Chapter III: Appendix (2)

What though the Granite would deny
All fervour to the sightless eye; 95
And touch from rising suns in vain
Solicit a Memnonian strain;[P]
Yet, in some fit of anger sharp,
The wind might force the deep-grooved harp
To utter melancholy moans 100
Not unconnected with the tones
Of soul-sick flesh and weary bones;
While grove and river notes would lend,
Less deeply sad, with these to blend!

Vain pleasures of luxurious life, 105
For ever with yourselves at strife;
Through town and country both deranged
By affectations interchanged,
And all the perishable gauds
That heaven-deserted man applauds; 110
When will your hapless patrons learn
To watch and ponder--to discern
The freshness, the everlasting youth,[32]
Of admiration sprung from truth;
From beauty infinitely growing 115
Upon a mind with love o'erflowing--
To sound the depths of every Art
That seeks its wisdom through the heart?

Thus (where the intrusive Pile, ill-graced
With baubles of theatric taste, 120
O'erlooks the torrent breathing showers
On motley bands of alien flowers
In stiff confusion set or sown,
Till Nature cannot find her own,
Or keep a remnant of the sod 125
Which Caledonian Heroes trod)
I mused; and, thirsting for redress,
Recoiled into the wilderness.

VARIANTS:

[Footnote 27: The preceding four lines were added in the edition of 1837.]

[Footnote 28: 1827.

Through all thy numberless transitions C.
Throughout thy infinite transitions C.
]

[Footnote 29: 1832.

Else surely had ... 1827.
]

[Footnote 30: 1832.

Awakened ... 1827.
]

[Footnote 31: 1837.

... such array
As less ... 1827.

And so inspired in shape display
That less ... C.
]

[Footnote 32: 1837.

... the eternal youth, 1827.
]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote L: See the _Recollections of a Tour made in Scotland_, 1803, by Dorothy Wordsworth, p. 210.--ED.]

[Footnote M: On the banks of the River Nid, near Knaresborough.--W. W. 1827.]

[Footnote N: "The cliffs overhanging the Nid have been hollowed out into numerous cavities, some of which serve as dwellings, walled in front, and some having chimneys carried out at the tops; sometimes with windows and doors let into the rock itself. The most remarkable of these is _St. Robert's Chapel_, scooped out, and inhabited (it is said) by the same St. Robert, whose cave is farther down the river. An altar has been cut out of the rock, and one or two rude figures carved within this so-called chapel. The figure of an armed man with his sword in his hand is sculptured outside, as if guarding the entrance."--Murray's _Yorkshire_, p. 240 (edition 1867).--ED.]

[Footnote O: Fountains Abbey, near Studley Royal, in Yorkshire.--ED.]

[Footnote P: The statue of Amenophis in the vicinity of Thebes--called by the Greeks the statue of Memnon--was fabled to give forth a musical strain, when touched by the first ray of sunrise.--ED.]

"FROM THE DARK CHAMBERS OF DEJECTION FREED"

Composed 1814.--Published 1815

[Composed in Edinburgh, during my Scotch tour with Mrs. Wordsworth and my sister, Miss Hutchinson, in the year 1814. Poor Gillies never rose above that course of extravagance in which he was at that time living, and which soon reduced him to poverty and all its degrading shifts, mendicity being far from the worst. I grieve whenever I think of him, for he was far from being without genius, and had a generous heart, not always to be found in men given up to profusion. He was nephew of Lord Gillies, the Scotch judge, and also of the historian of Greece. He was cousin to Miss Margaret Gillies, who painted so many portraits with success in our house.--I.F.]

Classed among the "Miscellaneous Sonnets." In 1815 the sonnet was headed _To_ ----.--ED.

From the dark chambers of dejection freed,
Spurning the unprofitable yoke of care,
Rise, GILLIES, rise:[33] the gales of youth shall bear
Thy genius forward like a wingèd steed.
Though bold Bellerophon (so Jove decreed 5
In wrath) fell headlong from the fields of air,
Yet a rich[34] guerdon waits on minds that dare,
If aught be in them of immortal seed,
And reason govern that audacious flight
Which heaven-ward they direct.--Then droop not thou,
Erroneously renewing a sad vow 11
In the low dell 'mid Roslin's faded grove:[35]
A cheerful life is what the Muses love,
A soaring spirit is their prime delight.

I am indebted to Miss Margaret Gillies--the artist referred to in the Fenwick note--for information in reference to her cousin, the subject of this sonnet. Robert Pearce Gillies was a man of unquestionable talent, but eccentric and extravagant. He inherited a considerable fortune, some £1500 a year, from his father, which he lost. He was editor of the _Foreign Quarterly Review_, was very intimate with De Quincey, and knew Sir Walter Scott, Wordsworth, and Quillinan well. He translated several German poems and novels, of which Scott thought highly. He was the author of _Memoirs of a Literary Veteran_ (1851), in which (vol. ii. pp. 137-173) there is a sketch of Wordsworth, and several letters from him. He was also an accomplished musician, playing the violin admirably. He lived near Hawthornden.

The expression "faded" or "fading grove," which Wordsworth applies to Roslin, may refer merely to the season of the year, viz. September.--ED.

A sonnet written by Gillies, and addressed to Wordsworth, may be quoted in this note. It was transcribed by Mrs. Wordsworth into a copy of the 4to edition of _The Excursion_ (1814), which was presented by the Poet to his grandson.

TO THE AUTHOR OF _THE EXCURSION_

Though feebly in my harassed mind the light
Of fancy burn, yet thy inspiring strain
WORDSWORTH! has power to lull the sense of pain,
And bring long lost illusions to my sight.
Methinks the autumnal fields,--the mist-wreaths white,--
The woods,--the distant waters of the main
Their wonted hues of wild enchantment gain,
And, for a space, my cares are put to flight.
Then, how much more shall this immortal Lay
For the "_free Soul_" celestial sweets disclose!--
But, thine it is, oh Bard! with magic sway
To charm each meaner passion to repose;--
To guide the faltering pilgrim on his way,
And energise the weak, and soothe the mourner's woes.

R. P. GILLIES.

VARIANTS:

[Footnote 33: 1820.

Rise, *** rise: ... 1815.
]

[Footnote 34: 1827.

... high ... 1815.
]

[Footnote 35: 1827.

