Poems by Adam Lindsay Gordon - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Eric: One of these is captive and badly hurt; By the reckless riders of Dagobert He was overtaken and well-nigh slain, Not a league from here on the open plain.
Abbot: But the other escap'd.
Eric: It may be so; We had no word of him, but we know That unless you can keep these walls for a day At least, the Prince is too far away To afford relief.
Abbot: Then a hopeless case Is ours, and with death we are face to face.
Eric: You have arm'd retainers.
Cyril (a Monk): Aye, some half score; And some few of the brethren, less or more, Have in youth the brunt of the battle bided, Yet our armoury is but ill provided.
Hugo: We have terms of truce from the robbers in chief, Though the terms are partial, the truce but brief; To Abbess, to nuns, and novices all, And to every woman within your wall, We can offer escort, and they shall ride From hence in safety whate'er betide.
Abbot: What escort, Hugo, canst thou afford?
Hugo: Some score of riders who call me lord Bide at the farm not a mile from here, Till we rejoin them they will not stir; My page and armourer wait below, And all our movements are watch'd by the foe.
Strict stipulation was made, of course, That, except ourselves, neither man nor horse Should enter your gates--they were keen to shun The chance of increasing your garrison.
Eric: I hold safe conduct here in my hand, Signed by the chiefs of that lawless band; See Rudolph's name, no disgrace to a clerk, And Dagobert's scrawl, and Osric's mark; Jarl signed sorely against his will, With a scratch like the print of a raven's bill; But the foe have muster'd in sight of the gate.
For another hour they will scarcely wait; Bid Abbess and dame prepare with haste.
Hugo: Lord Abbot, I tell thee candidly There is no great love between thou and I, As well thou know'st; but, nevertheless, I would we were more, or thy foes were less.
Abbot: I will summon the Lady Abbess straight.
[The Abbot and Monks go out.]
Eric: 'Tis hard to leave these men to their fate, Nors.e.m.e.n and Hun will never relent; Their day of grace upon earth is spent.
[Hugo goes out, followed by Orion.]
SCENE--The Corridor Outside the Guest Chamber.
HUGO pacing up and down. ORION leaning against the wall.
Hugo: My day of grace with theirs is past.
I might have saved them; 'tis too late-- Too late for both. The die is cast, And I resign me to my fate.
G.o.d's vengeance I await.
Orion: The boundary 'twixt right and wrong Is not so easy to discern; And man is weak, and fate is strong, And destiny man's hopes will spurn, Man's schemes will overturn.
Hugo: Thou liest, thou fiend! Not unawares The sinner swallows Satan's bait, Nor pits conceal'd nor hidden snares Seeks blindly; wherefore dost thou prate Of destiny and fate?
Orion: Who first named fate? But never mind, Let that pa.s.s by--to Adam's fall And Adam's curse look back, and find Iniquity the lot of all, And sin original.
Hugo: But I have sinn'd, repented, sinn'd, Till seven times that sin may be By seventy multiplied; the wind Is constant when compared with me, And stable is the sea!
My hopes are sacrificed, for what?
For days of folly, less or more, For years to see those dead hopes rot, Like dead weeds scatter'd on the sh.o.r.e, Beyond the surfs that roar!
Orion: The wiles of Eve are swift to smite; Aye, swift to smite and not to spare-- Red lips and round limbs sweet and white, Dark eyes and sunny, silken hair, Thy betters may ensnare.
Hugo: Not so; the strife 'twixt h.e.l.l and heaven I felt last night, and well I knew The crisis; but my aid was given To h.e.l.l. Thou'st known the crisis too, For once thou'st spoken true.
Having foretold it, there remains For grace no time, for hope no room; Even now I seem to feel the pains Of h.e.l.l, that wait beyond the gloom Of my dishonour'd tomb.
Thou who hast lived and died to save, Us sinners, Christ of Galilee!
Thy great love pardon'd and forgave The dying thief upon the tree, Thou canst not pardon me!
Dear Lord! hear Thou my latest prayer, For prayer must die since hope is dead; Thy Father's vengeance let me bear, Nor let my guilt be visited Upon a guiltless head!
Ah! G.o.d is just! Full sure I am He never did predestinate Our souls to h.e.l.l. Ourselves we d.a.m.n-- [To Orion, with sudden pa.s.sion]
Serpent! I know thee now, too late; Curse thee! Work out thy hate!
Orion: I hate thee not; thy grievous plight Would move my pity, but I bear A curse to which thy curse seems light!
Thy wrong is better than my right, My day is darker than thy night; Beside the whitest hope I share How white is thy despair!
SCENE--The Chapel of the Convent.
URSULA, AGATHA, Nuns and Novices.
(Hymn of the Nuns):
Jehovah! we bless Thee, All works of Thine hand Extol Thee, confess Thee; By sea and by land, By mountain and river, By forest and glen, They praise Thee for ever!
And ever! Amen!
The heathen are raging Against Thee, O Lord!
The unG.o.dly are waging Rash war against G.o.d!
Arise, and deliver Us, sheep of Thy pen, Who praise Thee for ever!
And ever! Amen!
Thou Shepherd of Zion!
Thy firstlings didst tear From jaws of the lion, From teeth of the bear; Thy strength to deliver Is strong now as then.
We praise Thee for ever!
And ever! Amen!
Thine arm hath delivered Thy servants of old, Hath scatter'd and s.h.i.+ver'd The spears of the bold, Hath emptied the quiver Of bloodthirsty men.
We praise Thee for ever!
And ever! Amen!
Nathless shall Thy right hand Those counsels fulfil Most wise in Thy sight, and We bow to Thy will; Thy children quail never For dungeon or den, They praise Thee for ever!
And ever! Amen!
Though fierce tribulation Endure for a s.p.a.ce, Yet G.o.d! our salvation!
We gain by Thy grace, At end of life's fever, Bliss pa.s.sing man's ken; There to praise Thee for ever!
And ever! Amen!