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Forward lies faith and knightly fame;
Behind are perjury and shame.
In life or death I hold my word!'
With that he drew his trusty sword,
Caught down a banner from the wall,
And entered thus the fearful hall.

XXIII.

On high each wayward maiden threw
Her swarthy arm with wild halloo !
On either side a tiger sprung -
Against the leftward foe he flung
The ready banner to engage
With tangling folds the brutal rage;
The right-hand monster in mid air
He struck so fiercely and so fair
Through gullet and through spinal bone
The trenchant blade hath sheerly gone.
His grisly brethren ramped and yelled,
But the slight leash their rage withheld,
Whilst 'twixt their ranks the dangerous road
Firmly though swift the champion strode.
Safe to the gallery's bound he drew,
Safe passed an open portal through;
And when against pursuit he flung
The gate, judge if the echoes rung!
Onward his daring course he bore,
While, mixed with dying growl and roar,
Wild jubilee and loud hurra

Pursued him on his venturous way.

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As if the wealth of all the world
Were there in rich confusion hurled.
For here the gold in sandy heaps
With duller earth incorporate sleeps;
Was there in ingots piled, and there
Coined badge of empery it bare;
Yonder, huge bars of silver lay,
Dimmed by the diamond's neighboring ray,
Like the pale moon in morning day;
And in the midst four maidens stand,
The daughters of some distant land.
Their hue was of the dark-red dye
That fringes oft a thunder sky;
Their hands palmetto baskets bare,
And cotton fillets bound their hair;
Slim was their form, their mien was shy,
To earth they bent the humbled eye,
Folded their arms, and suppliant kneeled,
And thus their proffered gifts revealed.

XXVI.

CHORUS.

'See the treasures Merlin piled,
Portion meet for Arthur's child.
Bathe in Wealth's unbounded stream,
Wealth that Avarice ne'er could dream!'

FIRST MAIDEN.

'See these clots of virgin gold! Severed from the sparry mould, Nature's mystic alchemy

In the mine thus bade them lie; And their orient smile can win Kings to stoop and saints to sin.'

SECOND MAIDEN.

'See these pearls that long have slept;
These were tears by Naiads wept
For the loss of Marinel.
Tritons in the silver shell

Treasured them till hard and white
As the teeth of Amphitrite.'

THIRD MAIDEN.

'Does a livelier hue delight?
Here are rubies blazing bright,
Here the emerald's fairy green,
And the topaz glows between;
Here their varied hues unite
In the changeful chrysolite.'

FOURTH MAIDEN.

'Leave these gems of poorer shine,
Leave them all and look on mine!
While their glories I expand
Shade thine eyebrows with thy hand.
Mid-day sun and diamond's blaze
Blind the rash beholder's gaze.'

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Relaxing, when the ear receives
The music that the greenwood leaves
Make to the breezes' sigh.

XXX.

And oft in such a dreamy mood
The half-shut eye can frame
Fair apparitions in the wood,
As if the Nymphs of field and flood
In
gay procession came.

Are these of such fantastic mould,

Seen distant down the fair arcade, These maids enlinked in sister-fold,

Who, late at bashful distance staid, Now tripping from the greenwood shade, Nearer the musing champion draw, And in a pause of seeming awe

Again stand doubtful now?

Ah, that sly pause of witching powers!
That seems to say, 'To please be ours,
Be yours to tell us how.'

Their hue was of the golden glow
That suns of Candahar bestow,
O'er which in slight suffusion flows
A frequent tinge of paly rose;

Their limbs were fashioned fair and free
In nature's justest symmetry;
And, wreathed with flowers, with odors
graced,

Their raven ringlets reached the waist:
In eastern pomp its gilding pale
The henna lent each shapely nail,
And the dark sumah gave the eye
More liquid and more lustrous dye.
The spotless veil of misty lawn,
In studied disarrangement drawn
The form and bosom o'er,
To win the eye or tempt the touch,
For modesty showed all too much

Too much - yet promised more.

XXXI.

