The bridal night

Front matter

Glass..

Book.

LATELY PUBLISHED BY BLACKIE, FULLARTON, & CO.,

Canto III ... 45 To the Wind, . . 107

The Pilgrim, U*

My First Vow, ] **

A Midnight in Glencoe, H7

The Sailor's Funeral, 136

The Dead Boa, 153

The First Ship, 163

To the Comet, 165

The Baptism, 169

The First Sound from Earth, . . . . . .172

To Earthquake, 17l<

A Ship run down at Sea, .178

The Flower, 190

The Moonbeam, . . .191

Song, 193

To the Sky, 195

CONTENTS.

Page

Leonidas at Thermopylae, 199

To Thunder,

On a Highland Burial Ground,

Stanzas, ....

The Covenanters,

The Flight of Nero,

Lines,

The Guardian Spirit,

To the Moon, .

To a Ship's Pennon,

To a Petrified Tree,

The last of his Tribe, .

Sonnet I. The Cathedral of Glasgow,

II. On hearing the sound of Miss H — 's Lute in

the Night,

III. Summer Morning, .....

IV. The Mountain Cairn, . .

V. On the first view of the Highlands from Stockie

Moor, .

VI. To Ben- Arthur or the Cobbler,

VII. Spring,

VIII. Written at Eterick Bay, ....

IX. On the Black Mount,

X. Summer Evening Shower, ....

248 249 250

251 252 253 254 255 256

TO

MY MOTHER,

IN SINCERE REMEMBRANCE OF HUMBLE AND UNKNOWN WORTH AND VIRTUOUS FORTITUDE, DISPLAYED THROUGH A LIFE OF SEVERE HARDSHIP, THIS VOLUME IS DEDICATED BY HER AFFECTIONATE SON,

THE AUTHOR.

THE BRIDAL NIGHT.

THE BRIDAL NIGHT.

I

Day sets in glory o'er the Ionian sea, Night gathers round him like eternity ; And all is hush'd, as if the rosy mouth Of love breathed o'er his own delicious south. 'Tis one of those sweet eves, so calm, so clear, And living, that you almost think you hear, In the warm air, the very wild-flowers grow, And the young blood through their green channels flow. Joy seems to breathe his songs in every bower, As if Death's foot had never crush'd a flower ; While music floats along the twilight deep, As nature saw bright visions in her sleep,

b 2

And, like an infant through a glorious dream, Murmur d delight from every hill and stream ! The winds lie wearied with their morning chase, Embraced by silence in the halls of space ; And as the gorgeous clouds to darkness pass, You see the stars, in many a fairy mass, Laughing along the desert of the air, Apart, or group'd, like happy lovers there ; While the warm breeze that slowly warbles by, Wanders away, like pleasure, with a sigh.

II

A bark is on the ocean — faint and far Its white sail glitters 'neath the evening star, That, climbing the blue east, like Luna's daughter, Lifts her calm eyelids on the dreaming water. Before that prow the sleeping billows fly — And, hark ! the echo of its chieftain's cry : " Hold to your oars ! though night be gathering dark, Yet she has eyes, and we a gallant bark : The one will guide us like the looks of love ; The other bear away our captive dove, Who long has gazed across the deep, that she Might view this love-ark drifting o'er the sea.

Canto I. THE BRIDAL NIGHT

Then strain the oar ! our virgin will not sleep, When love and liberty are on the deep. We lack not valour, but we lack the power To wrest her from him in the open hour : For, oh ! more glorious to my soul would be, Beneath the sun, our fight and victory, Than grappling with the despot in the dark — But he has hosts, and many an armed bark ■ A thousand turbans bow before his call, A thousand sabres glitter in his hall. But we shall rouse him at the midnight hour, With havoc's warcry ringing through his tower : None shall escape, none but my beauteous bride, And we will bear her to the laughing tide, Where, like the ocean birds, well drift alone, O'er a blue world of waters all our own!"