... fading grove: 1815.
]

IV

YARROW VISITED

SEPTEMBER, 1814

Composed 1814.--Published 1815

[As mentioned in my verses on the death of the Ettrick Shepherd, my first visit to Yarrow was in his company. We had lodged the night before at Traquair, where Hogg had joined us, and also Dr. Anderson, the Editor of the _British Poets_, who was on a visit at the Manse. Dr. A. walked with us till we came in view of the Vale of Yarrow, and, being advanced in life, he then turned back. The old man was passionately fond of poetry, though with not much of a discriminating judgment, as the Volumes he edited sufficiently shew. But I was much pleased to meet with him, and to acknowledge my obligation to his collection, which had been my brother John's companion in more than one voyage to India, and which he gave me before his departure from Grasmere, never to return. Through these Volumes I became first familiar with Chaucer, and so little money had I then to spare for books, that, in all probability, but for this same work, I should have known little of Drayton, Daniel, and other distinguished poets of the Elizabethan age, and their immediate successors, till a much later period of my life. I am glad to record this, not from any importance of its own, but, as a tribute of gratitude to this simple-hearted old man, whom I never again had the pleasure of meeting. I seldom read or think of this poem without regretting that my dear Sister was not of the party, as she would have had so much delight in recalling the time, when, travelling together in Scotland, we declined going in search of this celebrated stream, not altogether, I will frankly confess, for the reasons assigned in the poem on the occasion.--I.F.]

In 1815 and 1820 this was one of the "Poems of the Imagination." In 1827 it became one of the "Memorials of a Tour in Scotland" of 1814.

The MS. readings to this poem are taken from a copy in a letter by Dorothy Wordsworth to Mrs. Clarkson, dated November 11, 1814.--ED.

And is this--Yarrow?--_This_ the Stream
Of which my fancy cherished,
So faithfully, a waking dream?[36]
An image that hath perished!
O that some Minstrel's harp were near, 5
To utter notes[37] of gladness,
And chase this silence from the air,
That fills my heart with sadness!

Yet why?--a silvery current flows
With uncontrolled meanderings; 10
Nor have these eyes by greener hills
Been soothed, in all my wanderings.
And, through her depths,[38] Saint Mary's Lake
Is visibly delighted;
For not a feature of those hills 15
Is in the mirror slighted.

A blue sky bends o'er Yarrow vale,
Save where that pearly whiteness
Is round the rising sun diffused,
A tender hazy brightness; 20
Mild dawn of promise! that excludes
All profitless dejection;
Though not unwilling here to admit
A pensive recollection.

Where was it that the famous Flower 25
Of Yarrow Vale lay bleeding?
His bed perchance was yon smooth mound
On which the herd is feeding:
And haply from this crystal pool,
Now peaceful as the morning, 30
The Water-wraith ascended thrice--
And gave his doleful warning.

Delicious is the Lay that sings
The haunts of happy Lovers,
The path that leads them to the grove, 35
The leafy grove that covers:
And Pity sanctifies the Verse
That paints, by strength of sorrow,
The unconquerable strength of love;
Bear witness, rueful Yarrow! 40

But thou, that didst appear so fair
To fond imagination,
Dost rival in the light of day
Her delicate creation:
Meek loveliness is round thee spread, 45
A softness still and holy;
The grace of forest charms decayed,
And pastoral melancholy.

That region left, the vale unfolds
Rich groves of lofty stature, 50
With Yarrow winding through the pomp
Of cultivated nature;
And, rising from those lofty groves,
Behold a Ruin hoary!
The shattered front of Newark's Towers, 55
Renowned in Border story.[Q]

Fair scenes for childhood's opening bloom,
For sportive youth to stray in;
For manhood to enjoy his strength;
And age to wear away in! 60
Yon cottage seems a bower of bliss,
A covert for protection
Of tender thoughts, that nestle there--
The brood of chaste affection.[38a]
How sweet, on this autumnal day, 65
The wild-wood[39] fruits to gather,
And on my True-love's forehead plant
A crest of blooming heather!
And what if I enwreathed my own!
'Twere no offence to reason; 70
The sober Hills thus deck their brows
To meet the wintry season.

I see--but not by sight alone,
Loved Yarrow, have I won thee;
A ray of fancy still survives-- 75
Her sunshine plays upon thee!
Thy ever-youthful waters keep
A course of lively pleasure;
And gladsome notes my lips can breathe,
Accordant to the measure. 80

The vapours linger round the Heights,
They melt, and soon must vanish;
One hour is theirs, nor more is mine--
Sad thought, which I would banish,
But that I know, where'er I go, 85
Thy genuine image, Yarrow!
Will dwell with me--to heighten joy,
And cheer my mind in sorrow.

Compare _Yarrow Unvisited_, vol. ii. p. 411; also _Yarrow Revisited_, composed in 1831; and Principal Shairp's Essay entitled "The Three Yarrows," in his _Aspects of Poetry_. "I meant to mention _Yarrow Visited_, with that stanza, 'But thou, that didst appear so fair'; than which I think no lovelier stanza can be found in the wide world of poetry;--yet the poem, on the whole, seems condemned to leave behind it a melancholy of imperfect satisfaction, as if you had wronged the feeling with which, in what preceded it, you had resolved never to visit it, and as if the Muse had determined, in the most delicate manner, to make you, and _scarce make you_, feel it. Else, it is far superior to the other,[R] which has but one exquisite verse in it, the last but one, or the last two: this is all fine, except perhaps that _that_ of 'studious ease, and generous cares,' has a little tinge of the _less romantic_ about it." Charles Lamb to Wordsworth, in 1815. (See _The Letters of Charles Lamb_, edited by Alfred Ainger, vol. i. p. 286.)--ED.

VARIANTS:

[Footnote 36: 1815.

Of which so long I cherished,
A Fancy dear to waking thought. MS. 1814.
]

[Footnote 37: 1815.

... words ... MS. 1814.
]

[Footnote 38: 1815.

With her own depths ... MS. 1814.
]

[Footnote 38a: 1827.

It promises protection
To studious ease, and generous cares,
And every chaste affection. 1815.

To all the nestling brood of thoughts
Sustained by chaste affection! 1820.
]

[Footnote 39: 1827.

The wild wood's ... 1815.
]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote Q: Newark Castle, a "large, square, roofless, ancient castle, scene of Sir Walter Scott's _Lay of the Last Minstrel_, four miles west by north of Selkirk." (Wilson's _Gazetteer of Scotland_.)--ED.]

