English Narrative Poems Part 5

No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him; 10 But he lay like a warrior taking his rest With his martial cloak around him.

Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow; But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead, 15 And we bitterly thought of the morrow.

We thought as we hollowed his narrow bed, And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow! 20

Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him,-- But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him.

But half of our weary task was done 25 When the clock struck the hour for retiring; And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing.

Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory; 30 We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone-- But we left him alone with his glory.

LORD BYRON

THE PRISONER OF CHILLON

A FABLE

I

My hair is gray, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears.[107]

My limbs are bowed, though not with toil, 5 But rusted with a vile repose, For they have been a dungeon's spoil, And mine has been the fate of those To whom the goodly earth and air Are banned, and barred--forbidden fare; 10 But this was for my father's faith I suffered chains and courted death; That father perished at the stake For tenets he would not forsake; And for the same his lineal race 15 In darkness found a dwelling-place; We were seven--who now are one, Six in youth, and one in age, Finished as they had begun, Proud of Persecution's rage; 20 One in fire, and two in field, Their belief with blood have sealed[108]: Dying as their father died, For the G.o.d their foes denied;-- Three were in a dungeon cast, 25 Of whom this wreck is left the last.

II

There are seven[109] pillars of Gothic mould In Chillon's dungeons deep and old, There are seven columns ma.s.sy and gray, Dim with a dull imprisoned ray, 30 A sunbeam which hath lost its way, And through the crevice and the cleft Of the thick wall is fallen and left: Creeping o'er the floor so damp, Like a marsh's meteor lamp[110]: 35 And in each pillar there is a ring, And in each ring there is a chain; That iron is a cankering[111] thing, For in these limbs its teeth remain, With marks that will not wear away 40 Till I have done with this new day, Which now is painful to these eyes, Which have not seen the sun so rise For years--I cannot count them o'er, I lost their long and heavy score 45 When my last brother drooped and died, And I lay living by his side.

III

They chained us each to a column stone, And we were three--yet, each alone; We could not move a single pace, 50 We could not see each other's face, But with that pale and livid light That made us strangers in our sight: And thus together--yet apart, Fettered in hand, but joined in heart; 55 'Twas still some solace, in the dearth Of the pure elements[112] of earth, To hearken to each other's speech, And each turn comforter to each With some new hope or legend old, 60 Or song heroically bold; But even these at length grew cold.

Our voices took a dreary tone, An echo of the dungeon stone, A grating sound--not full and free 65 As they of yore were wont to be; It might be fancy--but to me They never sounded like our own.

IV

I was the eldest of the three, And to uphold and cheer the rest 70 I ought to do--and did my best-- And each did well in his degree.

The youngest, whom my father loved, Because our mother's brow was given To him--with eyes as blue as heaven, 75 For him my soul was sorely moved: And truly might it be distressed To see such bird in such a nest; For he was beautiful as day-- (When day was beautiful to me 80 As to young eagles being free)-- A polar day,[113] which will not see A sunset till its summer's gone, Its sleepless summer of long light, The snow-clad offspring of the sun: 85 And thus he was as pure and bright, And in his natural spirit gay, With tears for naught but others' ills, And then they flowed like mountain rills, Unless he could a.s.suage the woe 90 Which he abhorred to view below.

V

The other was as pure of mind, But formed to combat with his kind; Strong in his frame, and of a mood Which 'gainst the world in war had stood, 95 And perished in the foremost rank With joy:--but not in chains to pine: His spirit withered with their clank, I saw it silently decline-- And so perchance in sooth[114] did mine: 100 But yet I forced it on to cheer Those relics of a home so dear.

He was a hunter of the hills, Had followed there the deer and wolf; To him this dungeon was a gulf, 105 And fettered feet the worst of ills.

VI

Lake Leman[115] lies by Chillon's walls, A thousand feet in depth below Its ma.s.sy waters meet and flow; Thus much the fathom-line was sent 110 From Chillon's snow-white battlement, Which round about the wave inthrals: A double dungeon wall and wave Have made--and like a living grave.

Below the surface of the lake 115 The dark vault lies wherein we lay, We heard it ripple night and day; Sounding o'er our heads it knocked And I have felt the winter's spray Wash through the bars when winds were high 120 And wanton in the happy sky; And then the very rock hath rocked, And I have felt it shake, unshocked, Because I could have smiled to see The death that would have set me free. 125

VII

I said my nearer brother pined, I said his mighty heart declined, He loathed and put away his food; It was not that 'twas coa.r.s.e and rude, For we were used to hunter's fare, 130 And for the like had little care: The milk drawn from the mountain goat Was changed for water from the moat,[116]

Our bread was such as captive's tears Have moistened many a thousand years, 135 Since man first pent his fellow-men Like brutes within an iron den; But what were these to us or him?

These wasted not his heart or limb; My brother's soul was of that mould 140 Which in a palace had grown cold, Had his free breathing been denied The range of the steep mountain's side; But why delay the truth?--he died.

I saw, and could not hold his head, 145 Nor reach his dying hand--nor dead,-- Though hard I strove, but strove in vain, To rend and gnash my bonds in twain.

He died, and they unlocked his chain, And scooped for him a shallow grave 150 Even from the cold earth of our cave.

I begged them, as a boon, to lay His corse in dust whereon the day Might s.h.i.+ne--it was a foolish thought, But then within my brain it wrought, 155 That even in death his freeborn breast In such a dungeon could not rest.