III

A wild hurra from his sea-beaten crew Told him their stormy hearts were his and true : They gave him what he wish'd — a wild reply Spoke by the sparkle of each savage eye. The white sheet, fluttering in the sportive blast, Is furl'd by warrior arms around the mast ;

The ship more slowly cuts the glassy tide,

Whose snowy ridges kiss her oozy side ;

The sky above them wears a deeper hue,

The sea around assumes a colder blue ;

Light's latest day-beam lingers in the west,

Like life's last warmth within the quivering breast ;

The white birds, sporting o'er the feathery spray,

Begin to wing their passage to the bay ;

Eve droops in beauty, like the first calm night

That fell upon creation, ere the flight

Of death and time, towards our infant sphere,

Broke like a tempest on her dreaming ear.

IV

But who is he whose scarf and eagle crest Float on the sea-breeze high above the rest ? A Hero of the isles — a child of Greece, A spirit form'd not for an age of peace ! 'Twas not for him, when liberty was gone, To kiss the hand that braced his fetters on. No ! oft he let his roving foemen see How dearly home was valued by the free. Born with the tyrant's fetters in his view, He drank revenge with life ; and, as he grew,

Canto I. THE BRIDAL XIGHT.

His soul expanded in her dreams of hate

To them who made his country desolate.

Though born to power, the tyrant's arm had reft

Each link away, till he alone was left

With nothing but the desert for his hall,

Vengeance his birthright, and the sword his all.

Though hunted like the tiger in his lair,

He never felt the sickness of despair ;

Contempt of life, and danger, ever near,

Chased from his lion-spirit every fear.

He sought no home — no shelter but the sea ;

No wealth — but souls as fearless and as free

As the wide waste of waves that welcomed them

To earn — if not a saint's, a hero's fame.

His was a soul unsullied by the chain,

An arm too strong to strike, and strike in vain !

His gloomy spirit in that mould was cast

Which lov'd to hold communion with the past.

Oft in the dear delusion of his brain,

He fought his country's battles o'er again.

The very sky that girdled his fair land

Made his young bosom into love expand ;

A tone of music, piped, however rude,

By the bold shepherds of the solitude,

Could whirl his spirit in its tide along : —

Oft has he sat like genius of the song,

And dreanVd of early Greece, the long, long day,

Till, in her woe, his clouded soul grew gay

Beneath those visions which, on memory's track,

Brought the far glories of his country back,

Shining in mournful beauty through the gloom

Of faded years, like stars above a tomb ;

And, though a mockery, as they pass'd him by,

They raised a deathless spirit in his eye,

Which said, he lack'd the time, but not the soul,

To add a name to freedom's brightest roll.

And when the moon, like spirit in her flight,

Stole through the opening portals of the night,

While the calm sky look'd dreaming round each star,

And the wild breeze came singing from afar ;

Like freedom's genius, he has sat alone

On the grey cliffs that look on Marathon,

Until his spirit, dizzy with the past,

Forgot the chains, around his country cast,

And rising proudly in the solitude,

Felt, though the world was fetter'd, unsubdued ;

Clenching, in stern delight, his bony hand,

As if he whirl'd in fight his father's brand ;

Canto I. THE BRIDAL NIGHT. &

His long hair streaming on the gale— his eye

Fix'd on the vast interminable sky,

While o'er the desert rose his burning prayer,

And his parch'd lips drank in the mountain air !

These were the glorious moments when he felt

He was a son of Greece, and had not knelt

To her invaders — and he smiled to think,

While standing on the precipice's brink,

And gazing on the beautiful blue sea,

That Greece still lived, while one wild heart was free —

One burning heart, that trembled not to spill

Its last red tear for her deliverance still !

V

No shrine was his by wealth and flattery won, He knelt and worshipp'd as his sires had done ; His God was traced along the earth and sky, Whose voice was heard when roll'd the thunder by ; His altar was the lone and mighty Alp, With zone of clouds, and grey and icy scalp, Round which the lightnings on their jagged way, Loved in their solitary strength to play. When storms departed, and the laughing flowers Were waked from darkness by the blue-eyed hours,

b 3

With his stern comrades he would seek the wild, And worship God like nature's untaught child ; His church the glorious sky with all its stars, The frozen mountains, with their thousand spars Of glittering ice, the polish'd shafts that stood Propping the dome of the fair solitude, Whose music was the tempest in its flight, Or the blue ocean, in the deep midnight, Raising his watery harpstrings to the blast, That brush'd the cords in grandeur as it pass'd. He sway'd his roving multitudes at will, As tempests turn the pine-trees on the hill. Like him, his tribe were outcasts from their land, Who felt, and gave no mercy, but the brand ! From all their ties, and young affections riven, They had no love, but vengeance, under heaven. No wealth was theirs, — but what the falchion's spell Won from their lords — and they did wield it well : To them the strife was nothing — 'twas a game Which, lost or gaind, had still its sweets for them ;— If gain'd, the spoil repaid the toils of fight — If lost, revenge could make even slavery light : The triumph or the rout could give no sting, And death would only spread the spirit's wing

Canto L THE BRIDAL NIGHT.

