Specimens with Memoirs of the Less-known British Poets Part 68

71 The next, bold, but unlucky Hubert led, Brother to Oswald, and no less allied To the ambitions which his soul did wed; Lowly without, but lined with costly pride.

72 Most to himself his valour fatal was, Whose glories oft to others dreadful were; So comets, though supposed destruction's cause, But waste themselves to make their gazers fear.

73 And though his valour seldom did succeed, His speech was such as could in storms persuade; Sweet as the hopes on which starved lovers feed, Breathed in the whispers of a yielding maid.

74 The b.l.o.o.d.y Borgio did conduct the rear, Whom sullen Vasco heedfully attends; To all but to themselves they cruel were, And to themselves chiefly by mischief friends.

75 War, the world's art, nature to them became; In camps begot, born, and in anger bred; The living vexed till death, and then their fame, Because even fame some life is to the dead.

76 Cities, wise statesmen's folds for civil sheep, They sacked, as painful shearers of the wise; For they like careful wolves would lose their sleep, When others' prosperous toils might be their prize.

77 Hugo amongst these troops spied many more, Who had, as brave destroyers, got renown; And many forward wounds in boast they wore, Which, if not well revenged, had ne'er been shown.

78 Such the bold leaders of these lancers were, Which of the Brescian veterans did consist; Whose practised age might charge of armies bear, And claim some rank in Fame's eternal list.

79 Back to his Duke the dexterous Hugo flies, What he observed he cheerfully declares; With n.o.ble pride did what he liked despise; For wounds he threatened whilst he praised their scars.

80 Lord Arnold cried, 'Vain is the bugle-horn, Where trumpets men to manly work invite!

That distant summons seems to say, in scorn, We hunters may be hunted hard ere night.'

81 'Those beasts are hunted hard that hard can fly,'

Replied aloud the n.o.ble Hurgonil; 'But we, not used to flight, know best to die; And those who know to die, know how to kill.

82 'Victors through number never gained applause; If they exceed our count in arms and men, It is not just to think that odds, because One lover equals any other ten.'

FROM 'GONDIBERT'--CANTO IV.

1 The King, who never time nor power misspent In subject's bashfulness, whiling great deeds Like coward councils, who too late consent, Thus to his secret will aloud proceeds:

2 'If to thy fame, brave youth, I could add wings, Or make her trumpet louder by my voice, I would, as an example drawn for kings, Proclaim the cause why thou art now my choice.

3 'For she is yours, as your adoption free; And in that gift my remnant life I give; But 'tis to you, brave youth! who now are she; And she that heaven where secondly I live.

4 'And richer than that crown, which shall be thine When life's long progress I have gone with fame, Take all her love; which scarce forbears to s.h.i.+ne, And own thee, through her virgin curtain, shame.'

5 Thus spake the king; and Rhodalind appeared Through published love, with so much bashfulness, As young kings show, when by surprise o'erheard, Moaning to favourite ears a deep distress.

6 For love is a distress, and would be hid Like monarchs' griefs, by which they bashful grow; And in that shame beholders they forbid; Since those blush most, who most their blushes show.

7 And Gondibert, with dying eyes, did grieve At her vailed love, a wound he cannot heal, As great minds mourn, who cannot then relieve The virtuous, when through shame they want conceal.

8 And now cold Birtha's rosy looks decay; Who in fear's frost had like her beauty died, But that attendant hope persuades her stay A while, to hear her Duke; who thus replied:

9 'Victorious King! abroad your subjects are, Like legates, safe; at home like altars free!

Even by your fame they conquer, as by war; And by your laws safe from each other be.

10 'A king you are o'er subjects so, as wise And n.o.ble husbands seem o'er loyal wives; Who claim not, yet confess their liberties, And brag to strangers of their happy lives.

11 'To foes a winter storm; whilst your friends bow, Like summer trees, beneath your bounty's load; To me, next him whom your great self, with low And cheerful duty, serves, a giving G.o.d.

12 'Since this is you, and Rhodalind, the light By which her s.e.x fled virtue find, is yours, Your diamond, which tests of jealous sight, The stroke, and fire, and Oisel's juice endures;

13 'Since she so precious is, I shall appear All counterfeit, of art's disguises made; And never dare approach her l.u.s.tre near, Who scarce can hold my value in the shade.

14 'Forgive me that I am not what I seem; But falsely have dissembled an excess Of all such virtues as you most esteem; But now grow good but as I ills confess.

15 'Far in ambition's fever am I gone!

Like raging flame aspiring is my love; Like flame destructive too, and, like the sun, Does round the world tow'rds change of objects move.

16 'Nor is this now through virtuous shame confessed; But Rhodalind does force my conjured fear, As men whom evil spirits have possessed, Tell all when saintly votaries appear.

17 'When she will grace the bridal dignity, It will be soon to all young monarchs known; Who then by posting through the world will try Who first can at her feet present his crown.

18 'Then will Verona seem the inn of kings, And Rhodalind shall at her palace gate Smile, when great love these royal suitors brings; Who for that smile would as for empire wait.

19 'Amongst this ruling race she choice may take For warmth of valour, coolness of the mind, Eyes that in empire's drowsy calms can wake, In storms look out, in darkness dangers find;

20 'A prince who more enlarges power than lands, Whose greatness is not what his map contains; But thinks that his where he at full commands, Not where his coin does pa.s.s, but power remains.

21 'Who knows that power can never be too high; When by the good possessed, for 'tis in them The swelling Nile, from which though people fly, They prosper most by rising of the stream.

22 'Thus, princes, you should choose; and you will find, Even he, since men are wolves, must civilise, As light does tame some beasts of savage kind, Himself yet more, by dwelling in your eyes.'

23 Such was the Duke's reply; which did produce Thoughts of a diverse shape through several ears: His jealous rivals mourn at his excuse; But Astragon it cures of all his fears,

24 Birtha his praise of Rhodalind bewails; And now her hope a weak physician seems; For hope, the common comforter, prevails Like common medicines, slowly in extremes.

25 The King (secure in offered empire) takes This forced excuse as troubled bashfulness, And a disguise which sudden pa.s.sion makes, To hide more joy than prudence should express.

26 And Rhodalind, who never loved before, Nor could suspect his love was given away, Thought not the treasure of his breast so poor, But that it might his debts of honour pay.

27 To hasten the rewards of his desert, The King does to Verona him command; And, kindness so imposed, not all his art Can now instruct his duty to withstand.

28 Yet whilst the King does now his time dispose In seeing wonders, in this palace shown, He would a parting kindness pay to those Who of their wounds are yet not perfect grown.

29 And by this fair pretence, whilst on the King Lord Astragon through all the house attends, Young Orgo does the Duke to Birtha bring, Who thus her sorrows to his bosom sends:

30 'Why should my storm your life's calm voyage vex?

Destroying wholly virtue's race in one: So by the first of my unlucky s.e.x, All in a single ruin were undone.

31 'Make heavenly Rhodalind your bride! whilst I, Your once loved maid, excuse you, since I know That virtuous men forsake so willingly Long-cherished life, because to heaven they go.

32 'Let me her servant be: a dignity, Which if your pity in my fall procures, I still shall value the advancement high, Not as the crown is hers, but she is yours.'

33 Ere this high sorrow up to dying grew, The Duke the casket opened, and from thence, Formed like a heart, a cheerful emerald drew; Cheerful, as if the lively stone had sense.