[Footnote R: _i.e. Yarrow Unvisited._--ED.]

LINES

WRITTEN[40] ON A BLANK LEAF IN A COPY OF THE AUTHOR'S POEM "THE
EXCURSION," UPON HEARING OF THE DEATH OF THE LATE VICAR OF KENDAL.

Composed 1814.--Published 1815

One of the "Epitaphs and Elegiac Pieces."--ED.

To public notice, with reluctance strong,
Did I deliver this unfinished Song;
Yet for one happy issue;--and I look
With self-congratulation on the Book
Which pious, learned, MURFITT saw and read;-- 5
Upon my thoughts his saintly Spirit fed;
He conned the new-born Lay with grateful heart--
Foreboding not how soon he must depart;
Unweeting that to him the joy was given
Which good men take with them from earth to heaven. 10

_The Annals of Kendal_--an octavo volume containing information on all subjects of historical or antiquarian interest connected with the town--contains no reference to Mr. Murfitt, except a copy of the inscription on his monument. He was instituted vicar of Kendal in 1806, and died on the 7th November 1814. The following is a copy of the inscription.

To the Memory of
The Reverend Matthew Murfitt, A.M.
Vicar of Kendal
And formerly Fellow of Trinity College
Cambridge,
Who died Nov. 7, 1814, aged 50 years.
He was a pious, learned, and eloquent Divine,
A sincere Friend, a kind husband
And in every relation of Life
A most worthy man.

The monument is erected against the north wall of the Parish Church of Kendal.

The phrase in the second line of the sonnet, "this unfinished Song," refers to _The Excursion_ being only part of a longer unfinished poem, _The Recluse_. (See the preface to the edition of 1814.)--ED.

VARIANT:

[Footnote 40: 1845.

Written, November 13, 1814, ... 1815.
]

1815

In 1815 few poems were written, with the exception of the _Dedication to The White Doe of Rylstone_, one or two sonnets, and _Artegal and Elidure_. If we were to trust entirely to the Fenwick note to _Laodamia_, _Artegal and Elidure_ would require to be transferred, along with it and _Dion_, to 1814. When Wordsworth, in 1845, separated the _Ode_, beginning

Imagination--ne'er before content

from the _Ode, the morning of the Day appointed for a General Thanksgiving, January 18, 1816_, he gave to the former the date 1815; and it is possible that it was composed towards the close of that year. But it was originally published in 1816 as part of the _Thanksgiving Ode_; and, although (in conformity with the plan of adopting the Author's latest view of his own text) it is printed by itself,--as finally approved by him,--it is not placed in the year 1815, but in 1816. The chief reason for this is, that it is kindred in theme, structure, and tendency with the other Odes belonging to that year; and it seems better--when there is a doubt as to the date--to bring together those poems that are kindred in character. It does not follow, however, that part of the _Thanksgiving Ode_ itself may not have been written in 1815. Wordsworth, writing to Southey in 1816, said:--"It is a poem composed, _or supposed to be composed_, on the morning of the thanksgiving." Those belonging to the year 1815 are, therefore, few in number.--ED.

DEDICATION TO THE WHITE DOE OF RYLSTONE

In trellised shed, with clustering roses gay, etc.

Although this _Dedication_ was only written in April 1815, it has, for obvious reasons, been already published--along with the poem itself--in its chronological place (1807) (see vol. iv. p. 100); but as I have seen a MS. copy of this _Dedication_, which differs considerably from the final text, and was probably the first draft of the poem, it may be printed here. In the MS. I refer to, it is called _Epistle Dedicatory_.--ED.

EPISTLE DEDICATORY

When years of wedded life were as a day
Whose current answers to the heart's desire,
Oft in some bowers, with clustering roses gay,
Or haply by the blazing winter fire,
Did we together read in Spenser's Lay 5
How Una, sad of soul, in sad attire,
The gentle Una, born of heavenly birth,
To seek her knight went wandering o'er the earth.

Ah, then, Belovèd, pleasing was the smart,
And the tear precious in compassion shed 10
For Her, who, pierced by sorrow's thrilling dart,
Did meekly bear the pang unmerited;
Meek as that Emblem of her lowly heart
The milk-white Lamb, which in a line she led,
And faithful, loyal in her innocence, 15
Like the brave Lion slain in her defence.

Notes could we hear as of a faery shell
Attuned to words with sacred wisdom fraught;
Free fancy prized each specious miracle,
And all its finer inspiration caught 20
Mid the green bower, and in our rustic Cell;
Till we by lamentable change were taught
That bliss with mortal man may not abide,
How nearly joy and sorrow are allied![S]

For us the stream of fiction ceased to flow, 25
For us the voice of melody was mute:
But as soft gales dissolve the dreary snow,
And give the timid herbage leave to shoot,
Heaven's breathing spirit failed not to bestow
Its timely influence--promising fair fruit 30
Of pensive pleasure and serene content,
From blossoms wild of fancies innocent.

It soothed us--it beguiled us--then, to hear
Once more of troubles wrought by magic spell,
And griefs whose aery motion comes not near 35
The pangs that tempt the spirit to rebel;
Then, with mild Una in her sober cheer,
High over hill and low adown the dell
Again we wandered, willing to partake
All that she suffered for her dear Lord's sake. 40

* * * * *

Then, too, this Song _of mine_ once more could please,
Where anguish, strange as dreams of restless sleep,
Is tempered and allayed by sympathies
Aloft ascending, and descending deep,
Even to the inferior Kinds; whom forest-trees 45
Protect from beating sunbeams, and the sweep
Of the sharp winds;--fair Creatures!--to whom Heaven
A calm and sinless life, with love, hath given.

* * * * *

This tragic story cheered us, for it speaks
Of female patience winning firm repose, 50
And of the high reward which conscience seeks
A bright encouraging example shows;
Needful when o'er wide realms the tempest breaks,
Needful amid life's ordinary woes;--
A tale which now, dear helpmate, I present 55
To thee and to the world with pure intent.[T]

He serves the Muses erringly and ill,
Whose aim is pleasure light and fugitive:
O, that my mind were equal to fulfil
The comprehensive mandate which they give-- 60
Vain aspiration of an earnest will!
Yet in this moral Strain a power may live,
Belovèd Wife! such solace to impart,
As it hath yielded to thy tender heart.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote S: Another version of this stanza follows:--

But like a wreath, composed of bud and bell,
Spring's flowery garland, in a whirlwind caught,
Or like the warblings of a sea-nymph's shell
When the distempered air with storms is fraught;
Those pleasures vanished from our rustic cell,
And we by lamentable change were taught
That bliss with mortal man may not abide,
How nearly joy and sorrow are allied!

