"Say, is there any present here,
Whom I can have a cause to fear?—
Whom it were wrongful to perplex,
Or faulty policy to vex?
In what affrights the quiet mind
My bitter thoughts employment find!
In what torments a common grief
Do I alone expect relief!
Our aching sorrows to disclose,
Our discontents, our wrongs repeat,
To hurl defiance at our foes,
And let the soul respire, is sweet!
All that my conscience wills I speak
At once, and then my heart may break!
"Too sure King Henry's presage rose;—
De Brehan link'd him with our foes:
Yes! ours! the Brehans us'd to be
Patterns of faith and loyalty:
And many a knightly badge they wore,
And many a trace their 'scutcheons bore,
Of noble deeds in days of yore,—
Of royal bounty, and such trust
As suits the generous and the just.
"From every record it appears,
That Normandy three hundred years
Has seen in swift succession run
With English kings, from sire to son:
But which of all those records saith,
That we may change and barter faith:
That if our favour is not sure,
Or our inheritance secure;
If envy of a rival's fame,
Or hatred at a foeman's name,
Or other reason unconfest,
Now feigning sleep in every breast;
Upon our minds, our interest weigh,
While any fiercer passion sway;
We may invite a foreign yoke,
All truth disown'd, allegiance broke?
Plot, and lay guileful snares to bring,
At cost of blood, a stranger king?
And of what blood, if it succeed,
Do ye atchieve the glorious deed?
Not of the base! when ye surprize
A lurking mischief in the eyes,
Dark hatred, cunning prompt to rise,
And leap and catch at any prey,
Such are your choice! your comrades they!
But if a character should stand
Not merely built by human hand;
Common observances; the ill
Surrounding all; a wayward will;
Envy; resentment; falsehood's ease
To win its way, evade, and please:
If, turning from this worldly lore,
As soul-debasing, servile, poor,
The growing mind becomes, at length,
Healthy and firm in moral strength;
Allows no parley and no plea,
The sources of its actions free,
They spring strait forward, to a goal
Which bounds, surmounts, and crowns the whole!
Ye seek not to allay such force,
To interrupt so bold a course!
What were the use of minds like these,
That will not on occasion seize,
Nor stoop to aid the dark design,
Nor follow in the devious line?
As soon, in the close twisted brake,
Could lions track the smooth, still snake,
As they the sinuous path pursue
Which policy may point to you!
Nay, menace not with eyes, my lords!
Ye could not fright me with your swords.
"E'en threats to punish, and to kill
With tortures difficult to bear,
Seem as they would not higher fill
The measure of my own despair!
"Such terrors could not veil the hand
Now pointing to my husband's bier;
Nor could such pangs a groan command
The childless mother should not hear!
"All now is chang'd! all contest o'er,
Here sea-girt England reigns no more;
And if your oaths are bound as fast,
And kept more strictly than the last,
Ye may, perchance, behold the time
Service to her becomes a crime!
"The troubles calling Eustace o'er,
Refresh'd my eyes, my heart, once more;
And when I gave, with pleasure wild,
Into his circling arms our child,
I seem'd to hold, all evil past,
My happiness secure at last;
But found, too soon, in every look,
In every pondering word he spoke,
Receding thought, mysterious aim:
As I did all his pity claim.
A watchfulness almost to fear
Did in each cautious glance appear.
And still I sought to fix his eye,
"And read the fate impending there,—
In vain; for it refus'd reply.
"'Canst thou not for a moment bear
Even thy Marie's look,' I cried,
'More dear than all the world beside?'
He answer'd,' Do not thou upbraid!
And blame me not, if thus afraid
A needful, dear request to make.
One painful only for thy sake,
I hesitate, and dread to speak,
Seeing that flush upon thy cheek,
That shrinking, apprehensive air.—
Oh! born with me some ills to share,
But many years of future bliss,
Of real, tranquil happiness;
I may not think that thou wouldst choose
This prospect pettishly to lose
For self-indulgence! Understood,
Love is the seeking others' good.
If we can ne'er resign delight,
Nor lose its object from our sight;
And only present dangers brave,
That which we dearest hold to save;—
If, when remov'd beyond our eye,
All faith in heaven's protection die,
Can all our tenderness atone
For ills which spring from that alone?'
My fancy rush'd the pause between—
'What can this fearful prelude mean?
Art thou but seeking some pretence,
So lately met! to send me hence?
Believ'st thou terrors will not shake,
Nor doubts distract, nor fears awake,
In absence? when no power, no charm,
Can grant a respite from alarm!
Unreal evils manifold,
Often and differently told,
Scaring repose, each instant rise,
False, but the cause of tears and sighs.
How often I should see thee bleed!
New terrors would the past succeed,
With not a smile to intervene
Of fair security between!'
"'No, Marie, no! my wife shall share
With me the trials soldiers bear:
No longer and no more we part.—-
Thy presence needful to my heart
I now more evidently know;
Making the careful moments flow
To happy music! on my brow
The iron casque shall lighter prove,—
The corslet softer on my breast,
The shield upon my arm shall rest
More easy, when the hand of love
There places them. Our succours soon
Arrive; and then, whatever boon
I shall think fitting to demand,
My gracious monarch's bounteous hand
Awards as guerdon for my charge,
And bids my wishes roam at large.
Then if we from these rebels tear
The traitor honours which they wear,
Thy father's tides and domain
Shall flourish in his line again!
And Marie's child, in time to come,
Shall call his grandsire's castle, home!
Alas! poor babe! the scenes of war
For him too harsh and frightful are!
Would that he might in safety rest
Upon my gentle mother's breast!
That in the vessel now at bay,
In Hugh de Lacy's care he lay!
My heart and reason would be free,
If he were safe beyond the sea.