I might have spared my idle prayer-- They coldly laughed--and laid him there: The flat and turfless earth above 160 The being we so much did love; His empty chain above it leant, Such murder's fitting monument!

VIII

But he, the favourite and the flower, Most cherished since his natal hour, 165 His mother's image in fair face, The infant love of all his race, His martyred father's dearest thought, My latest care, for whom I sought To h.o.a.rd my life, that his might be 170 Less wretched now, and one day free; He, too, who yet had held untired A spirit natural or inspired-- He, too, was struck, and day by day Was withered on the stalk away. 175 Oh, G.o.d! it is a fearful thing To see the human soul take wing In any shape, in any mood:-- I've seen it rus.h.i.+ng forth in blood,[117]

I've seen it on the breaking ocean 180 Strive with a swoln convulsive motion, I've seen the sick and ghastly bed Of Sin delirious with its dread: But these were horrors--this was woe Unmixed with such--but sure and slow; 185 He faded, and so calm and meek, So softly worn, so sweetly weak, So tearless, yet so tender--kind, And grieved for those he left behind; With all the while a cheek whose bloom 190 Was as a mockery of the tomb, Whose tints as gently sunk away As a departing rainbow's ray-- An eye of most transparent light, That almost made the dungeon bright, 195 And not a word of murmur--not A groan o'er his untimely lot,-- A little talk of better days, A little hope my own to raise, For I was sunk in silence--lost 200 In this last loss, of all the most; And then the sighs he would suppress Of fainting nature's feebleness, More slowly drawn, grew less and less: I listened, but I could not hear-- 205 I called, for I was wild with fear; I knew 'twas hopeless, but my dread Would not be thus admonished; I called, and thought I heard a sound-- I burst my chain with one strong bound, 210 And rushed to him:--I found him not, _I_ only stirred in this black spot, _I_ only lived--_I_ only drew The accursed breath of dungeon-dew; The last--the sole--the dearest link 215 Between me and the eternal brink, Which bound me to my failing race, Was broken in this fatal place.

One on the earth, and one beneath-- My brothers--both had ceased to breathe; 220 I took that hand which lay so still, Alas! my own was full as chill; I had not strength to stir, or strive, But felt that I was still alive-- A frantic feeling, when we know 225 That what we love shall ne'er be so.

I know not why I could not die, I had no earthly hope--but faith, And that forbade a selfish death.[118] 230

IX

What next befell me then and there I know not well--I never knew-- First came the loss of light, and air, And then of darkness too: I had no thought, no feeling--none-- 235 Among the stones I stood a stone, And was, scarce conscious what I wist,[119]

As shrubless crags within the mist; For all was blank, and bleak, and gray, It was not night--it was not day, 240 It was not even the dungeon-light, So hateful to my heavy sight, But vacancy absorbing s.p.a.ce, And fixedness--without a place; There were no stars--no earth--no time-- 245 No check--no change--no good--no crime-- But silence, and a stirless breath Which neither was of life nor death; A sea of stagnant idleness, Blind, boundless, mute, and motionless! 250

X

A light broke in upon my brain,-- It was the carol of a bird; It ceased, and then it came again, The sweetest song ear ever heard, And mine was thankful till my eyes 255 Ran over with the glad surprise, And they that moment could not see I was the mate of misery; But then by dull degrees came back My senses to their wonted track, 260 I saw the dungeon walls and floor Close slowly round me as before, I saw the glimmer of the sun Creeping as it before had done, But through the crevice where it came 265 That bird was perched, as fond and tame, And tamer than upon the tree; A lovely bird, with azure wings, And song that said a thousand things, And seemed to say them all for me! 270 I never saw its like before, I ne'er shall see its likeness more: It seemed like me to want a mate, But was not half so desolate, And it was come to love me when 275 None lived to love me so again, And cheering from my dungeon's brink, Had brought me back to feel and think.

I know not if it late were free, Or broke its cage to perch on mine, 280 But knowing well captivity, Sweet bird! I could not wish for thine!

Or if it were, in winged guise, A visitant from Paradise; For--Heaven forgive that thought! the while 285 Which made me both to weep and smile; I sometimes deemed that it might be My brother's soul[120] come down to me; But then at last away it flew, And then 'twas mortal--well I knew, 290 For he would never thus have flown, And left me twice so doubly lone,-- Lone--as the corse within its shroud, Lone--as a solitary cloud,[121]

A single cloud on a sunny day, 295 While all the rest of heaven is clear, A frown upon the atmosphere, That hath no business to appear When skies are blue, and earth is gay.

XI

A kind of change came in my fate, 300 My keepers grew compa.s.sionate; I know not what had made them so, They were inured to sights of woe, But so it was:--my broken chain With links unfastened did remain, 305 And it was liberty to stride Along my cell from side to side, And up and down, and then athwart, And tread it over every part; And round the pillars one by one, 310 Returning where my walk begun.

Avoiding only, as I trod, My brothers' graves without a sod; For if I thought with heedless tread My step profaned their lowly bed, 315 My breath came gaspingly and thick, And my crushed heart fell blind and sick.

XII

I made a footing in the wall, It was not therefrom to escape, For I had buried one and all 320 Who loved me in a human shape; And the whole earth would henceforth be A wider prison unto me: No child--no sire--no kin had I, No partner in my misery; 325 I thought of this, and I was glad, For thought of them had made me mad; But I was curious to ascend To my barred windows, and to bend Once more, upon the mountains high, 330 The quiet of a loving eye.