ED.
]

[Footnote T: Two variations of the last couplet follow in the MS.:--

And therefore not unfitted to impress
On happier hours a holier happiness.
Hence, not for those unfitted who would bless
A happy hour with holier happiness.

ED.
]

ARTEGAL AND ELIDURE

(SEE THE CHRONICLE OF GEOFFREY OF MONMOUTH AND MILTON'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND)

Composed 1815.--Published 1820

[This was written at Rydal Mount, as a token of affectionate respect for the memory of Milton. "I have determined," says he, in his preface to his _History of England_, "to bestow the telling over even of these reputed tales, be it for nothing else but in favour of our English Poets and Rhetoricians, who by their wit will know how to use them judiciously."--I.F.]

One of the "Poems founded on the Affections."

The extract given in the Fenwick note is not from the "preface," but from the first book of Milton's _History of England_.--ED.

Where be the temples which,[41] in Britain's Isle,
For his paternal Gods, the Trojan raised?[U]
Gone like a morning dream, or like a pile
Of clouds that in cerulean ether blazed!
Ere Julius landed on her white-cliffed shore,[V] 5
They sank, delivered o'er
To fatal dissolution; and, I ween,
No vestige then was left that such had ever been.

Nathless, a British record (long concealed
In old Armorica, whose secret springs 10
No Gothic conqueror ever drank) revealed
The marvellous[42] current of forgotten things;[W]
How Brutus came, by oracles impelled,
And Albion's giants quelled,[X]
A brood whom no civility could melt, 15
"Who never tasted grace, and goodness ne'er had felt."

By brave Corineus aided, he subdued,[Y]
And rooted out the intolerable kind;
And this too-long-polluted land[43] imbued
With goodly[44] arts and usages refined; 20
Whence golden harvests, cities, warlike towers,
And pleasure's sumptuous[45] bowers;
Whence all the fixed[46] delights of house and home,
Friendships[47] that will not break, and love that cannot
roam.[Z]

O, happy Britain! region all too fair 25
For self-delighting fancy[48] to endure
That silence only should inhabit there,
Wild beasts, or uncouth savages impure!
But, intermingled with the generous seed,
Grew[49] many a poisonous weed; 30
Thus fares it still with all that takes its birth
From human care, or grows upon the breast of earth.

Hence, and how soon! that war of vengeance waged
By Guendolen against her faithless lord;[AA]
Till she, in jealous fury unassuaged 35
Had slain his paramour with ruthless sword:
Then, into Severn hideously defiled,
She flung her[50] blameless child,
Sabrina,--vowing that the stream should bear 39
That name through every age, her hatred to declare.[AB]

So speaks the Chronicle, and tells of Lear
By his ungrateful daughters turned adrift.
Ye lightnings, hear his voice!--they cannot hear,
Nor can the winds restore his simple gift.
But One there is, a Child of nature meek, 45
Who comes her Sire to seek;
And he, recovering sense, upon her breast
Leans smilingly, and sinks into a perfect rest.[AC]

There too we read of Spenser's fairy themes,
And those that Milton loved in youthful years; 50
The sage enchanter Merlin's subtle schemes;
The feats of Arthur and his knightly peers;[AD]
Of Arthur,--who, to upper light restored,
With that terrific sword[AE]
Which yet he brandishes for future war,[51] 55
Shall lift his country's fame above the polar star!

What wonder, then, if in such[52] ample field
Of old tradition, one particular flower
Doth seemingly in vain its fragrance yield,
And bloom unnoticed even to this late hour? 60
Now, gentle Muses, your assistance grant,
While I this flower transplant
Into a garden stored with Poesy;[53]
Where flowers and herbs unite, and haply some weeds be,[54]
That, wanting not wild grace, are from all mischief free![55]

A KING more worthy of respect and love 66
Than wise Gorbonian ruled not in his day;[AF]
And grateful Britain prospered far above
All neighbouring countries through his righteous sway;
He poured rewards and honours on the good; 70
The oppressor he withstood;
And while he served the Gods with reverence due,
Fields smiled, and temples rose, and towns and cities grew.

He died, whom Artegal succeeds--his son;
But how unworthy of that sire[56] was he! 75
A hopeful reign, auspiciously begun,
Was darkened soon by foul iniquity.
From crime to crime he mounted, till at length
The nobles leagued their strength
With a vexed people, and the tyrant chased; 80
And, on the vacant throne, his worthier Brother placed.

From realm to realm the humbled Exile went,
Suppliant for aid his kingdom to regain;
In many a court, and many a warrior's tent,
He urged his persevering suit in vain. 85
Him, in whose wretched heart ambition failed,
Dire poverty assailed;
And, tired with slights his pride no more could brook,
He towards his native country cast a longing look.[57]

Fair blew the wished-for wind--the voyage sped; 90
He landed; and, by many dangers scared,
"Poorly provided, poorly followèd,"
To Calaterium's forest he repaired.
How changed from him who, born to highest place,
Had swayed the royal mace, 95
Flattered and feared, despised yet deified,
In Troynovant, his seat by silver Thames's side![AG]

From that wild region where the crownless King
Lay in concealment with his scanty train,
Supporting life by water from the spring, 100
And such chance food as outlaws can obtain,
Unto the few whom he esteems his friends
A messenger he sends;
And from their secret loyalty requires
Shelter and daily bread,--the sum[58] of his desires. 105

While he the issue waits, at early morn
Wandering by stealth abroad, he chanced to hear
A startling outcry made by hound and horn,
From which the tusky wild boar flies in fear;[59]
And, scouring toward[60] him o'er the grassy plain, 110
Behold the hunter train!
He bids his little company advance
With seeming unconcern and steady countenance.

The royal Elidure, who leads the chase,
Hath checked his foaming courser:--can it be! 115
Methinks that I should recognise that face,
Though much disguised by long adversity!
He gazed rejoicing, and again he gazed,
Confounded and amazed--
"It is the king, my brother!" and, by sound 120
Of his own voice confirmed, he leaps upon the ground.

