Gustavus Vasa / and other poems

by William Sidney Walker

BOOK II.

Day's golden eye had closed, his ruddy light
Expiring on the bosom of the night;
And solitary twilight's deepening shade
In dusky robe the firmament array'd.
The moon, resplendent, fill'd her glittering throne,
And tipp'd with yellow gems all ether shone.
The breeze was silent on the glassy deep,
And half the world was sinking into sleep:
Save where the shepherd led his fleecy train
To crop the verdure of the moon-light plain;
Save where the warder on the turret's height
Trimm'd his weak lamp, and watch'd the bell of night,
And the lone captive, in the dungeon's gloom,
With beating pulse look'd forward to his doom.

Still Harfagar refused the gift of rest;
His country's cares lay brooding in his breast:
And many a gloomy pang his heart assail'd,
But fortitude at each assault prevail'd.
So stands in British woods a broad-bough'd oak,
That braved three centuries every stormy stroke;
While howling winds the scatter'd forest rend,
He rears his aged trunk, and scorns to bend;
So stood, serenely stood the godlike man,
And thus, deep musing, inwardly began.

"Now silent night, the parent of repose,
O'er half the earth her shadowy pinion throws.
Hail, sleep, restorer of the tortured mind,
Balm of the soul, and friend to human kind!
The toils and tumults of our earthly scene
Subside, and melt into thy sway serene.
Life's sweetest cup, with purest blessings fraught,
Were, without thee, a vapid joyless thought!
My fellow captives all thy pleasures taste;

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"Thrice happy you! for fancy's shadowy power,
Unfailing friend of sorrow's darkest hour,
O'er your dim state a transient gleam can throw,
Like twilight glimmering on a waste of snow!

"But me, condemn'd alone to wake and weep,
My country's doubtful ills forbid to sleep:
Each night the agonizing theme renews,
And bathes my cheek in sorrow's bitterest dews.
Where art thou, Stenon? whose resistless hand
Stretch'd like a shield o'er this deserted land!
Say, does that hand still turn a nation's doom,
Or sleeps its valour in the silent tomb?
Heroes and chieftains! whither are ye fled,
Whose powerful arm collected Sweden led?
I saw you glorious, from the field of fight,
When Denmark shrunk before your stormy might:
And now, perhaps, your buried ashes sleep,
And o'er your honour'd tombs your country's sorrows weep.
Illustrious senators! whose wisdom view'd
Th' approaching storm, and oft its strength subdued:
And thou, young Vasa! once renown'd in war,
Thy country's hope, and freedom's northern star:
Too true, alas! I fear, a tyrant's hand
Has swept your glories from the darken'd land.
Why else these walls resign'd to Christiern's powers,
And I a captive in these mournful towers?
Stockholm once lost, can Sweden yet remain,
Or freedom linger in her desert plain?
Yet, unextinguish'd by the conquering foe,
Some spark in distant provinces may glow;
(As the swift lightning, weary of its course,
On some low distant cloud collects its scatter'd force)
Prepared ere long to burst in tenfold wrath,
And dart destruction on the hostile path.

"Thou too, Ernestus! what protecting doom
Has guided thee thro' fate's tremendous gloom?
Unhappy relic of a patriot line,
Dost thou with all their ancient glory shine,
And, unappall'd by labour or by fear,
Lift for thy country the protecting spear?
Or, wrapt in fetters, and in darkness lost,
Say, dost thou languish for thy native coast?
Perhaps, unnoted, by the tyrant's eyes,
In unknown solitude secure he lies—
Whate'er his fate, nor terror's base control,
Nor hostile bribes, can e'er have moved his soul,
No! taught by me, Ernestus nobly spurns
Each vulgar aim, and for his country burns.

"Why art thou sad, my soul? the eye divine
Still looks on all; to grieve is to repine!
And tho' destruction cover all the shore,
Tho' heroes, kings, and statesmen be no more,
Tho' Stenon, vainly mild, and vainly brave,
Fill the dark bosom of the dreary grave,
Tho' Sweden's sons no earthly hope retain,
Tho' not one spark of ancient fire remain,
Tho' hostile banners crowd her blazing sky,
And stretch'd in dust her smoking castles lie:
Yet, Lord of all! from ruin's blackening ware,
Thy arm is till omnipotent to save:
Thy arm can stop the whirlwind's rushing breath,
And light with hope the funeral shades of death!