'Gentle knight, awhile delay,'
Thus they sung, 'thy toilsome way,
While we pay the duty due
To our Master and to you.
Over Avarice, over Fear,
Love triumphant led thee here;
Warrior, list to us, for we

Are slaves to Love, are friends to thee.
Though no treasured gems have we
To proffer on the bended knee,
Though we boast nor arm nor heart
For the assagay or dart,
Swains allow each simple girl
Ruby lip and teeth of pearl;
Or, if dangers more you prize,
Flatterers find them in our eyes.

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Stay, O, stay!-in yonder bowers
We will braid thy locks with flowers,
Spread the feast and fill the wine,
Charm thy ear with sounds divine,
Weave our dances till delight
Yield to languor, day to night.
Then shall she you most approve
Sing the lays that best you love,
Soft thy mossy couch shall spread,
Watch thy pillow, prop thy head,
Till the weary night be o'er-
Gentle warrior, wouldst thou more.
Wouldst thou more, fair warrior,
Is slave to Love and slave to thee.'

XXXII.

O, do not hold it for a crime In the bold hero of my rhyme, For Stoic look

And meet rebuke

she

He lacked the heart or time;
As round the band of sirens trip,
He kissed one damsel's laughing lip,
And pressed another's proffered hand,
Spoke to them all in accents bland,
But broke their magic circle through;
'Kind maids,' he said, 'adieu, adieu!
My fate, my fortune, forward lies.'
He said and vanished from their eyes;
But, as he dared that darksome way,
Still heard behind their lovely lay:
'Fair Flower of Courtesy, depart !
Go where the feelings of the heart
With the warm pulse in concord move;
Go where Virtue sanctions Love!'

XXXIII.

Downward De Vaux through darksome ways

And ruined vaults has gone,
Till issue from their wildered maze
Or safe retreat seemed none,
And e'en the dismal path he strays
Grew worse as he went on.

For cheerful sun, for living air,
Foul vapors rise and mine-fires glare,
Whose fearful light the dangers showed
That dogged him on that dreadful road.
Deep pits and lakes of waters dun
They showed, but showed not how to shun.
These scenes of desolate despair,
These smothering clouds of poisoned air,
How gladly had De Vaux exchanged,
Though 't were to face yon tigers ranged!
Nay, soothful bards have said,
So perilous his state seemed now
He wished him under arbor bough
With Asia's willing maid.
When, joyful sound! at distance near
A trumpet flourished loud and clear,

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Of Europe seemed the damsels all;
The first a nymph of lively Gaul
Whose easy step and laughing eye
Her borrowed air of awe belie;

The next a maid of Spain,
Dark-eyed, dark-haired, sedate yet bold;
White ivory skin and tress of gold
Her shy and bashful comrade told
For daughter of Almaine.
These maidens bore a royal robe,
With crown, with sceptre, and with globe,
Emblems of empery;

The fourth a space behind them stood,
And leant upon a harp in mood

Of minstrel ecstasy.
Of merry England she, in dress
Like ancient British Druidess,
Her hair an azure fillet bound,

Her graceful vesture swept the ground,
And in her hand displayed

A crown did that fourth maiden hold,
But unadorned with gems and gold,
Of glossy laurel made.

XXXVI.

At once to brave De Vaux knelt down
These foremost maidens three,
And proffered sceptre, robe, and crown,

Liegedom and seignorie

O'er many a region wide and fair,
Destined, they said, for Arthur's heir;
But homage would he none: -
'Rather,' he said, 'De Vaux would ride,
A warden of the Border-side

In plate and mail than, robed in pride,
Á monarch's empire own;
Rather, far rather, would he be
A free-born knight of England free
Than sit on despot's throne.'

So passed he on, when that fourth maid,
As starting from a trance,
Upon the harp her finger laid;
Her magic touch the chords obeyed,
Their soul awaked at once!

Song of the Fourth Maiden. 'Quake to your foundations deep, Stately towers, and bannered keep, Bid your vaulted echoes moan, As the dreaded step they own. 'Fiends, that wait on Merlin's spell, Hear the foot-fall! mark it well! Spread your dusky wings abroad, Boune ye for your homeward road! 'It is His, the first who e'er Dared the dismal Hall of Fear; HIS, who hath the snares defied Spread by Pleasure, Wealth, and Pride. 'Quake to your foundations deep, Bastion huge, and turret steep! Tremble, keep! and totter, tower! This is Gyneth's waking hour.'

XXXVII.

