The Works of Lord Byron - LightNovelsOnl.com
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7.
A Monarch bade thee from that wild arise, Where Sherwood's outlaws, once, were wont to prowl; And Superst.i.tion's crimes, of various dyes, Sought shelter in the Priest's protecting cowl.
8.
Where, now, the gra.s.s exhales a murky dew, The humid pall of life-extinguish'd clay, In sainted fame, the sacred Fathers grew, Nor raised their pious voices, but to pray.
9.
Where, now, the bats their wavering wings extend, Soon as the gloaming [5] spreads her waning shade;[ii]
The choir did, oft, their mingling vespers blend, Or matin orisons to Mary [6] paid.
10.
Years roll on years; to ages, ages yield; Abbots to Abbots, in a line, succeed: Religion's charter, their protecting s.h.i.+eld, Till royal sacrilege their doom decreed.
11.
One holy HENRY rear'd the Gothic walls, And bade the pious inmates rest in peace; Another HENRY [7] the kind gift recalls, And bids devotion's hallow'd echoes cease.
12.
Vain is each threat, or supplicating prayer; He drives them exiles from their blest abode, To roam a dreary world, in deep despair-- No friend, no home, no refuge, but their G.o.d. [8]
13.
Hark! how the hall, resounding to the strain, Shakes with the martial music's novel din!
The heralds of a warrior's haughty reign, High crested banners wave thy walls within.
14.
Of changing sentinels the distant hum, The mirth of feasts, the clang of burnish'd arms, The braying trumpet, and the hoa.r.s.er drum, Unite in concert with increas'd alarms.
15.
An abbey once, a regal fortress [9] now, Encircled by insulting rebel powers; War's dread machines o'erhang thy threat'ning brow, And dart destruction, in sulphureous showers.
16.
Ah! vain defence! the hostile traitor's siege, Though oft repuls'd, by guile o'ercomes the brave; His thronging foes oppress the faithful Liege, Rebellion's reeking standards o'er him wave.
17.
Not unaveng'd the raging Baron yields; The blood of traitors smears the purple plain; Unconquer'd still, his falchion there he wields, And days of glory, yet, for him remain.
18.
Still, in that hour, the warrior wish'd to strew Self-gather'd laurels on a self-sought grave; But Charles' protecting genius. .h.i.ther flew, The monarch's friend, the monarch's hope, to save.
19.
Trembling, she s.n.a.t.c.h'd him [10] from th' unequal strife, In other fields the torrent to repel; For n.o.bler combats, here, reserv'd his life, To lead the band, where G.o.dlike FALKLAND [11] fell.
20.
From thee, poor pile! to lawless plunder given, While dying groans their painful requiem sound, Far different incense, now, ascends to Heaven, Such victims wallow on the gory ground.
21.
There many a pale and ruthless Robber's corse, Noisome and ghast, defiles thy sacred sod; O'er mingling man, and horse commix'd with horse, Corruption's heap, the savage spoilers trod.
22.
Graves, long with rank and sighing weeds o'erspread, Ransack'd resign, perforce, their mortal mould: From ruffian fangs, escape not e'en the dead, Racked from repose, in search for buried gold.
23.
Hush'd is the harp, unstrung the warlike lyre, The minstrel's palsied hand reclines in death; No more he strikes the quivering chords with fire, Or sings the glories of the martial wreath. [iii]
24.
At length the sated murderers, gorged with prey, Retire: the clamour of the fight is o'er; Silence again resumes her awful sway, And sable Horror guards the ma.s.sy door.
25.
Here, Desolation holds her dreary court: What satellites declare her dismal reign!
Shrieking their dirge, ill-omen'd birds resort, To flit their vigils, in the h.o.a.ry fane.
26.
