« AnteriorContinuar »
seyde that he was a fool to desire that he seyne, the feld florisched; for als moche a myghte not have; for sche seyde that he a fayre mayden was blamed with wrong scholde not aske but erthely thing, for sche and sclaundered, that sche hadde don forwas non erthely thing, but a gostly thing; nycacioun, for whiche cause sche was demed and the kyng seyde that he ne wolde asken to the dethe, and to be brent in that place, non other thing. And the lady answerd, to the whiche sche was ladd. And as the • Sythe that I may not withdrawe zou fro fyre began to brenne aboute hire,sche made zoure lewed corage, I schal zeve zou with hire preyeres to oure Lord, that als wissely outen wysschinge, and to alle hem that as sche was not gylty of that synne, that he schulle com of zou. Sire kyng, zee schulle wold helpe hire, and make it to be knowen have werre, withouten pees, and alleweys to alle men, of his mercyfulle grace; and to the 9th degree zee schulle ben in subjec- whanne sche hadde thus seyd, sche entred cioun of zoure enemyes, and zee schulle ben into the fuyer, and anon was the fuyr nedy of alle godes. And never sithen, quenched and oute ; and the brondes that nouther the Kyng of Ermonye, ne the weren brennynge, becomen white roseres, contree weren never in pees, ne ther had fulle of roses ; and theise weren the first den never sithen plentee of godes; and thei roseres and roses, bothe white and rede, han ben sithen alleweyes undre tribute of that ever ony man saughe. And thus was the Sarrazines. Also the sone of a pore | this maiden saved be the grace of God.”— man woke that hauke and wisshed that he Ibid. myght cheve (chevirl) wel, and to ben happy to marchandise. And the lady graunted hym; and he became the most riche and
LADY GRANGE.3 the most famouse marchant that myghte ben on see or oner the; and he becam so “The true story of this lady, which hapriche, that he knew not the 1000 part of pened in this century, is as frightfully rothat he hadde; and he was wysere in wiss- mantic as if it had been the fiction of a chynge than was the Kyng. Also a knyght gloomy fancy. She was the wife of one of of the temple wooke there, and wyssched a the lords of session in Scotland, a man of the purs everemore fulle of gold, and the lady very first blood of his country.
For some graunted him. But sche seyde him, that he mysterious reasons, which have never been had asked the destruccioun of here ordre, discovered, she was seized and carried off in for the trust and the affiance of that purs, the dark, she knew not by whom, and by and for the grete pryde, that thei scholde nightly journeys was conveyed to the Highhaven; and su it was. And therfore loke, land shores, from whence she was transporthe kepe him wel, that schalle wake; for zif ed by sea to the remote rock of St. Kilda, he slepe, he is lost, that nevere man schalle where she remained amongst its few wild inseen him more.”—Ibid. from the History of habitants, a forlorn prisoner, but had a conMelusine, by John of Arras.
stant supply of provisions, and a woman to wait on her. No inquiry was made after her,
till she at last found means to convey a letOrigin of the Rose.
ter to a confidential friend, by the daughter “Betwere the cytee and the chirche of Bethelem, is the felde Floridus, that is to
3 For this strange history, see Sir Walter Scott's note in loc. (vol. iv. p. 246, Murray's
edit.) “She had become privy to some of the 1 “Ce mot est vieux, et signifie venir à bout Jacobite intrigues in which her husband, Lord de quelque personne, ou de quelque chose, et s'en Grange (brother of the Earl of Mar, and a Lord rendre maitre.” RICHELET, in v.--J. W. W. of Session,) and his family were engaged.” · See poem, The Rose, p. 439.-J. W. W.
J. W. W.
of a catechist, who concealed it in a clue of Passions of youth, infirmities of age ? yarn. Information being thus obtained at I've read in Tully what the ancients thought, Edinburgh, a ship was sent to bring her And judged unprejudiced what moderns off; but intelligence of this being received,
taught; she was conveyed to M'Leod's island of But no conviction from my reading springs, Herries, where she died."-BOSWELL. I'm dubious in the most important things.