Thus while she sung the venturous knight
Has reached a bower where milder light
Through crimson curtains fell;
Such softened shade the hill receives,
Her purple veil when twilight leaves
Upon its western swell.

That bower, the gazer to bewitch,
Had wondrous store of rare and rich
As e'er was seen with eye;
For there by magic skill, I wis,
Form of each thing that living is

Was limned in proper dye.
All seemed to sleep the timid hare
On form, the stag upon his lair,
The eagle in her eyrie fair

Between the earth and sky.
But what of pictured rich and rare
Could win De Vaux's eye-glance, where.
Deep slumbering in the fatal chair,

He saw King Arthur's child! Doubt and anger and dismay From her brow had passed away,

Forgot was that fell tourney-day,
For as she slept she smiled:
It seemed that the repentant Seer
Her sleep of many a hundred year
With gentle dreams beguiled.

XXXVIII.

That form of maiden loveliness,
'Twixt childhood and 'twixt youth,
That ivory chair, that sylvan dress,
The arms and ankles bare, express
Of Lyulph's tale the truth.
Still upon her garment's hem
Vanoc's blood made purple gem,
And the warder of command
Cumbered still her sleeping hand;
Still her dark locks dishevelled flow
From net of pearl o'er breast of snow;
And so fair the slumberer seems
That De Vaux impeached his dreams,
Vapid all and void of might,
Hiding half her charms from sight.
Motionless awhile he stands,

Folds his arms and clasps his hands,
Trembling in his fitful joy,
Doubtful how he should destroy
Long-enduring spell;
Doubtful too, when slowly rise
Dark-fringed lids of Gyneth's eyes,
What these eyes shall tell. -

'Saint George! Saint Mary! can it be That they will kindly look on me!'

XXXIX.

Gently, lo! the warrior kneels,
Soft that lovely hand he steals,
Soft to kiss and soft to clasp -
But the warder leaves her grasp;
Lightning flashes, rolls the thunder!
Gyneth startles from her sleep,
Totters tower, and trembles keep,

Burst the castle-walls asunder!
Fierce and frequent were the shocks,
Melt the magic halls away;
But beneath their mystic rocks,
In the arms of bold De Vaux

Safe the princess lay;

Safe and free from magic power,
Blushing like the rose's flower

Opening to the day;

And round the champion's brows were

bound

The crown that Druidess had wound

Of the green laurel-bay.

And this was what remained of all
The wealth of each enchanted hall,

The Garland and the Dame:

But where should warrior seek the meed Due to high worth for daring deed Except from LOVE and FAME!

The Bridal of Triermain.

CONCLUSION.

I.

My Lucy, when the maid is won
The minstrel's task, thou know'st, is done;
And to require of bard

That to his dregs the tale should run
Were ordinance too hard.

Our lovers, briefly be it said,
Wedded as lovers wont to wed,

When tale or play is o'er;

Lived long and blest, loved fond and true,
And saw a numerous race renew

The honors that they bore.
Know too that when a pilgrim strays
In morning mist or evening maze
Along the mountain lone,
That fairy fortress often mocks
His

gaze upon the castled rocks
Of the valley of Saint John;
But never man since brave De Vaux
The charmed portal won.

"T is now a vain illusive show

That melts whene'er the sunbeams glow, Or the fresh breeze hath blown.

II.

But see, my love, where far below

Our lingering wheels are moving slow,
The whiles, up-gazing still,

Our menials eye our steepy way,
Marvelling perchance what whim can stay
Our steps when eve is sinking gray

On this gigantic hill.

So think the vulgar

Life and time

Ring all their joys in one dull chime

Of luxury and ease;

And O, beside these simple knaves,
How many better born are slaves

To such coarse joys as these,
Dead to the nobler sense that glows
When nature's grander scenes unclose!
But, Lucy, we will love them yet,

The mountain's misty coronet,

The greenwood and the wold;

And love the more that of their maze
Adventure high of other days

By ancient bards is told,
Bringing perchance, like my poor tale,
Some moral truth in fiction's veil:
Nor love them less that o'er the hill
The evening breeze as now comes chill;
My love shall wrap her warm,
And, fearless of the slippery way
While safe she trips the heathy brae,
Shall hang on Arthur's arm.

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