on the Eternal's coronal; Until theireyes its rays reflected, threw In glances eloquent – though wordswere few; For well I ween, it is enough to feel The power of suchan hour upon us steal, As if a holy spirit filled the air, Andnought but love and silence might be there – Or whispers, which,like Philomel's soft strains, Are only heard to tell that silencereigns. Yet, he at times would break the hallowed spell, And thusin eager rhapsodies would dwell Upon the scene: "O'er us rollsworld on world, Like the Almighty's regal robes unfurled; –O'erwhelming, dread, unbounded, and sublime – Eternity's huge armsthat girdle time And roll around it, marking out the years Of thisdark spot of sin amidst the spheres! For, oh, while gazing uponworlds so fair, 'Tis hard to think that sin has entered there; Thatthose bright orbs which now in glory swim, Should e'er for man'singratitude be dim! Bewildered, lost, I cast mine eyes abroad, Andread on every star the name of GOD! The thought o'erwhelms me! –Yet, while gazing on Yon star of love, I cannot feel alone; Forwheresoe'er my after lot may be, That evening star shall speak ofhome and thee. Fancy will view it o'er yon mountain's brow Thatsleeps in solitude before us now; While memory's lamp shall kindleat its rays, And light the happy scenes of other days – Such scenesas this; and then the very breeze That with it bears the odour ofthe trees, And gathers up the meadow's sweet perfume, From off myclouded brow, shall chase the gloom Of sick'ning absence; for thescented air To me wafts back remembrance, as the prayer Of lispingchildhood is remembered yet, Like living words, which we can ne'erforget."
VIII.
Till now, their life had been one thought of joy, Avision time was destined to destroy – As dies the dewy network onthe thorn, Before the sunbeams, with the mists of morn. Thus fartheir lives in one smooth current ran – They loved, yet knew notwhen that love began, And hardly knew they loved; though it hadgrown A portion of their being, and had thrown Its spirit o'erthem; for its shoots had sprung Up in their hearts, while yet theirhearts were young; Even like the bright leaves of some wanderingseed, Which Autumn's breezes bear across the mead, O'er naked wildand mountain, till the wind, Dropping its gift, a stranger flowerwe find. And with their years the kindling feeling grew, But grewunnoticed, and no change they knew; For it had grown, even as a buddisplays Its opening beauties – one on which we gaze, Yet note noseeming change from hour to hour, But find, at length, the bud alovely flower.
IX.
Thus, thrice six golden summers o'er them fled, Andon their hearts their rip'ning influence shed; Till one fair eve,when from the gorgeous west, Cloud upon cloud in varied splendourpressed Around the setting sun, which blinding shone On the horizonlike its Maker's throne, Till veiled in glory, and its parting rayFell as a blessing on the closing day; Or, like the living smile ofNature's God Upon his creatures, shedding peace abroad. The earlylark had ceased its evening song, And silence reigned amidst thefeathered throng, Save where the chaffinch, with unvarying strain,Its short, sweet line of music trilled again; Or where thestock-dove, from the neighbouring grove, Welcomed the twilight withthe voice of love: Then Edmund wandered by the trysting-tree,Where, at that hour, the maid was wont to be; But now she came not.Deepening shade on shade, The night crept round him; still helonely strayed, Gazed on the tree till grey its foliage grew, Andstars marked midnight, ere he slow withdrew. Another evening came –a third passed on – And wondering, fearing, still he stood alone,Trembling and gazing on her father's hall, Where lights wereglittering as a festival; And, as with cautious step he venturednear, Sounds of glad music burst upon his ear, And figures glidedin the circling dance, While wild his love and poverty at onceFlashed through his bursting heart, and smote him now As if athunderbolt had scorched his brow, And scathed his very spir