LANE BUCHANAN says, “It was supposed Yet one short moment will in full explain a courier was despatched over land by her What all philosophy has sought in vain ; enemies, who had arrived at St. Kilda some Will tell me what no human wisdom knows, time before the vessel. When the latter ar- Clear
each doubt, and terminate my woes. rived, to their sad disappointment, they Why, then, not hasten this decisive hour found the lady in her grave. Whether she still in my view, and even in my power ? died by the visitation of God, or the wick. Why should I drag along this life I hate edness of man, will for ever remain a se- Without one hope to mitigate the weight ? cret; as their whole address could not pre- Why this mysterious being forced to exist, vail on the minister and his wife, though When every joy is lost, and every hope brought to Edinburgh, to declare how it dismist? happened, as both were afraid of offending In chains of darkness wherefore should I the great men of that country among whom stay, they were forced to reside.
And mourn in prison, while I keep the key ?” “ A poor old woman told me," he adds, “that when she served her there, her whole time was devoted to weeping, and wrapping up letters round pieces of cork, bound up
May-day in the Highlands. with yarn, and throwing them into the sea, “ It was a custom, till of late years, to try if any favourable wave would waft among the inhabitants of whole districts in them to some Christian, to inform some hu- the north of Scotland, to extinguish all mane person where she resided, in expec- their fires on the evening of the last day of tation of carrying tidings to her friends at April. Early on the first day of May, some Edinburgh."
select persons met in a private place, and by turning with great rapidity an augre in a dry piece of wood, extracted what
they called, Tein-Egin, the forced or eleLines found in the pocket book of Mr. Wuitementary fire. Some active young men, SIDE, a Dissenting Minister of Yarmouth,
one from each hamlet in the district, atreputed mad, who destroyed himself.
tended at a distance, and as soon as the “ Witu toilsome steps I pass thro' life's forced fire was kindled, carried part of it, dull road,
with great expedition and joy, to their reNo pack-horse half so weary of his load; spective villages. The people immediately And when this dirty journey shall conclude, assembled upon some rock or eminence, To what new realms is then my way pur- lighted the Bel-tein, and spent the day in sued ?
mirth and festivity. Say-does the pure-embodied spirit fly “ The ceremonies used upon this occaTo happier climes, and to a better sky ? sion were founded upon opinions of which Or, sinking, does it mix with kindred clay, there is now no trace remaining in tradition. And sleep a whole eternity away ?
It is in vain to enquire why those ignorant Or, shall this form be once again renew'd, persons who are addicted to this superstiWith all its frailties and its hopes endued, tion, throw into the Bel-tein a portion of Acting once more on this detested stage those things upon which they regale them
selves on the first of May. Neither is Persans appellent ce Phare, Le Miroir Alexthere any reason assigned by them for andre. Ils disent que la fortune de la ville decking branches of mountain ash? with y étoit attachée, parceque c'étoit un Taliswreaths of flowers and heath, which they man.”—D'HERBELOT. carry with shouts and gestures of joy, in procession three times round the fire. These branches they afterwards deposit above the
Genova mia, &c. doors of their respective dwellings, where they remain till they give place to others in “ Genova mia, se con asciutto ciglio the succeeding year. Bel-tein is a compo- Lacero e guasto il tuo bel corpo io miro, sition of Bel, a rock, and Tein, fire. The Non e poca pieta d'ingrato figlio, first day of May is called La Bel Tein, or Ma ribello mi sembra agni sospiro. the day of the fire on the rock.
La maesta di tue ruine ammiro, “We kindle, say the ancient Scots, the Trofei della costanza, e del consiglio ; fire of the rock to welcome the sun after Ovunque io volgo il passo, o'l guard' io his travels behind the clouds and tempests giro, of the dark2 months; and it would be highly Incontro il tuo valor nel tuo periglio. indecent not to honour him with titles of Piu val d'ogni vittoria un bel soffrire; dignity when we meet him with joy on our E contro ai fieri alta vendetta fai hills." They call him then, An Lo, the day, Col vederti distrutta, e nol sentire. and Solus Neav, the light of heaven.-Mac- Anzi girar la liberta mirai,
E baciar lieta ogni ruina, e dire
Del P. PASTORINI.