Long, strict, and tender was the embrace he gave,
Feebly returned by daunted Artegal;
Whose natural affection doubts enslave,
And apprehensions dark and criminal. 125
Loth to restrain the moving interview,
The attendant lords withdrew;
And, while they stood upon the plain apart,
Thus Elidure, by words, relieved his struggling heart.

"By heavenly Powers conducted, we have met; 130
--O Brother! to my knowledge lost so long,
But neither lost to love, nor to regret,
Nor to my wishes lost;--forgive the wrong,
(Such it may seem) if I thy crown have borne,
Thy royal mantle worn: 135
I was their natural guardian; and 'tis just
That now I should restore what hath been held in trust."

A while the astonished Artegal stood mute,
Then thus exclaimed: "To me, of titles shorn,
And stripped of power! me, feeble, destitute, 140
To me a kingdom! spare the bitter scorn:
If justice ruled the breast[61] of foreign kings,
Then, on the wide-spread wings
Of war, had I returned to claim my right;
This will I here avow, not dreading thy despite." 145

"I do not blame thee," Elidure replied;
"But, if my looks did with my words agree,
I should at once be trusted, not defied,
And thou from all disquietude be free.
May the unsullied Goddess of the chase,[62][AH] 150
Who to this blessed place
At this blest moment led me, if I speak
With insincere intent, on me her vengeance wreak!

"Were this same spear, which in my hand I grasp,
The British sceptre, here would I to thee 155
The symbol yield; and would undo this clasp,
If it confined the robe of sovereignty.
Odious to me the pomp of regal court,
And joyless sylvan sport,
While thou art roving, wretched and forlorn, 160
Thy couch the dewy earth, thy roof the forest thorn!"

Then Artegal thus spake: "I only sought,
Within this realm a place of safe retreat;
Beware of rousing an ambitious thought;
Beware of kindling hopes, for me unmeet! 165
Thou art reputed wise, but in my mind
Art pitiably blind:
Full soon this generous purpose thou may'st rue,
When that which has been done[63] no wishes can undo.

"Who, when a crown is fixed upon his head, 170
Would balance claim with claim, and right with right?
But thou--I know not how inspired, how led--
Wouldst change the course of things in all men's sight!
And this for one who cannot imitate
Thy virtue, who may hate: 175
For, if, by such strange sacrifice restored,
He reign, thou still must be his king, and sovereign lord;

"Lifted in magnanimity above
Aught that my feeble nature could perform,
Or even conceive; surpassing me in love 180
Far as in power the eagle doth the worm:
I, Brother! only should be king in name,
And govern to my shame;
A shadow in a hated land, while all
Of glad or willing service to thy share would fall." 185

"Believe it not," said Elidure; "respect
Awaits on virtuous life, and ever most
Attends on goodness with dominion decked,
Which stands the universal empire's boast;
This can thy own experience testify: 190
Nor shall thy foes deny
That, in the gracious opening of thy reign,
Our father's spirit seemed in thee to breathe again.

"And what if o'er that bright unbosoming
Clouds of disgrace and envious fortune past! 195
Have we not seen the glories of the spring
By veil of noontide darkness overcast?
The frith[64] that glittered like a warrior's shield,
The sky, the gay green field,
Are vanished; gladness ceases in the groves, 200
And trepidation strikes the blackened mountain-coves.

"But is that gloom dissolved? how passing clear
Seems the wide world, far brighter than before!
Even so thy latent worth will re-appear,
Gladdening the people's heart[65] from shore to shore; 205
For youthful faults ripe virtues shall atone;
Re-seated on thy throne,
Proof shalt thou furnish that misfortune, pain,
And sorrow, have confirmed thy native[66] right to reign.

"But, not to overlook what thou may'st know, 210
Thy enemies are neither weak nor few;
And circumspect must be our course, and slow,
Or from my purpose ruin may ensue.
Dismiss thy followers;--let them calmly wait
Such change in thy estate 215
As I already have in thought devised;
And which, with caution due, may soon be realised."

The Story tells what courses were pursued,
Until king Elidure, with full consent
Of all his peers, before the multitude, 220
Rose,--and, to consummate this just intent,
Did place upon his brother's head the crown,
Relinquished by his own;
Then to his[67] people cried, "Receive your lord,
Gorbonian's first-born son, your rightful king restored!"

The people answered with a loud acclaim: 226
Yet more;--heart-smitten by the heroic deed,
The reinstated Artegal became
Earth's noblest penitent;[68] from bondage freed
Of vice--thenceforth unable[69] to subvert 230
Or shake his high desert.
Long did he reign; and, when he died, the tear
Of universal grief bedewed his honoured bier.

Thus was a Brother by a Brother saved;[AI]
With whom a crown (temptation that hath set 235
Discord in hearts of men till they have braved
Their nearest kin with deadly purpose met)
'Gainst duty weighed, and faithful love, did seem
A thing of no esteem;
And, from this triumph of affection pure, 240
He bore the lasting name of "pious Elidure!"[AJ]

VARIANTS:

[Footnote 41: 1820

... that, ... MS.
]

[Footnote 42: 1836.

The wonderous ... 1820 and MS.
]

[Footnote 43: 1820.

... soil ... MS.
]

[Footnote 44: 1820.

... gentle ... MS.
]

[Footnote 45: 1820.

... fragrant ... MS.
]

[Footnote 46: 1820.

... mild ... MS.
]

[Footnote 47: 1820.

Friendship ... MS.
]

[Footnote 48: 1820.

For fondly favouring Nature ... MS.
]

[Footnote 49: 1820.

Lurked ... MS.
]

[Footnote 50: 1820.

She flung their ... MS.

Cast this, her ... MS.
]

[Footnote 51: 1836.

Which yet he wields in subterranean war, 1820.

Which yet he wields in subterraneous war, MS.

Which yet he graspeth, meditating war,
To lift MS.
]

[Footnote 52: 1820.

... this ... MS.
]

[Footnote 53: 1820.

Into a Garden of pure Poesy; MS.

... stocked with Poesy; MS.
]

[Footnote 54: 1820.

... some be weeds, MS.
]

[Footnote 55: 1820.

... Poesy
Which hath been tended long with all humility. MS.
]

[Footnote 56: 1836.

... of such sire ... 1820 and MS.
]

[Footnote 57: 1836.

And, tired with slights which he no more could brook,
Towards his native soil he cast a longing look.

1820 and MS.
]

[Footnote 58: 1836.

... the amount ... 1820 and MS.
]

[Footnote 59: 1845.