"The gloom dissolves! and Sweden's glories old
With added lustre to my sight unfold;
He comes! the doom'd deliverer, from afar,
Gathers his rushing thousands to the war!
His generous might uniting factions greet,
And crush'd oppression groans beneath his feet:
From each bright year successive glories spring,
And shouting millions hail a patriot king!

"For me—these joys assured, in calm repose,
With trembling hope, I wait my end of woes.
Long vers'd in sufferings, I no more complain,
Nor shall one tear my former patience stain.
Long, long, has time, slow rolling, swept away
The dear companions of my earlier day;
So long, that memory scarce their names retains,
And blank oblivion o'er my bosom reigns.
Ernestus, now, alone sustains their part,
(Loved more than all) within this widow'd heart:
And thou, my God, wilt hear my prayers, and spread
A guardian veil o'er youthful virtue's head.
Thy hand supreme, an ever watchful guide,
Has steer'd me safe o'er life's uncertain tide;
Has led me on thro' danger's various forms,
Thro' faithless sunshine, and thro' whelming storms:
Thy kind indulgence now unfolds the page
Of future time to my desponding age.
On thee I call, with grateful joy oppress'd,
To speed my passage to eternal rest!
I am alone on earth—at heaven's bright gate,
Perhaps my friends their kindred spirit wait;
E'n now they wait, to bid my labours cease,
And point my journey to the realms of peace.
As the swift eagle seeks the fields of light,
When rolling clouds invest his mountain height,
My soul, on fiery pinion, upward flies,
And swell'd with grateful hope anticipates the skies."

Nor less Ernestus, from his friend apart,
In lengthen'd thought explored his secret heart.
Far from the rest, in fetters wrapt he lay,
Where the wan moonlight threw a slanting ray
Thro' the dim grate; his rapture beaming eyes
On this he fixes, and in transport cries—
"Oh, sacred lamp! since last on thee I gazed,
What joy unthought this drooping soul has raised!
In deep amaze I view my alter'd state,
And scarce believe the wonders of my fate.
My heart, so late the slave of vice and fear,
Now smiles at death, and thinks no fate severe.
Drop, infamy from thy neglecting hand
My name; deny it a perennial brand;
And cast a friendly veil on the disgrace
A deed like mine entails on human race.
What said I? No.—Pour all thy floods of shame
Thro' future ages on Ernestus' name;
Say, that with cool untrembling hand he spilt
His master's blood, and gloried in his guilt:
So shall the sons of earth in other times,
Know my disgrace, and tremble at my crimes.
Oh Stenon! could my ceaseless tears restore
Thee, patriot chief to Sweden's widow'd shore!
How would I joy, amidst thy martial train,
To mow the adverse ranks, and sweep along the plain,
Tread in thy daring steps with equal fire,
Or at thy feet triumphantly expire!
But vain the wish—let hope's unfading ray
Lead my firm steps in duty's arduous way;
Pain, shame, and death, at heaven's all righteous call
I meet, and in its strength shall conquer all."

So mused the captives; while, in lordly state,
Smiling amidst his peers the monarch sate.
O'er the vast roof, with gilded rafters gay,
Unnumber'd lamps effused a mingled ray:
The dancing glory fill'd the spacious hall,
Play'd on the roof, and cheer'd the pictured wall,
With glancing beams the golden goblets shine,
The red light trembles on the sparkling wine.
Here sat the chiefs, in stormy war renown'd,
Or with the senate's peaceful honours crown'd
On various themes their mingled converse ran,
'Till Trollio to the monarch thus began.

"Your nice experience, prince, and art combined,
Famed thro' the north, long charmed my wondering mind:
This morn, I deem'd it lost; and scarce believ'd
Th' unwonted words my doubtful ear receiv'd.
Can then a mighty monarch eye with fear
The feeble motions of the mountaineer?
Is Christiern dazzled with the empty boast
Of Dalecarlia, and her rugged host?
A fiery race, undisciplined and loud,
They move to war, no army, but a crowd:
Hot from the bowl they stagger to the fight,
And rush impetuous with ungovern'd might.
Shall such resist us? I expect as soon
A midnight rainbow, or a star at noon.
Their quickly muster'd force will quickly yield,
And quit in momentary flight the field.
Or if some deep-mouth'd demagogue should blow
The flame of war, and bid its fury glow,
Yet well-told fiction and inventive art
With milder force can turn the vulgar heart.
Rais'd by a breath their swelling clamours rise,
And with a breath their vain opinion dies."
He spoke; attention sat on every eye,
And all in silence watch'd their king's reply.