Ruins of Moseley. au climat 3o. parlant d'Alexandrie où ce climat commence, dit que dans cette ville qu' Taylor, if through thy shatter'd fire-swart Alexandre fit bâtir sur le bord de la mer
hall Mediterranée, ce grand Prince fit construire
Unbowed thou wanderest, and with tearun Phare qui passe pour être une des merveilles du monde ; dont la hauteur étoit de 'Tis not that thou hast seen unmoved its fall, 180 coudées, au plus haut duquel il fit placer
But that thou feel'st it were a crime to un miroir fait par art talismanique, par le sigh. moyen duquel la ville d'Alexandrie devoit Remain it so thy trophy, until all toujours conserver sa grandeur et sa puis
Thy virtue in its danger shall descry. sance, tant que cet ouvrage merveilleux To suffer well is more than victory. subsisteroit.
From such to suffer is the patriot's call. “Quelques-uns ont écrit que les vaisseaux Soon will Desertion's ivy wreaths intrude qui arrivoient dans ce port, se voyoient de
Where Hospitality's fresh garlands lay, fort loin dans ce miroir. Quoi qu'il en soit, But long shall Freedom's awful form be il est fort célèbre parmi les orientaux. Les
Amid the mouldering monument to stray, Clou-än-Beltein, the split branch of the Transported kiss each stone, and proudly fire on the rock.
say 3 “ The Armoricans and the Gael of North Britain, called the winter, and particularly tho
Ruin may come, but never Servitude.” month of November, Mis-Du, or the black
WM. TAYLOR, Jun. month.”_LHUYD, Archæ. Brit.
E chi primo udira, scuota il vicino,
Ch' e periglio comun quel, che si tenta. Vives contento alla capanna mia
Non val, che Italia a' piedi altrui si penta, In povertade industre, in dolce stento, E obbliando il valor, pianga il destino; E perche al canto, ed al lavora intento
Troppo innamora il bel terren Latino, Qualche fama di me spander s'udia. E in disio di regnar pietate e spenta. Vivea contento alla capanna mia.
Invan con occhi molli, e guance smorte Fatto percio superbo io mi nutria
Chiedi perdon; che il suo nemico audace D'un van desio d'abbandonar l'armento: Non vuole il suo dolor, ma la sua morte.
Fui negli alti palagi, e in un momento Piaccia il soffrire a chi 'l pugnar non piace. Senza pregio restai, ne piu qual pria E stolto orgoglio in cosi debil sorte Vivea contento alla capanna mia.
Non voler guerra, e non soffrir la pace. Degli anni miei perdendo il piu bel fiore,
Carlo Maria Maggi. Il viver lieto, e la virtu perdei; L'ozio, la gola, e gli aggi ebber l'onore Degli anni miei perdendo il piu bel fiore : Scorno e dolore, i giorni tristi e rei
Images. M' occupa al fine, e dico a tutte l'ore,
Cry of the bittern, like the lowing of an Ah! s'io pover vivea, or non avrei
ox, or as William Taylor says, a cow with Scorno e dolore, i giorni tristi e rei.”
a cough, three or four times successively. FERDINANDO PASSERINI.
Sunset, seen through a grove of firs.
What is the grass called with a pink blosTranslation.
som? I DWELT contented in my little cot,
Evening sunshine on a hill field, seen Poor, but with all the peaceful comforts through and over clustered trees. blest
Glitter of the poplar in wind and sunThat industry can give; my name was shine. known
Green light of the evening sky where it As one who laboured well, and well could
last lingers. sing.
