80 With speed she through the window past, And lit upon the ground; While Hume he cross'd the ditch with haste, He did not stay to sound. He bore her down the bank so steep, He wanted not a guide; He cross'd the ditch, both wide and deep, And landed on t'other side. They spurr'd their dapple steeds along, "Langley awake!" the porter cries, She is fled with Hume; arise! arise! 85 Then Langley call'd his four bold sons, As bold as bold could be ; They spur each steed, which swiftly runs, 95 And scours across the lee. 100 They spur their steeds with mickle might, Till on a rising hill, They see the lovers full in sight, Yet onward prick they still. They see the lovers ford the Tweed, To whom thus Murray kind, "Fly on, my friends, with treble speed, While I remain behind." "Nay, Heav'n forefend!" brave Hume replied, "That thou alone should'st stand, I'll fix my feet thy feet beside, And meet yon hostile band." "Fly on, fly on!" bold Murray cries, "For know, unless I dream, Unless my bow-string fail, or eyes, Not one shall cross the stream. 106 IIO “O, spare my father's valued life,” Straight kill'd the foremost horse. 115 120 Again he shot, nor miss'd his aim, The happy deed he told ; Another horse fell dead; Three more fell flound'ring in the stream, And then bold Murray fled. He join❜d the lovers in their flight, Her cheeks warm blushes render bright, 125 "For Hume, that thief, hath stole my child, My pleasure and my pride; He bore her through the marshes wild, With Murray by his side. "Who, as we cross'd the Tweed, took aim, 145 Most like a traitor Scot, And all our horses in the stream With his sharp arrows shot." "Hath Hume thy daughter carried off, Thy bonny Rosaline? I would," quoth Percy, with a scoff, 66 'That he had taken mine. "For though he be my foe, I love And prize his martial fire ; Langley, in sooth I shall not move, 150 155 Would he could call me sire !" Old Ballad. CALM AFTER STORM. How calm, how beautiful comes on 5 ΙΟ 15 20 MOORE. 79 HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS FROM GHENT TO AIX. I SPRANG to the stirrup, and Joris, and he : 5 Speed!" echoed the wall to us galloping through; Behind shut the postern, the light sank to rest, And into the midnight we galloped abreast. Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place; I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight, Then shortened each stirrup, and set the pique ΙΟ right, Rebuckled the cheek-strap, chained slacker the bit, Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit. 'Twas moonset at starting; but while we drew near Lokeren, the cocks crew and twilight dawned clear; At Boom, a great yellow star came out to see; 15 At Düffeld, 'twas morning as plain as could be ; And from Mechlin church-steeple we heard the half-chime; So Joris broke silence with, "Yet there is time! " At Aershot, up leaped of a sudden the sun, 21 And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back 25 For my voice, and the other pricked out on his track; This refers to an incident in the War of Dutch Independence fought against Philip II. of Spain. All the places named are towns or villages lying between Ghent and Aix (Aix la Chapelle). And one eye's black intelligence-ever that glance O'er its white edge at me, his own master, askance ! And the thick heavy spume-flakes which aye and anon His fierce lips shook upwards in galloping on. 30 By Hasselt, Dirck groaned; and cried Joris, "Stay spur ! Your Roos galloped bravely; the fault's not in her, We'll remember at Aix "-for one heard the quick wheeze Of her chest, saw the stretched neck, and staggering knees, And sunk tail, and horrible heave of the flank, 35 As down on her haunches she shuddered and sank. So we were left galloping, Joris and I, Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky The broad sun above laughed a pitiless laugh, 'Neath our foot broke the brittle bright stubble like chaff; 40 Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white, And “Gallop,” gasped Joris, “for Aix is in sight!" "How they'll greet us!"—and all in a moment his roan Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone; And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate, 46 With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim, And with circles of red for his eye-sockets' rim. Then I cast loose my buffcoat, each holster let fall, Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all,50 Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear, Called my Roland his pet name, my horse without peer; Clapped my hands, laughed and sang, any noise, bad or good, Till at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood. |