"Sees not my Trollio thro' the thin disguise,
Form'd only to deceive Ernestus' eyes?
Vers'd in the changeful temper of mankind,
From day to day I watch'd his varying mind;
I saw, where'er he roved, unsettled thought
In his weak mind a storm of passion wrought;
At length, this morn, he cast a scowling eye
Upon his prince, and pass'd disdainful by.
This theme, I knew, the moody youth would fire,
And rouse to rage his long collected ire.
Enough of this; a weightier care demands
Our keen reflection, and our active hands.
While here we feast, increasing dangers lower,
And artful Frederic shakes my tottering power.
Impatient of their lawful monarch's sway
Full twenty towns sedition's flag display.
Th' ambitious brother of my martial sire
In every bosom fans the growing fire:
His throne he rais'd on Jutland's faithless coast,
Thence o'er the country spread his factious host.
Each day, each hour, the ripening tumult grows,
And discord's torch with added fuel glows.
Ev'n now, perhaps, their midnight council wait
'Till their wise chief shall close some dark debate.
Of this let Trollio tell: my anxious breast,
Oft worn with thought, demands its wonted rest;
And thro' yon western window's chequer'd height,
The setting planets shoot a ruddier light.'
He spoke; departing thro' the unfolded gate
The long procession glides in lordly state;
Then each, with eyes in balmy slumber closed,
From the day's revels and its cares reposed.

Among the ruffians that, allured by gain,
Lurk'd round the dwellings of the royal Dane,
The horrid eminence a Swede might claim,
A lawless wretch—Olaus was his name:
His name, with darkest brand exalted high,
Glared on the towering pitch of infamy.
Twice, o'er his head ere thirty suns had roll'd,
With shameless hand his freedom had he sold,
And twice in battle drawn his venal sword
Against a generous and forgiving lord.
Successive crimes o'er nature soon prevail'd,
And Denmark's king the perfect villain hail'd;
Bade his known skill each midnight treason guide,
And o'er each murdering band preside.

Him to a room the tyrant call'd by night,
Where thick and gloomy grates shut out the light;
From the low roof a smoky taper hung,
And wide around its fitful lustre flung.

"Haste, brave Olaus!" (Scandia's monarch spoke,
And on the ruffian cast a gracious look)
"Haste, to the castle's lofty walls repair,
And find Ernestus, lock'd in fetters there,
Him and his friend from their dark cell convey,
And lead them secret o'er the watery way;
Thou know'st the rest." No more the tyrant said;
And, at his word, th' obedient felon sped.

The stars now gliding down th' ethereal blue,
O'er earth and air a shadowy lustre threw;
When, by relentless avarice led to fate,
Olaus issued from the royal gate.
The ruffian centinels their brother knew,
And at his word the portals open flew.
Then to the tower he moved with silent speed,
And smiled, exulting in the future deed.

So to the town where weary riot sleeps
On purple clouds some dark contagion creeps:
From eastern climes proceeding swift and fell,
Where torrid suns the ripen'd poison swell;
Borne on infected gales along the skies
Th' ethereal store of vast destruction flies,
O'er interposing deserts wins its way,
Blasts the green vale, and withers cheerful day;
Then settling on the walls, with steaming breath
Pours thro' the thicken'd air disease and death.

And now in view the ancient castle frown'd,
With many a dim-appearing turret crown'd:
Here, round the gloomy doors, the warder-band
(A watchful train) in silent order stand.
The jarring gates unfold: two torches play
Thro' the broad gloom, and point the darksome way.
First to Ernestus' cell his way he took,
And from th' astonish'd youth his fetters shook.

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Then thus Olaus: "To my anxious king,
Illustrious Swedes, your nightly steps I bring.
He knows your worth, and deems his power were vain,
Should souls like your's a captive doom sustain.
Secret his purpose, to the farther coast
Of Bothnia's gulph he leads his gather'd host.
When first gray twilight spread her glimmering shade,
On the broad main his streamers were display'd:
And soon th' auspicious breeze shall waft you o'er
To meet your monarch on the destined shore."

He spoke, but neither answer'd—wonder hung
On either mind, and silenced either tongue;
Fix'd for a space, each other's form they view'd;
Then, wrapp'd in thought, their unknown guide pursued.
O'er the dark streets with half-extinguish'd beam,
The scatter'd lamps diffused a quivering gleam;
At distant intervals the ruddy light
Half mingles with the dusky robe of night:
While, as they past, with loud repeated stroke
A midnight bell the solemn stillness broke.

