FRAGMENT
OF
A
POEM
.
GLOOMY
and
still
was
the
broad
solemn
deep
,
Whose
rolling
tides
for
twice
a
hundred
years
,
Had
lashed
the
rugged
walls
of
Tora's
Towers
,
The
strong
abode
of
Curdmore's
haughty
kings
.
Its
frowning
battlements
o'erhung
the
sea
,
Where
in
the
fair
serene
of
summer
days
,
Each
answering
Tower
a
nether
heaven
did
meet
,
And
cast
its
pictured
shadow
on
the
waves
.
But
now
,
no
mild
blue
sky
in
gentle
grandeur
,
Did
lend
its
azure
covering
to
the
main
,
Softening
the
most
majestic
work
of
nature
,
Nor
even
a
sunbeam
through
the
rifted
cloud
,
Glanced
on
the
distant
wave
.
Dull
heavy
clouds
hung
in
the
lower
air
,
Misty
and
shapeless
,
like
the
humid
chaos
,
Ere
God
divided
it
and
called
it
water
.
The
creatures
of
the
deep
forgot
their
prey
,
Leaving
the
upper
waves
to
seek
the
bottom
;
The
flocking
sea-fowl
homeward
bent
their
flight
,
In
dusky
bands
to
caverned
rock
or
cliff
.
A
deadly
calm
reigned
in
the
stately
woods
,
That
hung
aloft
upon
the
hardy
shore
;
The
mingled
music
of
the
forest
ceased
Before
the
day
had
run
its
wonted
term
,
Yet
birds
of
night
forgot
their
twilight
song
,
And
every
creature
,
whether
fierce
or
tame
,
Skulked
in
its
hole
,
seized
with
unwonted
fear
.
Nor
was
that
creature
styled
the
lord
of
earth
Without
his
fear
:
that
secret
worst
of
fears
,
The
mind
unknowing
what
it
has
to
dread
.
Fenced
in
the
seeming
safety
of
his
home
,
Man's
sometime-haughty
spirit
sank
within
him
,
And
dark
uncertainty
of
ill
unseen
Encreased
the
sombre
gloom
of
Tora's
Halls
.
The
sullen
watch
did
lean
upon
their
arms
,
With
quickened
breath
half-check'd
and
listening
ear
,
In
expectation
of
some
unknown
thing
.
Each
smothered
in
his
breast
his
untold
fears
,
And
wished
within
himself
the
hours
might
speed
,
But
that
the
night
with
tenfold
horror
came
,
To
close
the
frightful
day
.
No
cheerful
converse
graced
the
evening
board
,
Slow
went
the
goblet
round
,
each
face
was
grave
;
And
ere
the
first
dark
watch
fulfilled
its
term
,
All
were
retired
to
rest
in
Tora's
Halls
.
Sleep
came
,
and
closed
full
many
a
weary
eye
,
But
not
that
gentle
kindly
visitor
,
That
oft-times
bringeth
to
the
poor
man's
cot
,
More
wealth
than
e'er
enjoyed
his
haughty
lord
;
Or
to
the
couch
of
the
dejected
lover
Brings
true
love-knots
,
and
kind
remembrances
,
And
cheering
glances
,
making
him
by
night
The
favoured
man
he
fain
would
be
by
day
;
Nor
yet
that
haggard
tyrant
of
the
night
,
Who
comes
oft-times
to
shake
the
ill
man's
bed
,
Tearing
him
from
his
heaps
of
silk
and
down
,
To
hang
his
quivering
carcase
o'er
the
gulf
,
Or
through
the
air
by
foul
fiends
goaded
on
,
Bears
him
with
dizzy
,
furious
speed
along
;
But
she
,
stiff
shrouded
in
her
blackest
weed
,
And
swathed
with
leaden
bands
,
awful
and
still
,
Who
by
the
couch
of
the
condemned
wretch
,
Harassed
and
spent
,
before
the
morning
breaks
,
Whose
setting
sun
he
never
shall
behold
,
Oft
takes
her
stand
,
and
scarce
is
known
from
death
.
But
still
the
red
lamp
,
pendent
from
the
roof
,
Did
cast
its
trembling
and
unjoyous
light
Athwart
the
lofty
chamber
of
the
king
;
For
he
alone
felt
not
her
weighty
power
.
