times, though restrained by correct taste. Among the characters, many of which are such as we expect to find in this department of poetry, it is impossible not to distinguish that of Arthur; in which, identifying himself with his original, the author has contrived to unite the valour of the hero, the courtesy and dignity of the monarch, and the amiable weaknesses of an ordinary mortal, and thus to present to us the express lineaments of the flower of chivalry.
The first stanza of the poem enumerates the qualities that must be found in De Vaux's destined bride. The lines are eminently beautiful; but when our readers recollect some of the events which we have detailed, they may be inclined to doubt whether the enamoured baron, before completing his union with Gyneth, has not found it necessary to lower his original pretensions.
• Where is the maiden of mortal strain,
That may match with the Baron of Triermain ? She must be lovely and constant and kind, Holy and pure and humble of mind, Blithe of cheer and gentle of mood, Courteous and generous and noble of blood- Lovely as the sun's first ray,
When it breaks the clouds of an April day; Constant and true as the widow'd dove, Kind as a minstrel that sings of love; Pure as the fountain in rocky cave, Where never sun-beam kiss'd the wave; Humble as maiden that loves in vain, Holy as hermit's vesper strain; Gentle as breeze that but whispers and dies, Yet blithe as the light leaves that dance in its sighs, Courteous as monarch the morn he is crown'd, Generous as spring-dews that bless the glad ground; Noble her blood as the currents that met In the veins of the noblest Plantagenet- Such must her form be, her mood and her strain,
That shall match with Sir Roland of Triermain.'-p. 15.
We are strongly tempted to insert some of the stanzas in which the drama is opened; to gratify our readers with the anxiety of De Vaux after being visited by the phantom, with the rapid journey of his squire from Triermain to the banks of Eamont, which is executed in the peculiar style of Mr. Scott, and above all with the first appearance of the hermit on whose response so many important events depended. But we cannot insert all the passages that are illustrative of the poem; and we must now suppose the hermit's tale commenced, and Arthur set out on his romantic adventure.
• With toil the king his way pursued By lonely Threlkeld's waste and wood,
Till on his course obliquely shone The narrow valley of SAINT JOHN, Down sloping to the western sky, Where lingering sun-beams love to lie. Right glad to feel those beams again, The king drew up his charger's rein; With gauntlet raised he skreen'd his sight, As dazzled with the level light, And, from beneath his glove of mail, Scann'd at his ease the lovely vale, While 'gainst the sun his armour bright Gleam'd ruddy like the beacon's light.'-p. 31.
He descried the turrets of the castle, the effect of which and the surrounding scenery on the gallant monarch, we have already mentioned.
The ivory bugle's golden tip
Twice touched the monarch's manly lip, And twice his hand withdrew. Think not but Arthur's heart was good! His shield was cross'd by the blessed rood, Had a pagan host before him stood,
He had charged them through and through;
Yet the silence of that ancient place Sunk on his heart, and he paused a sp Ere yet his horn he blew.'-p. 36.
He blew his horn, however; and entering the hall of the castle, discovered that his momentary apprehensions were groundless, for
- the cressets, which odours flung aloft,
Shewed, by their yellow light and soft, A band of damsels fair!
Onward they came, like summer wave That dances to the shore; An hundred voices welcome gave, And welcome o'er and o'er! An hundred lovely hands assail The bucklers of the monarch's mail, And busy laboured to unhasp Rivet of steel and iron clasp ;
One wrapp'd him in a mantle fair, And one flung odours on his hair;
His short curled ringlets one smooth'd down, One wreathed them with a myrtle crown. A bride upon her wedding day
Was tended ne'er by troop so gay.'-p. 39.
The frolic croud and their employments, are thus described
'Then o'er him mimic chains they fling, Framed of the fairest flowers of spring. While some their gentle force unite, Onward to drag the wondering knight, Some, bolder, urge his pace with blows, Dealt with the lily or the rose. Behind him were in triumph borne The warlike arms he late had worn. Four of the train combined to rear The terrors of Tintadgel's spear; Two, laughing at their lack of strength, Dragg'd Caliburn in cumbrous length; One, while she aped a martial stride, Placed on her brows the helmet's pride, Then scream'd, 'twixt laughter and surprise, To feel its depth o'erwhelm her eyes.'-p. 41.