July 6. In the College Green and at Red. I dwelt contented in my little cot.
land the row of lime trees already begins So I grew vain, and cherish'd idle hopes to shed its leaves. To quit my country toil. The princely domes The afternoon was cloudy, the sky was I sought, and in a moment fonnd myself partly clear over the channel, and the clouds Unknown, unnoted there, nor now, as once, in that part, though heavy, were white and I dwelt contented in my humble cot. brilliant. The water lay below, a sheet of Destroying the fair spring-tide of my life, white glory, whose boundary was only made Virtue I lost, and lost the cheerful heart, visible by the less radiant line of shore and Sloth, and intemperance, and sorrow came, horizon. Destroying the fair spring-tide of my life. July 15. It has been a showery afternoon, Contempt and grief, and sad and guilty days, over Kingsweston the clouds lie heavy, yet Came on at last, and every hour I think, hazy, a faint yellow tinge over their base ; Ah! in my little cot I should not know their summits like distant snow in sunshine. Contempt and grief, and sad and guilty days! A heavier mass of dark cloud lies nearer,
spreading to the left, and falling in rain at
Clevedon. At its nearer verge beams the Io grido, e gridero, finche mi senta white glory of the sun, and the sky still L'Adria, il Tebro, il Tirren, l'Arno, e'l nearer is varied with the waviness of clouds Tesino,
dazzling white, and dark spots and the clear sky visible through their openings. A few of a public school and a university. The minutes since, the slant rays shot down, now old steward to relate it. the sun itself is just seen, and a haziness A woman going to see her son, lying in overspreads the heavier cloud, and the dis- a hospital after having been wounded by tance of cloud is less distinct. Now all is the French stinkpots. settled in one deepening cloud, and the dis- A ruined cottage. Its story not to be tance is melted into a faint yellow spread, told in dialogue. A mother and her daughthe sunbeams sloping down it, and this light ter once dwelling there. The girl a streetis momently diminished by the spreading walker now—the mother dying at the workcloud.
The vices of the poor should not be kept
out of sight when their miseries are exposed. Subjects for Idylls.
I think an eclogue may be made upon an From what William Taylor has told me industrious woman afflicted with a drunken of the Idylls of Gessner and Voss, and the bad husband. translation he has shown me of one by Goe- The ruined cottage has matter for a best the, I am tempted to introduce them here. poem. The path overgrown-the holyhock Surely I also can seize the fit objects of com- blooming amid weeds. It shall be related mon life, and place them in the right point to a friend whom I have purposely led there of view.
in an evening walk. She may be described A village wedding. The feelings that I as when a girl the May Queen. The idle and poor Edmund Seward' experienced in fellows standing on the bridge in the way Bedfordshire that evening; even the scenery to church would look up from the water as will excellently suit. A hamlet well em- she passed, and bid her good to-morrow. bowered in elms amid a flat country: the Something may be said on the strange want evening clear: the distant bells. The tra- of conscience in the libertine. veller and a woman, a poor married woman.
The visit from Oxford to Godstow. This I will try in hexameters.
Ballads. A ruined mansion-house, 2-rather going to ruin. An old man breaking stones on the The murderer made to touch the dead road (or some such hard labour) must be man's face. No blood follows—no miracle the other speaker, who remembered its old to criminate. He is left alone with the body. master. Or would it not be well to make The dead man then lifts up his head, and this like the fine old house at Stowey, being looks at him. They find him mad when modernised by a young heir—the yew trees they return. cut down—the casement windows altered There dwells a maniac in a castle, its lord. -the porch and its jessamine destroyed ? | One female dwells with him, young and and old hospitality, and old fashions, and beautiful. Her he had married ; another old benevolence, all gone together ? he had seduced. On his wedding day, a ra
The funeral of a young man, the last of ven, by his repeated flights about the hall his family. A fine young man, the victim window, disturbed the guests. They go to
lines to his memory,
Southey's early friend. See the beautiful * See “ The Sailor's Mother,” p.
“ The Dead Friend.” “ It was no ball, Sir, but some cursed thing Poems, in one volume, p. 131. For the “ Wed. Which bursts and burns, that hurt him. Someding,” see English Eclngues, p. 158.-J. W.W.
thing, Sir, - See English Eclogues,
“ The Old Mansion They do not use on board our House," p. 149.
It is so wicked."
5 Ibid. p. 156.