... tusky boar hath fled in fear; 1820 and MS.
]

[Footnote 60: 1832.

... tow'rds ... 1820 and MS.
]

[Footnote 61: 1820.

... in breasts ... MS.
]

[Footnote 62: 1827.

May spotless Dian, Goddess of the chace, 1820.
]

[Footnote 63: 1820.

When that which thou hast done ... MS.
]

[Footnote 64: 1820.

The Lake ... MS.
]

[Footnote 65: 1820.

... hearts ... MS.
]

[Footnote 66: 1820.

... inborn ... MS.
]

[Footnote 67: 1820.

... the ... MS.
]

[Footnote 68: 1820.

A thorough penitent; ... MS.
]

[Footnote 69: 1827.

Of vice,--of vice unable ... 1820.

Of vice--henceforth unable ... MS.

]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote U: Brutus, reputed great-grandson of Æneas the Trojan Prince, the legendary founder of the British race--according to the story in Geoffrey of Monmouth's Chronicle--after a somewhat chequered career in Greece, consulted Diana where he should go and settle. To whom Diana in a vision replied:--

Brutus, far to the West, in th' Ocean wide,
Beyond the realm of Gaul, a land there lies,
Sea-girt it lies, where Giants dwelt of old,
Now void, it fits thy people; thither bend
Thy course, there shalt thou find a lasting seat,
There to thy sons another Troy shall rise,
And kings be born of thee....

"Brutus guided now," says Milton (following Monmouth), "by Divine conduct, speeds him towards the West."... After some adventures in the Adriatic and in Gaul, "with an easy course, arriving at Totness, in Devonshire, quickly perceives here to be the promised end of his labours.

"The island, not yet _Britain_ but _Albion_, was in a manner desert, and inhospitable; kept only by a remnant of _Giants_; whose excessive Force and Tyrannie had consumed the rest. Them Brutus destroies, and to his people divides the Land, which with som reference to his own name, he henceforth calls Britain." (Milton's _History of England_, book i.)--ED.]

[Footnote V: Julius Caesar landed for the first time in Britain, 55 B.C.--ED.]

[Footnote W: Compare _The Solitary Reaper_, II. 18-20 (vol. ii. p. 398):--

Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago.

ED.
]

[Footnote X: See note A on the previous page.--ED.]

[Footnote Y: Corineus, according to the old legend, was the chief of a Trojan race who came with Brutus into Aquitania, and afterwards into Britain. Cornwall fell to Corineus by lot, in the portioning out of the new territory, "the rather by him liked," says Milton, "for that the hugest Giants in Rocks and Caves were said to lurk still there; which kind of Monsters to deal with was his old exercise." (Milton's _History of England_, book i.)--ED.]

[Footnote Z: Compare _To a Skylark_ (1825)--

Type of the wise who soar, but never roam;
True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home.

ED.
]

[Footnote AA: _Locrine_, Brutus' son, was engaged to marry Corineus' daughter, _Guendolen_. But, after defeating _Humber_, King of the Huns, and finding Estrildis, daughter of a German king, amongst the spoil, he took her captive. He married Guendolen, but loved Estrildis, and on the death of Corineus, he divorced Guendolen, and married Estrildis. The rest may be told in Milton's words: "Guendolen all in rage departs into Cornwal;... And gathering an army of her Father's Friends and Subjects, gives Battail to her Husband by the River _Sture_; wherein _Locrine_, shot with an arrow, ends his life. But not so ends the fury of _Guendolen_; for _Estrildis_, and her daughter _Sabra_, she throws into a River: and to leave a Monument of Revenge, proclaims that the Stream be henceforth called after the Damsel's name; which by length of time is changed now to _Sabrina_ or _Severn_." (_History of England_, book i.)--ED.]

[Footnote AB: See note [AC] on the previous page.--ED.]

[Footnote AC: "_Leir_ who next Reigned, had only three Daughters, and no Male Issue: governed laudably, and built _Caer-Leir_, now _Leicester_, on the bank of _Sora_. But at last, failing through Age, he determines to bestow his Daughters, and so among them to divide his Kingdom. Yet first to try which of them loved him best, (a Trial that might have made him, had he known as wisely how to try, as he seemed to know how much the trying behooved him) _he resolves a simple resolution, to ask them solemnly in order; and which of them should profess largest, her to beleev_. _Gonorill_ the Eldest, apprehending too well her Father's weakness, makes answer invoking Heaven, _That she loved him above her Soul_. _Therefore_, quoth the old man, overjoyed, _since thou so honourst my declined Age, to thee and the Husband whom thou shalt choose, I give the third part of my Realm_. So fair a speeding for a few words soon uttered, was to _Regan_ the second, ample instruction what to say. She on the same demand spares no protesting, and the Gods must witness that otherwise to express her thoughts she knew not, but that _she loved him above all Creatures_; and so receavs an equal reward with her Sister. But _Cordeilla_, the youngest, though hitherto best beloved, and now before her Eyes the rich and present hire of a little easie soothing, the danger also, and the loss likely to betide plain dealing, yet moves not from the solid purpose of a sincere and vertuous answer. _Father_, saith she, _my love towards you, is as my duty bids; what should a Father seek, what can a Child promise more? they who pretend beyond this, flatter_. When the old man, sorry to hear this, and wishing her to recall those words, persisted asking, with a loiall sadness at her Father's infirmity, but something on the sudden, harsh, and glancing, rather at her Sisters, then speaking her own mind, _Two waies only_, saith she, _I have to answer what you require mee; the former, Your command is, I should recant; accept then this other which is left me; look how much you have, so much is your value, and so much I love you_. _Then hear thou_, quoth _Leir_ now all in passion, _what thy ingratitude hath gained thee; because thou hast not reverenced thy aged father equall to thy Sisters, part in my Kingdom, or what else is mine reck'n to have none_. And without delay gives in marriage his other Daughters, _Gonorill_ to _Maglannus_ Duke of Albana, _Regan_ to _Henninus_ Duke of _Cornwal_; with them in present half his Kingdom; the rest to follow at his Death. In the mean while Fame was not sparing to divulge the wisdom, and other Graces of _Cordeilla_, insomuch that _Aganippus a great King in Gaul_ (however he came by his Greek name) seeks her to Wife, and nothing alter'd at the loss of her Dowry, receavs her gladly in such manner as she was sent him. After this _King Leir_, more and more drooping with years, became an easy prey to his Daughters and thir Husbands; who now by dayly encroachment had seis'd the whole Kingdom into thir hands: and the old King is put to sojorn with his Eldest Daughter, attended only by three score Knights. But they in a short while grudged at, as too numerous and disorderly for continuall guests, are reduced to thirty. Not brooking that affront, the old King betakes him to his second Daughter; but there also discord soon arising between the Servants of differing Masters in one Family, five only are suffer'd to attend him. Then back again he returns to the other; hoping that she his Eldest could not but have more pity on his Gray Hairs: but she now refuses to admitt him, unless he be content with one only of his followers. At last the remembrance of his youngest _Cordeilla_ comes to his thoughts; and now acknowledging how true her words had bin, though with little hope from whom he had so injur'd, be it but to pay her the last recompence she can have from him, his confession of her wise forewarning, that so perhaps his misery, the prooff and experiment of her Wisdom, might somthing soft'n her, he takes his Journey into _France_. Now might be seen a difference between the silent, or downright spok'n affection of som Children to thir Parents, and the talkative obsequiousness of others: while the hope of Inheritance over-acts them, and on the Tongue's end enlarges thir duty. _Cordeilla_ out of meer love, without the suspicion of expected reward, at the message only of her Father in distress, pours forth true filial tears. And not enduring either that her own, or any other Eye should see him in such forlorn condition as his Messenger declar'd, discreetly appoints one of her trusted Servants, first to convay him privately toward som good Sea Town, there to array him, bathe him, cherish him, furnish him with such Attendance and State, as beseem'd his Dignity. That then, as from his first Landing, he might send word of his Arrival to her Husband _Aganippus_. Which don with all mature and requisite contrivance, _Cordeilla_ with the King her Husband, and all the Barony of his Realm, who then first had news of his passing the Sea, goe out to meet him; and after all honourable and joyfull entertainment, _Aganippus_, as to his Wives Father, and his Royall Guest, surrenders him, during his abode there, the power, and disposal of his whole Dominion; permitting his Wife _Cordeilla_ to go with an Army, and set her Father upon his Throne. Wherein her piety so prospered, as that she vanquished her impious Sisters with those Dukes, and _Leir_ again, as saith the story, three years obtained the Crown. To whom dying, _Cordeilla_ with all regal Solemnities gave Burial in the Town of _Leicester_. And then as right Heir succeeding, and her Husband dead, rul'd the land five years in peace." (Milton, _History of England_, book i.)--ED.]