A
load
of
cares
lay
heavy
at
his
heart
;
His
thoughtful
eyes
were
bent
upon
the
ground
;
And
the
unsuiting
gravity
of
age
,
Had
sadly
sobered
o'er
his
cheek
of
youth
,
That
newly
blushed
beneath
a
galling
crown
.
Long
had
his
warlike
father
ruled
the
land
,
Whose
vengeful
bloody
sword
no
scabbard
knew
.
Wild
was
his
fury
in
the
field
of
battle
,
And
dreadful
was
his
wrath
to
nations
round
,
But
kind
and
glowing
yearned
his
manly
heart
,
To
the
brave
hardy
sons
of
his
blue
hills
.
He
owned
a
friend
and
brother
of
the
field
,
In
each
broad-chested
brawny
warrior
,
Who
followed
to
the
fight
his
daring
steps
.
One
deed
of
fame
,
done
by
a
son
of
Curdmore
,
He
prized
more
than
the
wealth
of
peaceful
realms
,
And
dealt
them
death
and
ruin
in
his
love
.
Unshaped
and
rude
the
state
,
and
knew
no
law
,
Save
that
plain
sense
which
nature
gives
to
all
,
Of
right
and
wrong
within
the
monarch's
breast
;
And
when
no
storm
of
passion
shook
his
soul
,
It
was
a
court
of
mildest
equity
.
One
distant
nation
only
in
the
field
,
Could
meet
his
boasted
arms
with
equal
strength
.
Impetuous
,
rushing
from
their
mountains
rude
,
Oft
had
they
striven
like
two
adverse
winds
,
That
bursting
from
their
pent
and
narrow
glens
,
On
the
wide
desert
meet
,
—
in
wild
contention
Tossing
aloft
in
air
dun
clouds
of
sand
,
Tearing
the
blasted
herbage
from
its
bed
,
And
bloating
the
clear
face
of
beauteous
heaven
With
the
dissevered
fragments
of
the
earth
,
Till
spent
their
force
,
low
growling
they
retire
,
And
for
a
time
within
their
caverns
keep
,
Gathering
new
force
with
which
they
issue
forth
To
rage
and
roar
again
.
—
So
held
they
strife
.
But
even
while
Corvan
gloried
in
his
might
,
Death
came
and
laid
him
low
.
His
spear
was
hung
high
in
the
sombre
hall
,
Whose
lofty
walls
with
darkening
armour
clad
,
Spoke
to
the
valiant
of
departed
heroes
,
A
fellow
now
to
those
which
rest
ungrasped
,
Unburnished
,
and
know
no
master's
hand
.
A
hardy
people
,
scattered
o'er
the
hills
,
And
wild
uncultivated
plains
of
Curdmore
,
Depending
more
upon
to-morrow's
chace
,
Than
on
the
scanty
produce
of
their
fields
,
Where
the
proud
warrior
,
as
debased
by
toil
,
Throws
down
unwillingly
his
boasted
weapons
,
To
mar
the
mossy
earth
with
his
rude
tillage
,
Bedding
his
dwarfish
grain
in
tracks
less
deep
,
Than
he
would
plough
the
bosom
of
a
foe
;
A
people
rude
but
generous
now
looked
up
,
With
wistful
and
expecting
eyes
,
to
Allener
,
The
son
of
their
beloved
,
their
only
hope
.
The
general
burthen
,
though
but
new
to
care
,
Was
laid
on
him
.
His
heart
within
him
whispered
That
he
was
left
in
rough
and
perilous
times
,
Like
elder
brother
of
a
needy
race
,
To
watch
and
care
for
all
,
and
it
was
thoughtful
;
Sombre
and
thoughtful
as
unjoyous
age
.
But
never
had
he
felt
his
mind
so
dark
,
As
in
this
heavy
and
mysterious
hour
.
With
drooping
head
and
arms
crossed
o'er
his
breast
,
His
spirit
all
collected
in
itself
,
As
it
had
ceased
to
animate
the
body
,
He
sat
,
when
like
pent
air
from
a
dank
cave
,
He
felt
a
cold
and
shivering
wind
pass
o'er
him
,
And
from
his
sinking
bosom
raised
his
head
.