For happier shores, where they would never trace The hated steps of Othman's serpent race.

VI

What means young Zariff now upon the main With sheathless brand, — and all his savage train ? Ah ! need the tale be told ? — that dream of bliss, Which fires the gentlest heart, had kindled his. Love rear'd for him his sweetest passion flower, And he did pluck it in a cloudless hour. She was a beauteous bud, whose magic wile Could bind the soul in fetters with a smile ; — She was a sunbeam in his morn of life — But hope forsook him in his day of strife ; And he had seen his dear delusions fall — His love a captive in the despot's hall !

VII

Yet Isidora fondly thinks on thee, Thou fearless rover of the mighty sea ! Think'st thou she can forget her last — her first, Fond flame of love, which she for thee has nurs'd ? As soon the mother may forget the child, That, cherub-like, upon her bosom smil'd,

Than she from memory's tablet will erase The fairy dreams, the hopes of other days ! Think'st thou she can forget thee ? memory's spell Will conjure back affection's last farewell; She'll feel again each passion and each pain, That whirling fever of the heart and brain, Whose balm lies hid in solitude — that thrill, Whose sway forbids the bosom to be still ; And she will pine — and weep — when none can see The burning tear-drops that are shed for thee. Ay, she will cherish — when all others fade — A passion which despair itself will aid.

VIII

The day's last glory tinged the galley's shrouds, And far away, among the dreaming clouds, The sparkling stars were gathering one by one, Like seraphs gazing on the dying sun : The earth was melting mid the waves of night, And the cold moon was trembling into light ; As Zariff reach'd those towers, where mercy slept, And where his Bird of Beauty pined and wept. Ranged with his swarthy heroes in the bay, The chief impatient chides the twilight grey,

Canto I. THE BRIDAL NIGHT. 13

That lingers long upon the deep afar — Oh, that a storm would veil each rising star ! Oh, for the yell of death — the shout of war ! And for that happy hour — when he shall feel The despot's panting bosom 'neath his steel !

IX

High on a savage crag, whose yawning gorge, Like stony network, caught the flashing surge Of the wild sea, a temple stood sublime In the dark twilight of descending time ; The rank weeds, twining on its arches grey, Wove the blue air to midnight in their play : It stood alone, as if to show the trace Of freedom's footsteps in that desert place : The ivy veil'd each marble battlement, The grey-wolf look'd, like murder, from each rent ; The bats their misty dance in silence kept, Like time's old shadow the dim owlet slept ; The wandering night fox made its groves her lair, The crawling adder hiss'd in darkness there ; Tenants, though alter'd, yet the tenants still, For Time can people deserts at his will ; 'Tis but a change — for man and beauty's face, Another sect — yet still a breathing race,

14" THE BRIDAL NIGHT. Canto

Fair in its night of years the temple shone,

A shadow on creation's dial stone,

That mov'd not with the wandering hours, but stood

The same through man and earth's vicissitude,

Lonely and vast ; — the streamers of the night

Fell on the marble in a shower of light,

And one might see the pale stars shining through

The dusky rents, like spirits in the blue

Of heaven's unruffled deep, while, 'mid the dark,

Lone as the raven wandering from the ark,

Some solitary vulture wildly loud

Hung shrieking o'er the ruins from her cloud.

Dome of the perish'd ! — thou dost sternly say,

That, like our fathers, we must pass away ;

Ten thousand sun-sets have gone down o'er thee,

And nights unknown, with their eternity,

Have gather'd round thy beauty — they're away,

The only mighty change is thou art grey.

