Mazelli, and Other Poems [21]
and months, and years,
Have all gone by uncounted, in the full,
Deep, fervent, soul-sufficing happiness,
Of all I prayed for, panted for, obtained!
But I must rouse him, it is time his flock
Should leave the fold, and--
[The boy starts and murmurs in his sleep.
Down by yonder stream,
Where the green willows cluster thickest, there
They dwell. 'Tis scarce so far as I could cast
A pebble from my sling. Seek it, and they
Will minister to thee what thou mayest need.
[He awakes, and recognising his mother, exclaims--
Ah, mother! I have dreamed so strange a dream,
So strange, and yet so palpable, that I
Believed it a reality. Methought
As closely followed by my bleating flock,
I climbed the rugged mountain side where spring
Our greenest pastures, singing as I went,
I met a lonely wanderer in my way,
Of brow so pale, and eye so darkly sad,
That my own heart, to sadness little used,
Grew heavy at the sight; and he seemed worn
And very weary, not so much with toil
As by some hidden, inward strife of soul,
Which even then seemed raging in his breast.
He stayed to question me where he might find
The cottage of some honest mountaineer,
Where he might crave the boons of rest and food,--
And mindful of the lesson taught by thee,
To give the hungry bread, the weary rest,
I pointed him to where our cottage stands,
Assuring him that thou and my sweet sister,--
Fair as aught earthly, and as pure as fair,--
Would entertain him as a welcome guest:
And so we parted.
Rebecca.
Thou didst well to mind
The lesson I so often have repeated.
It is our first of duties to give aid
To those who beg for succour at our hands;
For we ourselves, whatever we possess,
Are but the stewards of the bounteous Lord
Who giveth to his creatures all good gifts.
But it is time that thou shouldst seek the hills,
So take thy crook and pipe and hie away.
[Exeunt.
Scene III. The side of a mountain. Werner descending.
Enter a shepherd boy, followed by his flock, singing.
I.
When the Morning starts up from her couch on the deep,
Where through the dim night hours, she pillows her sleep,
I start from my slumbers, and hie me away
Where the white torrent dashes its feathery spray,--
I quaff the fresh stream as it bursts from the hill,--
I pluck the fresh flowers that spring by the rill,--
I watch the gray clouds as they curl round the peak
That rises high over them, barren and bleak;
And I think how the worldling who courts fortune's smile,
In his heart, like that peak, may be lonely the while;
And then my own heart sings aloud in its joy,
That Heaven has made me a free shepherd boy!
II.
When the horn of the hunter resounds from on high,
Where the tall giant ice-cliffs ire piled to the sky,
Where, shunning the verdure of valleys and dells,
The brave eagle builds, and the shy chamois dwells,--
I list to its gay tones, as by me they float,
And I echo them merrily back, note for note;
With the wild bird a song full as gladsome I sing,
I crown me with flowers, and sit a crowned king,--
My flock are my subjects, my dog my vizier,
And my sceptre--a mild one--the crook that I bear;
No wants to perplex me, no cares to annoy,
I live an unenvying, free shepherdhoy!
Werner (meets and addresses him).
Thou'rt merry, lad.
Albert.
Ay, I have cause to be so.
(Aside.)
It is the wanderer of my last night's dream,
The same pale brow, and darkly mournful eye,
And weary gait, and melancholy voice,--
If he seeks friendly guidance, food, or shelter,
He shall not want them long.
Werner.
So thou hast cause
For merriment,--then thou perchance hast wealth,
Broad, fruitful lands, and tenements, and all
Which wealth confers.
Albert.
Nay, I have none of these,
And yet have more than all which thou hast named.
I have a father, whose unsullied name
No tongue has ever spoken with reproach,
A mother, whose idea is with me
A holy thing, and a dear sister, who
Is fair as pure, and pure as is the snow
Upon the summit of the tallest peak
Of these my native mountains. I have
Have all gone by uncounted, in the full,
Deep, fervent, soul-sufficing happiness,
Of all I prayed for, panted for, obtained!
But I must rouse him, it is time his flock
Should leave the fold, and--
[The boy starts and murmurs in his sleep.
Down by yonder stream,
Where the green willows cluster thickest, there
They dwell. 'Tis scarce so far as I could cast
A pebble from my sling. Seek it, and they
Will minister to thee what thou mayest need.
[He awakes, and recognising his mother, exclaims--
Ah, mother! I have dreamed so strange a dream,
So strange, and yet so palpable, that I
Believed it a reality. Methought
As closely followed by my bleating flock,
I climbed the rugged mountain side where spring
Our greenest pastures, singing as I went,
I met a lonely wanderer in my way,
Of brow so pale, and eye so darkly sad,
That my own heart, to sadness little used,
Grew heavy at the sight; and he seemed worn
And very weary, not so much with toil
As by some hidden, inward strife of soul,
Which even then seemed raging in his breast.
He stayed to question me where he might find
The cottage of some honest mountaineer,
Where he might crave the boons of rest and food,--
And mindful of the lesson taught by thee,
To give the hungry bread, the weary rest,
I pointed him to where our cottage stands,
Assuring him that thou and my sweet sister,--
Fair as aught earthly, and as pure as fair,--
Would entertain him as a welcome guest:
And so we parted.
Rebecca.
Thou didst well to mind
The lesson I so often have repeated.
It is our first of duties to give aid
To those who beg for succour at our hands;
For we ourselves, whatever we possess,
Are but the stewards of the bounteous Lord
Who giveth to his creatures all good gifts.
But it is time that thou shouldst seek the hills,
So take thy crook and pipe and hie away.
[Exeunt.
Scene III. The side of a mountain. Werner descending.
Enter a shepherd boy, followed by his flock, singing.
I.
When the Morning starts up from her couch on the deep,
Where through the dim night hours, she pillows her sleep,
I start from my slumbers, and hie me away
Where the white torrent dashes its feathery spray,--
I quaff the fresh stream as it bursts from the hill,--
I pluck the fresh flowers that spring by the rill,--
I watch the gray clouds as they curl round the peak
That rises high over them, barren and bleak;
And I think how the worldling who courts fortune's smile,
In his heart, like that peak, may be lonely the while;
And then my own heart sings aloud in its joy,
That Heaven has made me a free shepherd boy!
II.
When the horn of the hunter resounds from on high,
Where the tall giant ice-cliffs ire piled to the sky,
Where, shunning the verdure of valleys and dells,
The brave eagle builds, and the shy chamois dwells,--
I list to its gay tones, as by me they float,
And I echo them merrily back, note for note;
With the wild bird a song full as gladsome I sing,
I crown me with flowers, and sit a crowned king,--
My flock are my subjects, my dog my vizier,
And my sceptre--a mild one--the crook that I bear;
No wants to perplex me, no cares to annoy,
I live an unenvying, free shepherdhoy!
Werner (meets and addresses him).
Thou'rt merry, lad.
Albert.
Ay, I have cause to be so.
(Aside.)
It is the wanderer of my last night's dream,
The same pale brow, and darkly mournful eye,
And weary gait, and melancholy voice,--
If he seeks friendly guidance, food, or shelter,
He shall not want them long.
Werner.
So thou hast cause
For merriment,--then thou perchance hast wealth,
Broad, fruitful lands, and tenements, and all
Which wealth confers.
Albert.
Nay, I have none of these,
And yet have more than all which thou hast named.
I have a father, whose unsullied name
No tongue has ever spoken with reproach,
A mother, whose idea is with me
A holy thing, and a dear sister, who
Is fair as pure, and pure as is the snow
Upon the summit of the tallest peak
Of these my native mountains. I have