[Footnote AD: See Milton's _History of England_, book iii.--ED.]

[Footnote AE: The sword Excalibur, given to King Arthur by the Lady of the Lake. Compare Tennyson's _Morte d'Arthur_.--ED.]

[Footnote AF: The following is Milton's account of _Gorbonian_, _Archigallo_, and _Elidure_:--"_Gorbonian_ the Eldest of his five Sons, then whom a juster man liv'd not in his Age, was a great builder of Temples, and gave to all what was thir due; to his Gods devout Worship, to men of desert honour and preferment; to the Commons encouragement in thir Labours, and Trades, defence and protection from injuries and oppressions, so that the Land florish'd above her Neighbours, Violence and Wrong seldom was heard of; his Death was a general loss; he was buried in _Trinovant_.

"_Archigallo_ the second Brother followed not his Example; but depress'd the ancient Nobility, and by peeling the wealthier sort, stuff'd his Treasury, and took the right way to be depos'd.

"_Elidure_ the next Brother, surnamed the Pious, was set up in his place; a mind so noble, and so moderat, as almost is incredible to have bin ever found. For having held the Scepter five years, hunting one day in the Forest of _Calater_, he chanc'd to meet his deposed Brother, wandering in mean condition; who had bin long in vain beyond the Seas, importuning Foren aides to his Restorement: and was now in a poor Habit, with only ten followers, privatly return'd to find subsistence among his secret friends. At the unexpected sight of him, _Elidure_ himself also then but thinly accompanied, runs to him with open Arms; and after many dear and sincere welcomings, convaies him to the Citty _Alclud_; there hides him in his own Bed-Chamber. Afterwards faining himself sick, summons all his Peers as about greatest affairs; where admitting them one by one, as if his weakness endur'd not the disturbance of more at once, causes them, willing or unwilling, once more to swear Allegiance to _Archigallo_. Whom after reconciliation made on all sides, he leads to _York_: and from his own Head, places the Crown on the Head of his Brother, who thenceforth, Vice itself dissolving in him, and forgetting her firmest hold with the admiration of a deed so Heroic, became a true converted man: rul'd worthily 10 years; dy'd and was Buried in _Caer-Leir_. Thus was a Brother saved by a Brother, to whom love of a Crown, the thing that so often dazles, and vitiates mortal man, for which thousands of neerest blood have destroy'd each other, was in respect of Brotherly dearness, a contemptible thing." (Milton, _History of England_, book i.)--ED.]

[Footnote AG: The legendary story tells that Brutus, the founder of the British race, having come from Troy (see note [A] to p. 45), "in a chosen place builds _Troia nova_, changed in time to _Trinovantum_, now _London_."--ED.]

[Footnote AH: It may not be too insignificant to note that it was Diana, the "Goddess of the chase," whom Brutus, according to the legend, consulted as to where he should settle, and who directed him to the land "to the West, in th' Ocean wide." (See note U p. 45.)--ED.]

[Footnote AI: See Milton's _History of England_, quoted in footnote, p. 51.--ED.]

[Footnote AJ: The various (tentative) versions of _Artegal and Elidure_--especially of some of the stanzas--are more numerous than in the case of any other poem I have seen in MS., and several of them may be preserved.

STANZA 1

Where be the Temples which in Albion's Isle,
As stories tell, the Trojan Brutus reared?
The form and substance of each stately pile
Were gone, the very dust had disappeared;
Ere Julius reached the white-cliffed shore,
They sank, delivered o'er
To utter dissolution, whence I ween
A general doubt prevails, if such have ever been.

Sunk are the Temples which, as stories tell,
In Britain's Isle the Trojan Brutus reared,
For his transplanted Gods therein to dwell?
Ere Julius landed on the white-cliffed shore,
The sacred structures were delivered o'er
To utter desolation, whence I ween
A general doubt prevails if such have ever been.

