Complete Poetical Works of Robert Southey

by Robert Southey

  Which could delight the eye and heart of man;

  Whate’er of beauty or of usefulness

  Heart could desire, or eye behold, being here.

  What he had found an idle wilderness

  Now gave rich increase to the husbandmen,

  For Heaven had blest their labor. Flourishing

  He left the happy vale; and now he saw

  More fields reclaim’d, more habitations rear’d,

  More harvests rising round. The reptile race,

  And every beast of rapine, had retir’d

  From man’s asserted empire; and the sound

  Of axe, and dashing oar, and fisher’s net,

  And song beguiling toil, and pastoral pipe,

  Were heard, where late the solitary hills

  Gave only to the mountain cataract

  Their wild response.

  Here, Urien, cried the Prince,

  These craggy heights and overhanging groves

  Will make thee think of Gwyneth. And this hut,

  Rejoined Cadwallon, with its roof of reeds,

  Goervyl, is our palace: it was rear’d

  With lighter labour than Aberfraw’s towers;

  Yet, Lady, safer are its wattled sides

  Than Mona’s kingly walls... Like Gwyneth, said he?

  Oh, no! we neighbor nearer to the Sun,

  And with a more benignant eye the Lord

  Of Light beholds us here.

  So thus did they

  Cheerfully welcome to their new abode

  These, who, albeit aweary of their way,

  And glad to reach at length the place of rest,

  Felt their hearts overburden’d, and their eyes

  Ready to overflow. Yet not the less

  The buzz of busy joy was heard around,

  Where every dwelling had its guest, and all

  Gave the long eve to hospitable mirth.

  II.

  But when the Lord of Ocean from the stir

  And tumult was retir’d, Cadwallon then

  Thus render’d his account.

  When we had quell’d

  The strength of Aztlan, we should have thrown down

  Her altars, cast her Idols to the fire,

  And on the ruins of her fanes accurst.

  Planted the Cross triumphant. Vain it is

  To sow the seed, where noxious weeds and briers

  Must choke it in the growth.

  Yet I had hope

  The purer influence of exampled good

  Might to the saving knowledge of the truth

  Lead this bedarken’d race; and when thy ship

  Fell down the stream, to distant Britain bound,

  All promis’d well. The Strangers’ God had prov’d

  Mightier in war; and Aztlan could not chuse

  But see, nor seeing could she fail to love,

  The freedom of his service. Few were now

  The offerings at her altars, few the youths

  And virgins to the temple-toils devote.

  Therefore the Priests combin’d to save their craft;

  And soon the rumour ran of evil signs

  And tokens; in the temple had been heard

  Wailings and loud lament; the eternal fire

  Gave dismally a dim and doubtful flame;

  And from the censer, which at morn should steam

  Sweet odours to the sun, a fetid cloud,

  Black and portentous, rose. And now no Priest

  Approached our dwelling. Even the friendly Prince

  Yuhidthiton was at Caermadoc now

  Rarely a guest; and, if that tried good will

  Which once he bore us, did at times appear,

  A sullen gloom and silence, like remorse,

  Follow’d the imagin’d crime.

  But I the while

  Reck’d not the brooding of the storm; for now

  My father to the grave was hastening down.

  Patiently did the pious man endure,

  In faith anticipating blessedness,

  Already more than man, in those sad hours

  When man is meanest. I sate by his side

  And pray’d with him, and talk’d with him of death,

  And life to come. O Madoc! those were hours

  Which even in anguish gave my soul a joy:

  I think of them in solitude, and feel

  The comfort of my faith.

  But when that time

  Of bitterness was past, and I return’d

  To daily duties, no suspicious sign

  Betoken’d ill: the Priests among us came

  As heretofore, and I their intercourse

  Encouraged as I could, suspecting nought,

  Nor conscious of the subtle-minded men

  I dealt with, how inveterate in revenge,

  How patient in deceit. Lincoya first

  Forewarn’d me of the danger. He, thou know’st,

  Had from the death of sacrifice escap’d,

  And lived a slave among a distant tribe,

  When, seeing us, he felt a hope, that we,

  Lords, as he deem’d us, of the Elements,

  Might pity his oppressed countrymen,

  And free them from their bondage. Didst thou hear

  How from yon devilish altars he was sav’d?

  For in the eternal chain his fate and ours

  Were link’d together then.

  The Prince replied,

  I did but hear a broken tale. Tell on!

  Among the Gods of yon unhappy race,

  Tezealipoca as the chief they rank,

  Or with the chief co-equal; maker he,

  And Master of created things esteem’d.

  He sits upon a throne of trophied skulls,

  Hideous and huge; a shield is on his arm,

  And with his black right hand he lifts, as though

  In wrath, the menacing spear. His festival,

  Of all this wicked nation’s wicked rites,

  With most solemnity and circumstance,

  And pomp of hellish piety, is held.

