Poems by George Meredith - LightNovelsOnl.com
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XII
Whence reverence round grey-haired story grew: And inmost spots of ancient horror shone As temples under beams of trials bygone; For in them sang brave times with G.o.d in view.
XIII
Till now trim homesteads bordered s.p.a.ces green, Like night's first little stars through clearing showers.
Was rumoured how a castle's falcon towers The wilderness commanded with fierce mien.
XIV
Therein a serious Baron stuck his lance; For minstrel songs a beauteous Dame would pout.
Gay knights and sombre, felon or devout, p.r.i.c.ked onward, bound for their unsung romance.
XV
It might be that two errant lords across The block of each came edged, and at sharp cry They charged forthwith, the better man to try.
One rode his way, one couched on quiet moss.
XVI
Perchance a lady sweet, whose lord lay slain, The robbers into gruesome durance drew.
Swift should her hero come, like lightning's blue!
She prayed for him, as crackling drought for rain.
XVII
As we, that ere the worst her hero haps, Of Angels guided, nigh that loathly den: A toady cave beside an ague fen, Where long forlorn the lone dog whines and yaps.
XVIII
By daylight now the forest fear could read Itself, and at new wonders chuckling went.
Straight for the roebuck's neck the bowman spent A dart that laughed at distance and at speed.
XIX
Right loud the bugle's hallali elate Rang forth of merry dingles round the tors; And deftest hand was he from foreign wars, But soon he hailed the home-bred yeoman mate.
XX
Before the blackbird pecked the turf they woke; At dawn the deer's wet nostrils blew their last.
To forest, haunt of runs and prime repast, With paying blows, the yokel strained his yoke.
XXI
The city urchin mooned on forest air, On gra.s.sy sweeps and flying arrows, thick As swallows o'er smooth streams, and sighed him sick For thinking that his dearer home was there.
XXII
Familiar, still unseized, the forest sprang An old-world echo, like no mortal thing.
The hunter's horn might wind a jocund ring, But held in ear it had a chilly clang.
XXIII
Some shadow lurked aloof of ancient time; Some warning haunted any sound prolonged, As though the leagues of woodland held them wronged To hear an axe and see a towns.h.i.+p climb.
XXIV
The forest's erewhile emperor at eve Had voice when lowered heavens drummed for gales.
At midnight a small people danced the dales, So thin that they might dwindle through a sieve
XXV
Ringed mushrooms told of them, and in their throats, Old wives that gathered herbs and knew too much.
The pensioned forester beside his crutch, Struck showers from embers at those bodeful notes.
XXVI
Came then the one, all ear, all eye, all heart; Devourer, and insensibly devoured; In whom the city over forest flowered, The forest wreathed the city's drama-mart.
XXVII
There found he in new form that Dragon old, From tangled solitudes expelled; and taught How blindly each its antidote besought; For either's breath the needs of either told.
XXVIII
Now deep in woods, with song no sermon's drone, He showed what charm the human concourse works: Amid the press of men, what virtue lurks Where bubble sacred wells of wildness lone.
XXIX
Our conquest these: if haply we retain The reverence that ne'er will overrun Due boundaries of realms from Nature won, Nor let the poet's awe in rapture wane.
THE INVECTIVE OF ACHILLES--Iliad, i. 149
"Heigh me! brazen of front, thou glutton for plunder, how can one, Servant here to thy mandates, heed thee among our Achaians, Either the mission hie on or stoutly do fight with the foemen?
I, not hither I fared on account of the spear-armed Trojans, Pledged to the combat; they unto me have in nowise a harm done; Never have they, of a truth, come lifting my horses or oxen; Never in deep-soiled Phthia, the nurser of heroes, my harvests Ravaged, they; for between us is numbered full many a darksome Mountain, ay, therewith too the stretch of the windy sea-waters.
O hugely shameless! thee did we follow to hearten thee, justice Pluck from the Dardans for him, Menelaos, thee too, thou dog-eyed!
Whereof little thy thought is, nought whatever thou reckest.
Worse, it is thou whose threat 'tis to ravish my prize from me, portion Won with much labour, the which my gift from the sons of Achaia.
Never, in sooth, have I known my prize equal thine when Achaians Gave some flouris.h.i.+ng populous Trojan town up to pillage.
Nay, sure, mine were the hands did most in the storm of the combat, Yet when came peradventure share of the booty amongst us, Bigger to thee went the prize, while I some small blessed thing bore Off to the s.h.i.+ps, my share of reward for my toil in the bloodshed!
So now go I to Phthia, for better by much it beseems me Homeward go with my beaked s.h.i.+ps now, and I hold not in prospect, I being outraged, thou mayst gather here plunder and wealth-store."
THE INVECTIVE OF ACHILLES--Iliad, i. 225