Where be the Temples which in Britain's Isle,
As legends tell, the Trojan Founder reared?
Gone like a dream of morning, or a pile
{ Of glittering clouds that in the East appeared. }
{ Of gorgeous clouds that in the west appeared. }
Ere Julius landed on her white-cliffed shore,
They sank, delivered o'er
To fatal dissolution, and I ween
No vestige there was left that such had ever been.

STANZA 2

Yet in unvanquished Cambria lay concealed
'Mid Snowdon's forests, or by Vaga's springs,
A Book whose leaves to later times revealed
The {mighty|wondrous} course of these forgotten things,
How Brutus sailed, by oracles impelled,
And hideous giants quelled,
A Brood whom no civility could melt,
Who never tasted grace, and goodness ne'er had felt.

Yet in the wilds of Cambria lay concealed
By _Snowdon's_ forests or by _Vaga's_ springs,
A Book whose leaves to later time revealed
The wondrous course of {those|long} forgotten things;
How Brutus came, etc.

A British record that had lain concealed
In old Armorica (whose sacred springs
No Gothic conqueror ever drank) revealed
The wondrous course of those forgotten things;
How Brutus came, etc.

STANZA 3

By brave Corineus aided, he subdued
And rooted out the intolerable kind,
And this too long-polluted soil imbued
With {gentle|goodly} arts, and usages refined;
Whence golden harvests, cities, warlike towers,
{ And for soft pleasures, bowers, }
{ And pleasure's {fragrant|leafy} bowers, }
Whence all the fixed delights of house and home,
Friendship that will not break, and love that cannot roam.

STANZA 4

O happy Britain! region all too fair
For fondly-favouring Nature to endure

* * * * *

Lurked many a poisonous weed;

STANZA 6

Who has not wept the wrongs of aged Lear
By his ungrateful daughter turned adrift?
Hear him, ye elements!--they cannot hear,
Nor can the winds restore his simple gift,
But One there is, a child of nature meek,
Who comes her sire to seek;
And he, recovering sense, upon her breast
Leans smilingly, and sinks into a {happy }
} rest.
{passing}

STANZA 7

{Honoured, for ever honoured be the page, }
{Prized be the Book, and honoured the Page,}
When England's Darling found a basis laid
To those dread scenes which on the tragic stage
To trembling multitudes his art displayed;
And to {that chronicle } be praise decreed
{the same for this}
That there men first did read
Of Merlin's insight into future years,
And all the mighty feats of Arthur and his peers.

STANZA 8

What wonder, then, if 'mid the vast domain
Of that rich Volume, one particular Flower
Hath breathed its fragrance seemingly in vain
And bloomed unnoticed even to this late hour,
Ye gentle Muses, your assistance grant,
While I this flower transplant
Into a garden pure of poesy,
Small garden which I tend in all humility.

The following (suppressed) Stanza followed No. 10

The winds and waves have aided him to reach
That coast, the object of his heart's desire,
But, while the crownless sovereign trod the beach,
His eyeballs kindle with resentful ire,
As if incensed with all that he beholds,
Dark fields, and naked wolds,
And these few Followers, a helpless band
That to his fortunes cleave, and wait on his command.

STANZA 12

{"Bear with me, Friends," said Artegal ashamed,}
{"Forgive this passion," Artegal exclaimed, }
And, as he spake, they dive into a wood,
And from its shady boughs protection claimed,
For light he fears, and open neighbourhood.
How changed from him who born to highest place

STANZA 13

Oft by imaginary terrors scared,
And sometimes into real dangers brought,
To Calaterium's forest he repaired,
And in its depth secure a refuge sought,
Thence to a few whom he esteems his friends
A messenger he sends,

STANZA 14

With his attendants here at break of morn,
Wandering by stealth abroad he chanced to hear
A startling outcry made by hound and horn,
From which the tusky Boar hath fled in fear,
And, etc.

STANZA 16

Feebly returned by {wandering} Artegal,
{trembling}

STANZA 17

{Heir of Gorbonian! Brother gladly met, }
{Gorbonian's heir, my brother gladly met,}

STANZA 25

And what if o'er this bright unbosoming
A cloud of time, and envious fortune past!
Have we not seen the glories of the spring
By noontide darkness veiled and overcast?
The lakes that glittered like a sunbright shield,
The sky, the gay green field,
All vanish in a moment, as if night
Were sister to the sun, and darkness born of light.

STANZA 26

But should the sun victorious glimmer forth,
Far brighter seems the wide world than before:
Such power is latent in thy native worth,
To spread delight and joy from shore to shore:
For past misdeeds how grateful to atone,
Re-seated on thy throne,
Give proof that long adversity, and pain,
And sorrow have confirmed thy inborn right to reign.

From STANZA 28 to end

The story tells that Artegal away
Was by his brother privily conveyed
To a far distant city (at that day
Alclwyd named), whose fortress undismayed
By the hostility of mortals stood
In sight of field and flood,
Obnoxious only on the lofty Rock
To the careering storm, and perilous lightning stroke.

When this impregnable retreat was gained,
In prudent furtherance of his just intent,
King Elidure a mortal illness feigned,
And to his mightiest Lords a summons sent
Softly, and one by one into the gloom,
(As suits a sick man's room),
The attendants introduced each potent peer,
There, singly and alone, his sovereign will to hear.

Said Elidure, Behold our rightful King,
The banished Artegal, before thee stands:
Kneel, and renew to him the offering
Of thy allegiance; justice this demands,
Immortal justice, speaking through my voice,
Accept him, and rejoice.
... he will prove
Worthier than I have been of reverence and love.

If firm command and mild persuasion failed
To change the temper of an adverse mind,
With such by other engines he prevailed,
Threatening to fling their bodies to the wind
From the dread summit of the lonely block,
That castle-crested Rock,
Alclwyd then, but now Dunbarton named,
A memorable crag through spacious Albion famed.

Departing thence, to York their way they bent,
While the glad people flowers before them strewed,
And then King Elidure with full consent
Of all his peers, before the multitude
Upon his brother's head he placed the crown,
Relinquished by his own;
Triumph of justice, and affection pure,
Whence he the title gained of "pious Elidure."

The people answered with a loud acclaim,
Through admiration of the heroic deed.
The reinstated Artegal became
Earth's noblest penitent; from bondage freed
Of vice, henceforth unable to control
The motions of his soul.
{And when he died, the worthy and the brave }
{Shed tears of fond regret upon his honoured grave.}
{Long did he reign: and, when he died, the tear }
{Of fond regret was shed upon his honoured bier. }