English

17.

In envy, hatred, jealousy,
In sorrowing pride's intensity,
(Worst madness of worst misery,)
On fearful thoughts his spirit feasts;
And he will seek the King of Priests,
Though doom'd to die, if he draw nigh
The hallow'd kernel of the wood,
His dwelling long ago;
Where Mystery, fed on " weeping blood, "
Is restless as a wintry flood,
And cold as mountain-snow;
Restless as fire! yet still unchang'd;
Or as the changeful, never chang'd,
Unalterable sky!

16.

" Follow me, Lord! " he yell'd aloud;
And Konig, fearless, follow'd him,
Entering the forest's mazes dim,
In sadness bow'd.
They travers'd realms of verdant night,
And many a treeless isle of light,
Whose peaceful bliss the eyes of Love
Watch'd fondly through the blue above;
A wilderness of shaded flowers;
A wilderness of virgin-bowers;
Of beauty (calm, not passionless,)
And lonely song, a wilderness;
For on, on, far and long, they went
Through paths of green bewilderment,

14.

Lo, while he listen'd, Adwick came!
Bare were his limbs, his breast was bare.
Blue, glitter'd through his matted nair
His pain-chang'd eyes of ghastly flame,
As if a wintry tempest threw
Cold lightning on their freezing blue;
And these wild words he utter'd there:
" The crow doth croak. What croaketh he?
" Dead horse! dead horse!" Where may it be?
At Cadeby-Force it lies a corse,
And there a dead maid, near the horse.
The lean crow croak'd, " At Cadeby-Force
I come to feed, dead horse, dead horse!

12.

When ceas'd that voice " whose speech was song. "
Still Konig fondly listen'd long.
" Thou art not here? " at length, he cried,
" Thou trouble-tried, and purified!
Thy voice I heard, but where art thou?
Oh, let me see thee! see thee now!
Yet, ere this fever'd dream is o'er,
Let me embrace thee! — once, once more! "
Then, said the voice " whose speech was song, "
" If thou would'st see me yet again
Where human weakness dwells with pain,
Go, follow him, whose eyes of hate

10.

" Not lonely here? " confus'd, he said;
And from his lip its colour fled,
When, at her feet, he saw a child,
The little foundling, Telmarine.
With Telma's smile, on him it smil'd,
With Telma's locks of raven hue,
And upturn'd eyes of darkest blue.
Confus'd, he nam'd its mother's name!
While pale, as death's cold brow, became
The cheek of Etheline.

11.

" Telma! " he said; nor waited long
Ere seem'd at once to come and go
The shadow of a shape of woe,

9.

He said, and from his forehead fair
Strok'd back dark locks of glossy hair,
Smiling in scorn. She wrongly deem'd
That he was tranquil as he seem'd,
And, cautious, answer'd — boastfully
Feigning a false security:
" If we have caus'd his many sorrows,
Shall I hate him who suffers for us?
My father lov'd the outcast man
Whom priest and priestling therefore ban,
For well they know that Adwick knows
How vain are all their shams and shows!
But though the power that awes ev'n thee

8.

" Daughter of merchant strangers! thou
Endanger'd art, and lonely now.
Within a bow-shot of my tower,
I have a shelter'd plot and bower;
There dwell thou safe, my queen and guest;
This I, who might command, request.
For who seeks now thy dwelling lonely?
Fish-eating, hare-fed Adwick only —
A head-long, blaze-brain'd, wisdom-troubling
Fool, with new good old evils doubling;
And thou, by shielding that doom'd man,
Incurr'st the King-Priest's deadly ban.
Well saith the saw of ancient date,

7.

But Konig comes to Waterside!
He seeks, at length, lost Telma there;
And saith, (his calmness is despair,)
" The lost may with her rival bide;
For after anger, love is sweet;
And friends long-parted long to meet. "
The self-caught trapper rues the hour
When first he tried his cruel power
(Oh, heartless deed!) to undermine
The virgin name of Etheline,
And do an orphan wrong.
His shaft is shot, and ill it sped;
For she loves him, and he the dead!
Defeated is the strong.

6.

Week follows week; and unseen hands
For Etheline wild berries bring,
Pure water from the living spring,
And fire-wood from the shore;
Kind whisperings reach her listening ear;
Unseen, a kind shape near her stands;
And friendly feet are wandering near,
Though Konig comes no more.
Yet Adwick loves not Telmarine!
Her sire is lov'd by Etheline,
And Adwick hates that sire!
The man is mad. A cruel thought,
And half-form'd dark intentions float
Within his brain of fire.

3.

The wild song ceas'd; and with a scream,
Uprais'd in bed, the maiden said,
" Could she be here? I do not dream.
Where art thou? thou who sung'st so well!
My Telma! Friend, lov'd long and well!
Answer me!
Oh, Beautiful and Terrible!
Answer me!
Why hast thou absent been so long?
I know, my envy did thee wrong;
But I have miss'd thee, yearn'd for thee.
Belov'd and Dreadful! let me see
Thy visage pale! and tell to me