A
thick
and
mazy
mist
had
filled
the
chamber
,
Thro'
which
the
feeble
lamp
its
blue
flame
showed
With
a
pale
moony
circlet
compassed
round
,
As
when
the
stars
through
dank
unwholesome
air
Show
thro'
the
night
their
blunted
heads
,
enlarged
,
Foretelling
plagues
to
some
affrighted
land
.
When
,
lo
!
a
strange
light
,
breaking
thro'
the
gloom
,
Struck
his
astonished
mind
with
awe
and
wonder
.
It
rose
before
him
in
a
streamy
column
,
As
,
seen
upon
the
dim
benighted
ocean
,
By
partial
moon-beams
through
some
severed
cloud
,
The
towering
,
wan
,
majestic
waterspout
Delights
and
awes
the
wondering
mariner
.
Soul-awed
within
himself
shrunk
Curdmore's
king
;
Thick
beat
his
fluttering
heart
against
his
breast
,
As
towards
him
the
moving
light
approached
,
While
opening
by
degrees
its
beamy
sides
,
A
mighty
phantom
showed
his
awful
form
,
Gigantic
,
far
above
the
sons
of
men
.
A
robe
of
watery
blue
in
wreathy
folds
,
Did
lightly
float
o'er
his
majestic
limbs
:
Firm
in
their
strength
more
than
was
ever
pictured
,
Of
fabled
heroes
in
their
fields
of
war
.
One
hand
was
wide
outstretchd
in
threatened
act
,
As
if
to
draw
down
vengeance
from
the
skies
,
The
other
,
spread
upon
his
ample
breast
,
Seemed
to
betoken
what
restrained
its
fellow
.
Thus
far
to
mortal
eye
he
stood
revealed
,
But
misty
vapour
shrouded
all
above
,
Save
that
a
ruddy
glow
did
oft
break
through
With
hasty
flash
,
according
with
the
vehemence
And
agitation
of
the
form
beneath
,
Speaking
the
terrors
of
that
countenance
,
The
friendly
darkness
veiled
.
Commotions
strange
disturbed
the
heaving
earth
.
A
hollow
muffled
rumbling
from
beneath
,
Rolled
deeply
in
its
dark
and
secret
course
.
The
castle
trembled
on
its
rocky
base
;
And
loosened
fragments
from
the
nodding
towers
,
Fell
on
the
flinty
ground
with
hideous
crash
.
The
bursting
gates
against
the
portal
rung
,
And
windows
clattered
in
their
trembling
walls
;
And
as
the
phantom
trode
,
far
echoing
loud
,
The
smitten
pavement
gave
a
fearful
sound
.
He
stopped
,
the
trembling
walls
their
motion
ceased
,
The
earth
was
still
;
he
raised
his
awful
voice
.
"
Thou
creature
,
set
o'er
creatures
like
thyself
,
To
bear
the
rule
for
an
appointed
season
,
Bethink
thee
well
,
and
commune
with
thy
heart
.
If
one
man's
blood
can
mark
the
unblest
front
,
And
visit
with
extreme
of
inward
pangs
The
dark
breast
of
the
secret
murderer
,
Canst
thou
have
strength
all
singly
in
thyself
,
To
bear
the
blood
of
thousands
on
thy
head
,
And
wrongs
which
cry
to
heaven
and
shall
be
heard
?
Kings
to
the
slaughter
lead
their
people
forth
,
And
home
return
again
with
thinned
bands
,
Bearing
to
every
house
its
share
of
mourning
,
Whilst
high
in
air
they
hang
their
trophied
spoils
,
And
call
themselves
the
heroes
of
the
earth
.
"
Thy
race
is
stained
with
blood
:
such
were
thy
fathers
:
But
they
are
passed
away
and
have
their
place
,
And
thou
still
breathest
in
thy
weeds
of
clay
,
Therefore
to
thee
their
doom
is
veiled
in
night
.
Yet
mayst
thou
be
assured
,
that
mighty
Power
Who
gave
to
thee
thy
form
of
breathing
flesh
,
Of
such
like
creatures
as
thyself
endowed
,
Although
innumerable
on
this
earth
,
Doth
knowledge
take
,
and
careth
for
the
least
,
And
will
prepare
his
vengeance
for
the
man
Whose
wasteful
pride
uproots
what
he
hath
sown
.
And
now
he
sets
two
paths
before
thy
choice
,
Which
are
permitted
thee
:
even
thou
thyself
Mayst
fix
thy
doom
,
—
a
doom
which
cannot
change
.