At length they reach the borders of the deep,
Where a selected band in silence keep
Perpetual watch. Before Olaus' stride,
Ere yet he spoke, th' obedient crowd divide.
A lonely boat amidst the harbour stood,
And cast its shadow o'er the neighbouring flood.
This from the strand he loos'd, and bade the sail
Spread its white bosom to th' indulgent gale:
They take their seats, and from the lessening shore
It flies; the parted billows foam before:
On each wan cheek the freshening breezes play,
And speed their passage o'er the watery way.

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Meanwhile the felon, exercised in ill,
Watch'd the due time to work his master's will;
At length his sable robe aside he threw,
And from its dark concealing mantle drew
A dagger's well-tried point. The moonshine play'd
On the smooth surface of the polish'd blade.
Ernestus saw: his heart-blood quicker flow'd;
On his bold cheek the mounting courage glow'd:
Inspired by Heaven, a sudden vigour strung
His youthful limbs; high from the deck he sprung,
And grasp'd the steel, then, wheeling swiftly round,
On the astonish'd ruffian dealt a wound:
Th' unerring blade, with nervous force impell'd,
Deep thro' his neck its bloody passage held,
Prone falls the staggering wretch: the wary foe
With added strength inflicts a second blow;
Then heaves his prostrate bulk with forceful strain,
And hurls him headlong in the flashing main.
High o'er his head the booming surges sweep,
And his soul bursts amidst the roaring deep.

Now on the deck distain'd with recent blood,
Involv'd in thought the silent victor stood,
And turn'd to Harfagar—when on his view
Successive wonders burst, and all around him grew.
Faint and more feint the billowy roar became,
And sunk, and died at last.—With lessening flame
The starry host along th' ethereal way,
Unknown the cause, successive die away.
For yet the morn was far, nor had the sky
With reddening blush proclaimed the solar glory nigh.
Amidst the swiftly-changing scene, amazed,
They stood, and on the brightening ether gazed:
They gazed, but trembled not: some power unseen
Confirmed their hearts to meet the awful scene.
O'er the wide skies, and o'er the ocean's bed,
A growing stream of wavy splendor spread,
As if another sun with bright control
Had changed heaven's motions, and revers'd the pole.

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In silent reverence stood each wondering Swede,
Unmoved by terror: thrice the youth decreed
To speak, and thrice upon his fetter'd tongue,
Restrain'd by awe, th' imperfect accents hung,
When the dread form the boundless stillness broke;
Ocean and air stood listening as he spoke.

"The power who reins the whirlwind's stormy force,
And guides the wheeling planets in their course,
Provoked by crimes, o'er Sweden's guilty land
Stretch'd wide the terrors of his flaming hand:
Her venal priests, her kings in luxury lost,
Her factious nobles, and seditious host,
Call'd down th' unwilling bolt; and many a year
Beheld it blaze, and shrunk beneath its flames severe.

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"Thou, Harfagar, allied to earth no more,
Pursue my flight, and seek our friendly shore.
Thy term of care is past: thy clouded day
Dissolves at length in heaven's eternal ray.
Th' almighty Parent calls thee, from on high,
To fill the seats of immortality.
His eyes the labours of mankind regard,
And suffering virtue claims her late reward.
There may'st thou sit, and far removed from thence
Behold the clouds of passion and of sense:
Smile at the tumults of the world below,
And triumph in the weakness of thy foe.

"And thou, Ernestus—thou, to whom 'tis given
To bear the tidings of benignant Heaven,
Aided by me, pursue the watery road,
And seek Gustavus in his dark abode.
Where swift Dal-Elbe his wandering current leads
Thro' barren mountains and uncultured meads,
Resign'd to cold despair, the hero lies,
Nor knows the favour of th' indulgent skies.
For twenty months unwearied has he traced
The town, the province, and the watery waste:
No aiding friend his patriot labours found;
Fear master'd all, and all were slaves around.
Each hope of liberty and Sweden lost,
He now resolves to seek a foreign coast,
In Albion or in Gaul secure to rest,
And cling to Freedom's warm maternal breast.
Such his intent—Ernestus! be it thine
To tear the warrior from the rash design!
Bid him to arms the free-born peasants move,
Safe in the conduct of the powers above!
Swift as from hill to hill the beacon flies,
In every heart the patriot flame shall rise:
From Wermeland's hills the war-cry shall rebound,
And Sudermania echo back the sound:
The frank Westmanian's generous heart shall glow,
And join the sterner Goth to crush the foe.
Bid him his standard in mid Sweden rear,
And check th' oppressor in his fell career:
Say, that, impatient of unjust command,
Indignant Denmark spurns him from her land!
He builds a lofty tower; the basis stands
Fix'd in the stormy ocean's moving sands:
The turrets in unstable grandeur rise,
The baseless fabric shoots into the skies,
Soon shall the glories of the ponderous hall
Come thundering down, to crush him in their fall!