The fresh undying stars have climb'd, and shone,

And still will shine above thy brow of stone ;

Thou and the world, though storms have o'er thee roll'd,

Art still the same, although a little old ;

While nations drop around thee one by one,

And men by millions, when their travel 's done,

Like wandering clouds that vanish 'neath the sun.

Canto I. THE BRIDAL NIGHT. 1

X

" Now moor the galley to this altar's side ! Un sheath your blades," — the chieftain softly cried, " We'll use them well ere ended is the fight, And stain them deeply ere to-morrow's light. Oh ! we will pay them back each ancient wrong, Revenge shall make the weakest spirit strong. Ay, many a turban shall be chang'd from white — The emir thinks not of our game to-night ; But we will wake him from his love-lit dreams — Torches can fire — and women have their screams ! His gilded domes, that glitter from afar, May mock ere long the radiance of each star ; The sternest slave shall sink beneath the sword, And guards are not for ever round their lord. Oh ! we will deal his treasures gallantly, When on the bosom of the freshening sea ! Bear up the arm, till every spear be gilt, And every falchion, to the very hilt. His be the greatest prize, when all is o'er, Who shows his sabre deepest dyed in gore. My rosy bride shall close each glorious scar, And lull us into sleep with her guitar !"

THE BRIDAL NIGHT.

• XL

He ceased — each rover of the ocean stood, And shook on high his naked arm of blood, Growl'd forth a low wild murmuring sound of death, Like lion when the foe is on his path. 'Twas but a struggle — and their arms would gain Wealth fit to heal each sorrow and each pain ; Their hearts were dauntless, and their swords were keen, 'Tis not the first time they have crimson'd been. Oh ! for one hour to tame the emir's pride, Then for a life of pleasure on the tide ; Bach dreaming out a long calm day of rest On the soft beauties of his captive's breast !

XII

But lo ! what means that light, at this calm hour, Within the lattice of the emir's tower, That streams in rainbow tints along the brow Of the dark sky, so bright, so wildly now ? All are not sleeping — Zariff, thou must brave The swords of many, ere thine arm can save Thy lovely mourner — she may wait for thee, But ah ! thy eagle smile may never see.

Canto I. THE BRIDAL NIGHT. ^

And when she bends around her weeping" eye, She'll only mark her foemen frowning nigh : Young hope may lead her gaze across the deep, And banish from her heart the wing of sleep ; But vainly now her long white turban flies, Like love's fair banner through the darken'd skies ; In vain she waves it with her arm of snow — Thou canst not see the signal from below, ' Else vain were all the despot's boasted power To keep thee from her in so bless'd an hour. She long has linger d for thee — but in vain Her dim eye wander'd o'er the restless main ; She knows thy valour, and expecting waits, But there are brands to meet thee at the gates — Ay, desperate hearts, and swords to flash as bright Round Alla's banners, as by thine to-night.

XIII

" Curse on his tardy gait, and coward soul !" The chief exclaim'd — " let's onward to the goal ! Perchance he has betray'd us, yet 'tis strange He should forego his wrongs and his revenge. Ha, no ! — he comes — our comrade still is brave ; Thou'rt welcome, brother !" cried the chief, and gave

His dark hand to the stranger — " thou shalt be,

Ere many hours, upon thy native sea ;

To pay thy wrongs our blades will not be slack,

If freedom's arm can e'er repay them back.

But wherefore sad, my Selim ? — Are we known ?

Well ! we have swords ! — we will not die alone.

No ! trust me, man, the Ottoman shall feel

The wild embrace of Greeks'— and freedom's steel !"

Selim replied — " No, Zariff, we will stand,

And grapple danger nobly hand to hand.

Yet all our plans are marr'd ; the emir's pride,

Fired by the beauty of thy youthful bride,

Commands the marriage shrine to kindle bright ;

The guests are come — this is his wedding night !

A thousand torches light the gaudy room,

The wood of India yields its sweet perfume ;

The slaves are smiling, and the nymphs are gay —

All but thy love, whose mind seems far away ;

In vain the music speaks, the banners wave,

She looks like spirit of the lonesome grave ;

She walks amid the dusky groups, though bright,

Yet like the moon amid a storm at night,

Smiling in mournful beauty, till some cloud

Swathes her fair bosom in its rayless shroud."