Wilt
thou
draw
out
securely
on
thy
throne
A
life
of
such
content
and
happiness
As
thy
wild
country
and
rude
people
yield
,
Laying
thee
late
to
rest
in
peaceful
age
,
Where
thy
forefathers
sleep
;
thy
name
respected
,
Thy
children
after
thee
to
fill
thy
seat
?
Or
wilt
thou
,
as
thy
secret
thoughts
incline
,
Across
the
untried
deep
conduct
thy
bands
,
Attack
the
foe
on
their
unguarded
coast
,
O'ercome
their
strength
at
little
cost
of
blood
,
And
raise
thy
trophies
on
a
distant
shore
,
Where
none
of
all
thy
race
have
footing
gained
,
—
Gaining
for
Curdmore
wealth
,
and
power
,
and
fame
,
But
not
that
better
gain
,
content
and
happiness
?
Wealth
,
power
,
renown
,
thou
mayest
for
Curdmore
earn
,
But
mayest
not
live
to
see
her
rising
state
:
For
far
from
hence
,
upon
that
hostile
shore
,
A
sepulchre
which
owns
no
kindred
bone
,
Gapes
to
receive
thee
in
the
pride
of
youth
.
This
is
the
will
of
Heaven
:
then
choose
thy
fate
,
Weak
son
of
earth
,
I
leave
thee
to
thy
troubles
;
A
little
while
shall
make
us
more
alike
,
A
spirit
shalt
thou
be
when
next
we
meet
.
It
vanished
.
Black
mist
thickened
where
it
stood
.
A
hollow
sounding
wind
rushed
thro'
the
chamber
,
And
rent
in
twain
the
deep
embodied
darkness
Which
,
curling
round
in
many
a
pitchy
volume
,
On
either
side
,
did
slowly
roll
away
,
Like
two
huge
waves
of
death
.
And
now
the
waving
banners
of
the
castle
,
In
early
breath
of
morn
began
to
play
,
And
faintly
through
the
lofty
windows
looked
The
doubtful
grey-light
on
the
silent
chambers
Sleep's
deadly
heaviness
fled
with
the
night
,
And
lighter
airy
fancies
of
the
dawn
Confusedly
floated
in
the
half-waked
mind
,
Till
roused
with
fuller
beams
of
powerful
light
,
Up
sprung
the
dreamers
from
their
easy
beds
,
And
saw
with
a
relieved
and
thankful
heart
,
The
fair
blue
sky
,
the
uncapped
distant
hills
,
The
woods
,
and
streams
,
and
valleys
brightening
gladly
,
In
the
blest
light
of
heaven
.
But
neither
hill
,
nor
vale
,
nor
wood
,
nor
stream
,
Nor
yet
the
sun
high
riding
in
his
strength
,
That
beauty
gave
to
all
,
cheered
Allener
,
Who
wist
not
when
it
rose
,
nor
when
it
set
.
Silent
but
troubled
in
his
lofty
chamber
Two
days
he
sat
and
shunned
the
searching
eyes
,
The
sidelong
looks
of
many
a
friendly
chief
.
Oft
in
his
downcast
eye
the
round
tear
hung
,
Whilst
by
his
side
he
clenched
his
trembling
hand
,
As
if
to
rouse
the
ardour
of
his
soul
.
His
seat
beneath
him
shook
,
—
high
heaved
his
breast
,
And
burst
the
bracings
of
its
tightened
vestment
.
The
changing
passions
of
his
troubled
soul
Passed
with
dark
speed
across
his
varied
face
;
Each
passing
shadow
followed
by
a
brother
,
Like
clouds
across
the
moon
in
a
wild
storm
:
So
warred
his
doubtful
mind
,
till
by
degrees
The
storm
subsided
,
calmer
thoughts
prevailed
;
Slow
wore
the
gloom
away
like
morning
mist
;
A
gleam
of
joy
spread
o'er
his
lightened
visage
,
And
from
his
eye-balls
shot
that
vivid
fire
,
Which
kindles
in
the
bosoms
of
the
brave
,
When
the
loud
trumpet
calls
them
forth
to
battle
.
"
Gird
on
mine
armour
,
"
said
the
rising
youth
,
"
I
am
the
son
of
Corvan
!
"