The queen's approach being perceived, silence was commanded by the eldest lady of the tram, a veteran between seventeen and eighteen. It is impossible to omit the description of her entrance, in which, as well as in the contrasted enumeration of the levities of her attendants, the author, we think, has had in his recollection Gray's celebrated description of the power of harmony to produce all the graces of motion in the body. The banquet immediately follows, and the commencement of the intimacy between Arthur and Guendolen. The passage is somewhat long; but we must be permitted to insert the whole of it, for on the opinion that may be formed even of these two stanzas we are willing to hazard the justness of the eulogium we have bestowed on the general poetical merit of this little work.
'The attributes of these high days Now only live in minstrel lays; For Nature, now exhausted, still Was then profuse of good and ill. Strength was gigantic, valour high, And wisdom soar'd beyond the sky, And beauty had such matchless beam, As lights not now a lover's dream. Yet, e'en in that romantic age,
Ne'er were such charms by mortal seen As Arthur's dazzled eyes engage, When forth on that enchanted stage, With glittering train of maid and page,
Advanced the castle's Queen. While up the hall she slowly passed, Her dark eye on the king she cast, That flash'd expression strong;
The longer dwelt that lingering look, Her cheek the livelier colour took, And scarce the shame-faced king could brook
The gaze that lasted long. A sage, who had that look espied, Where kindling passion strove with pride, Had whispered, "Prince, beware! From the chafed tyger rend the prey, Rush on the lion when at bay, Bar the fell dragon's blighted way, But shun that lovely snare!" xx.
At once, that inward strife suppress'd, The dame approached her warlike guest, With greeting in that fair degree, Where female pride and courtesy Are blended with such passing art As awes at once and charms the heart. A courtly welcome first she gave, Then of his goodness 'gan to crave Construction fair and true Of her light maidens' idle mirth, Who drew from lonely glens their birth, Nor knew to pay to stranger worth
And dignity their due; And then she pray'd that he would rest That night her castle's honoured guest. The monarch meetly thanks express'd; The banquet rose at her behest, With lay and tale, and laugh and jest, Apace the evening flew.'-p. 43.
The scene in which Arthur, sated with his lawless love, and awake at last to a sense of his duties, announces his immediate departure, is managed, we think, with uncommon skill and delicacy.
Three summer months had scantly flown, When Arthur, in embarrassed tone, Spoke of his liegemen and his throne; Said, all too long had been his stay, And duties, which a monarch sway, Duties, unknown to humbler men, Must tear her knight from Guendolen.- She listened silently the while, Her mood expressed in bitter smile; Beneath her eye must Arthur quail, And oft resume the unfinished tale, Confessing, by his downcast eye, The wrong he sought to justify.
He ceased. A moment mute she gazed, And then her looks to heaven she raised; One palm her temples veiled, to hide The tear that sprung in spite of pride; The other for an instant pressed The foldings of her silken vest!'-p. 61.
He then attempts to sooth her, but in vain, by the promise we have already mentioned in the narrative; and he resolves on his de parture. It is thus described, and in the appearance and bearing of Guendolen our readers will not fail to observe those minute cir'cumstances by which Arthur, fifteen years afterwards, was enabled to recognize her daughter and his.
'At dawn of morn, ere on the brake His matins did a warbler make, Or stirr'd his wing to brush away A single dew-drop from the spray, Ere yet a sunbeam, through the mist, The castle battlements had kiss'd, The gates revolve, the draw-bridge falls, And Arthur sallies from the walls. Doff'd his soft garb of Persia's loom, And steel from spur to helmet-plume, His Lybian steed full proudly trode, And joyful neighed beneath his load. The monarch gave a passing sigh To penitence and pleasures by, When, lo! to his astonished ken Appeared the form of Guendolen.
Beyond the outmost wall she stood, Attired like huntress of the wood; Sandall'd her feet, her ancles bare, And eagle plumage decked her hair; Firm was her look, her bearing bold, And in her hand a cup of gold. "Thou goest!" she said, " and ne'er again Must we two meet, in joy or pain. Full fain would I this hour delay, Though weak the wish yet, wilt thou stay?- No! thou look'st forward. Still attend,- Part we like lover and like friend." She raised the cup-" Not this the juice The sluggish vines of earth produce; Pledge we, at parting, in the draught Which Genii love!"-she said, and quaff'd; And strange unwonted lustres fly
From her flushed cheek and sparkling eye.'-p. 64.
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