HENGIST AND MEY: A BALLAD. William Julius Mickle Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T116245 1136 K093079.003 Pearch, G. A collection of poems in four volumes. By several hands. Vol. III. [The second edition]. London printed for G. Pearch 1770 pp. 11-18. 4v. ; 8⁰.

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HENGIST AND MEY : A BALLAD . BY THE AUTHOR OF THE CONCUBINE . Haec novimus esse nihil . IN antient days , when Arthur reign'd , Sir Elmer had no peer ! And no young knight in all the land The ladies lov'd so dear . His sister Mey , the fairest maid Of all the virgin train , Won every heart at Arthur's court , But all their love was vain . In vain they lov'd , in vain they vow'd , Her heart they could not move : Yet at the evening hour of prayer Her mind was lost in love . The Abbess saw , the Abbess knew , And urg'd her to explain ; " O name the gentle youth to me , " And his consent I'll gain . " Long urg'd , long vext , fair Mey reply'd , " His name how can I say ? " An angel from the fields above " Has rapt my heart away . " But once , alas , and never more , " His lovely form I spied , " One evening by the sounding shore , " All by the greenwood side : " His eyes to mine the love confest , " That glow'd with mildest grace : " His courtly mien and purple vest " Bespoke his princely race . " But when he heard my brother's horn " Fast to his ships he fled : " Yet while I sleep his graceful form " Still hovers round my bed . " Sometimes all clad in armour bright , " He shakes a warlike lance ; " And now in courtly garments dight , " He leads the sprightly dance , " His hair is black as raven's wing , " His skin as Christmas snow , " His cheeks outvie the blush of morn , " His lips like rose-buds glow . " His limbs , his arms , his stature , shap'd " By Nature's finest hand ; " His sparkling eyes declare him born " To love and to command . " The live-long year fair Mey bemoan'd Her hopeless pining love : But when the balmy Spring return'd , And Summer cloath'd the grove ; All round by pleasant Humber side The Saxon banners flew , And to Sir Elmer's castle gates The spear-men came in view . Fair blush'd the morn when Mey look'd o'er The castle-wall so sheen ; And , lo , the warlike Saxon youth Were sporting on the green . There Hengist , Offa's eldest son , Lean'd on his burnish'd lance , And all the armed youth around Obey'd his manly glance . His locks as black as raven's wing Adown his shoulders flow'd , His cheeks outvied the blush of morn , His lips like rose-buds glow'd , And soon the lovely form of Mey Has caught his piercing eyes : He gives the sign , his bands retire , While big with love he sighs , " Oh thou , for whom I dar'd the seas , " And come with peace or war ; " Oh , by that cross that veils thy breast , " Relieve thy Lover's care ! " For thee I'll quit my father's throne , " With thee the wilds explore ; " Or with thee share the British crown , " With thee the Cross adore . " Beneath the timorous virgin blush , With love's soft warmth she glows : So blushing thro' the dews of morn Appears the opening rose . 'Twas now the hour of morning prayer , When men their sins bewail , That Elmer heard king Arthur's horn Shrill sounding thro' the dale . The pearly tears from Mey's bright eyes Like April dew drops fell , When with a parting dear embrace Her brother bade farewell . The cross with sparkling diamonds bright That veil'd her snowy breast , With prayers to heaven , her lily hands Have fixt on Elmer's vest . Now with five-hundred bow-men true He's march'd across the plain , Till with his gallant yeomandrie He join'd king Arthur's train . Full forty thousand Saxon spears Came glittering down the hill , And with their shouts and clang of arms The distant valleys fill . Old Offa , drest in Odin's garb , Assum'd the hoary god ; And Hengist , like the warlike Thor , Before the horsemen rode . With dreadful rage the combat burns , The captains shout amain ; And Elmer's tall victorious spear Far glances o'er the plain . To stop its course young Hengist flew Like lightning o'er the field ; And soon his eyes the well-known cross On Elmer's vest beheld . The slighted lover swell'd his breast , His eyes shot living fire , And all his martial heat before To this was mild desire . On his imagin'd rival's steed With furious force he prest , And glancing to the sun , his sword Resounds on Elmer's crest . The foe gave way , the princely youth With heedless rage pursu'd , Till trembling in his cloven helm Sir Elmer's javelin stood . He bow'd his head , slow dropt his spear , The reins slipt through his hand , And stain'd with blood , his stately corse Lay breathless on the strand . " O bear me off , " Sir Elmer cried , " Before my painful sight " The combat swims — Yet Hengist's vest " I claim as victor's right . " Brave Hengist's fall the Saxons saw , And all in terror fled . The bow-men to his castle gates The bold Sir Elmer led . " Oh wash my wounds , my sister dear , " O pull this Saxon dart , " That whizzing from young Hengist's arm " Has almost pierc'd my heart . " Yet in my hall his vest shall hang , " And Britons yet unborn " Shall with the trophies of to-day " Their solemn feasts adorn . All-trembling Mey beheld the vest ; " Oh , Merlin , " loud she cried , " Thy words are true — my slaughter'd Love " Shall have a breathless bride ! " Oh , Elmer , Elmer , boast no more " That low my Hengist lies ! " O , Hengist , cruel was thine arm ; " My brother bleeds and dies ! " She spake — the roses left her cheek , And Life's warm spirits fled : So nipt by Winter's lingering blasts , The Snowdrop bows the head . Yet parting life one struggle gave , She lifts her languid eyes ; " Return , my Hengist , oh return , " My slaughter'd love ! " she cries . " Oh — still he lives — he smiles again , " With all his grace he moves : " I come — I come , where bow nor spear " Shall more disturb our loves . " — She spake — she died . The Saxon dart Was drawn from Elmer's side ; And thrice he call'd his sister Mey , And thrice he groan'd , and died . Where in the dale a moss-grown cross O'ershades an aged thorn , Sir Elmer's and young Hengist's corse Were by the spearmen borne . And there all clad in robes of white , With many a sigh and tear , The village maids to Hengist's grave Did Mey's fair body bear . And there at dawn and fall of day , All from the neighbouring groves , The Turtles wail in widow'd notes , And sing their hapless loves .