Canto I. THE BRIDAL NIGHT. 19

XIV

Oh ! had you seen the lover, as he drank Those words like poison in, — the spirit sank A moment in his wild eye — as he stood, As stands a sleeping tempest on the flood, Cloudy, and deep, and dark, but full of wrath, Which mutters woe unto the world beneath. He gazed upon the sky which, high above, Hung o'er him with its thousand eyes of love ; Then look'd he on the emir's towers again, As views the lion the abodes of men, Shaking his dreadful mane, with savage eye, Before he springs to triumph or to die. The chance was cast — he now had cross'd the main, True swords were round him and his native train ; And many a wave between him and his home Heaved to the sky its breast of snowy foam ; His all was centred in this little hour, He falls or wins the emir's boasted tower ! He saw the torches flashing through the night, He heard the revel in the castle's height ; He clench'd his teeth, and, with a desperate hand, Whirl'd with a fiendish laugh his naked brand

" Oh, let him spread the board, and fill the cup — More than his wedding guests to-night shall sup ! Ay, he shall wed her — oh 'tis well," he cried, " I'll be the Bride's-man by the emir's side, And gloomy Death shall be the dervise now, To twine the bridal garland round his brow ! Yes, he, forsooth, must have a carnival, But Death shall lead the dancers through the hall, Havoc shall yell his groans, and curses drear, Instead of harpstrings to the ravish'd ear. We still have hopes that are not wholly reft — And see, my Selim, — see our swords are left ! We'll boldly meet the tyrant and his band — Oh ! for our last fond welcome hand to hand ! Oh ! for the moment when our blades are met. On, on and face them — hope at last may set, But her bright star that led us o'er the flood, Will only vanish in a storm of blood ! On for the hour of havoc !" " Stay, oh, stay !" Selim exclaim'd — " such valour will betray Her bravest heroes, by a deed that's wrought In the first whirlwind of the maddening thought. Say, whither would you lead your scanty power — In what weak point attack the emir's tower ?

Canto I. THE BRIDAL NIGHT. 21

For every sword you bring against his wall, A thousand soon will glitter at his call ; Tyrants, though hated, still find slaves to draw Their heartless brands to shield despotic law. Thy sea-born warriors now may dimly eye The snow-white turbans 'neath the star-lit sky, And glittering blades, which pass along the brow Of yon rude battlements by thousands now. But, list! — I have a plan to suit the night: The moon goes down ere ended is the rite : — The grave bird shrieks — list ! — over the far flood;

Does that not prophesy a tale of blood ?

Ay, — ay, — it shall be done — but to my plot :

'Mid wine and love the emir has forgot

To mount a guard so strong, whose swords may keep

His sprightly rival from a certain steep

Where stands his bridal chamber ; thou shalt see

Anon the spot of love and liberty.

In truth, his bands are more equipp'd to-night

To grace his carnival than join in fight.

Ere long the priest will lead the merry pair

Before the shrine — but thou too shalt be there.

I've gain'd the holy man — he hates the creed

Of the red Infidel, and wills the deed.

%% THE BRIDAL NIGHT. Canto I.

Come, bring thy tribe around the castle wall,

There let them lurk, — until they hear our call ;

Then let them fire the faggots and ascend,

Each shall but find the welcome of a friend.

Thyself must deck thee in our Turkish dress :

Come, come, 'twill make thy manhood nothing less :

And I will lead thee to the altar's side —

Thou know'st the rest — death, vengeance, and thy bride !"

XV

The guide is silent : with a deadly smile, The chief grinn'd out a horrid laugh the while, As with his sword and eye, that echo'd on — He sternly pointed where the castle shone ; Then ranged his band for conquest or for death. Now nought is heard — no murmur — but their breath, Which, like the first low muttering of the storm, Porclaims the havoc it may soon perform. They gasp one prayer — and then with dreadful look The last mute welcome of each other took, Silent and savage, like the vulture flock Descending from their eyries in the rock, Leagued in one mass, upon the battle plain, Where writhe the wounded, and where rot the slain,

Canto I.

'Neath winds that shed contagion with their breath, And suns that blister the cold brow of death.

