Volume I Part 1 (2/2)
Nearer came Joan, and Bessy hung With face averted, near enough To hear, and sob unheard; the young And careless ones had scampered off Meantime, and sought the loftiest place To beacon the approaching chase.
'Daily upon the meads to browse, Goes Nancy with those dairy cows You see behind the clematis: And such a favourite she is, That when fatigued, and helter skelter, Among them from her foes to shelter, She dashes when the chase is over, They'll close her in and give her cover, And bend their horns against the hounds, And low, and keep them out of bounds!
From the house dogs she dreads no harm, And is good friends with all the farm, Man, and bird, and beast, howbeit Their natures seem so opposite.
And she is known for many a mile, And noted for her splendid style, For her clear leap and quick slight hoof; Welcome she is in many a roof.
And if I say, I love her, man!
I say but little: her fine eyes full Of memories of my girl, at Yule And May-time, make her dearer than Dumb brute to men has been, I think.
So dear I do not find her dumb.
I know her ways, her slightest wink, So well; and to my hand she'll come, Sidelong, for food or a caress, Just like a loving human thing.
Nor can I help, I do confess, Some touch of human sorrowing To think there may be such a doubt That from the next world she'll be shut out, And parted from me! And well I mind How, when my girl's last moments came, Her soft eyes very soft and kind, She joined her hands and prayed the same, That she ”might meet her father, mother, Sister Bess, and each dear brother, And with them, if it might be, one Who was her last companion.”
Meaning the fawn--the doe you mark - For my bay mare was then a foal, And time has pa.s.sed since then:- but hark!'
For like the shrieking of a soul Shut in a tomb, a darkened cry Of inward-wailing agony Surprised them, and all eyes on each Fixed in the mute-appealing speech Of self-reproachful apprehension: Knowing not what to think or do: But Joan, recovering first, broke through The instantaneous suspension, And knelt upon the ground, and guessed The bitterness at a glance, and pressed Into the comfort of her breast The deep-throed quaking shape that drooped In misery's wilful aggravation, Before the farmer as he stooped, Touched with accusing consternation: Soothing her as she sobbed aloud:- 'Not me! not me! Oh, no, no, no!
Not me! G.o.d will not take me in!
Nothing can wipe away my sin!
I shall not see her: you will go; You and all that she loves so: Not me! not me! Oh, no, no, no!'
Colourless, her long black hair, Like seaweed in a tempest tossed Tangling astray, to Joan's care She yielded like a creature lost: Yielded, drooping toward the ground, As doth a shape one half-hour drowned, And heaved from sea with mast and spar, All dark of its immortal star.
And on that tender heart, inured To flatter basest grief, and fight Despair upon the brink of night, She suffered herself to sink, a.s.sured Of refuge; and her ear inclined To comfort; and her thoughts resigned To counsel; her wild hair let brush From off her weeping brows; and shook With many little sobs that took Deeper-drawn breaths, till into sighs, Long sighs, they sank; and to the 'hus.h.!.+'
Of Joan's gentle chide, she sought Childlike to check them as she ought, Looking up at her infantwise.
And Willie, gazing on them both, s.h.i.+vered with bliss through blood and brain, To see the darling of his troth Like a maternal angel strain The sinful and the sinless child At once on either breast, and there In peace and promise reconciled Unite them: nor could Nature's care With subtler sweet beneficence Have fed the springs of penitence, Still keeping true, though harshly tried, The vital prop of human pride.
BEAUTY ROHTRAUT (From Moricke)
What is the name of King Ringang's daughter?
Rohtraut, Beauty Rohtraut!
And what does she do the livelong day, Since she dare not knit and spin alway?
O hunting and fis.h.i.+ng is ever her play!
And, heigh! that her huntsman I might be!
I'd hunt and fish right merrily!
Be silent, heart!
And it chanced that, after this some time, - Rohtraut, Beauty Rohtraut, - The boy in the Castle has gained access, And a horse he has got and a huntsman's dress, To hunt and to fish with the merry Princess; And, O! that a king's son I might be!
Beauty Rohtraut I love so tenderly.
Hus.h.!.+ hus.h.!.+ my heart.
Under a grey old oak they sat, Beauty, Beauty Rohtraut!
She laughs: 'Why look you so slyly at me?
If you have heart enough, come, kiss me.'
Cried the breathless boy, 'kiss thee?'
But he thinks, kind fortune has favoured my youth; And thrice he has kissed Beauty Rohtraut's mouth.
Down! down! mad heart.
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