The Poetical Works of Reginald Heber (Paperback)

This historic book may have numerous typos, missing text or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1841. Not illustrated. Excerpt: ... CANTO III. When I rehearse each gorgeous festival, And knightly pomp of Arthur's elder day, And muse upon these Celtic glories all, Which, save some remnant of the minstrel's lay, Are melted in oblivious stream away, (So deadly bit the Saxon blade and sore) Perforce I rue such perilous decay, And, reckless of my race, almost deplore That ever northern keel deflower'd the Logrian shore. Oh thou the ancient genius of the land, Who wont on old Belusium's sunny steep, And nigh the holy mount, with armed hand, In vision dimly seen, thy watch to keep, Our angel guard, whose eagle pinions sweep In circling flight around his rock-built nest, Now soaring high, now dark'ning half the deep, The broad wave bursting with his shadowy breast, Oh did not his lament foreshow the nearer pest? Say, did not he when Hengist plough'd the main, With gathering mist the conqueror's track dismay, And smite his radiant brows in parent pain And sadly rend his samphire wreath away? No, brighter beam'd his prescient eye that day, And as the proud bark swept the waters free, He bade the rustling waves around it play. While softly stole across the sunny sea, From many a twisted shell the mermaid's harmony. Now forty times the golden-haired dawn Had sprung from old Tithonus' dewy bed, And forty times across the fading lawn, Had summer eve her filmy mantle spread, Since young Ganore to Mary's aisle was led A pensive bride; and yet, I wot not why, But those who best could read her blushes said, Not now so much she droop'd the timid eye, Nor paid her Arthur's warmth with so cold courtesy. She was his wife for this she strove to bear Of that portentous eye the tawny glow; And those deep indents of ambitious care That mapp'd his dark and melancholy brow; She was belov'd; for well the fair might kno...