"Cheer'd with this hope let gallant Vasa raise
His daring soul, to meet immortal praise.
Graced with hereditary virtue shine,
And vindicate the glories of his line.
From age to age that generous line shall reign,
'And sons succeeding sons the lasting race sustain.'"

The mighty seraph ceas'd. While thus he said,
Without a sigh, the old man's spirit fled.
Ere yet, enfranchis'd, thro' the air it past,
On the lov'd youth one parting look it cast,
And gazed on Sweden, then, no more confined,
Soar'd thro' the clouds, and mingled with the wind.
Th' angelic power his sacred arm applied
To push the vessel o'er the yielding tide,
And swifter than the eagle's noon-day flight
It flew: while, melting from the dazzled sight,
O'er the wide heavens a radiant line he drew,
The track still glittering where the glory flew.

And now 'twas silence all: the pale stars shone;
The moon, declining, fill'd her ruddy throne.
But wrapt in deepest trance Ernestus lay,
'Till Phosphor's lamp restored the purple day.

Meanwhile, ere yet on Stockholm's towery height
The morning-planet shed its trembling light,
A troop, with Bernheirn, thro' the portals past,
Whose polish'd arms a glimmering splendor cast.
No single breath the general stillness stirr'd;
Their trampling feet alone the warder heard,
And follow'd with his sight the dusty cloud,
That in its mantle wrapp'd the marching crowd.
O'er crackling bushes scud the warrior train
And pass with haste the solitary plain;
'Till the broad sun discover'd from afar
The dawning lustre of his golden car.
Beneath the covert of a neighbouring wood
They paus'd awhile, and their swift march renew'd.

Now, driven by force celestial o'er the tides,
With lightning speed the rapid pinnace glides:
'Till, having finish'd its predestined way,
Its winged motions silently decay.
And now, from slumber rous'd, Ernestus spied
A river, branching from the ocean tide;
The mighty stream roll'd on its darksome flood
Thro' mossy cavern and thro' tangled wood;
Thence in soft mazes drew its humid train,
To feed the verdure of a lonely plain.
He furl'd the sail, and grasp'd the labouring oar,
And sped to Dalecarlia's welcome shore.
The oar, light-stretching, breaks the sparkling tide.
And scatters the reflected sunbeam wide.

And now, by Trollio sent, without delay
From Stockholm's towers a herald took his way,
Amidst his idle fleet where Norbi slept,
And on the ocean's verge his station kept.
Amongst those peers, whom matchless talents rais'd
To shine in Christiern's court, their names emblazed
With glittering infamy, and splendid shame,
This naval chief held no inglorious fame.
In his firm heart ambition fix'd her reign,
But led celestial mercy in her train.
While others joy'd to crush the yielding foe,
And bid the torch of ruin ceaseless glow,
'Twas his alone, to bid th' uplifted dart
Recoil unsated from the victim's heart,
The wounds of misery and despair to heal,
And smile upon the griefs he could not feel.
A lawless pirate, by his king's command
His numerous navy on the hostile strand
Pour'd their incessant force, and o'er his head
Her wings for many a year bold triumph spread:
'Till, doom'd at length the chance of war to feel,
Entangled in ambition's broken wheel,
Crush'd by his falling master's hapless fate,
Awhile he struggled with th' opposing weight:
In vain; of every hope and power bereft,
Expell'd from Sweden, and by Denmark left,
The chief whose barks once hid the Baltic wave,
In Russian fetters pined a haughty slave.
From lord to lord by envious fortune toss'd,
He join'd at last imperial Charles's host.
An exile, doom'd to waste in joyless strife
The poor remainder of an ill-spent life,
There long he mourns—and adverse fates deny,
His last remaining wish, with fame to die;
Condemn'd amidst the vulgar dead to fall,
And sink obscure beneath a foreign wall.
So perish all, impell'd by thirst of fame
To seek in crimes the lustre of a name;
Who the bright path of genuine greatness seek,
But, having found it, take a course oblique,
Where glittering rainbows rise from far, to cheat
Their wondering eyes, and tempt their eager feet;

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