  From all whom evil fortune hath subdu’d

  To their inhuman thraldom, they select

  Him whom they judge, for comely countenance,

  And shapely form, and all good natural gifts,

  Worthiest to be the victim; and for this

  Was young Lincoya chosen, being in truth

  The flower of all his nation. For twelve months,

  Their custom is that this appointed youth

  Be as the Idol’s living image held.

  Garb’d therefore, like the Demon Deity,

  Whene’er he goes abroad, an antic train

  With music and with dance attend his way;

  The crowd before him fall, and worship him;

  And those infernal Priests, who guard him then

  To be their victim and their feast at last,

  At morning and at evening incense him,

  And mock him with knee-reverence. Twenty days

  Before the bloody festival arrive,

  As ‘twere to make the wretch in love with life,

  Four maids, the loveliest of the land, are given

  In spousals. With Lincoya, all these rites

  Duly were kept; and at the stated time,

  Four maids, the loveliest of the land, were his.

  Of these was one, whom even at that hour

  He learnt to love, so excellently good

  Was she; and she lov’d him, and pitied him.

  She is the daughter of an aged Priest;

  I oftentimes have seen her; and, in truth,

  Compar’d with Britain’s maids so beautiful,

  Or with the dark-eyed daughters of the South,

  She would be lovely still. Her cotton vest

  Falls to the knee, and leaves her olive arms

  Bare in their beauty; loose, luxuriant, long,

  Flow the black tresses of her glossy hair;

  Mild is her eye’s jet
lustre; and her voice!..

  A soul which harbored evil never breath’d

  Such winning tones.

  Thou know’st how manfully

  These tribes, as if insensible to pain,

  Welcome their death in battle, or in bonds

  Defy their torturers. To Lincoya’s mind

  Long preparation now had made his fate

  Familiar; and, he says, the thought of death

  Broke not his sleep, nor mingled with his dreams,

  Till Coatel was his. But then it woke;..

  It hung,.. it prest upon him like a weight

  On one who scarce can struggle with the waves;

  And when her soul was full of tenderness,

  That thought recurring to her, she would rest

  Her cheek on his, and weep.

  The day drew nigh;

  And now the eve of sacrifice was come...

  What will not woman, gentle woman, dare,

  When strong affection stirs her spirit up?..

  She gathered herbs, which, like our poppy, bear

  The seed of sleep, and with the temple food

  Mingled their power; herself partook the food,

  So best to lull suspicion; and the youth,

  Instructed well, when all were laid asleep,

  Fled far away.

  After our conquering arms

  Had freed the Hoamen from their wretched yoke,

  Lincoya needed but his Coatel

  To fill his sum of earthly happiness.

  Her to the temple had her father’s vow

  Awhile devoted, and some moons were still

  To pass away, ere yet she might become

  A sojourner with us, Lincoya’s wife,

  When from the Paba’s wiles his watchful mind

  Foreboded ill. He bade me take good heed,

  And fear the sudden kindness of a foe.

  I started at his words;.. these artful men,

  Hostile at heart, as well we knew they were,

  These were lip-lavish of their friendship now,

  And courted confidence; while our tried friend

  Yuhidthiton, estranged, a seldom guest,

  Sullen and joyless, seem’d to bear at heart

  Something that rankled there. These things were strange

  The omens, too, had ceased;.. we heard no more

  Of twilight voices, nor the unholy cloud

  Steam’d from the morning incense. Why was this?

  Young Malinal had from the hour of peace

  Been our indweller, studious to attain

  Our language and our arts. To him I told

  These doubts, assur’d of his true love and truth;

  For he had learnt to understand and feel

  Our holy faith, and tended like a son,

  Cynetha’s drooping age, and shar’d with me

  His dying benediction. He, thus long

  Intent on better things, had been estranged

  From Aztlan and her councils; but at this

  He judged it for her welfare and for ours,

  Now to resume his rank;.. belike his voice

  Might yet be heard, or, if the worst befell,

  His timely warning save us from the snare.

  But in their secret councils Malinal

  No longer bore a part; the Chiefs and King

  Yielding blind reverence to the Pabas now,

  Deluded or dismay’d. He sent to say

  Some treachery was design’d, and bade me charge

  His brother with the crime. On that same day,

  Lincoya came from Aztlan; he had found

  Coatel laboring with a wretchedness

  She did not seek to hide; and when the youth

  Reveal’d his fear, he saw her tawny cheek

  Whiten, and round his neck she clung and wept.

  She told him something dreadful was at hand,

  She knew not what; That, in the dead of midnight,

  Coanocotzin at Mexitli’s shrine

  Had stood with all his nobles; human blood

  Had then been offered up, and secret vows

  Vowed with mysterious horror: that but late,

  When to her father of the days to come

  She spake, and of Lincoya and her lot

  Among the strangers, he had frown’d, and strove

  Beneath dissembled anger to conceal

  Oppressive grief. She knew not what to fear,

  But something dreadful surely was at hand,

  And she was wretched.