XVI

Oh ! who can tell the feelings dark and strong, Which nerve those bosoms which have suffer 'd wrong ? That burning throb — the passion of revenge, Which, though it slumbers long, can never change ; Those wild, those withering thoughts, that darkly roll, Like lava tide athwart the raving soul ? Oh ! had you seen these warriors in the shade, Silent and stern, each with his naked blade ! Their faces were like marble, where the pain — The pride of hate starts darkly in each vein ; And though death yell'd not in their stifled cry, He looked in silence from each wolfish eye.

XVII

The moon was now within a cloudy porch Of night's old palace ; — 'neath her darken'd torch Moved in their sullenness that gaunt array — The hungry raven met them on their way, Flapping his wings in the black solitude, As if he snuff'd afar the scent of blood.

Their gloomy stillness suited not the din, The long wild roar of mirth, that swell'd within. Ranged round the turrets, in their lair they lie, Like the hid tiger when the prey is nigh ; And Zariff bids a moment's wild farewell — A little moment — till they heard his yell ; Then each with falchion was to greet a guest Within the palace hall — they knew the rest. They breathed assent, — while he, with hasty foot, Pass'd the long draw-bridge, sullenly and mute. He reach'd the hall — he stood where all were gay, As stands a black cloud in some sunny day, Rearing before the sun its dusky form, The first dark herald of the gathering storm. Now Vengeance lights her torch of fiercest blaze, While Mercy sickens 'neath the demon's gaze ; Even Fancy bends a wild and weeping eye, And inly shudders at the carnage nigh.

END OF CANTO FIRST.

THE BRIDAL NIGHT.

Canto Second. I

Mea n while the glories of the feast arise,

And pleasure sparkles in a thousand eyes ;

The mutes are smiling', and the slaves are free,

For one short night of joyous revelry.

The dark-eyed captives of the haram bower,

With laughing faces, try to suit the hour ;

But though their cheek is dimpled with a smile,

A burning tear-drop dims their eyes the while.

Fond memory clouds each brow a moment glad,

They think of home, and 'mid the mirth are sad ;

They fondly dream of those delightful hours,

When life's young pathway only lay through flowers ;

Like summer sunshine in a desert spot, Memory reveal'd each fair forget me not, Which still the spirit's eye saw dimly wave, The last fond wrecks on virtue's early grave,

II.

Yet though some pine in secret, all seem bright, Or those who sorrow hide their griefs to-night ; They must not come to mar this eve of peace, Or soon the emir's sword will make them cease ; When he has deign'd his gloomy brow to smoothe, All must look rosy as the lip of youth : No sighs to-night — no, nothing but the tone Of sparkling love — he shall be king alone : His thousand eyes shall on the banquet beam The fittest lights to warm time's wintry stream ; The stars of night may gather if they will, The emir's palace will have brighter still.

III.

High gleam the lamps within their chains of gold, And wine has made the weakest spirit bold ; A thousand harps ring out their swelling notes ; Far through the womb of eve the music floats,

Canto II. THE BRIDAL NIGHT. 27 As if the sound held converse in the night

With nature's spirit, 'neath the calm moonlight.

And he of saintly garb, who lowers apart,

As if in weary loneliness of heart —

Of all the train, why is his swarthy brow

And eagle eye alone in blackness now?

Ah ! — you that stand around him, had you known

His dreadful message, fear had turn'd to stone

The boldest heart, and blanch'd the ripest lips,

The wine had stood untasted in the cups.

IV.

The dervise garb befits young Zariff well, And scarcely could his kin their chieftain tell ; All eyes might miss him now, for all are dim Compared to Love's — and they are wet for him. Ha ! see he starts — the portals open wide — The emir enters and his gentle bride. A thousand heads, in lowliness profound, Are bent like drooping willows to the ground. The chieftain gather'd up his dusky form, And stood as stands an eagle in the storm, With moveless pinions floating on the sky, Measuring his victim with devouring eye.

c 2

THE BRIDAL NIGHT. Canto II.

V.

But, no ! it cannot be ! she was more fair When last they breathed affection's holy prayer ; Her eye was brighter, and her cheek less pale — The change may tell thee many a dreadful tale. She, like the dove, thrown from her favourite ark, Sees nothing but creation waste and dark ; She follows thee with fancy's eye in vain, But like the raven finds thee not again.