  When I heard these things,

  Yuhidthiton and the Priest Helhua

  Were in our dwellings. Them I called apart...

  There should be peace between us, I began;

  Why is it otherwise?

  The Priest replied,

  Is there not peace, Cadwallon? Seek we not

  More frequent and more friendly intercourse,

  Even we, the servants of our Country-Gods,

  Whose worship ye have changed, and for whose sake

  We were, and would have been, your enemies?

  But as those Gods have otherwise ordain’d,

  Do we obey. Why, therefore, is this doubt?

  The Power who led us hither, I replied,

  Over the world of waters, who hath sav’d

  And who will save his people, warns me now.

  Then on Yuhidthiton I fixed my eye.

  Danger is near! I cried; I know it near!

  It comes from Aztlan.

  His disordered cheek,

  And the forced and steady boldness of his eye,

  Which in defiance met the look it fear’d,

  Confess’d the crime. I saw his inward shame

  Yet with a pride like angry innocence

  Did he make answer, I am in your hands,

  And you believe me treacherous!.. Kill me now.

  Not so, Yuhidthiton! not so! quoth I;

  You were the Strangers’ friend, and yet again

  That wisdom may return. We are not changed;..

  Lovers of peace, we know, when danger comes,

  To make the evil on the guilty head

  Fall heavily and sure! With our good arms,

  And our good cause, and that Almighty One,

  We are enough, had we no other aid,

  We of Caermadoc here, to put to shame

  Aztlan, with all her strength and all her wiles.

  But even now is Madoc on the seas;

  He leads our brethren here; and should he find

  That Aztlan hath been false,.. oh! hope not then,

  By force or fraud, to baffle or elude

  Inevitable vengeance! While ye may,

  Look to your choice; for we are friends or foes,

  Even to your own desert.

  So saying, I left

  The astonish’d men, whose unprovided minds

  Fail’d them; nor did they aim at answer more,

  But homeward went their way. Nor knew I then,..

  For this was but a thing of yesterday,..

  How near the help I boasted. Now, I trust,

  Thy coming shall discomfit all their wiles.

  III.

  Not yet at rest, my sister! quoth the Prince,

  As at her dwelling-door he saw the Maid

  Sit gazing on that lovely moonlight scene:..

  To bed, Goervyl!. Dearest, what hast thou

  To keep thee wakeful here at this late hour,

  When even I shalt bid a truce to thought,

  And lay me down in peace?.. Good night, Goervyl!

  Dear sister mine,.. my own dear mother’s child!

  She rose, and, bending on with lifted arms,

  Met the fond kiss; obedient then withdrew.

  Yet could not he, so lightly as he ween’d,

  Lay wakeful thoughts aside; for he foresaw

  Long strife and hard adventure to atchieve,

  And forms of danger vague disturb’d his dreams.

  Early at morn
the colonists arose;

  Some pitch the tent-pole, and pin down the lines

  That stretch the o’er-awning canvas; to the wood,

  Others, with saw and axe and bill, for stakes

  And undergrowth to weave the wicker walls;

  These to the ships, with whom Cadwallon sends

  The Elk and Bisori, broken to the yoke.

  Ere noon, Erillyab and her son arrived

  To greet the Chief. She wore no longer now

  The lank, loose locks of careless widowhood;

  Her braided tresses round her brow were bound,

  Bedecked with tufts of grey and silvery plumes,

  Plucked from the eagle’s pennons. She, with eye

  And countenance which spake no feign’d delight,

  Welcom’d her great deliverer. But her son

  Had Nature character’d so legibly,

  That when his tongue told fair, his face betray’d

  The lurking falsehood; sullen, slow of speech,

  Savage, down-looking, dark, that, at his words

  Of welcome, Madoc in his heart conceived

  Instinctive enmity.

  In a happy hour

  Did the Great Spirit, said Erillyab,

  Give bidding to the Winds to speed thee here!

  For this I made my prayer; and when He sent

  For the Beloved Teacher, to restore him

  Eyesight and youth, of him I then besought,

  As he had been thy friend and ours on earth,

  That he would intercede... Brother, we know

  That the Great Spirit loves thee; He hath blest

  Thy going and thy coming, and thy friends

  Have prospered for thy sake; and now, when first

  The Powers of Evil do begin to work,

  Lo! thou art here!.. Brother, we have obey’d

  Thy will, and the Beloved Teacher’s words

  Have been our law; but now the Evil Ones

  Cry out for blood, and say they are athirst,

  And threaten vengeance. I have brought the Priest,

  To whom they spake in darkness;.. thou art wise,

  And the Great Spirit will enlighten thee;..

  We know not what to answer... Tell thy tale,

  Neolin!

  Hereat did Madoc fix upon him

  A searching eye; but he, no whit abash’d,

  Began with firm effrontery his speech.

  The Feast of the Departed is at hand,

  And I, in preparation, on the Field